This is a romance novel. If you're unfamiliar with the romance formula then I'm about to spoil every single romance novel ever:
They all end on a deliriously happy note with an abundance of perfection.
So whilst I won't discuss the actual end to this book, I don't think I really will be spoiling everything if I discuss the TYPE of end this book has and why it means that I just wasn't really meant for the romance genre.
There was a lot to enjoy about this book. For starters, considering it is billed as a romance novel, its world building was rather impressive. The "Psys" (people with specialized psychic/mental abilities), "Changelings" (shifters of various animal varieties) and humans all live together with Psys generally occupying the higher echelons of society.
The Psys are supposed to be completely unemotional and rational.Which generally means they live long and prosper!
While Changelings are moving up the social ladder leaving the humans in the gutter... where presumably they belong. I'm not sure - they don't feature much in this novel and I must say, as a human, I find this pretty offensive. The sole token human in the novel barely has a part!
Okay - so emotions are forbidden which makes things kind of awkward for resident Psy, Sascha Duncan and Alpha Changeling hunk, Lucas Hunter.
Luckily, it's a romance novel so they naturally work through it.Or else...
My issue is that I just obviously wasn't really meant for the romance genre because I was perfectly fine with this book up until the last couple of chapters. I don't want a super happy ending. Not if it doesn't make any bloody sense and just comes out of nowhere.
Also, I have more issues with paranormal romance and that is because most of them have a "mate for life" policy in which the paranormal creatures actually CAN'T mate with anyone else - even if their spouse dies.
Look, this isn't even true in nature. First of all, not all wolves mate for life in the wild - usually only an alpha pair. And you know what - if one of that pair dies, the other one will probably find another mate!
It's kind of a sick thing to romantizice over too, when you think about it. "He loves me so much, that if I died, he'd rather abandon our children and the world to come join me."
I don't think that's romantic at all. In fact, I think it qualifies as a very unhealthy relationship!
There were definite dominance and control issues in this story that annoyed me as well. Because, you know, the man is always right and a woman can't choose to make a sacrifice for something she believes in. That's just not right. She should listen to her man. She needs permission to do these things.
What is it with that in today's literature? Do we still want a man that's going to knock us unconscious just to retain control?
Okay, story time with Kat:
I'm pregnant and am therefor clinically insane. Mr Kennedy arrived home from work a few weeks ago to find me in the backyard tilling the soil.
"What the hell are you doing?!" he exclaimed angrily.
I glanced up from my hard labour, puffing but excited. "Look, honey! I'm making a veggie patch! Now we'll have nice fresh veggies to eat!"
Mr Kennedy looked at me with a special kind of horror as he began to mentally tabulate exactly how many more weeks this madness was likely to go on for.
"You hate gardening! Why would you want a veggie patch? Why, Honey? Why??!!"
I laughed at his silliness. Everyone needs a veggie patch. Silly, silly man! "Oh! It'll be fun! I'll just finish tilling this soil and then we can go out right away and buy some seedlings! We'll have nice fresh veggies by the time the baby comes!"
Mr Kennedy now has a Pavlovian upchuck reflex to any sentence that ends in, "...by the time the baby comes!" There is a certain manic way pregnant women say that, which instantly informs the rest of the world that reason and logic no longer hold any value.
I then began furiously churning up the soil with one of those pick-axe-like things that you use to do this kind of work. I don't know really, I found it in the shed and it looked like it'd do the job. I think I've seen someone use it in a movie.
"Will you stop that! You're pregnant!"
"Don't be silly, I'll be done soon, darling!"
Mr Kennedy groaned before stripping off his work shirt, snatching the pick-axe from me and saying, "Fine, I'll do it! You just go sit down over there!"
It was at this point that I could KIND of understand why my female ancestors traded some of their freedom and rights if it meant getting to watch a man like him work in the field every day.Because frankly, he looks a lot like this. And he was very, very impressive... with that pick-axe...
But I'm crazy, and pregnant and hormones are what they are.
The fact is though, that as crazy and pregnant and hormonal as I am, I still don't want a caveman who thinks he can threaten, control, dominate and bully me. Though I have consistently made sure I'm doing heavy work around the time Mr Kennedy gets home so that I can watch him do it instead, no man is hot enough to be ordering me around and stomping all over my free-will, damn it!
Thus the three stars! Because I can't enjoy a story where the final lines go something like this, "And so I learned that my husband was right all along..."
Seriously, people? I'm married. My husband hasn't been right since he signed those papers! It's a fact of life.
Married men are never right.