Book Review: The Mighty Storm by Samantha Towle

It’s been twelve years since Tru Bennett last saw Jake Wethers, her former best friend and boy she once loved.

Jake Wethers, sexy, tattooed and deliciously bad lead singer, and brains behind The Mighty Storm, one of the biggest bands in the world, left Tru with a broken heart when he moved from England to America with his family when they were both fourteen.

Sent to interview Jake for her music column by the magazine she works for, they are both unprepared for the sparks that fly the instant they reconnect. Only, there’s a complication to their instant feelings for one another—Will, Tru’s boyfriend of two years.

Then Jake makes Tru a job offer she can’t refuse—travelling the world with him and his band. But taking the job means leaving Will behind, and being on the road with the band means spending an inordinate amount of time with Jake.

Is Tru strong enough to resist the delectable bad boy who once held her heart so completely, or will she willingly risk it all for one night with the world’s most notorious womanizer?

Rating:

F

This is, without a doubt, the most redundant book I’ve ever read. It’s really repetitive. I mean, the MC’s inner monologue is on some sort of replay. Her thoughts are cyclical. One might even say that there’s a recurring theme. She thinks the same shit over and over again. Sometimes not even in a different way, she just repeats the same information with different wording. It’s like she can’t break free of her habitual thoughts. Over and over again you’re given the same information. She likes to talk about things in multiple ways. She’s really persistent in the way she tells you things. I got pretty irritated with the relentless barrage of constant, continual, unrelenting, repetition.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I’M TRYING TO TELL YOU? SHIT IS REPETITIVE AS FUCK!

From what I could tell, this book is basically about this redundant chick’s obsession with some rock star. The first chapter is about his life, what he looks like, how many women he’s slept with, etc, etc. The MC is pretty much an internet creeper when it comes to him.

Oh yeah, there’s also a whole mini-paragraph in there where her “…very lovely, very gorgeous, blond, blued-eyed, smart boyfriend, Will.” calls but LITERALLY as soon as she hangs up with him she goes back to Googling shirtless pictures of the rock star dude, Jake, that she’s stalking. Classy broad. And speaking of the word literally:

“My heart stops. Literally, stops.”

This is a recurring theme. Not only does she not seem to understand certain words. But she also. Doesn’t believe in. Punctuation. Fuck commas. Periods. Are so much more fun to use. And isn’t it awesome. When an ENTIRE FUCKING BOOK. Is made up of fragmented sentences? Maybe I’ll do the rest of. The review. Like this. Maybe then. You’ll understand how. Fucking annoying. It gets.

Don’t worry, I’ll spare you from that torture. So not only is this MC’s inner monologue made up of some of the most fragmented and redundant drivel I’ve ever regretted reading but the book also comes across like a frigging shopping list.

– I went there.
– I sat down.
– I looked around.
– I talked to this person.
– I then went back to my desk.
– Must not forget to pick up more deodorant.

Please tell me more. I find the way you speak and think to be so entrhalli…

Oh and let’s not forget her maturity, or lack thereof.

Holy crap! You guys, this is Trudy, Tru for short! And I’m the *star* of this book! See what I did there with the stars around the word star? I’m so clever. Don’t listen to Litchick, she cray-cray. I am totally mature! For sure! Ha! That rhymed! Edgar Allen Poe better watch his butt. Ew, isn’t butt such a gross word? Hey, have you ever, like, read a book before? And thought, wow, I could totally do that? OMG YOU GUYS, ME TOO! That’s why I’m a journo and I write all about music. Actually, what I really do-

SHUT UP. SHUT THE FUCK UP. JUST STOP TALKING YOU FUCKING MORON.

Er…sorry about that. Moving on. This MC is allegedly in her mid-twenties. I would never have guessed that. She has the emotional and mental capacity of a hormonal pre-teen. She’s your cut and paste Anastasia Steele type that has become so popular lately, much to my dismay. She has no fucking spine, no sense of self, is incapable of complex thought, and is basically a slave to her emotions. Oh, and she’s also a pretty shitty person. But don’t worry, I’ll get to that in a second.

First let me tell you what this book is about. Take FSoG and Real, lock them into a room, and let them smush their squishy bits together for a little while. Nine months later you get this bastard of shiterature. No really, this book comes complete with the interview between Ana and Christian at the beginning of FSoG, where Ana is bumbling and awkward and Christian is an arrogant douchenozzle. Then the book follows the entire premise of Real in that this MC is hired by, and roped into going on the road with, an underground boxer a rock star.

Oh but wait! There’s a twist! The MC has that “perfect” boyfriend that you only hear vague mention of once a chapter. Every moment of the beginning of this angstapalooza seemed to be based on her desire for the rock star warring with her desire to not cheat on her boyfriend. I use that loosely because in almost every scene the boyfriend seems like an afterthought.

Does she do the right thing and break up with him as soon as she realizes what’s going on? Psshhhh, that would take some fucking rational thought. Get out of here with your decency and your logic. Instead she starts mentally cheating on him the second she lays eyes on Jake. The following sums up the first fifty pages of my reading experience:

“Holy crap, he’s even more beautiful close up.”You have a boyfriend.

“I love how his voice sounds when he says my name. It’s giving me the warm and fuzzies.” Lady, you have a boyfriend.

“His gorgeous, lovely face, and his toned, tight body…”Yup, you still have a boyfriend.

“He grins. And it travels all the way through me. I have to press my knees together to stop my legs from trembling. ” – Seriously? We’re not even 40 pages in yet!

“He reaches his hand up to my face and tucks my hair behind my ear. I almost swoon, my legs trembling, tummy butterflying.” DID YOU FORGET WHATSHISFACE ALREADY?

“The feel of his lips on my skin, his hot breath, momentarily halts every moving particle of me, paralyzing me to the spot, nearly sending me into convulsions.” THAT’S IT!

After page fifty I started skimming because of reasons. And for that you should all be thankful. From what I could tell, it does not improve. She progresses from mentally cheating to physically cheating. But really this entire book is a shit-show. In closing, no, I would not recommend this book to anyone. Ever.


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