About the Book
-
Author:
- Heather Lynn Rigaud
- Genres:
- Adult
- Adult Romance
- Man-Woman Romance
- Voices:
- Cis Girl
Cover Story: Excuse Me While I Go Die of Embarrassment
Single White Female: Nay
Swoonworthy Scale: -10
Talky Talk: Reginald’s Quivering Member
Bonus Factors: Jane Austen Retelling, Tour Bus, “Fashion”
NSFW Warning: Sexual language
Relationship Status: It’s Not Me, It’s You
Cover Story: Excuse Me While I Go Die of Embarrassment
I don’t think I’ve EVER read a book this embarrassing before. I think the only reason I was willing to be seen in public with this is that I’m moving to a different country in a month, so I don’t care who catches me with it. Even still, I spent most of my time trying to read the book inside my purse so no one could see the cover.
On the flip side, I own this because Santa was walking through Barnes and Noble in December, saw this on the shelf and said YES. THIS. and then bought it for my mom immediately. So I guess it appeals to a certain demographic, at least until you have to read it on your morning commute.
The Deal:
Mega-famous Slurry frontman Will Darcy has 99 problems and a bitch is definitely one. In order to save his bad-boy band from yet another unfinished tour, he must hire up-and-coming girl band Long Bourne Suffering for his opening act, featuring decidedly sexy guitarist Lizzy Bennet, her beautiful sister Jane on bass, and spunky BFF Charlotte on drums. Things start to go sour as Lizzy and Darcy both struggle with their bandmates disrupting the professional balance by hooking up, and more concerningly, their own palpable sexual tension. Can they survive the tour without killing each other, or worse still, acting on their conflicted but mutual attraction?
Single White Female: Nay
In my review of Prom & Prejudice, I admitted that the reason I read Pride & Prejudice spin-offs and retellings is to further my obsession with being Elizabeth Bennet. Unfortunately, this particular Lizzy didn’t really do it for me. She is fine, but being famous sounds TERRIBLE. Sleeping on a tour bus, eating out every night, having the paparazzi follow you around constantly… No thanks. Most days, I just want to come home from work and eat ice cream sandwiches in my underwear. So you can keep your life, Lizzy. I’ll find some other Elizabeths to stalk.
Swoonworthy Scale: -10
Perhaps you are wondering how Pride & Prejudice, one of the swooniest classics of all time, could be retold into anything with a swoon rating of negative ten. Especially since this is a book FILLED with sex. I have two words for you: mouth. plundering. More on this in a second.
Talky Talk: Reginald’s Quivering Member
Y’all. I DID NOT KNOW THIS WAS A SEXY TIMES BOOK. One day, I was sitting on the crowded train home, directly underneath the large map of the metro system that dozens of tourists were coming by and scrutinizing, reading page 82. And then all of a sudden, I was like WHOA. WHOA. WHAT IS HAPPENING. THIS IS A SMUTTY BOOK? I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE A CUTE YA RETELLING SITUATION! And then I panicked for several minutes, because I couldn’t decide which was more embarrassing, a shoulder-reader catching me reading smut on the metro, or closing the book and letting the WHOLE CAR see that hideous cover. And then I was also privately dying because I GAVE THIS BOOK TO MY MOTHER AS A GIFT. That will teach me not to scope out the content beforehand.
Once I got over the initial shock that this book was not, in fact, YA, and instead was a smutty Jane Austen retelling, I decided I would review it anyway, because Pride & Prejudice is my #1 YA novel, and also because this book is unintentionally hilarious. But the writing is definitely a bit different than what I’m used to reviewing.
First of all, let me disclaim that I don’t really read romance novels. I like to leave some things up to the imagination. Prior to this, I’d read exactly two smutty books in my life, and one of them was written by Mia Thermopolis. So for all I know, this is how romance novels are supposed to read! And people who are not me would be into this! In that case, good for you! Put this book on hold at the library. But I’m the one writing this review, so let’s get to the trash-talk. The sex in this book is comically bad. But don’t take my word for it, let’s have Rigaud’s writing speak for itself!
All the desires he had been holding back broke free with a rush. He plundered her mouth with his own and she trembled at his determination.
OH MY GOD, THE FUCKING MOUTH PLUNDERING! What does that even mean!? Because based on context clues, I think Rigaud means to convince us that this is some seriously sexy kissing (it’s not), but frankly, “mouth plundering” does not sound like an activity that requires two mouths. Also, mouth plundering occurs no less than three times in this book.
Desire she dared not acknowledge before drove her on as she felt him bury his fingers in her long hair and move her head back so he could once again plunder her mouth.
He plundered her mouth, tasting her sweetness and moaning her name as he gasped for breath, “Lizzy, Lizzy…”
Jesus, at least get some kind of smut thesaurus. All the sex scenes in this book are nearly identical. Here’s a breakdown of what happens:
- Mouth plundering
- Breast cupping
- Nipple suckling (NOT A TYPO)
- Manual and/or oral stimulation
- First female orgasm
- Wanton smiling
- Penetration
- Ass cupping
- Invocation of deity
- Simultaneous and magical coming, rainbows shooting out of every orifice
Every. Fucking. Time. (hah! see what I did there?) There’s also only three sexual positions in the entire book, which, wouldn’t be a big deal except that there has to be upwards of two dozen sex scenes. It is CRAZY BORING.
The few times Rigaud does deviate from the pattern, it produces horrifying results.
As he opened his pants, she stared at him, hard and sweating. Brazenly, she put her hand on his, stopping him. “Don’t.” she commanded. “Leave them on.”
Darcy’s eyes widened with understanding. He opened his fly as wide as possible and Elizabeth was mesmerized with the sight of his large erection rising out from his tight leather sheath, his tight dark curls peeking out from his base… A strangled cry escaped Elizabeth’s mouth as she kissed him again, her hands grasping his shoulders and her legs wrapping around his leather-clad hips. Their tongues dueled while he thrust into her, again and again, until he penetrated her fully… She tightened her legs around his leather-clad ass, locking him close as she exploded onto him.
WHAT THE FUCK?! NO. JUST NO. You know what is on the bottom of my fantasy list, just above bestiality and things involving feces? Having sex with someone actively wearing leather pants. All I can think of is this.
It is testament to my horror of leather pants that I’m not even going to touch that dueling tongues comment. I mean, leather pants. I do not envy Darcy’s dry cleaner, no matter how much expensive business he brings into the shop.
Also, minor spoiler, this happens on the heels of Darcy telling Elizabeth how his pedophile ex-bff Wickham statutory raped his 14-year-old little sister, and then Lizzy goes and throws up in his bathroom. And then they have sex, RIGHT AFTER THAT. With leather pants on. What a coincidence! That’s exactly what I always do in this situation! Nothing gets me hot and bothered like statutory rape and vomit!
The other thing that made me insane was that Lizzy and Darcy DO NOT USE CONDOMS! Nor do Jane and Bingley. Dude, I think the safest assumption here is that you are all a bunch of famous, STD-ridden petri dishes, festering with disease. Also, you know what would put a bit of a damper on that little sold-out, international tour of yours? MORNING SICKNESS. Which is what I imagine Jane has, AFTER SHE (spoiler) GETS KNOCKED UP. Ugh. The only people who DO use condoms are Charlotte and Colonel Fitzwilliam, who, charmingly, are constantly slut-shamed by their closest friends and family:
“Just drink your fucking coffee, Lizzy. I’m taking a shower,” Charlotte replied sullenly as she walked to her room and shut the door.
“Good!” Elizabeth exclaimed, and then mutered darkly about “washing the smell of your whoring off.”
O RLY, LIZZY? At least someone around here practices safe sex. You could stand to learn a thing or two from Charlotte’s “whoring”.
Now perhaps you are wondering what the writing in the rest of this book is like. I guess it was fine? I honestly don’t remember, because SO MUCH of this book was sex scenes. I tried to keep count but lost track around 6 ½, when I realized I still had well over half of the book left to read. Seriously, the last third is just Darcy and Elizabeth having sex, over and over. Often in leather pants.
I’ll leave you with this charming quote that I highlighted as an indicator of how the rest of the book reads.
He was the most arrogant, controlling, condescending man she had ever met, and the only way she could ever stand to fuck him would be to cover his mouth with duct tape so he couldn’t speak!
Wow, if that isn’t the start of a healthy relationship, I don’t know what is.
Bonus Factor: Jane Austen Retelling
This is clearly the only reason I read this book.
Bonus Factor: Tour Bus
One thing that Rigaud got right was how shitty it sounds to be touring with a band. There’s the highs of performance and the initial excitement of touring, but it’s mostly boring stuff, sitting on the tour bus, living out of a suitcase. Slurry’s jaded attitude was completely believable and understandable after a couple chapters on tour.
Bonus Factor: “Fashion”
The “fashion” in this book is hilarious. Besides Darcy’s own leather fetish, Elizabeth wears some lace-up leather pants, Jane wears a white leather corset, and no man ever wears a shirt without it being at least unbuttoned to his navel. Basically, everyone just walked off the set of a Christina Aguilera music video in 1999.
Relationship Status: It’s Not Me, It’s You
Book, have you ever seen that movie Le Dîner de Cons? I think they made an American version, but maybe it sucked? Anyway, I have a confession. I only went out with you in a Dîner de Cons type situation. I thought it would be hilarious, and maybe secretly fun, too. And it WAS hilarious, at least for a little while. But the joke got old quickly, and by the end of the night, I was super tired of hearing about all your sexcapades, because frankly, they weren’t very interesting to begin with. In fact, the only reason I didn’t pull the old I-need-to-use-the-bathroom-and-then-sneak-out-the-back-of-the-restaurant maneuver was so I could go home and tell everyone I knew about how HORRIBLE our date was. So I guess you’re good for something, after all.
FTC Full Disclosure: I received neither money nor cocktails for writing this review (dammit!). Fitzwilliam Darcy, Rock Star is available now.
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