My first thoughts when beginning this book was “whoa!” I knew what the book was about, but I didn’t realize I was going to get to the sex within the first few pages.Then I turned the book over and read how Maguire was “the new bad girl of erotic fiction.” That would definitely explain it. Maybe after reading that sentence I developed a prejudice, or maybe I just didn’t like the book.I’m leaning toward the second one.
First of all, I loathed the characters. They were just a bunch of awful people who knew each other. Sarah is a total mess who doesn’t care about anyone but herself. She falls to pieces after the teacher she had an affair with moves away. She spends the next seven years screwing everything in sight and blaming it on him. If she were some frail, sheltered, unintelligent girl this might work for her. The things is, she isn’t. She’s smart enough to know better than to carry on like some tortured girl with a dark past. I’m not saying I don’t feel sorry for her. I do, but not enough to excuse all the self-destructive behavior.
Daniel Carr, the teacher she’s “in love” with is totally unbalanced. He’s insane. He talks about his obsessive love, but is brutally violent with her. He’s manipulative and demanding. Things have to be his way or he’s angry. He then becomes super creepy when he tells Sarah of his obsession with her the months before their first encounter.
Jamie is the only one who seems to have any sense at all, except for the fact that he loves Sarah. Why? what is wonderful about Sarah? She’s just so selfish. She never really thinks of what’s best for Jamie or what he wants. It’s all about her and what she wants and her poor tortured childhood. The sad thing is he eats it up. The rest of the characters are pretty much throwaways that I could despise for different reasons.
By now, I’m sure you’ve gathered that I didn’t like this book. I tried to. I really did. Perhaps if Maguire’s writing had been something more than ordinary I would have. It wasn’t, however and so I got nothing out of it.