Vile Intentions by Savannah Rose
My rating: 1 of 5 stars
No, no, no, and one thousand times NO.
Last year I promised myself that I would never read another Highschool romance ever again. Perhaps there is a nice one out there, but the ones that I’ve had the misfortune of reading… They’ve simply alienated me with the genre. Strongly.
But the thing is, I didn’t know this was a Highschool romance. The blurb mentioned the male character being the husband, for pity’s sake. Who in their right mind marries in Highschool??
Regardless, when I found out, I was shocked and inwardly groaning, but I gritted my teeth and bore through it. I was hopeful it wouldn’t be too bad…
It wasn’t as bad as some other books I won’t bother mentioning, but let me say it was no less irritating.
The story is about this girl called Beth who is poor – and I’m mentioning it because it’s a big deal in this bloody story. Why, you may ask? Because the school she goes to is some big-shot institution for wealthy kiddos, and she’s able to attend only thanks to a scholarship. The other kids are clearly not happy about her being around, and for that reason (as immature idiots do in these situations) they have been bullying her for some time.
Surprise! Maverick (the male MC) is obviously one of the bullies, if not the main culprit. He’s British, ya know? God forbid you forget that, but even if you do, they will remind you every other sentence, don’t worry.
“But what are you worth to anyone here, to any team here if you’re back in England at the beck and call of your Queen?”
But back do him being a bully: if bumping into her, physically pushing her around, or throwing ketchup on her is not enough, this shit also happened:
“Hey, bookworm,” Maverick calls after me with a stupid grin on his face. “You probably wanna stop, drop, and roll.”
The acrid scent of burning polyester finally fights its way past the stench of moldy soup. I look over my shoulder in panic just as the flames reach my ass.
He sets her on fire. Let’s just take a second to make this sink in. The male MC, who is clearly going to be the main romantic interest, sets her clothes on fire.
Now, you are all welcome to check out my library and you can see all the messed up and dark shit I read. BDSM? Check. Non-consent? Check. Abuse? Double check. Truly evil and dark heroes? Triple check.
But setting a person on fire? And then giggling and shrugging and laughing about it??
Out of everything, this made me very, very angry.
But nobody cares, you know? Because Maverick is going to be deported soon. And to stay in the country he should marry a US citizen. And Beth needs the money he would offer to marry him, so of course she goes through with it. Countless bullying is forgotten overnight. Poof!
One day they communicate only through screaming and yelling and angry ‘fucks’ being thrown around. Then the next day they casually open their hearts to each other and cry together and confess their deepest feelings and fears.
His hold on me tightens, and it’s almost sad how much desperation there is in the way he clings to me.
Something is broken in this beast of a man. And no matter how tightly he holds on right now, I know that by the time morning comes, he’ll remember that I’m not the one who has the tools to fix him.
Then sex sex sex. Making puppy eyes. Smirks. Breathy moans. Sex sex sex.
Some random bullshit. They soooooo love each other now. Sex. Drama. The mentioning of whores and plastic dolls which seems to be a prerequisite for each and every bloody Highschool romance. Exes. Sex. Jealous other boys that want Maverick to fail at his hockey. Blah blah blah blah.
I just barely managed to keep reading.
I liked NO ONE. Not one, little character.
Beth was also annoying, with her abrasive personality, switching between screetching and smiling prettily, and unfounded vitriol to anyone that even seemed to have a smidgen more money than her:
There’s no confusion in my mind whatsoever about why this sharply dressed smooth-talker standing across from us, leaning against the polished mahogany table, is Maverick’s Attorney. He reeks of privilege and shady business so much, I’m certain it’s a personalized fragrance bottled and sold to morons like them at an obscene price.
(I’m sorry we’re not all intelligent, poor individuals like you are, Beth.)
And, by the way, apparently you can feel your pupils when they dilate! Well, I never!
I can feel my eyes dilating as Maverick stares intently into my face as though searching out my secrets.
The only thing I can feel dilating, luv, is the emptiness in my brain as more and more neurons keep winking out of existence.
P.S.: are Beth and Maverick married or not? We are told they got the license, then Maverick calls her his fiancé. Then the next chapter he calls her his wife. Then another character calls her the fiancé. Then wife again. Arrrgh, make up your minds, people!
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