Mom’s Bookshelf: Creepy Gifts Only the Most Disturbed Daughter Can Love

So,  long story short a couple of weeks ago one of my GR friends was reading a rather disturbing bodice ripper.  Said particular bodice ripper was one that owned or was actually given to me by my mom.  Today, I decided to look at some of the gifts my mom has given me throughout the years.  And at the end of this little entry I’m letting you guys vote on the one you want me to read so that I can be scarred for life:

About the Book: It starts out with a pretty graphic rape  by an Italian prince who’s her brother in-law, and then flashes forward where the victim becomes a model years later and she’s getting death threats or something.  A hunky detective just happens to help her out and he’s able to make her come alive again in typical NA fashion (note this is not NA, it was published in 1992 when most NA writers were playing with Barbie’s or only a twinkle in their parent’s eyes).

Mom Gifted it to Me Because: It’s Catherine Coulter and Catherine Coulter is a queen (as you’ll soon find out based on some of these other finds).  To be fair though, I think she liked it because of the mystery angle.

Verdict: If you skim over the really graphic stuff, can control the eye rolling on the model’s obsession with the size of her thighs it’s okay for a book in the early 90’s.

About the Book: This hot movie star gets convicted of killing his wife.  But of course because this is a romance novel he’s totally innocent and being the bad ass that he is he breaks out of jail and kidnaps a virgin.   And of  course they make sweet love and that’s enough for her to love him, even though she thinks he’s a murderer.  But her prude relatives finally smack some  sense in her to turn him and in and then she finds out he’s innocent….(gasp).

Mom gifted it to me because: I actually begged her to read this one.  To be honest, I sort of stole it from her hidden stack before she gifted it to me.

Verdict: I really do like this book in a guilty pleasure sort of way and I love it’s companion prequel Paradise even more.  Note, if you don’t like ridiculously unrealistic romances you’re not going to like this one.

About the Book: Imagine if Lois Lane got into a plane crash and woke up and everyone thought she was married to Bruce Wayne, who in this universe was running for senate and  Lois found out someone was trying to kill the Batman.  This is that book except there’s no Batman and Lois Lane is not in love with Superman. In fact, she’s not Lois Lane even though the MC desperately wants to be.

Mom gifted it to me because: The plot she said was soooo good.

Verdict: A bit of a let down the Bruce Wayne wannabe was a bit too much of a jerk for my tastes, and Lois Lane was just so boring.  I really did want Superman to appear and give this book a bloody love triangle.  That’s something no one should ever wish for.

What’s the Book About: Here is where Catherine Coulter fucks up books in such a way you can’t help reading because they’re so freaking messed up.  This one starts off with the MC getting abused then she basically gets sold into marriage with a guy who wants nothing to do with her while falling in love with an asshole. There’s a lot more going on there, but since I don’t want to disturb anyone’s reading experience of this wonderful fuckery I’m not going to spill.

Mom gifted it to me because: Queen Catherine wrote it.

Verdict: It’s one of those books I read on occasion just for the sheer fuckery of it.  You can’t even rip into it that’s how horrible it is.  But the fact that Coulter just piles on shitastic event after another makes you keep reading on.

About the Book: An overly perky coed develops DID in the days it was known as MPD and psychology was in its awful 90’s state.

Mom Gifted it to Me: At the ripe old age of eleven, I think.  I was an advance reader.  To be honest though, even though they’re murder mysteries Mary Higgins Clark books are pretty vanilla.  This one is a little bit more graphic than most, but it’s nothing if you look at some of the other fuckery in my mom’s hidden shelf.

Verdict: I love it.  Sure, Higgins Clark has bland characters.  And you always know what to expect.  But this is one of those books I can go back and read because it’s just so vanilla-ly horrible.