This, no joke, is the blurb for a book that I stumbled across on Goodreads
“The third steamy interracial romance in the 50 Loving States series from the author of Amazon Bestsellers, THE OWNER OF HIS HEART and HER RUSSIAN BILLIONAIRE!
When Chloe Adams was four her shiftless shifter parents abandoned her on the side of the road. But now she’s a DIY domestic goddess, and engaged to the hottest alpha in Colorado –- that is until a sexy, time-traveling Viking werewolf shows up to claim her as his fated mate.
Hold on to your seats, dear readers, this book contains two rival alpha males, sizzling hot mating, and nothing less than the adventure of a lifetime”
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!
I am more than happy to suspend reality for a book. Hell, I frequently lose myself in horrible, gawd-awful books about werewolves, vampires, witches, etc and I like it. No, I love it. But this? THIS?! What the actual fuck?
All I can say is thank gawd I didn’t read this description when out in public or at work because I laughed so freakin hard I cried. It was also kind of a loud, braying laugh so I’m even more grateful there were no witnesses…
A “time-traveling Viking werewolf”. Wow. Just wow. What cocktail of drugs do you have to smoke, shoot and/or snort to come up with that craptacular idea?
Since when is just a werewolf not enough? When did that become boring and mundane? Now he’s got to be a time-traveling Viking as well? Maybe next time he’ll be from another world as well? Or a parallel dimension? Or arms for legs/legs for arms? A penis on his forehead?