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A review by kzimm2024
Bitten by Kelley Armstrong
2.0
Its hard for me to dnf a book I paid for, but time of death is 56%. And it took DAYS for me to get to that 56%. It had some great moments that could have turned the spirit of the book around but no, that did not happen.
Its like being read a joyless manual of bitterness and bad decisions for werewolves. Clay was the only good thing about this story. I need to read something uplifting so I am moving on!
Spoiler highlights- Potential (wasted):
“What the hell do you want?” I said.
His smile turned to a grin, white teeth flashing. “You. What else?”
“Where? Right here? On the floor?”
“Nah. Not that. Not yet. Just the same old thing I always want. You. Here. For good.”
I wished he’d stuck with my interpretation.
He caught my eye. “I’m glad you’re home, darling. I missed you.”
I nearly tripped over my feet running from the room.
-------------
My gaze swept over his face, taking in the line of his jaw, the tendons on his neck, the dark blond shadow on his chin, and the curve of his lips. Heat started in the pit of my stomach and radiated down.
He swiveled back to face me. His pupils were dilated and I could smell his excitement. He gave a hoarse chuckle, leaned toward me, and whispered those three magical little words. “Time to hunt.”
------------
Clay sat down next to my head and handed me a drink. I took a sip. Rum and Coke.
He gulped his own, then leaned over me. “Perfect night, wasn’t it?”
“It could have been.” I smiled up at him. “But you were there.”
“Which means it was only the beginning of a perfect night.”
-----------
When it was over we collapsed on the grass, panting as if we’d run a marathon. We lay there still entwined around each other. Clay buried his face in my hair, told me that he loved me, and nodded off. I lay in a drowsy haze.
Finally I turned my head and looked down at him. My demon lover. Eleven years ago, I’d given him everything. But it hadn’t been enough. “You bit me,” I whispered.
(OH MY GOD ELENA, its been years let it go and find happiness for once!)
----------
Mending fences with Clay would mean surrender. It would mean he’d won, that biting me had been worth the trouble. He’d have his mate, the life partner of his choice, the realization of his own domestic dreams.
-----------
If I dwelled on my anger with Clay every second I was forced to spend in his company, I’d have turned into a bitter, waspish harpy long ago. Of course, some might argue that I’d crossed that threshold years ago, but that wasn’t the point.
YES you crossed that point and do not deserve the precious Clay baby.
Its like being read a joyless manual of bitterness and bad decisions for werewolves. Clay was the only good thing about this story. I need to read something uplifting so I am moving on!
Spoiler highlights- Potential (wasted):
“What the hell do you want?” I said.
His smile turned to a grin, white teeth flashing. “You. What else?”
“Where? Right here? On the floor?”
“Nah. Not that. Not yet. Just the same old thing I always want. You. Here. For good.”
I wished he’d stuck with my interpretation.
He caught my eye. “I’m glad you’re home, darling. I missed you.”
I nearly tripped over my feet running from the room.
-------------
My gaze swept over his face, taking in the line of his jaw, the tendons on his neck, the dark blond shadow on his chin, and the curve of his lips. Heat started in the pit of my stomach and radiated down.
He swiveled back to face me. His pupils were dilated and I could smell his excitement. He gave a hoarse chuckle, leaned toward me, and whispered those three magical little words. “Time to hunt.”
------------
Clay sat down next to my head and handed me a drink. I took a sip. Rum and Coke.
He gulped his own, then leaned over me. “Perfect night, wasn’t it?”
“It could have been.” I smiled up at him. “But you were there.”
“Which means it was only the beginning of a perfect night.”
-----------
When it was over we collapsed on the grass, panting as if we’d run a marathon. We lay there still entwined around each other. Clay buried his face in my hair, told me that he loved me, and nodded off. I lay in a drowsy haze.
Finally I turned my head and looked down at him. My demon lover. Eleven years ago, I’d given him everything. But it hadn’t been enough. “You bit me,” I whispered.
(OH MY GOD ELENA, its been years let it go and find happiness for once!)
----------
Mending fences with Clay would mean surrender. It would mean he’d won, that biting me had been worth the trouble. He’d have his mate, the life partner of his choice, the realization of his own domestic dreams.
-----------
If I dwelled on my anger with Clay every second I was forced to spend in his company, I’d have turned into a bitter, waspish harpy long ago. Of course, some might argue that I’d crossed that threshold years ago, but that wasn’t the point.
YES you crossed that point and do not deserve the precious Clay baby.