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3.41 AVERAGE
3.41 AVERAGE
I was hoping for a little more mystery with the length of this novella. This predictable story could have been a lot shorter.
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
hopeful
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
lighthearted
mysterious
relaxing
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
A quick, holiday-themed mystery from the author of The Maid series. As Christmas approaches, Molly has sudden doubts about her boyfriend, Juan Manuel.
It's a nice little book, quick to read, nothing too taxing.
It's a nice little book, quick to read, nothing too taxing.
funny
relaxing
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
slow-paced
hopeful
lighthearted
mysterious
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Loveable characters:
Yes
hopeful
lighthearted
Another Molly the Maid tale? Yes, please! Molly and Juan Manuel’s Christmas story was a quick read that left me smiling. Honestly, I am disappointed this sweet romance tale did not make it past the novella size. I would have enjoyed an expanded version.
*I received an arc of this book from NetGalley. This is my honest review.
*I received an arc of this book from NetGalley. This is my honest review.
(ελληνική κριτική -και χολή- στο τέλος)
A grotesque little bout of saccharine drivel (mercifully brief) that makes one wish ratings came with negative values, imaginary numbers, or even the option to vote on an appropriate sentence for the author (though, to be fair, the jurisprudence of the Western world has wisely moved on from such medieval practices).
Molly — our ever-innocent, ever-delayed protagonist — observes her man looking a bit worn out as the holidays approach and begins to get ideas. Since Molly possesses the cognitive sharpness of a seven-year-old (and the emotional intelligence of the unborn), she becomes convinced that her “Handsome Juan” has been playing away and sets out to discover whether he’s turned her into some kind of festive Rudolph.
Even if the writing didn’t read like diluted vomit (or, more generously, a rushed attempt to cash in on the holiday season with something half-hearted and sugary), this wouldn’t qualify as a thriller. One might unearth more genuine mystery picking one's nose.
As for the finale — it is so relentlessly, nauseatingly sweet, you begin to suspect someone consumed an entire factory’s worth of marshmallows and promptly regurgitated type one and type two diabetes (possibly inventing new types in the process). Every saccharine cliché marches past your eyes until you can no longer bear the avalanche of grim little cheer, the kind of wretched, forced cheerfulness that feels like watching a 1960s sugar-coated musical on loop, where everyone’s smiling through existential despair and someone keeps force-feeding you marshmallows way past your vomiting point. There's merriment, gift-giving (insults would’ve been more entertaining), and, naturally, spoiler alert: matchmaking.
Avoid at all costs.
Ένα φρικαλέο σαλιάρισμα (ευτυχώς σύντομο) που σε κάνει να εύχεσαι η βαθμολογία να συμπεριλάμβανε και αρνητικές τιμές, μιγαδικούς αριθμούς ή τη δυνατότητα να ψηφίσεις την ποινή για το συγγραφέα (αν και το δίκαιο του δυτικού κόσμου ευτυχώς έχει ξεπεράσει τέτοιες σκοτεινές πρακτικές).
Η Μόλις, ηκαθυστέρα αφελής Μόλι βλέπει τον αντρούτσο της κουρασμένο να πηγαίνει από δω κι από κει ενώ πλησιάζουν γιορτές και της μπαίνουν ιδέες. Επειδή η Μόλι έχει νοημοσύνη επτάχρονου (και συναισθηματική νοημοσύνη αγέννητου) είναι σίγουρη ότι ο «Ωραίος Χουάν» της έχει παίξει κασκαρίκα και προσπαθεί να βρει τι φταίει, τι έχει γίνει και αν ο Μεξικανός την έχει μετατρέψει σε Ρούντολφ χριστουγεννιάτικα. Ακόμη κι αν η ποιότητα γραφής δε θύμιζε αραιό εμετό πρόχειρη προσπάθεια να βγει κάτι γλυκανάλατο για τις γιορτές και να πουλήσει σα ζεστό ψωμάκι, δε θα το έλεγες θρίλερ, έργο μυστηρίου (περισσότερο μυστήριο θα είχα αν σκάλιζα τη μύτη μου).
Το δε φινάλε είναι τόσο αμετανόητα, αναγουλιαστικά γλυκερό, που έχεις την αίσθηση ότικάποιος έφαγε ένα σκασμό μαρσμάλοουζ και ξέρασε διαβήτη τύπου ένα ΚΑΙ δύο (και ίσως εφηύρε και άλλους τύπους διαβήτη) κάθε γλυκανάλατο κλισέ παρελαύνει μπροστά στα μάτια σου μέχρι να βάλεις μόνος σου δάχτυλο στον οισοφάγο σου να μην αντέχεις άλλο τόση μίζερη ευτυχία τύπου Βουγιουκλάκη στα ‘60ies (βάλε και μια μορταδέλα ακόμη κυρ Στέφανε), περνάμε τέλεια, έχουμε ανταλλαγές δώρων (προσβολών θα είχε περισσότερο γούστο) και .
Μείνετε μακριά.
A grotesque little bout of saccharine drivel (mercifully brief) that makes one wish ratings came with negative values, imaginary numbers, or even the option to vote on an appropriate sentence for the author (though, to be fair, the jurisprudence of the Western world has wisely moved on from such medieval practices).
Molly — our ever-innocent, ever-delayed protagonist — observes her man looking a bit worn out as the holidays approach and begins to get ideas. Since Molly possesses the cognitive sharpness of a seven-year-old (and the emotional intelligence of the unborn), she becomes convinced that her “Handsome Juan” has been playing away and sets out to discover whether he’s turned her into some kind of festive Rudolph.
Even if the writing didn’t read like diluted vomit (or, more generously, a rushed attempt to cash in on the holiday season with something half-hearted and sugary), this wouldn’t qualify as a thriller. One might unearth more genuine mystery picking one's nose.
As for the finale — it is so relentlessly, nauseatingly sweet, you begin to suspect someone consumed an entire factory’s worth of marshmallows and promptly regurgitated type one and type two diabetes (possibly inventing new types in the process). Every saccharine cliché marches past your eyes until you can no longer bear the avalanche of grim little cheer, the kind of wretched, forced cheerfulness that feels like watching a 1960s sugar-coated musical on loop, where everyone’s smiling through existential despair and someone keeps force-feeding you marshmallows way past your vomiting point. There's merriment, gift-giving (insults would’ve been more entertaining), and, naturally, spoiler alert: matchmaking.
Avoid at all costs.
Ένα φρικαλέο σαλιάρισμα (ευτυχώς σύντομο) που σε κάνει να εύχεσαι η βαθμολογία να συμπεριλάμβανε και αρνητικές τιμές, μιγαδικούς αριθμούς ή τη δυνατότητα να ψηφίσεις την ποινή για το συγγραφέα (αν και το δίκαιο του δυτικού κόσμου ευτυχώς έχει ξεπεράσει τέτοιες σκοτεινές πρακτικές).
Η Μόλις, η
Το δε φινάλε είναι τόσο αμετανόητα, αναγουλιαστικά γλυκερό, που έχεις την αίσθηση ότι
Spoiler
παντρολογήματαΜείνετε μακριά.