Scan barcode
A review by haleymfischer
From Lukov with Love by Mariana Zapata
2.0
As an avid romance reader, I want nothing more than to be an impassioned Mariana Zapata groupie. I really, really do.
But, after crawling through two of her books (this & The Wall of Winnipeg), I'm just having a really hard time understanding the appeal.
From Lukov with Love has all the fabric of a story I should adore. An enemies-to-lovers, ice skating romance? Are you joking? 10-year-old, Sasha Cohen obsessed me is shaking in her boots. Add slow burn to that? *chefs kiss*
Unfortunately, this read like an unedited first draft. Half of it needed to be cut out and the other half of it needed to be reworked and refined another dozen times. It was to the point where I had to re-write the book in my head as I read just to make it that tiny bit more bearable.
The first 25%? Insufferable. Took me five days to get through and I considered DNF'ing it every two lines. Being trapped in Jasmine's endless "woe is me" thoughts felt like a new form of torture.
From 25%-95%, I coasted—for the most part. To get through it, I simply *did not see* the poor grammar, the constant weight-shaming of a world class athlete (??!), the excruciating detail with which their body movements were described and each nauseating new way Jasmine found to refer to the color of Ivan's lips.
Despite its many faults, I was determined to stick around. Like I said, I really want to be an MZ groupie, okay? Please don't hate me.
And let me just applaud that my efforts finally felt worth something when I got to the "I love you" scene just a few pages before the end. That moment gave me all the giddy, stupid, warm fuzzies I'd been hoping to feel for over 500 pages at that point. It was rewarding enough that I even added Kulti back onto my TBR after I'd rage-deleted all the MZ books I had saved.
Oh how I wish I'd stopped there.
Because the subsequent sex scene and ending left me wishing I could get back every second of time that I'd spent tolerating this subpar book. Just like it had in TWOW, it felt forced, misplaced, rushed, unnatural and if I never have to hear a man's dong referred to as a purple mushroom again, it will be far too soon.
All-in-all? If you're already an MZ groupie, I'm sure this will be another hit for you.
But, if you just so happen to be a desperate wannabe that has been left disappointed and confused more than once by Mariana Zapata's books like I have, it's probably time to cut your losses and move on to better things.
Still leaving Kulti on my TBR for now though, folks.
But, after crawling through two of her books (this & The Wall of Winnipeg), I'm just having a really hard time understanding the appeal.
From Lukov with Love has all the fabric of a story I should adore. An enemies-to-lovers, ice skating romance? Are you joking? 10-year-old, Sasha Cohen obsessed me is shaking in her boots. Add slow burn to that? *chefs kiss*
Unfortunately, this read like an unedited first draft. Half of it needed to be cut out and the other half of it needed to be reworked and refined another dozen times. It was to the point where I had to re-write the book in my head as I read just to make it that tiny bit more bearable.
The first 25%? Insufferable. Took me five days to get through and I considered DNF'ing it every two lines. Being trapped in Jasmine's endless "woe is me" thoughts felt like a new form of torture.
From 25%-95%, I coasted—for the most part. To get through it, I simply *did not see* the poor grammar, the constant weight-shaming of a world class athlete (??!), the excruciating detail with which their body movements were described and each nauseating new way Jasmine found to refer to the color of Ivan's lips.
Despite its many faults, I was determined to stick around. Like I said, I really want to be an MZ groupie, okay? Please don't hate me.
And let me just applaud that my efforts finally felt worth something when I got to the "I love you" scene just a few pages before the end. That moment gave me all the giddy, stupid, warm fuzzies I'd been hoping to feel for over 500 pages at that point. It was rewarding enough that I even added Kulti back onto my TBR after I'd rage-deleted all the MZ books I had saved.
Oh how I wish I'd stopped there.
Because the subsequent sex scene and ending left me wishing I could get back every second of time that I'd spent tolerating this subpar book. Just like it had in TWOW, it felt forced, misplaced, rushed, unnatural and if I never have to hear a man's dong referred to as a purple mushroom again, it will be far too soon.
All-in-all? If you're already an MZ groupie, I'm sure this will be another hit for you.
But, if you just so happen to be a desperate wannabe that has been left disappointed and confused more than once by Mariana Zapata's books like I have, it's probably time to cut your losses and move on to better things.
Still leaving Kulti on my TBR for now though, folks.