[For the English translation, see the texts in grey below]
En bok jag hatade, hmmm… Där fick man tänka efter, men till slut kom jag på en och bara minnet av den får blodet att koka.
Det finns böker som får mig att undra: hur blev det här
publicerad? Hur i helvete kom den här boken min väg, och varför läste jag den? All About Love av Stephanie Laurens är
en sådan bok. En bok som jag inte bara hatar, men får mig att hata mig själv
för att ha slösat tid på den. Den här boken är dålig helt enkelt. Det är inte
för att den är en typiskt ”Harlequin”; jag älskar en bra regency romance, och läser mycket i den genren. Men den här var
dålig. Orkar inte ens förklara varför för jag vet att om jag börjar så kommer
jag att skriva en lång rant, och
efter det kommer jag att vara irriterad på mig själv att jag slösade min tid på
att skriva ranten som ingen kommer
att orka läsa.
A book I hated, hmmm... Well, I had to think about this one for a while, but when I finally did think of a book I hated, even the memory of it made my blood boil!
There some books that really beg the questions: how was this published? How the hell did this book come my way and why did I read it? All About Love by Stephanie Laurens is one such book. This is a book that I not only hate, but it makes me hate myself for wasting my time on it. This book is just bad. And it's not because it's a typical Mills & Boon; I love myself a regency romance and read a lot in that genre. But this one is just bad. I don't even ork explaining why because I know that if I start, it will turn out to be a long rant, and when I'm done I'll just be irritated with myself for wasting my time writing a rant that no one could be bothered to read.
A book I hated, hmmm... Well, I had to think about this one for a while, but when I finally did think of a book I hated, even the memory of it made my blood boil!
There some books that really beg the questions: how was this published? How the hell did this book come my way and why did I read it? All About Love by Stephanie Laurens is one such book. This is a book that I not only hate, but it makes me hate myself for wasting my time on it. This book is just bad. And it's not because it's a typical Mills & Boon; I love myself a regency romance and read a lot in that genre. But this one is just bad. I don't even ork explaining why because I know that if I start, it will turn out to be a long rant, and when I'm done I'll just be irritated with myself for wasting my time writing a rant that no one could be bothered to read.
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