Kristen Petersen doesn’t do drama, will fight to the death for her friends, and has no room in her life for guys who just don’t get her. She’s also keeping a big secret: facing a medically necessary procedure that will make it impossible for her to have children.
Planning her best friend’s wedding is bittersweet for Kristen — especially when she meets the best man, Josh Copeland. He’s funny, sexy, never offended by her mile-wide streak of sarcasm, and always one chicken enchilada ahead of her hangry. Even her dog, Stuntman Mike, adores him. The only catch: Josh wants a big family someday. Kristen knows he’d be better off with someone else, but as their attraction grows, it’s harder and harder to keep him at arm’s length.
I glanced down at the text while the light was red.
waste of time:
The Friend Zone reads like it was published decades ago. There are so many frankly toxic traits promoted, not to mention weird prejudices against… education? I honestly don’t get it.
I am team Tyler 100%. He is an educated, worldly man who speaks multiple languages, enjoys experiencing different cultures and cuisines, knows what he wants out of life, and is dedicated and loyal to his career and his partner. So how the fuck is he the bad guy in this book? Because he refuses to comply with an ultimatum? Because he trusts his partner? Because he leaves a voicemail with important information when he can’t get ahold of someone? Because he’s considerate and asks someone if they want to change before they leave the house? Because he wants to have an adult conversation about a long-term relationship that ended suddenly? Nope, you’re right; he’s the bad guy here.
Kristen and her ‘not like the other girls’ attitude was so disgusting. Not to mention how proud she is of herself for remaining loyal to her long-distance boyfriend while talking about how she basically forgets about him when he’s not around, is reminded of how much she loves him when he’s around to fuck, and then forgets about him again when he leaves. But, of course, a voicemail about career decisions is as good as a breakup so she can jump right into bed with someone else. You know, the someone else she’s spent all her time with while her boyfriend is away trusting her.
I’m sorry, is Kristen supposedly better than everyone else around her because she likes sex and banter, or is she a terrible person who doesn’t deserve love because she’s choosing a medical procedure to stop the debilitating and chronic pain she experiences? Somehow Kristen is simultaneously so disgustingly full of herself for the most superficial things and has so little self-value that she thinks an inability to have children means she’s not a woman. I’m unsure which half of that is worse because they’re both terrible.
But don’t worry! She’ll magically end up pregnant after one instance of unprotected sex because… she’s basically infertile and has been advised it’s incredibly unlikely she’ll ever get pregnant. But, love? Fuck off. If you want to write an inspirational or honest narrative about infertility and women’s health issues, do not include magical pregnancies and undo any small sliver of hope this bullshit book had.
Oh, and if the spoiler there wasn’t enough, my absolutely favourite narrative decision is always to kill off one half of a ‘perfect couple’ to make sure you have someone to write about in the next book of the series.
I was so angry when I finished this book that I put off writing the review for two weeks, but when I returned to it, I had not lost any of my fury. There is nothing redeeming about this narrative, and it reads like right-wing propaganda. Education bad. Women having babies good. Culture and understanding bad. Military good. Maybe I have too many brain cells to enjoy this garbage.