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HowdyYAL

Howdy YAL!

I used to be the blogger called YAL Book Briefs, but I grew bored of the handle and changed my name to Howdy YAL. I also respond to MJ. I like to read, write, eat truffles, and watch bad Lifetime movies. 

Dear Dante

The Warrior  - Victoria Scott

Dear Dante,

 

 

Yes, I’m doing it through a Dear John letter.  Despite the fact you apparently have swag.

 

You don’t though.

 

Your so called charm is annoying and shows a lack in character development.

I could maybe understand it for the first book and a half, but grow up dude.

There’s a reason why you are and always will be a screw up.  Well, maybe you’ll grow up in the last forty-nine percent of the last installment in your series.  But you disgusted me to the point where I couldn’t continue. Plus, the rest of your book didn’t do much for me either.

 

Here’s why we won’t work.  I’m a lady who has self respect, unlike Charlie.  I find you behavior eye roll worthy and immature.  I mean, considering you caused two girls to lose their souls for the time being I think you could grow up a little.  But you still remain the same immature douche you were in book one.

 

Okay, I’ll rephrase that.  You grew a little bit at the end of book one that greatly reduced how much I viewed you as a selfish bastard in the first book.  However, all that character growth is gone.  You are back to the same selfish bastard you were before.

 

Seriously, all you do is whine about how Charlie won’t let you get laid because of Aspen.

 

 

Who has to be one of the most pointless characters ever.

 

I hate love triangles.  And in a way I should be glad you didn’t have romantic feelings  Aspen.  But I really have to wonder why the freakity freak is she in this series?   She’s serves absolutely no purpose other than to couple up one of the remaining singles and to fulfill a part of a stupid prophecy that makes Charlie super sparkly special.

 

You know, if you want to fall in love with the normal girl.  She should really be normal.

I’m just saying.

 

And what do you see in Charlie, Dante.  I get that you call her your girl.  You only say that every other sentence.  When your not describing how sick her body is.  Which is a body you magicked her into having-by having her get rid of her soul.

Don’t you think there’s something a little wrong there?  Of course you say you miss the way old Charlie looked, but I remember how he made fun of her appearance for a good chunk of the first book.

 

Any woman with self respect remembers these things.  Obviously, Charlie doesn’t have any self respect.  And that’s probably why you two work.

 

You know, sometimes I’ll continue a book relationship even though I don’t like the main character.  Sometimes a plot is enough for me.  I know that sounds shallow.  Liking the mechanics of a relationship.  But sometimes plot is enough. If it’s spectacular. Here it’s just sort of all over the place.  There’s all these characters, who you tell me I’m suppose to care about but I just can’t remember who’s who.  I tried to make a chart for it, but it really was more confusing than The Ring and the Crown and there were like forty-five characters in that book.  I figured it really didn’t matter much either.  A lot of these characters solely existed for hook up purposes.

 

That to me is just embarrassing and cringe worthy.

 

Characters can be happy single.  There are lots of happy single people out there.  And if not happily ever happy, they are at least self actualized and don’t need a love of their life right that minute.  But try saying that to your story and five thousand  characters that exist because no one can be alone.

 

All I have to say is freaking grow up.

 

I don’t even care about the rest of the plot.  It’s so convoluted I couldn’t care even if I wanted to.  The prophecy to me is pointless, I mean fifty-one percent in I still haven’t a clue what’s going on.  And at this point, I’ll never have one.

 

Anyway, Dante, we’re through.  This is it.  Don’t call me.  Don’t write any more sequels.  Because I ain’t reading them.

 

Yours (well, formerly yours),

MJ