Donna Marie Rogers, $2.99, ISBN 978-1465854285
Contemporary Romance, 2011

It’s a given in a romance novel that it is invariably about a gal meeting and falling for a super-duper rich man. Well, Donna Marie Rogers’s The Perfect Blend takes on a truly inventive spin on that trope: what happens when a super-duper rich man meets a super-duper dumb woman that is happily bankrupting herself?

Once Bill left, Matt said, “See? How do you expect to keep this place afloat when you don’t even charge your customers for their orders?”

I don’t believe this. Why do I keep bumping into this kind of heroines?

Carrie turned to face him, hands on hips. She couldn’t believe the freakin’ librarian was standing here giving her business advice. “Not that it’s any of your concern, Matt, but I’m doing just fine. Now go file books away or something and leave me be.” She made a shooing motion with her hands.

I’m also tempted to making shooing motions myself at Carrie Lowell, imagining that I’m shooing at her with a scythe or something.

Carrie isn’t doing fine. Her ex-husband was abusive, she lost everything and is now on the verge of bankruptcy, but don’t anyone dare to tell her that she’s doing anything wrong. Oh, and she also refuses to have anything to do with men anymore because, as we can all see, she’s doing perfectly fine as this new independent and strong woman.

Fortunately, even if the heroine wanted to finish what her ex-husband started and destroy her life utterly, our hero Jacob Spalding is a super-duper rich man. It’s really painful being so rich and handsome, however, so he has fled LA to come live in Redemption so that he can be a nobody in a small town. He’s still keeping his money, though, because let’s be real here: ain’t no romance without finance, honey.

Luckily for Carrie, she may be bankrupt in the brainpower department, but she is super curvy and jiggly everywhere. Matt looks at her and drools every time, thinking inside his lust-addled head how better she is compared to rail-thin women. The author even has a character describe Carrie as “Angelina Jolie eyes and Dolly Parton boobs”.

Anyway, the only reason I didn’t have to completely throw my hands up in the air and throw myself over the wall is because, pretty early on, Carrie realizes that she needs to get Matt to help her do really hard things like making rational decisions. She will let him invest in her shop, for one, and his hotness and charm—mostly his hotness—lead a flood of thirsty women to cram into her place. Hallelujah, her business is saved!

Then begins the painful song and dance about how she wants to put out to him, but she will never trust him because her ex-husband was a monster so all men are monsters, et cetera. She then decides to move goalposts and cry and moan because he doesn’t act like he finds her hot and lovable.

This isn’t a particularly long story, but the heroine’s continuous antics in the land of the idiotic neurotic make me feel like it had been at least three years by the time I reach the last page and breathe a sigh of belief.

Let’s be honest, this “romance” is actually a business transaction masquerading as a rescue fantasy. After all, the guy laid down a lot of money to get her to put out, and for the life of me, I have no idea why. Surely there is a fun lady with big breasts out there that will put to him without him having to spend so much to save her business, soothe her constant insecurities, and act as her emotional tampon while at the same time becoming her punching bag each time she gets those moods?

Hey, it’s his money, so good for him if he’s happy with his purchase. I wish I can say the same with this purchase of mine.

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