To be fair, the word "sadly" is only in the title so it flows better.
I've given up trying to figure out why I keep reading these freaking books (although I blame "e-book spice" on twitter for showing me tons of 50 Shades rip-offs every frigging day). Perhaps my book ADD is spinning wildly out of control, aided by the ubiquitous iPhone and access 24-7 to so many books I can't keep up.
Anyhoo, on to the latest version of billionaire bdsm boyfriend.
This one was memorable only for how badly it was done. If you're going to write one of these, for crissakes, do it properly! Don't give us a Hero who vacillates wildly between being a Dom, being a needy, whiny sappy type, to a controlling, stalking asshole. The guy talks about how dominant he is and how he needs her to submit, but they never do anything bdsm-ish. He handcuffs her ONCE, but seriously? Most of us who have been having sex for more than a couple of years have done that, mostly just to avoid boredom. She makes a big production out of yelling at him, "I might be your submissive in the bedroom, but you stay out of my career, buster!" What?
The heroine is a butthead - endlessly talking about her "career", but unable to see that necking in the office with one of the partners in the Talent Agency she works at could make her look like an unprofessional dipshit. Long lunches, late in the mornings, necking in the office, Jeez. In the real world this type of shit would get you FIRED. Quicklike.
(Incidentally, what the fuck are they teaching in business school/university/any post-secondary these days? The heroines of all these books seem to have taken the same class.)
There's a roommate with a bad boyfriend, a friend from out of town (and that whole bit served absolutely NO purpose whatsoever) and......wait for it.....as soon as heroine sees hero, she SPILLS COFFEE ALL OVER HERSELF. (This is because she's a fashionista and knows how to walk in her Manolos, so she wouldn't be the type to trip?)
And speaking of fashion, she really should have been working at a magazine or for a designer - that girl can call labels from 500 yards. She knew what EVERYONE was wearing, right down to the custom tailoring the hero had done to his Armani. Tiresome. Oh, wait, most of the guys who work in fashion are gay. That must be why it's a talent agency.
Oh, the whole thing was just shoddy. It felt like an Andy Rooney-Judy Garland "let's put on a musical in the barn!" production. If you must jump on this shitty bandwagon, for God's sake do the work.