Sunday, August 21, 2011

Review: Meddling With a Millionaire by Cat Schield

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Title: Meddling With a Millionaire
Author: Cat Schield

Read copy: eBook
Published: June 1, 2011
Publisher: Harlequin
ISBN: 1459205650
ISBN-13: 9781459205659

Emma Montgomery wouldn't be manipulated into marriage as part of Daddy's business deal—even if he cut off access to her trust fund until she complied. The talented jewelry designer would just make her own way. Or go down trying. Too bad her intended groom—maverick businessman and former crush Nathan Case—made her stubborn stance so difficult. The heat of his touch had her nearly betraying herself at every turn. Resisting Nathan and regaining her money were the name of the game—but meddling with this millionaire might land her right back in his arms!

My rating:

Apparently this was a debut novel. I’m sorry to say, it should’ve stayed in someone’s drawer. It was absolutely template. And if it’s possible to go “too template-y” Ms. Schield accomplished it. There was an uber-idiotic heroine (I hate those “I’m a woman hear me roar” types that coudn’t possibly roar, not even mewl if their lives depended on it) that also happens to be a spoiled heiress, a testosterone-filled hero with 18th century concept on love that also happens to be a millionaire, the forced-marriage theme (hello, 21st century here!), hiccup-y pacing, plot-holes, tell-more-show-less writing etc.

Ms. Shield probably strove for endearing when she wrote Emma, but ended up with a dumb, silly, idiotic, incapable-of-fending-for-herself, thick heroine. And with Nathan the hopes result was probably an Alpha male with hunk-factor and lots of dough, and instead we got a self-centered, egotistical, unbusinesslike businessman who’s not even using his brain when thinking business, and doesn’t care for the fate of his company, just himself and his quest for proving his brother’s wrong. If that’s good business, no wonder our economy is blooming these days. Oh, right, it isn’t. Duh.

If this were a Harlequin Presents title instead of a Desire one, we’d also have a love-child or two. Lucky we’re spared that one.

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