Oh honey… buckle up, because this trainwreck of a book deserves a full warning. The writing? Hot garbage. Everything is told instead of shown, like the author had a checklist of “things the reader must know immediately” and zero skill in subtlety. And the cringe? My eyes are still recovering. Also, how many times can you drop the word “rape” in a single story before it stops being shocking and just becomes… irritating? Spoiler: apparently, infinity.
I kept reading, hoping it would get better when the kid finally appeared. Forty percent in. FORTY. And guess what? The kid barely matters. Just conveniently shoved into the story when the author remembered, “Oh right, we need a child now.” The plot? Ha. Anthony—the supposed threat—is “after them” but is really just a tiny fish. He dies, nothing really changes, and then suddenly, months later in the epilogue, the big mystery of who’s really after them is… never revealed. Oh, and she’s pregnant. Conveniently. End of story.
Continuity? Nonexistent. Dominick speaks Spanish near Peyton, she acts shocked—but wait! He already spoke Spanish before, no one blinked. He calls Damien “my son” ten times in ten paragraphs, and only on the 11th time does Peyton suddenly worry, “Hmm, hope Damien doesn’t notice…” Like, lady, he’s been hearing this for paragraphs. And yes, they’re supposed to be Russian—but none of their names are Russian, they barely speak Russian, and the one word we get is “babushka.” That’s it. That’s the cultural depth.
And the romance? Oh, the romance. The second half of the book is basically an instruction manual for banging nonstop. Nonstop obsession with pregnancy, illogical outcomes (she gets pregnant with protection the first time, but months of unprotected sex later… nada), and sex scenes that feel more like a checklist than a story.
First Nikki book I’ve tried, last Nikki book I’ll touch. If you enjoy eye-bleeding cringe, plotless chaos, and characters that make zero sense, this is your jam. Otherwise… run.