Ryan Pierce is in town shooting the latest romantic action movie and attending all the right publicity parties. He wasn’t expecting to pick up the phone to an easy laugh and real conversation. So, when he discovers that his caller has misdialed, it surprises him even more that he doesn’t want the man to hang up.
Dar Phillips is the last man to get star-struck, yet his best friend drags him out to be an extra on a movie set. It’s a chance to meet the guy on the set who he accidently called, but he has to admit the lead actor is hot stuff. Could the loping mega-star be his phone-a-friend? And, when they kiss, is Dar ready for the paparazzi and accusations of betrayal by the man who now stars in Dar’s every dream?
Who did Dar fall for? The elusive Ryan Pierce, who can’t be seen with him, or the quiet, gentle man who’s just a phone call away?
This short 83 page story started out likeable enough, with Dar misdialing his phone early one morning and connecting with sleep-addled Ryan, who just so happens to be Hollywood's hottest leading man, in town shooting scenes for his current film.
They hit it off and Ryan writes down Dar's phone number, because that's what all closet cases do. And eventually calls Ryan calls Dar up to talk over the next couple of nights. Because, evidently, that's also what closet cases do.
The eventually meet up for coffee and the chemistry is still there, so they end up falling into bed at Ryan's rental cottage. Then the paparazzi are tipped off and swarm the place like the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz, only to catch Ryan and Dar in post-coital kissing.
And Ryan nearly slams the door on Dar's ass, leaving him on the stoop at the mercy of the reports. Classy move, Ryan, classy.
From there, both men are hurt, but realize that they are in (insta) love with one another.
[Is there a fire sale on insta-love this month, because that shit is in everything I've read lately? *sigh*]
Anyway, Ryan pulls his head out of his ass and makes an over-the-top gesture to earn Dar's forgiveness, beginning with an actually good scene with a truck load of my-sorry-ass-is-sorry flowers.
One daisy for each freckle I’ve kissed. One black-eyed Susan for every day we were together. One purple-pair for each time I was in your arms. One purple and white crocus for each time I’ve thought of you since.Flower flood, flower flood, flower flood. (But I did like that scene.)
My main issue with the book was the veritable *corny-copia* of Velveeta slathered amongst several pages.
movie-star-grade cockYeah, not quite purple prose, but definitely a nice, pungent brie that I'd have preferred left out.
Ryan’s hole fluttered seductively (*twitch-twitch)
“I wish I knew how to quit you” (not annoying when originally in Brokeback Mountain)
And last, but most certainly not least:
“I promise to tend to your garden regularly, my love.”
“Don’t ignore my elm,” Dar warned.
“I didn’t realize elm trees had nuts,” Ryan mused. “But I promise to tend to them regularly.”
Less cheese = more stars.
My copy of the book was provided by the publisher in exchange for a fair, unbiased review.
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