By Tiana Wilkins


Buy now link: (I don’t advise it…Who would honestly pay $19.99 for a self-published book, other than friends and family members guilt-tripped into it???)

Rating:  I can’t in good conscience give this book a rating—just internet-created text-gestures of pain and frustration: *facepalm* *headdesk*

Reviewer: Ash (side note: this was a HARD review to write. I didn’t want to be to harsh, but I lost 2 hours of my life to this train wreck.)

Cassie Daniels is failing math, dealing with ulcers, and in deep shit 90% of the time with her stepmother and stepsisters. Enter Kevin, the hot college-age tutor, and somehow this story is supposed to be a ‘Cinderella’ story….

This is book is one of the prime examples of why I absolutely cringe in dread when a self published novel ends up in my inbox. My reviewers and I draw straws over who gets the said novel, and I drew the short straw this time.

This book went above and beyond a few nitpicky editing issues. This is a full-on trainwreck. The author took on an immature subject and handled it with even more immaturity. She took an abused teenager (one who was far too old and intelligent to even put up with the crap in the first place) and turned her into an abuser. She went back and forth between what seems like a YA audience and an adult audience and created a dull, blathering monster that appeals to neither.

She switches tenses mid-sentence, does whole pages in past tense, and then for no reason whatsoever, she goes into present tense. Grammatical issues abound. Words used out of context, misspelled, the wrong word entirely. It reads like a Mary-Sue-ed fanfiction of Cinderella Story (the one with the Duff chick), with the addition of rampant teen sex (VERY oddly written sex scenes–more like aliens with multiple appendages penetrating each other at the same time rather than two humans having sex), a homicidal stepmother, a stomach ulcer that turns into a tumor and then back into an ulcer, and the monikers “fat bitch,” “fat slut,” “bitch,” “fat whore,” “ungrateful whore/bitch/slut” ad infinitum. As the book went on, it got more and more convoluted, like she couldn’t figure out where to end it or how, so she just kept dumping stuff in until every possible element from lonely, unimaginative teen girls’ wet-dream-fantasy material was included. I was waiting for sparkly vampires to show up.  I absolutely hated how the abused became the abuser, all in the questionable name of ‘empowerment’.

There were no indications of scene transitions and the last two or three chapters of the book skipped ahead a few years with no explanation or warning. There was this wierd quasi-subplot about an addiction to Tylenol PM.

 It’s a book written by a very immature (skill-wise) and completely unprepared writer on a topic that’s dealt with very immaturely. It could have BEEN a good book, had she taken the time with beta readers, editors, and a traditional publisher with in-house editing rather an a self-publisher. I’m begging you, Ms. Wilkins, BEFORE you pay to publish your next book, PAY A PROFESSIONAL EDITOR, one with applicable, relevant, fiction-writing experience, to edit your book. If you put all the effort into WRITING a book, put a little bit more into the presentation. If you can’t afford an editor, find crit partners or beta readers. Please, for the love of all that holy, please, please, do your intended audiences a favor—if you’re going to charge $20 for a book, make it worth the readers’ money.


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