Anita's Haven

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BRIDE WITHOUT A GROOM by AMY LYNCH – my review no.19

on 31/05/2015

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THE TAMING OF A BRIDEZILLA – MISSION IMPOSSIBLE!

This is the perfect book for single girls in their 20s or 30s, who can understand and relate to the (anti)heroine Rebecca instantly! I can picture them reading it on a beach, sipping through it with ease and giggling, then commenting with gal pals on Rebecca’s perseverance, shopping frenzy and celebrity obsessions. They would pity her and then bash on Barry, debating on whether he was being too patient, or just typically male in playing it safe for as long as it suited him, his supposed infidelity serving him right, or something along those lines.

Rebecca’s obsession with brand names and looks, absurdly expensive wedding plans, the lives of celebrities and her own self, however, make her an antiheroine in my book. Cheeky is her charm, but she is so shamelessly frivolous and selfish that you feel like knocking some sense and sensibility into her. I’d love to see her and Bridget Jones exchange some ideas over a cup of coffee. I got till about half the book on the breeze of the author’s upbeat style and humour (take a bow, Amy Lynch, wonderfully defined writing style), but as you read on, Rebecca’s character gives a new meaning to superficiality. Getting an ARC, I promised to give an honest review, so I am. The author’s witty style was the only thing making the Bridezilla likeable for me. Rebecca is really believable, with her reality-show upbringing and gossip-magazines values, workday hangovers and morning painkillers with alcohol, skipping work, faking sickness to go on a shopping spree, charging her boyfriend’s credit card while he’s on a business trip, weighing whether to dump her or marry her. She reminded me of similar girls we all know, who are not evil, but you wouldn’t really consider giving them the badge of graciousness. But then again, perhaps I was thinking too much like a mother. The author did me a favour there – made me feel grateful for my life experience and age, and lit a red light in my head, warning me to make sure my daughter is not brought up anything like Rebecca. Therefore, my stars do not go to Rebecca at all, or her life story for that matter. They go to the author. Amy Lynch’s style is truly witty, her descriptions funny and illustrative, and her loyalty to her characters truly admirable. You know how they say when a child is less than cute – that only a mother could live such a face? Well, this author sure has lots of love for her character, and sticks to Rebecca’s inner voice all the way, the way a mother would. Every good comedy must have a reality sting to it, and I choose to believe Amy Lynch has packed that sting here, deep under the brand names and Rebecca’s ego-tripping monologues. A book is supposed to make you think and feel. This one has, although in a really quirky, awkward and unexpected way. I am definitely looking forward to reading Amy Lynch’s future books.

If you are looking for a funny, quirky, guilt-free, ego-boosting, sinfully sweet, layered wedding cake-ish summer read, knock yourselves out with Rebecca’s bride dreams!

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Book on amazon

Here is a sweet taste of Amy Lynch’s wonderful style and sense of humour – a sneak peek from the prologue (graciously sent by her promo team)…

Prologue

This is it. I can feel it. Four years of waiting for my beloved Barry to pop the question. Four years of hinting. Four years of dreaming and praying and wishing. Tonight’s the night.
He has chosen the perfect evening for it. You’ve got to give the man credit where credit is due. I mean, surprising me with an engagement ring on my thirtieth birthday in Jacques restaurant? It’s elegant class. I couldn’t have scripted it better.
I spied the velvet box last week, accidentally stumbling upon it when I was innocently vacuuming under the mattress. I’d already gone through his wardrobe and chest of drawers with a feather duster and rummaged through his bedside locker with a wet cloth. OK, OK, you’ve got me. I don’t dust. I don’t vacuum. I don’t wipe sticky things clean with wet cloths. Yuk! I admit it, I was snooping. But can you blame me? The suspense was killing me.

Fumbling with the box, so close to opening it, I heard the key in the door. Rumbled! Sneaking back later, he’d moved it. Next thing you know, he’s booked a table at the most pretentious restaurant in town. All deliciously suspicious behaviour.
The night is upon us. I have taken glam to a whole new level, even shelling out for a new posh frock, a designer one. The works! My tan is flawless, not pasty, not orange, just perfectly in the middle. My lipstick and shellac nails are a deep vixen red. It’s the kind of colour that says ‘Yes, I’ll marry you, my darling. And I’ll rip you apart in bed later.’
Barry is driving so that I can have a drink when we get there. Super sweet! He probably wants to keep a clear head. You know, for the proposal and all. I close my eyes. I love Barry so much I could explode.
‘Now, I just got you something small for your birthday. Give it to you later.’
He plays a good game, I’ll give him that. He’s throwing me off the scent.
Yeah, right! Something small, is it? I love the whole fake out. So devious of him!
‘Of course,’ I wink at him. He doesn’t wink back. ‘Sure, the best things come in small packages, eh?’ I wink again.
He glances sideways with a confused look on his face.
‘Yeah, I suppose so.’
Oh, this is great! Bless him. He really thinks he has me fooled! Of course, to spare his manhood, I will naturally act all, like, shock horror when he produces the bling ring. The poor man is probably sweating buckets. It must be so much pressure to ask someone to marry you!
He is concentrating hard on the road, probably practising his romantic speech. Perhaps he is considering whether he should go down on bended knee or not. Maybe he’s worried he’ll cry when I say yes. I send him a telepathic message.
Bended knee, yes! Declaration of love, yes! Tears, no!
The man needs his dignity, after all.
‘You’re quiet,’ he breaks my fantasy.
I’m thinking about my supersized reaction and visualising the smattering of applause from the waiters.
‘Just thinking how lucky I am. You know – being whisked out for my birthday, and all. Special night, eh?’
‘Absolutely. You only turn thirty once, right?’
Don’t remind me. At least I will have reached the goal I set when I was twelve to be engaged by the time I am thirty. I have no intention of failing. I will have scraped to the finish line by the elastic of my knickers. If he pops the question before midnight, I will be on target.

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3 responses to “BRIDE WITHOUT A GROOM by AMY LYNCH – my review no.19

  1. This is a beautiful post for Amy’s book, Anita! Love the pics 🙂

    Like

  2. B.J. Tiernan says:

    Anita, another stellar review. I loved how you put this review together with the pictures. Truly a future job for you–compensated reviewer. You excell at this task.

    Like

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