Flock by Kate Stewart

Miss Ma’am, it should be illegal to end a book like that. What. The. Eff.

I am not typically a contemporary girlie, so I already knew I’d have to suspend some disbelief, but forgiving the behavior of these men? Yeah, that was a hard no for me at multiple points. And especially you, Mr. Golden Retriever, my ass. You sketchy, manipulative, mother-effing—UGH.

I have feelings. 

Frankly, if that isn’t the best indication of how deeply this book hooked me, I don’t know what is. I am fully, hook, line, and sinker, sunk in this series now.

I’m all for a well-executed hottie Eiffel Tower moment, buttttttttt one mister man absolutely did not do it for me. Maybe it’s just personal taste, but he felt like every “stoner who took a single philosophy class” dude I knew in college, I did not sign up for that energy.

That being said, the mystery? The intrigue? The way this book had me questioning everything? Flawless execution. I was constantly piecing things together, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, and I loved that. What I didn’t love? The heavy-handed carrot-on-a-stick routine where the MMCs refused to give a single straight answer. The silent treatment, the cryptic nonsense, the unnecessary emotional whiplash—infuriating. I wanted to grab our girl by the shoulders and scream at her to demand these men tell her literally anything upfront. But what do I know? I’m just significantly older in my early thirties than her barely-20-year-old self (her words, not mine).

End of book one, and I will 1,000% be finishing this trilogy. But with one MMC already on my sh*t list, and the other? He’s firmly in my side-eye, glaring at you, I’m watching you buster, don’t try me category. We’ll see how this goes!