I don’t like romance, so today was kinda easy. All I had to do was pick the only romance novel I’ve ever actually finished. And that would be, Thought I Knew You, by Kate Moretti.
Full disclaimer: Yeah, Kate and I share the same publisher, but, aside from that, we have nothing in common. And no, I don’t get a kickback of her sales, so pull your head out of your ass.
I did not finish Kate’s book because I felt obligated to. I don’t even think she knew I was reading it. The synopsis piqued my interest, as did the excerpt, so I gave it a go (I was also lied to, just a smidgen, by someone working for Red Adept Publishing who’d gotten their hands on the novel before publication; they’d said the book was more thriller than romance). Did I keep reading with hopes that it would become more thriller-y? Nope. I kept reading because I was entertained. Something I can’t say for any other romance I’ve ever opened.