1.0 out of 5 stars
Horrid Hero, Jun 19 2011
By Terracotta Dove - Published on Amazon.com
This was the first in a 2009 multi-author series, The Foleys and McCords.
The writing was fine, but from the beginning I just couldn't get past how AWFUL a father the male lead was. His bipolar wife killed herself and because the daughter grows to resemble her so closely, he won't spend any time with her. She died six YEARS ago, when his daughter was an infant, so her entire life is about being ignored, strictly regimented and bought off. He doesn't even live with her, comes to the country house THREE times a YEAR. (But he calls her every couple of days, so I guess that's OK). Her only company is staff, no other children or playmates. She's had five nannies in the six years, and it's made clear that those nannies left because they found the situation heartbreaking. I don't care that our heroine comes along and now everybody will live HEA. The kid will never recover from this, the pattern he set will influence every future relationship she has.
He is one of the most self-absorbed characters I've ever read. He knows he is a bad father, but even that knowledge is all about him. He has a weird urge to self-flagellate, so it's just another spur. His wife's disease is again, all about him; never even occurs to him that it might have been an issue for her, too. Let me say again, SIX YEARS! Obviously, time has offered no perspective: this isn't grief, this is just who he is.
As for the heroine, I have mixed feelings. She recognizes his neglect, even gets mad at him for it, but this child advocate never equates it to abuse. And is willing to be pacified when he buys her something, or they go to bed. Also, she has this melodramatic hang up about her background. I could go into that for another couple of paragraphs, it was so lame.
Oddly enough, I am not ready to give up on the author yet. She has written a couple of romantic suspense and paranormal stories, and I think I will try something along those lines. But SKIP THIS ONE completely.