Devious Obsession

Blurb
If you want to stay, you have to play the game…
" Steele O’Brien is everything I hate in hockey players.
He’s cocky, brooding, antagonistic.
I played his game, learned his secrets. But that was before I found out he’s my new stepbrother.
Now we’re at college together, and I can’t escape him. Or his demons. It seems that, for him, the game isn’t over.
He says I'm his to play with.
His to torment.
And he's determined to not only get under my skin, but carve his name into it.
Tropes/Triggers
DARK ROMANCE / DUBIOUS CONSENT / CONSENSUAL NON-CONSENT / SOMNOPHILIA / PRIMAL PLAY / VOYEURISM / BLOOD PLAY / MENTAL, PHYSICAL, EMOTIONAL BULLYING / SMUT . 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️
My Review
So, I just finished Devious Obsession, and let me tell you, it was a wild ride. First off, Steele might not be a saint, but compared to Grayson, he's practically a Boy Scout (or so I thought). Boy, did he take a nosedive into chaos faster than I could say "plot twist."
Let's talk about the main trope - the step-sibling one. Now, that's a trope that's never been on my favourites list. And when it reared its head in this book, I braced myself for disappointment. And boy, did disappointment come knocking. The trope had a good go, we have thousands of books now, so, seriously, can we please leave that trope in the dustbin of literary history?
And then there's my ultimate bookish pet peeve: rinse, reuse, recycle. I mean, come on! When the girls had to ditch their apartment and move into the hockey house, it felt like déjà vu from book one. And it just gets worse. I swear, it was like the author just hit copy-paste and called it a day.
And as for the plot? Well, let's just say it felt like searching for a needle in a haystack of steamy scenes. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for some spicy romance, but when it's the only thing on offer, it's like eating dessert for every meal - satisfying at first, but eventually leaves you craving substance. The smut scenes hogged the spotlight so much that I almost forgot there was supposed to be a story underneath all that steam.
Now, I'll admit, I was this close to calling it quits and DNF-ing the whole thing. But for some reason, I soldiered through. Maybe it was morbid curiosity, or maybe I just enjoy torturing myself with mediocre literature. Who knows?
As for picking up the next book? Well, let's just say my enthusiasm is about as high as a deflated balloon. None of the side characters managed to grow on me, and frankly, I couldn't care less about their upcoming soap opera drama.
In the end this book marked my first disappointment in hockey romance, and boy, did it leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
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