Rumble on the Bayou - Jana Deleon I started this one for my romance meeting thinking it would be a lighthearted romantic mystery similar to an Evanovich. Set in Louisiana, Dorie is an officer called in to do something about an alligator a citizen discovered lounging in her pool. Turns out the gator has a good grip on a backpack filled with drugs and money and as they remove it they also find a severed finger. Uh oh! Big time crime isn't something Dorie is used to and she's not looking forward to dealing with the big shot DEA's once they arrive on the scene.

Within moments (it seems) big shot, fancy pants DEA Richard Starke shows up berating the small town yahoos. He demands to see the schmuck in charge and is led to Dorie's run down houseboat. It just happens to be her day off and she's tanning in her undies when he arrives. Groan . . .

I gave up on this book for an admittedly silly reason. It ticked me off and was insulting and I don't want to get all pissed off when reading my escape-from-reality fiction.

So why am I so insanely angry? It's not the annoying and insulting "hero", nor the stereotypical secondary small-town characters, or the abrasive "I'm so tough" female officer, nor the silly unprofessional and unfunny bickering. Well, there is all that but I could deal until the annoying heroine discovers she has to ride with the snooty city cop/DEA and charmingly says:

"But I am not riding bitch (whatever that means) and there's no way I'm getting in a car with you!" She gave him a disgusted look. "Foreign piece of shit. Who the hell drives a Honda except someone with a stick up his ass?" She then makes a comment about riding in a 5 speed monster instead.

A little back-story here. I just bought a teeny "foreign piece of shit" after driving a big American piece of shit for a decade and dumping most of my paycheck into it for the past two years and breaking down more times than I care to reflect upon (not to mention the previous piece of Dodge shit that I drove before buying the Ford). Personally, I'd rather have a stick up my ass then hand over another paycheck to fix my car so I can get to work to pay for the car and the gas it takes to run the gas guzzler.

It was at this point that this annoying, tedious and filled with forced humor book hit the roof of my "foreign piece of shit."

Ok, rant over. Off to find something pleasant.