White Palace by Glenn Savan

“So, AR, will I like this book? Is this the book for me?” Ah, gentle reader – allow me to advise. Have you recently read anything with Stepbrother in the title and just “omg melted into a puddle of goo?” If you said yes to this question just move along. Do you 5 star books with heroes that have 6 packs? 8 packs? Names that belong to exotic birds and men on soap operas? Again – this is not your book, and I am not your reviewer.
But if you’re here for the words, the imagery, the magic of being transported some place other then this is the book for you.
I could tell you about the story – Max is a wound up weirdo who meets white trash Nora – but it doesn’t matter. In White Palace what matters are the sentences. The paragraphs. The phrases that make you murmur “goddamn” right before you set your book down and stare off into space. Maybe you’ll pick it up and read that line again. 3 times. 4. Bc yeah – this kind of writing doesn’t come along very often.
The book is grimy. Dirty. Sordid. And deliciously 80s. The 80s-ist thing I’ve ever read. There were moments I wanted to shower. Wash my hands. Sniff some Lysol. And there were more than a few moments when I wanted a tiny, greasy, grey, square burger. Better yet a sack of them. With their meaty stench.
If you’re not about the story. Not about the hero. Not about the romance. But if above everything you’re about the words – this is the book for you.

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