I can honestly say that I don't think I've ever read anything that is both adorable and racy. I'm not normally one for racy romances, but Little Things is so well-written, so funny and deals with social anxiety* in such an authentic, touching way that the risqué parts (not an overwhelming aspect anyway) are fine.
There is humor that makes you smile ("The chrysanthemums looked like Iron Man and Harry Potter had made the colour selections, and then decided to go for broke on volume.") and heartache that may be all too familiar ("Getting up was hard, but necessary. Smiling was even more so. She crinkled her eyes and bared her teeth and trusted the world not to know the difference.")
Little Things is short, but its length works, the relationship is sweet and the writing (it bares mentioning again) is fantastic. It's only 99 cents on Amazon, but I would have paid more...it's that good!
There is humor that makes you smile ("The chrysanthemums looked like Iron Man and Harry Potter had made the colour selections, and then decided to go for broke on volume.") and heartache that may be all too familiar ("Getting up was hard, but necessary. Smiling was even more so. She crinkled her eyes and bared her teeth and trusted the world not to know the difference.")
Little Things is short, but its length works, the relationship is sweet and the writing (it bares mentioning again) is fantastic. It's only 99 cents on Amazon, but I would have paid more...it's that good!
*For anyone who has ever suffered social anxiety, particularly the fear of being looked at and judged, this story is more than just a story. It's like finding someone else who understands you.
I can probably count on one hand the amount of fiction I've read where the main character is portrayed as human and real and not automatically "undateable" because she has genuine fears and concerns and anxieties and has daily mantras like the one below. Fiction like this has the power to make a bad day better.
“You have this,” she reminded herself. “Just little longer and you can go home.” She breathed, folding her tears back inside and gently placing the hurting, overwhelmed portion of her psyche in a small mental box.
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