A Certain Chemistry - Mil Millington - 416 pages
Err. This is the second romance I've read that takes place in the United Kingdom this month. It's not bothering me; I'm just going to start referring to fries as chips and cookies as biscuits and President Obama as His Royal Highness. All hell will break loose and I'll be yelling "BOLLOCKS!" all the way to the pub while ripping out my hair and driving on the wrong side of the road.
Bugger that idea. Bugger Mil Millington for writing A Certain Chemistry. Bugger Tom Cartwright for being a ghostwriter that gets to shag a famous--and insanely hot--Scottish actress named Georgina Nye. Bugger his girlfriend Sara for being... well, the perfect girlfriend. And bugger God for interjecting every few chapters and giving his opinion on why Tom cheats on Sara. Bugger Hugh Grant. Because, well, I kept picturing Tom as Hugh Grant. The git.
Sara and Tom have been together for about six or seven years. They're not married. They live together. Perfect relationship. Fine. Whatever. I just don't find it realistic for them to not of had the "I'm allowed to bang the following celebrities and you can't say anything" conversation. Hasn't every couple had that conversation? Apparently Tom and Sara didn't. Tom gets it on with Georgina after he ghost writes her autobiography and Sara finds out a little later. Tom is then in big uh-ohs and has a few decisions to make.
A Certain Chemistry is a car accident. It's slowed down to the point where you can see what's about to happen and it happens and then you're like "Bugger that!" or "Bollocks!" or any other slang term from the other side of the pond. Then it snaps back to reality where there's a young couple picking up the pieces of their relationship. And just like a car accident I couldn't look away. I rubber-necked their break-up. And it was good rubber-necking.
As refreshing as God was as a character it did bother me that Mil Millington's version of the Almighty came across as a Californian surfer dude/gal/entity. And that Tom is essentially the same character in the last book I read: charming, nervous, clueless, foreign. And that Georgina is the Angelina Jolie of the Scottish acting world; rich and famous doesn't mean tart, people.
I'm not going to blame Tom for ruining his relationship. I'm not going to blame Georgina Nye for being trashy. I'm not going to blame Sara for being perfect but boring. I'm going to blame God. Millington gave me that option when he made God a character. It's all God's fault they never had the "celebrity sex list" conversation. This could've been avoided.
"I heard the fizz of a match, and her speech became cigarette-in-mouth impaired."
Reminded Me Of:
Hugh Grant's mugshot. I've seen it before but that doesn't mean I didn't get a kick out of seeing it again.