by Emma Hart
BAD IDEA #241: Sending a dirty text to your number neighbor.
In my defense, my friends did it too, and their neighbors took it as the joke it was.
He responded with a dirty text of his own. Next thing I know, I have a standing texting date every night at ten-thirty.
Until I have to miss it because the stray kitten who adopted me one week ago is sick. The only person I know who can help me at this time of night is my British next-door neighbor and local vet, Isaac Cooper.
I’ll keep him overnight, he says. Here’s my number to call me in the morning, he says.
I know that number.
Because I’ve been texting it every night for the last four days...
Number Neighbors by Emma Hart centers around Hannah, who texts her number neighbor "What's your favorite position", with her friends while drinking. A silly game turns into a few nights of steamy sexting dates. One date that is put on hold, when she rushes her kitten to her neighbor, who happens to be a vet, when she see's that he is sick. The handsome veterinarian has always left her tongue tied ... but not as much as he did, when he passes her his number to check in with him in the morning, and discovered he is her dirty talking number neighbor.
Fuck, I did not like this book. Emma Hart took a first person narrative, and just blew it up in the readers face. I did not need every single thought process that went through our main characters head. She just wasn't that interesting. I thought the idea of a relationship starting from sexting would be fun ... and maybe it could have been, but this book was just flat. The story fell flat, and was long winded. It was anti-climatic. There was no chemistry felt between the main characters. The romance was told to you, instead of writing a story that leaves the reader feeling the emotions. The sex was okay. Kind of repetitive, which adds to the boredom I felt reading this.
I skimmed the last half. This is a short book, and I SKIMMED. I rarely skim.
Number Neighbors could have been a steamy, yet sweet romance, but instead we get a cliché, anti-climatic romance, where the main characters insane grandmother is the star. Why? Just ... why?
Immy: "Have your sexting with the stranger and do yourself a favor."
Hannah: "Do myself a favor? How would that be doing myself a favor?"
Immy: "Push the button, Hannah. Flick the bean. Tiddly your winks."
Hannah: "You're way too invested in the actions of my clitoris."
I watched for a few minutes, skipping the so-called story in the beginning. I had no idea why porn makers did that.
Nobody watched porn for the story, Karen.
NN: You writing me an essay?
Me: Don't be so impatient. I had to watch porn for ideas.
NN: Does that mean you're wet before we've even started? Seems unfair.
Me: You're welcome to give yourself an erection if you'd like.
NN: You didn't answer the question.
Me: Yes, I'm wet. Now shut up and let me sext the shit out of you.
NN: *zipper-lip emoji*
Me: Thank you.
Hannah: "Where on Earth do you think you can wear that? Do you know your nipples play with your kneecaps?"
She threw the bra at me.
Grandma: "Have some respect for your elders!"
Hannah: "Why? Judging by that, you have no respect for anyone, elders or otherwise."
Immy: "We should get the worst of it done, but I'll text you. Now go have sex with Issac."
Hannah: "Immy! Shut - Did you hear that?"
Issac grinned as I was walking up the path
Isaac: "Yep. I agree with her, for what it's worth."
Hannah: "Of course you do."
Hannah: "To the shelter? Have you seen my willpower? I rescued that little shit as a full-fledged member of Team Dog and now he sleeps on the end of my bed."
Isaac; "I know. He woke me this morning by biting my toes. We have got to get his foot fetish under control, by the way. I'm not dealing with that on a regular basis."
Hannah: "Who said you're sleeping in my bed on a regular basis?"
Isaac: "Fine. I'll send you batteries for your vibrator and you can see how well that cooks you breakfast."
Hannah: "Point taken. Until the robots rise up, you'll do."