As soon as I found out there was going to be another book in the series that brought me Better Than People, I jumped on board with a request to the publisher.*
Taking place not long after BTP, Best Laid Plans features Charlie, the older brother of Jack from the first novel who has spent his life sacrificing for Jack since their parents died, and Rye, a down on his luck loner who has come to Wyoming after inheriting a dilapidated house because he has nowhere else to go.
I’m sad I didn’t spend more time looking at the cover, because it makes so much more sense now that I see it on my screen. I originally thought it was really boring, because the last one had so much feeling, but the title being on graph paper = genius, right; like architectural plans. Wow (clearly I need more coffee this morning).
Overall, this novel was fine. It wasn’t what I’ve come to expect from Parrish and it’s definitely better than a lot of other romance novels I’ve read. I can’t quite put my finger on what the one thing was that made me go meh. Some of it was the missing emotional wallop her novels usually pack. I mean, it was there but only sort of and was really glossed over in the vague references to Rye’s family being homophobic and Charlie’s almost complete lack of experience in the bedroom because he dedicated so much time to making sure Jack was okay and the business and house weren’t taken away. But even the conflict of the novel just fizzles and then dies away very quickly. Unfortunately, the only word I can come up with is underwhelming.
There were a couple of great moments including this one:
Having inadvertently tested their structural integrity with his whole body, Rye ascended the rest of the stairs quickly. The room at the top had probably been a bedroom—Rye’s flashlight revealed a bathroom to the left—but instead of a bed frame or a dresser it contained only six chairs set in a circle.
“I do not have the capacity for this house to contain a satanic summoning circle,” Rye said.” (Chapter 5)
Which totally made me think of a scene in Bob’s Burgers where the family works to scare Louise for the first time with a haunted/murder house. And anything that can make me think of Bob’s Burgers gets a bonus point in my opinion. It’s the scene with the doll and the sticks and Gene whispers “that is not a good use of that room.” Gets me every time.
And there was this great throw away which is so true. I mean you find your people, everyone does whether it’s the queer web or the weirdos or craftivists, you just do ultimately.
Apparently he’s fallen into the queer web without even trying. (Chapter 9)
Honestly, I’m not sure if I’ll keep an eye out for a future book in this series and I hope this isn’t a sign of Parrish’s style changing. I really counted on her for the more emotionally struggling characters and beautifully written passages. Don’t get me wrong the book’s great, especially when you take in the fact that there was no anal sex throughout which has to be some sort of record/rare occurrence in a novel that doesn’t feature an ace character. It just wasn’t what I’ve come to expect from her stories.
Recommendation: I spoke too soon with my last response to a Roan Parrish novel. This one wasn’t quite up to snuff for me when compared to her other works. I mean it was still really good and better than a lot of others, but it didn’t have the emotional wallop or the beautiful descriptors of scenery I’ve come to expect from her stories.
*I received a copy of Best Liad Plans from the publisher via NetGalley in return for my honest opinion. No goods or money were exchanged.
Opening Line: “After sixteen hours of driving and a miracle that prevented his car from dying, Rye Janssen was exhausted and slap-happy, but hopeful.”
Closing Line: “This year, Charlie and Rye were dreaming a dream for both of them.” (Whited out to avoid spoilers, highlight to read.)
Additional Quotes from Best Laid Plans
“But Rye didn’t believe in luck. Luck was just what happened when you were privileged and didn’t know it. Inheriting this god forsaken house was the quote unquote luckiest thing that’d ever happened to him, and look how that was turning out.” (Chapter 3)
“From the ladder, he could see more of Jack and Simon’s house—could see, as well, the swatch of trees surrounding them in every direction, tops so soft and green that Rye felt like if he feel backward onto them, he’d be cradled like a baby.
The sky was crayon blue and the clouds were perfectly fat and white, like the drawings in a storybook, and why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about Charlie?
And watching him. The breath of his shoulders and the gentleness of his corrections. The way he squinted slightly when he was thinking and how the muscles of his back moved under the soft fabric of his green and black flannel shirt.” (Chapter 9)
“‘No, really,’ Rye continued as he pulled his coat on, ‘I could do Heidi braids. Or Princess Leia buns. You know, if you think that the associations might hoodwink a loan officer into giving me money.'” (Chapter 10)
“Congratulating himself on both being polite and passing wisdom to the next generation, Rye turned around and almost ran into a man and woman standing in the aisle, holding a pitchfork like a real life American Gothic. Rye reminded himself that since they were in a place that sold pitchforks it wasn’t as eerie as it would otherwise have been.” (Chapter 12)
“Rye had begun to call her Redrum instead, and Charlie had been confused. Which was how Rye realized Charlie had never seen The Shining, which led them down a weekend-long Stephen King movie marathon that reminded Rye that Stephen King was awesome and reminded Charlie that he didn’t care for horror movies.” (Epilogue)