Here I was, thinking I was getting an epic tale inspired by Norse mythology. Instead, what I got was a bunch of horny, unwashed Vikings rubbing up against each other while going on pointless quests.
To be fair, A Fate Inked in Blood didn't start out badly. In fact, our initial introduction to Freya had me thinking she was my favorite type of female protagonist—strong and competent. The mystery surrounding her powers definitely added a level of intrigue. And her and Bjorn's flirty first meeting was charming, if a bit overdone for a fantasy. I thought I'd hit the jackpot, for here was another contender to scratch my romantasy itch.
But alas, as the story progressed, the shine started to wear off.
First there was Freya, protector of her mother and brother. She'd scream, cry, vomit anytime anyone would even hinted at a threat to them. When not engaged in such theatrics, she'd lust after Bjorn. Every single thought and sentence Freya uttered—and there were a lot because this was written from her perspective—was in service to those two things. And that's pretty much her entire personality.
Then there was the plot, such as it was. It meandered along happily, lacking that strong cohesive narrative that propels a story forward. At times, I thought I was reading Lord of the Rings fanfiction, first traversing stairs inside a mountain, then fighting the undead, then trekking up a treacherous snow-covered mountain. But none of it really contributed to the overarching narrative. Any of these scenes could've been cut out and we'd have the exact same story.
And then we come to the romance. In your face as it was, it somehow didn't do it for me. Every time we're in the middle of some crucial/mortally dangerous scene, there was Freya, fantasizing about ravishing Bjorn. We're pulled out of the action constantly to read about the slickness between her thighs and the throbbing of her core. My eyes could not have rolled any harder.
But it wasn't just that the romantic scenes felt jarring and out of place. It was also how incredibly dirty and smelly the participants were, which we're reminded of time and time again. Call me weird, but I don't want to read about vomit and pig shit and stinky sweat in the same scene as sexy time. That brings a whole new dimension to the phrase "getting dirty," and I'm sorry to say that I'm into cleanliness.
Usually as a story goes along, I get more and more into it. The characters grow on me, the plot pulls me along, and before I know it, I'm fully immersed in the world. But not here. Here, the characters were devoid of personality, the plot fairly directionless, and the only thing of note is the cringey, inappropriately-placed romantic scenes.
I know what my problem is. I have this habit of going out and acquiring subsequent books in a series before I've even touched the first book, hence jinxing the whole thing. And of course every time I do this, I end up not enjoying the first book. And so this duology follows the same pattern. On the plus side, I can now clear out two precious spots on my bookshelf in one go, so yay for a twofer.
Readaroo Rating: 2 stars