No Regrets Review
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Dr. Noelle Blanche is a smart woman with no life outside her work. She spends her days teaching at the university—and instead of going out with the girls at night, she goes home and decodes ciphers. The sweet and innocent redhead has never done anything that would make her any enemies—or so she thought.

One night, Noelle’s home is invaded by a team of armed men. When she tries to hide in her basement, she’s found by a man who claims to be there to help. Though she’s shot with a tranquilizer dart, the mysterious man gets her out of the house—killing armed men left and right—and whisks her away to safety.

David Wolfe was once a military guy—until a terrorist organization called the Swarm tortured and killed his wife, Mary. After the tragedy, he left the military and spent two years in hiding—until his former commander asked him to do one more mission. His job is now to protect Dr. Blanche, who’s probably the only one who can crack the code that the government’s found—one that reveals the location of weapons left over from the Cold War. The Swarm also has the code—and they, too, know that Dr. Blanche is their only hope of cracking it.

Filled with guilt and anger over his wife’s death, David promises himself that he won’t let the same thing happen to Noelle. And he won’t compromise her safety by getting too attached. But as Noelle works on the code in his friend’s cabin in the middle of nowhere, David finds that she’s not easy to resist.

Although I’ve been known to occasionally read 19th-century classics while lying on the beach, I’m actually a sucker for chick lit. I’ll even overlook some obvious and predictable plotlines—or some thinly-drawn characters—if the book is at least fun to read. But No Regrets wasn’t. To begin, the characters are just too obvious. There’s the gorgeous, beefy tough-guy who’s actually sweet and sensitive—and though he’s a tiger in the sack, what he really wants is to make a commitment to one wonderful woman and raise a family. And there’s the plain-jane, 25-year-old doctor, who’s shy and freakishly smart and totally inexperienced with men. Everything about the characters is cliché—right down to their deepest, darkest secrets and desires.

On top of the cliché characters, the story is also difficult to believe. It’s as sappy as it is predictable. The corny dialogue doesn’t help—and the characters’ raging hormones in the midst of a life-or-death crisis only makes it more laughable. I was hoping that I’d at least have the story’s action and suspense to fall back on, but the action is light. It feels like it was written as filler—as something to do when the characters aren’t having sex. As a result, I spent a lot of time rolling my eyes and chuckling while reading No Regrets. It’s a novel that only the most hardcore (and the least selective) of romance readers will be able to enjoy.

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