Sigh, y'all.

Sweet Home - Tillie Cole

At age twenty, Molly Shakespeare knows a lot.

She knows Descartes and Kant.

She knows academia and Oxford.

She knows that the people who love you leave you.

She knows how to be alone. 

But when Molly leaves England's grey skies behind to start a new life at the University of Alabama, she finds that she has a lot to learn — she didn't know a summer could be so hot, she didn't know students could be so intimidating, and she certainly didn't know just how much the folks of Alabama love their football.

When a chance encounter with notorious star quarterback, Romeo Prince, leaves her unable to think of anything but his chocolate-brown eyes, dirty-blond hair and perfect physique, Molly soon realises that her quiet, solitary life is about to dramatically change forever...

 


I'm going to start this review by stating that I grew up in Alabama and can be classified as one of those crazy ass Alabama fans.  So, you'd think that I'd be freaking ecstatic over a book set at the University of Alabama, yeah?  Sadly, that is not the case with Sweet Home.  The next bit of the review is going to be a slight rant on disregarding the wonders of research.  

 

So, to a slightly more normal person this may not be a big deal. However, if you are going to write a book about a college football team, it really is important that you get your shit straight.  Please. 

 

1. Week 3 of the football season in the book consists of a game between Alabama and Auburn.  NO. The Iron Bowl is always the last game of the regular season.  It is only the biggest game of the season, aside from a potential National Championship. It does not happen in week 3. Ever. This year's Iron Bowl ended Alabama's National Championship run.  If it happened in week 3, we could have potentially still gone (Auburn was a one loss team, the loss happening during week 4. They went to the NC. Alabama had one loss to Auburn in week 12 to Auburn). But, no, it happens in week 12 and a loss then can end your freaking hopes and dreams.  This aspect of the schedule is essential. 

 

2. For the love of God, not everyone in Alabama drops every.single.freaking G.  Please have, at the very least, one Southern person in your book that enunciates entire words. 

 

3. Let's also please acknowledge the fact that not every Southern person uses cutesy nicknames for everyone.  If I ever got called "Sugar Bean", I'd punch them in the damn throat.  

 

4. This one probably shouldn't be that big of a deal, but it is to me.  Alabama has never, and I can say this with a 80% assurance rate, and will never have a number 1 NFL draft pick as a QB. It just doesn't happen. I'll apologize and erase this section if it ever happens, that is after I spend an entire season basking in our glory because if we had an outstanding QB in addition to the already awesome offensive line that we draw in, it will be complete and utter Alabama domination.  Sadly, that shit doesn't happen.  Maybe I should get this author to contact Nick Saban...  

 

 

Okay, now that the crazed Alabama ranting is out of the way, I'll move on to the actual book.  

I guess if I disregarded all of the time I spent wondering if the author has actually ever stepped foot in Alabama, the book wasn't too horribly bad.  Yes, it was way to cutesy for my taste, such as this gem..

 

"A small smile transformed his normally hardened features and he took my hand and ran it across his ribs. "Are they all there?"
I frowned. "What?"
"My ribs. Is there one missin'?
My hand smoothed up and down his sides. "Okay, I think you've lost it. You think you're missing a rib?"
He exhaled a quiet laugh. "Just thought God took one of mine when he made you."

 

 

But it had it's moments of semi-hotness and drama that almost made up for some of it.  It did have more drama than necessary, but it didn't overly bog down the story as a whole.  My biggest issue is just the fact that if you don't know anything about the area you are writing about, make sure you do your research. Maybe if it wasn't about Alabama, it wouldn't have bothered me quite as much, but alas, it was and I spent more time rolling my eyes or laughing at the ridiculousness of the language than enjoying the book.