Cupid F*cks Up / My Troyboy Is a Twat — a review 

I often have a hard time reading about the same couple book after book. I feel like authors start throwing stuff at us just to “keep it interesting”. But Paula Houseman’s story of Ruth Roth was compelling enough that I went ahead and decided to keep going(read my review of Odyssey in a Teacup HERE). I’m glad I did.

I’m pretty sure the visceral realness of Ruth’s life is what makes for good reading, here. Things happen and don’t happen and there’s an ebb and flow that is natural and carries the reader along. While Houseman doesn’t throw crazy at us to make things happen, the natural order of Ruth’s life is such that crazy happens anyway. It’s how Ruth grows and handles the crazy that really makes the story. Ruth’s growth as a character is amazing, not because it happens, but because like any real person, Ruth has setbacks. She doesn’t just get an amazing life and call out a day. Some days, she barely gets out of bed. But that’s really what makes these books so enjoyable to me. There is no fairytale.

Not one part of these books had felt forced. And the fact that Ruth, once again, loses out on a fairytale she didn’t want gives the reader a connection. Both these books are still about Ruth finding who she is. Purging the storage unit’s worth of baggage bestowed upon her by her life to date isn’t as easy as it seems, and you can tell that Ruth and Ralph and the gang are on a B-grade road… with no pavement in sight.

This series is truly engaging and really lets you laugh and cry at the tragicomedy that is life. Pick them up by clicking on the images below.

Ruth Roth is a straight shooter. Pity Cupid’s not.

Smart-mouth Ruth is an inspirational humour columnist for a popular women’s magazine. Recently divorced, she has found the love of her life. Without any help, mind you, from the little fat love god. Ruth has decided she herself is her one and only.

And she’s in a comfy place. Why wouldn’t she be? No need to yell ‘Put the bloody toilet seat down!’ No need to hoover toe-nail clippings off the carpet.

But then a silver-tongued Prince Charming fronts up in his shiny Merc and tickles her discarded, little-girl fantasies. He tells her their love is written in the stars.

It must be a misprint.

A romance with this particular PC is not so PC! Still …

Ruth’s life plays out more like ancient myth than fairytale. And what hot-blooded woman can resist forbidden fruit?

There’s a problem, though. Ruth does not have a hot-blooded mum. Ruth has a pain-in-the-arse mum whose squawking disapproval cranks the taboo up a notch.

All the more reason to take up with the stud! But it means taking on the harpy.

Tensions mount, and even Ruth’s man can’t protect her from the trash-talking voices in her head. It looks like he can’t muzzle his own either. When an earth-shattering revelation causes him to give her grief, it makes her feel like she’s dating her mother.

Taking the kind of advice she doles out to her readers is not so easy, and Ruth wonders if this love can survive. More to the point, is it worth the trouble?

  Ruth Roth’s new husband can’t keep it in. If only he had all those years ago, things might be different now.

His big mouth sends every family member into hell. Except for Ruth’s late mother. She blows in from there. Seems the woman just won’t die. Or let up. Faaaark!

As if Mama’s earbashing isn’t enough, everyone else needs a scapegoat. Ruth is it. Somehow, this mess is her fault.

With everything falling apart, she feels overwhelmed. Until a hunky celebrity pants man—who clearly wants to get into hers—befriends her and makes her feel all warm and fuzzy. At the same time, an educated silicone seductress has designs on hubby.

Temptation abounds. But it’s overshadowed when a startling discovery throws Ruth and her man into uncharted waters, and life comes crashing down.

Ruth has survived plenty with the help of her friends. And as a writer, her wry wit, dirty muse, and a bent for ancient mythology have sustained her. This, though, might be her undoing.

Author Bio

– Paula Houseman was once a graphic designer. But when the temptation to include ‘the finger’ as part of a logo for a forward-moving women’s company proved too much, she knew it was time to give away design. Instead, she took up writing. 

She found she was a natural with the double entendres (God knows she’d been in enough trouble as a child for dirty wordplay). 

As a published writer of earthy chick lit and romantic comedy, Paula gets to bend, twist, stretch and juice up universal experiences to shape reality the way she wants it, even if it is only in books. But at the same time, she can make it more real, so that her readers feel part of the sisterhood. Or brotherhood (realness has nothing to do with gender).

Through her books, Paula also wants to help the reader escape into life and love’s comic relief. And who doesn’t need to sometimes?

Her style is a tad Monty Pythonesque because she adores satire. It helps defuse all those gaffes and thoughts that no one is too proud of.

Paula lives in Sydney, Australia with her husband. No other creatures. The kids have flown the nest and the dogs are long gone.

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