Debut author Dorian offers a romance between two attorneys on opposite sides of a Las Vegas divorce.
Tyler Scott, a single Chicago lawyer, wakes up to a late-night text from his mother, Quinn Scott. She says that she impulsively married wealthy Las Vegan Richard Brooks while under the influence of alcohol, and now the two are planning a road-trip honeymoon in a Winnebago. The next morning, Vegas attorney Mallory Moore is assigned her very first divorce case; she’s been getting over a breakup with her cheating ex-boyfriend, consoling herself with jogging, shopping, and dishing with her friend and paralegal, Amanda Amundson. It turns out that Quinn left Richard the morning after their wedding; Tyler, representing his mother, flew to Vegas and ended up in a conference room with Mallory, who has Richard as a client. A story of seductions gone awry unfolds as Mallory and Tyler, and Quinn and Richard, question their perceptions of commitment. The two young lawyers grow closer, but when she discovers an incriminating text on Tyler’s phone, she finds herself at a crossroads. Dorian ably delivers snappy one-liners and witty banter: “This isn’t a butt dial,” says Amanda, when she calls Mallory unusually early in the morning. “My butt lost its phone privileges when it kept calling that asshole, Rusty.” “That wasn’t your butt calling Rusty,” Mallory replies. “That was tequila.” The use of text messages as an integral part of the story is just frequent enough to be realistic without becoming distracting. Both Mallory and Tyler are intelligent, passionate, and funny, their chemistry rings true, and the supporting characters around them are just as fine-tuned. The climactic conflict is a bit obvious and it might have been resolved more quickly if the characters simply talked to one another. But overall, the novel offers frothy escapism, highlighting the wonderful weirdness of Sin City.
A sexy romantic comedy with memorable characters and plenty of humor and heart.