Based on the opening of this, I was really expecting more from the story. Unfortunately the author took the easy cliche ridden road and the result is a sugary sweet romance, despite some very dark themes. Tripp, the closeted champion's gut wrenching back story deserved far more attention from the author and his love interest, Marty. Marty initially came across as the sympathetic one, but by the end he seemed to lack compassion for Tripp's past and his current circumstances.The storytelling mostly worked, although the author at times, got carried away with her metaphors. The middle section dragged with the characters having several nearly identical conversations. Although there were a host of interesting side characters, the larger world seemed to be missing. Tripp is a superstar in the rodeo world and as such would be at the center of attention, having to deal with both the media and fans, but there never was any kind of sense of that. He was portrayed as just another competitor. In theory, coming out for Tripp was a high stake proposition, yet Marty acted like it was just him dealing with shame, rather then actually have implications for Tripp's career. This was a nice story about two men on the rodeo circuit, one an openly gay pickup man and the other a deeply closeted bull rider. The angst of hiding with his closeted lover drove Marty to the point of breakup and Tripp, the guy who can't see his way out of the closet he's in, just wallowed in self-pity and remorse over his own behavior when Marty broke up with him. There's some back and forth, together, then apart, then together and apart again, a shot of self-responsibility for Tripp, some additional drama in the form of hatred and homophobia, and, of course, a nice makeup session with the guys getting their HEA.
Do You like book Pickup Men (2013)?
Loved Tripp and Marty. Loved Kent and Bridge sticking up for Marty. This is just beautiful.
—sayan
Very fun, sexy read. Guh. Hot Cowboys... Hard to beat that!
—EmmaCeponyte
3.5 it was good, not great. needed more steam, maybe.
—Akila
