Neither did I. I’m going to blame jet lag. If you can find it gratis, go pick it up. For I Have Sinned is sort of like Julia Quinn’s epilogues – much better if you’ve read the book and super short. The paid version comes with three excerpts (one for each book in the series) so if your only option is paying the buck I should tell you the file size is deceptive. This story runs about 30 pages.
But I liked it, you could like it too. I’d buy another, so there you go. I love the art style they’ve chosen for this series. It’s strong, it’s visual, it’s chick lit without the cloying artificial aftertaste. I appreciate a well designed cover almost as much as a terrible one. (There’s a book coming out in August with a cover that makes me think “first anal experience” instead of “historical wallpaper”. You’ll know it when you see it, trust me.) So, nice visual. Alright – can we move on to the spoilers now?
The story itself is scant but engaging. A woman finds herself in Charley’s room (You may recall Charley is The Grim Reaper. The. Singular. That’s the story they are sticking with, one girl for all the dead of the world.) so there’s no question that our narrator is dead. The dilemma is how did she die and why? Here is where the spoilers come in. No really, they do. Stop reading this, go read For I Have Sinned and then come back or something. It’s thirty pages. I can’t help but give away the entire plot if we talk about it.
I hate it when you make me hurt you. Fine, but don’t cry about it later. I told you there would be spoilers and spoilers there now are. Our heroine has died of diabetes. I LOVE THAT. Type 1 diabetes is a nasty piece of work. It’s not Wilford Whatshisname on television explaining how the government can pay to send supplies to your home, it’s continual slow damage to a kid’s entire body. It’s a nasty vicious beast. Having her die of such a common cause is a nice change of pace from psychos in car accidents. What isn’t a nice change of pace is Baby Fever. Jane Austen, were she writing today, would probably have something pithy to say about babies and romances. “It is commonly believed that a story in need of extending…” or something like that. Whatever, I’m not Austen. Look! It’s a baby! Who can hate a baby???
I’m getting to the point where a baby in a short story or an epilogue makes me adopt the slow clap tone of voice “Oh. A baby. I hoped there would be a baby. This story really needed… a baby.” Can’t people just buy a puppy? Puppies are cute. Who can hate a puppy?