This RITA® Reader Challenge 2017 review was written by Kim W. This story was nominated for the RITA® in the Romance Novella category.

Here is Kim W.'s review:

I will admit that my first reaction to the book summary was, “Cutting Edge in Rio!” which…might have been jumping to some erroneous conclusions. This is a tricky one for me to review, because while “Wild in Rio” is a miss for me, the writing quality is good and I can see it being a hit for a lot of people.

In the prologue set two years before the events of the novella, Padraig comes across Ever crying by the bay in his hometown in Ireland. Comforting her, Padraig gives Ever his Claddagh ring, a symbol of friendship that we later learn was a gift from his now-incarcerated brother. It’s an important connection in which they each feel, for the first time, that someone sees them and cares about them for who they are. It’s also the briefest of moments, neither learning the other’s name.

When we fast-forward to the Rio Olympics, Ever and Padraig are both looking to prove themselves. Ever has given up everything for horse-jumping, and needs to prove to her emotionally distant parents that her commitment is worth something. Padraig blew his chances during the London Olympics by partying, and feels he owes it to his brother and his coach to win this time. Neither character feels like they really belong, and both have huge hang-ups around money that ultimately create much of the tension in their relationship: everyone believes Ever bought her way into the Olympics, and Padraig’s lower-class background makes him equally defensive about his skills.

In this sense, “Wild in Rio” is an opposites-attract romance, but I think it would be fairer to say that it’s a love-at-first-sight/love-as-destiny story. In spite of their brief first encounter in Ireland, both Ever and Padraig have been looking for and fantasizing about each other every day for the last two years. When they find each other again, things move quickly. “Intense” is the word I would use – these are two people with INTENSE emotions. People fall apart, chests break open and cave in with emotion, souls shatter. They feel all the feels (and yes, they occasionally call them “feels”). The first-person present tense writing style further contributes to this continual sense of forward momentum and intensity.

For example, alone on a shuttle bus on their second night in Rio, Padraig apologizes for prejudging Ever and not recognizing her loneliness. Ever reacts:

Lonely. The word crashes through my body and breaks things. I’ve spent my entire life drowning in the unwanted fish bowl that is my family – exposed and dissected at every turn – but I’ve never felt as bare as I do right now under the spotlight of that one word. Because no one, not until now, has ever looked deeply enough to realize I’m swimming alone.

…My lips suddenly crave his like an addict looking for a fix. My one remaining sane brain cell warns that giving in might be just as destructive as taking a hit, because Lord knows, the withdrawal will kill me. But I can’t help it. I let my eyes drift closed as he lowers his head. …

“I have dreamed about kissing you for two years,” he whispers, his voice taut and tender at once.

This is where I think “Wild in Rio” would work for a lot of people, but not me. I tend to like romances that develop over time (except for forced proximity – oh my God, give me a snowstorm or road trip romance any day of the week). The intensity and acceleration of Ever and Padraig’s romance, combined with their many personal and familial issues, made it paradoxically harder for me to identify with them. At times, their reactions and language struck me as immature (“OMG. What. The Hell. Am I Doing? I really am almost making out in the middle of the bus”). I haven’t read much New Adult Romance, but I think “Wild in Rio” would fit, as the characters often felt more like college students than people in their mid- to late-twenties.

After one night together, they’re both thinking in terms of forever, and Padraig moves into Ever’s apartment almost immediately. When conflict re-enters the story in the third act, I was hoping that it would stem from their insta-love. That is, Ever and Padraig have built each other up in their minds over the last two years. How do they overcome this fantasy and infatuation? Where is the line between intense passion and lasting love? How do they negotiate a relationship when they can no longer spend every day holed up in the insular world of their Olympic village apartment? Does either of them ever get scared? Instead, the conflict focuses on the insecurities they have around money – interesting, too, although I think some of these other issues could have been more deeply explored.

I also felt that the Olympics as a setting was underutilized in the novel. There’s very little description of Rio itself, either the city or the Olympic village. We barely see Ever and Padraig in competition or training. I rarely had the sense that either character was personally invested in winning a medal for him- or herself, or in representing their team/nation.

With all that said, I do think this is a strong novella that would appeal to a lot of contemporary romance fans, in spite of it leaving me feeling “eh.” I think Adams does a fantastic job making me believe that these characters would come at their relationship with intensity: they are physical and sensual, which fits with their athleticism, and they’re both starved for affection and approval. And while I didn’t love the stream-of-consciousness first-person narration (especially during sex scenes…girl, finish what you’re doing and then tell me about it, okay?) Adams writes with appealingly lush details and surprising metaphors that I think are a real strength of her writing.

I know it’s not rational, what I feel for him.

…Screw rational.

Is there anything rational about a tornado? A shooting star? A Banyan tree? No, because they’re vibrant and loud, sudden and bright, messy and upside down.

Just like us.

Beautiful. Perfect. Rare and unbelievable. But not rational.

With Padraig, I don’t want rational. I want the tornado.

Clearly, Adams is very consciously writing a whirlwind romance, and I think the novel definitely works – even if it doesn’t work for me.