I’m exhausted.

But I made it through book three - Fifty Shades Freed…

In case you want to catch up first, here is my review of Fifty Shades of Grey and here is the one for book two, Fifty Shades Darker.

{Before I dive into book three, I have to clear the air about something:  I cannot take credit for the expression *kinky fuckery*. Since quite a few of you commented on it on my blog and on Twitter, I though I should let you know that it’s actually from the book.}

And just an FYI - kinky fuckery is possibly my new favourite expression, but my customers don’t appreciate it as much as I thought they would. As it turns out  “Good morning, Mrs. Robinson, what kinky fuckery are you up to today?” is not an appropriate thing to say if you work in a hardware store and someone wants to buy rope.

So - Anastasia and Christian are now married and I’m annoyed right off the bat. They keep calling each other by their last names - “Mr. and Mrs. Grey” and I’m considering calling the whole thing off and not reading the book, but it’s really kind of like a train wreck - it’s terrible, but you can’t look away.

Good for you guys, because here it goes:

Mr. & Mrs. Grey are on the last leg of their honeymoon in the South of France and he’s as control-freakish as ever. Has a total shit fit because she goes topless on the beach, almost strokes out when she decides to ride the jet ski without asking his permission and, well, kinky fuckery.

Christian also hires a bunch of French security guys that follow them around everywhere and I can’t help but thinking that one of them could possibly be Inspector Clouseau…

Back in Seattle it’s more of the same old same old, except now that they’re married it seems to me like they are “playing house“  (remember that, in elementary school, “playing house” - well that’s about the niveau right there).

And apparently kinky fuckery is part of 21st century playing house, because in the beginning, there is lots of that - as well as some half-assed anal. (<—- hee hee, see how I did that?)

Then it happens - the author tries to introduce an actual plot to the story. Something about sabotage and Christian’s past and after a few relaxing days in Aspen it’s all very dramatic and she gets pregnant and he gets drunk and his sister gets kidnapped and Anastasia pretends to leave him and takes 5 million $ to rescue the kidnapped sister and bla bla bla bla.

It would have been wise to stick with kinky fuckery.

But there is something even worse than the plot. There is one point when I’m all relaxed ‘n shit and I have a feeling there is more kinky fuckery coming up and what do I see: “…my fingers crossing his sideburns…” Dark copper hair AND sideburns?

That seals it, not even Christian Bale can save that one. But I’m no quitter, so I read to the bitter end, when they enjoy the sunset overlooking the Olympic Peninsula (can you say *Twilight*?), one kid playing in the background and another one in the oven. Le sigh.

At least I’ll always have kinky fuckery.