By: R.C. Boldt
Releasing January 10, 2017
Self-Published
Clam Jam
Definition: the female equivalent of a cock block.
Example: You’re chatting with a guy you’re interested in and your friend comes along and lays claim to him.
Maggie
That’s my life—except it’s worse. My friend who keeps “jamming” me is my gay roommate and if that isn’t a W.T.F. moment, I’m not sure what is.
Fact: He went home with three—yes, three—of the guys I had been so sure were into me.
Fact: He’s really pissing me off. I mean, hello? I’m trying to get back in the saddle, but I’ll never manage to get a boyfriend before the age of fifty if he keeps this up.Fact: Secretly, I wonder what it would be like if he weren’t gay. Why do all the hot, sweet, tender-hearted guys have to be gay?
Fact: My gay-dar needs a serious tune-up.
Ry
The day I interviewed for the room to rent, everything changed. I knew I had met “the girl”, except there was one small problem: she didn’t want anything to do with men. I recognized a ntop-notch force field when I saw one. She’d been burned badly and didn’t want to deal with a heterosexual guy as a roommate. I could’ve turned around and found another place to live, but I wanted to live there—with her.
So I had to go “undercover”.
Fact: I’m in love with my roommate.
Fact: I’m a likely candidate for carpal tunnel surgery since all the action I’ve had for the past year has been my hand.
Fact: She’s going to hate me if I come clean now.
Fact: I’m not giving up. Which means, I’ll just have to continue to run defense until I figure out a way to get Maggie to see the “real” me.
The me that loves her.
The me that would never do her wrong.
Until then, I’ll keep running off every guy who shows any interest.
Until then, I’ll continue to Clam Jam.
Author Info
RC Boldt is the wife of Mr. Boldt, a retired Navy Chief, mother of Little Miss Boldt, and former teacher of many students. She currently lives on the southeastern coast of North Carolina, enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you're in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can't recall the lyrics to a particular 80's song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she's your girl.
Review:
This is my first time reading a book by RC Boldt and it most certainly isn't going to be my last. I kid you not, I was hooked from the very first page. There are those books that you just know you're going to love and connect with from the very beginning - and Clam Jam was it for me. Maggie is the heroine that you can't help but fall in love a little bit with. It's no wonder our hero, Ryland, couldn't help himself either.
Romcoms are so needed in our romance community because they help alleviate the erotica and dark books we love to read so much. Not saying that this book isn't intense or anything like that, it's just a completely different book but at the same time, it's not. It's predictable but not in a way that makes you want to roll your eyes. It helps that the characters are ALL endearing. Even the best friends of the H/h, Jack and Sarah.
As you know, the story is about a girl down on her luck looking for a roommate, preferably one whose a boy and gay. She can't exactly put that on the add though. In walks Ryland James looking for a place to stay when he suddenly lets Maggie know that he's gay. Easy peasy. Now Maggie won't have to worry about any kind of attraction, at least not on his part since he has a boyfriend.
A boyfriend who also happens to be his best friend. This whole rouse goes on for a long time. And it didn't sit well with me for many reasons. One question burned me throughout: HOW IN THE HELL DO YOU NOT KNOW THAT YOUR ROOMMATE WHOM YOU HAVE AN ATTRACTION TO IS GAY? I get it, sometimes you really can't tell. But. Doesn't Ry have social media? In the story Jack, the supposed boyfriend, talks about how Maggie looked hot in a picture on Facebook.
Which brings me to wonder, if you guys were friends for that long, how could you not tell? Just by Ry's words alone, you believe him? Again, it would be okay. BUT. The two give into their attraction and it still doesn't clue you in that he might not be gay? She thinks he could be Bi at this point but why not full on ask what the hell is going on.
There are probably many valid answers as to why Maggie was so naive when it came to Ry's sexuality. Oh well, still love her!
Whatever. It totally looks like I'm ranting but I loved the shit out of Clam Jam. So much so, that it's my favorite book of the year. Well one of my favorites. And I'm very glad I chose it to be the last one I read this year. I want more from the author and will continue to read anything and everything she writes. If you're looking for something light hearted and fun, please pick this up! You won't be disappointed. It's sexy, romantic, and will have you laughing out loud from our very witty protagonists.
*Thank you to the publisher for providing a copy for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions are my own.
EXCERPT:
Inhaling deeply, I continue, “But I have to be honest with you. I’ve recently broken up with my dirtbag fiancé”—I break off with what I hope is a lighthearted laugh, but I swear it comes out sounding strained and a touch maniacal—“and I’m not interested in having a roommate who’s a guy and—”
“I’m gay.”
I jerk, startled by his interrupting admission. And if I didn’t know better, I’d swear I detected a little hint of surprise in his eyes.
My eyebrows arch. “Really?” Shoot. That’s rude because even I hear the tinge of disbelieving doubt in my voice.
“Yes.” He nods, clasping his hands together and leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table. “Jack and I have been together for years now.” One of his hands reaches up to tug on his earlobe. “We still have a bit of an”—he pauses, lips pressing thin as though he’s trying to word it correctly—“open relationship, and I feel it’s best … to have a separate place and not be continuously underfoot.”
Huhhhhh. I’m still processing this information when he continues.
“So”—he flashes a smile that makes my insides all gooey—“you wouldn’t have anything to worry about with me.”
“Okay,” I say slowly, “but what about guests and sleepovers? Because I’m not a huge fan of having to listen to moaning and—”
“Not a problem.” He waves a hand dismissively. “I can totally stay at Jack’s place. He doesn’t have a roommate. It’s no big deal.” He flashes me another smile, and I feel my ovaries weep his name.
It’s a good thing he’s gay. Otherwise, let’s be real. I’d likely end up being that roommate who accidentally-on-purpose“sleepwalks” into his bedroom—naked—and has sex with him.
Holy crap. Did I really just think that? Bad, Maggie. Baaaad, Maggie.
Glancing over his paperwork, I say, “If you don’t mind, I have a few other applicants to interview.” Lies. I’m totally stalling. Raising my eyes, I find him watching me expectantly; that gaze centered on me in such a way that I feel like I’m the only person who exists right now. “But, tentatively, I’d like to offer you the room for rent.”
If I thought Ryland’s smile was ovary-lurch inducing before, this one trumps that. Big time. It’s blindingly bright and infectious, and I can’t help but return it. We sit there for a moment before he clears his throat, and I remember what else I have to tell him.
