
Curve Book #1: Curvy Girl Summer [Aaliyah & Ahmad]
Synopsis
Thirty‑year‑old influencer Nina Ford keeps a carefully curated roster of men who each meet a different need: the Smart One, the Funny One, the Romantic One, and the Fun One. With summer looming and her starting four set, Nina’s ready for game time—until all her eggs unexpectedly land in one tantalizing basket. Professionally she’s soaring, but personally she’s in brand‑new territory. Is the risk worth the reward, or should she keep playing the field? One way or another, she’ll find out.
Character Summary
- Nina: Confident, hilarious, and sometimes her own worst enemy.
- Russell Long: “The Fun One,” serving globe‑trotting dates and big‑dream energy.
- Taisha, Jacqueline, Matias & Jonah: Fellow influencer/models at RL Fashions whose comedy relief rarely sticks the landing.
My Thoughts
I wanted to love this more—truly. Nina was a highlight in Curvy Girl Summer: the funny, no-nonsense friend who cut through Aaliyah’s emotional spirals with wit and clarity. But as the lead? She frustrated me. She’s confident in every area of her life except romance, and that disconnect wasn’t written in a way that felt believable—it just made her feel inconsistent. One minute she’s giving boss-level pep talks to her friends, and the next she doesn’t know how to have a professional conversation? Girl, come on.
And speaking of inconsistencies—her relationship with her mother really bothered me. It is written and comes across as if the two have a very solid and close relationship, but her mom throws casual shade under the guise of being “direct” and diminishes her daughter’s success. Calling her “not a real model”? That’s not tough love—that’s subtle cruelty. And unfortunately, it’s all too familiar. Many of us have mothers who undermine our confidence while pretending it’s for our own good. That storyline could’ve been powerful if explored more intentionally, but it’s brushed off as normal.
“I am a model,” I replied, rolling my eyes. She sighed. “No, Nina… a real model. Not an internet model.”
Then there’s the fatphobia. Once again, Danielle Allen goes overboard with absurd and unrealistic examples of fat-shaming. It doesn’t feel like critique—it feels like spectacle. I’m not sure who these scenes are meant to resonate with, because I’ve never experienced this level of overt hostility in real life, and it made me question whether Allen is projecting, exaggerating, or just writing from outside the lived experience.
Russ had potential, but the conflict between him and Nina felt lazy. So much miscommunication, so many assumptions, and all of it wrapped in a conflict you could see coming a mile away. The “no-fraternization policy” was so overemphasized that it lost all impact. If it had been casually mentioned once, it might’ve packed a punch later. But instead, it was basically screaming: this is the twist!
And the sex. Whew. At first, I was relieved the book didn’t open with a raunchy scene (thank you for that). But soon after, we’re back in the deep end with back-to-back steamy scenes that felt like filler. The story started dragging at the halfway point, and I found myself skimming—not just through the sex, but also the endless dialogue that didn’t feel organic. There’s a lot of texting, a lot of talking, but not much actual communication or emotional connection. The “banter” was cringey at best and awkward at worst.
Also… Nina’s a serial dater who keeps her personal and business lives separate, but she doesn’t do a single Google search on the men she’s dating? That just doesn’t make sense in 2025. Women are out here cross-referencing LinkedIn, Instagram, Zillow, and court records before a first date—and you want me to believe she doesn’t even do a basic check?
Final Verdict
I wanted more. More depth, more emotional intelligence, more believable conflict, more organic dialogue, and way less fat-shaming and sex.









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