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martes, 25 de agosto de 2015

Sweet treat from Skye Warren

And here I am, book buddies, sharing with you one of my favourite authors because of her hauntingly beautiful prose and tragic yet hopeful stories.




My brother is both powerful and cruel, which means I have a lot of enemies I've never met. He swears he'll keep me safe, but what I want most is to break free. I especially want to break free with Drew, my brother's lawyer.
I've spent my life under glass.

We shouldn't be together, but everything about him draws me. His intensity, his kindness.

And the way he looks in those custom tailored suits.

One night when he's outside my bedroom, I give him a sexy show. And in doing so, unlock pandora’s box. Drew shows me everything I’ve been missing. He touches my body and my heart, but when the truth comes to light, we're both in danger.
The cost of my freedom may be the man I’ve come to love.


And here is what I thought

Skye Warren has accustomed me to traumatized heroines who drown in tragedy but still fight with unfathomable strength to survive, to grab happiness they don't think they deserve. Rose, the ballet dancer, might be sweet, her story milder in some way compared to other tales in the Chicago Underground series, yet it still pulses with melancholy and hurt from past wounds.

The forbidden, denied romance she initiates behind her tough brother Philip's knowledge is as dangerous and bold as any other we've read before. The words become alight with subtle sensuality and hidden desires. The man himself, Drew, is a paradox. Within her grasp but almost beyond it, as tender and respectful as a knight in shining lawyer's suit, yet also wildly passionate, possessive. Those steamy scenes are heartfelt, throbbing, starkly hot.

A really surprising twist in the plot and the beauty was shattered and my heart with it. I can't describe how morbidly poetic and heartbreaking is what happens to this couple as tragedy crosses their path. It hurt to go through all that misery along with Drew and Rose, and relentless Philip. Oh, how I crave his story!

So when the good things started to come back, they felt like rain on a parched land. The way the words feel is so intimate. Heartbreak, trust, need, loneliness, these feelings are so poignantly rendered as Drew and Rose dance around each other, into each other's heart. I loved their story, complex and subtle. These characters are almost broken, but made whole together. In the end, the beautiful ballerina inside the glass globe could finally break out, free and loved.

Favourite Quotes:

My mind was drenched with dirty thoughts while my body remained in stasis.

A perfect gentleman everywhere but his eyes. There he wrote me dirty poetry.

When you're aggressive, I want to obey you. When you're shy, I want to shock you. 


Drew stepped into the spotlight, casting a long shadow over the silver-white side of his car. He opened his door and tossed his briefcase on the passenger seat. But instead of getting in and driving away, he paused. He turned back, looking directly at my window—at me. I froze, my throat going dry.

He must have known it was my room, though he’d never been upstairs. I didn’t think he could see me. At least not clearly. We were twenty feet away, separated by double-paned glass, and the glare from the floodlights would overwhelm the thin light from my lamp. Impulsively, I pressed my palm to the cool glass. Could he make that out, the shape of my hand, the color of my flesh?

I leaned forward, painting my own reflection in the window. Wide, dark eyes set in the pale moon of my face, all framed with thick curtains of black hair. I looked like a ghost, something ephemeral and weightless.

That was how I felt sometimes too—not really there. I wanted to feel something, to see what it was like to participate, even if it was only a glimpse. He was waiting for me, leaning against his car.

Maybe he’d always been waiting for me.

Since that first meeting and the sudden heat that had sparked between us, he had been waiting for me to initiate something so he could be sure I was ready. Waiting and wanting, because he had some idea of my background, if not the specifics. The consideration in that gesture, the sheer expanse of it, took my breath away.

He remained still until the floodlights flicked off, blanketing him in night. My eyes adjusted, and he came back into focus again, somehow clearer in the dark. His arms were crossed as he leaned back against the car. The driver’s side door hung open, an ignored invitation in favor of this.

I could see the glint of his eyes, his intensity unmasked. My imagination could fill in the rest—the short, stubby growth on his jaw after a long day of work, the shadows beneath his eyes.

How could I show him; what did he want? Silly questions. Of course I knew. It was primal, the urge to bare myself, to offer myself, and only my fears kept me in check. It wasn’t the glass of the window or the bricks stacked beneath it. Only my fears kept us apart.

I toyed with the hem of my soft tank top, teasing him with a strip of flesh, blowing cool air across my belly. It wouldn’t be like this with him. His breath was hot, his body a furnace. That much I knew from the study earlier when he’d murmured in my ear. The window pane was emanating cold, holding out the chilly night air but failing just a little.

He must be freezing, but he didn’t look it, not even as a breeze ruffled a lock of hair over his forehead. He looked like he could wait forever, but why should he have to? I wouldn’t be a coward, not tonight.

I had dressed for sleep after my shower, so there was nothing underneath the thin fabric of my tank top. I tugged the shirt off and let it slip from my fingers. 


Skye Warren is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of dark romance. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely tender. For those new to her work, consider the bestseller Wanderlust, Prisoner or the Dark Nights series starting with Trust in Me.

Never say no to this author, book buddies. Dark, painful, 
yet beautifully true and romantic (and hot too)

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