10 Purple Stars for one of the best books I have ever read. The Unrequited by Saffron A. Kent

 

Title: The Unrequited
Author: Saffron A. Kent
Genre: Contemporary/Erotic Romance
Release Date: July 13, 2017


Blurb
Layla Robinson is not crazy. She is suffering from
unrequited love. But it’s time to move on. No more stalking, no more obsessive
calling.
What she needs is a distraction. The blue-eyed guy she keeps
seeing around campus could be a great one—only he is the new poetry
professor—the married poetry professor.
Thomas Abrams is a stereotypical artist—rude, arrogant, and
broody—but his glares and taunts don’t scare Layla. She might be bad at poetry,
but she is good at reading between the lines. Beneath his prickly façade,
Thomas is lonely, and Layla wants to know why. Obsessively.
Sometimes you do get what you want. Sometimes you end up in
the storage room of a bar with your professor and you kiss him. Sometimes he
kisses you back like the world is ending and he will never get to kiss you
again. He kisses you until you forget the years of unrequited love; you forget
all the rules, and you dare to reach for something that is not yours.
NOTE: Please be aware that this book deals with sensitive
topics like cheating and death. 18+ Only.

 

 Wenn ‘s Review
10 Purple Stars

This book does not fit into a simple category. Or it would be “Fucking phenomenally mind blowing” category.

Saffron A Kent delivered a masterpiece.
I can’t find another word to describe it.
I have finished it almost 2 weeks ago and it’s still so fresh and raw in my mind. I am in a blissful state of euphoria. What a journey Thomas and Layla had to take to finally find peace! What a fucking journey!!!!

This whole book is poetry.
The prose is flawless. The characters quite the contrary.
The honest portrait of characters not so perfect, dare I say, quite disturbed, is a beauty. Lovers of words, and life, real life, ugly reality will fall for Layla, a woman driven by her heart. I can’t express how wonderful Layla is. She is one of the most driven woman I’ve ever read. And do not take that lightly, she knows no bounds, does every thing in excess, will make you SO uncomfortable at times but is also the most selfless woman ever. #Laylaismynewbestfriend

Thomas, on the other hand, is defenseless when it comes to Layla, he can’t deny her as much as he tries to. He is battling his demons, slowly setting them free, with words and sex and he’s abusing Layla in doing so. I should add that Layla is willingly accepting everything Thomas gives her.

Both Layla and Thomas will try to fight what they are together but sometimes it is just impossible.
On another note, Thomas is one dirty dirty man… #IwanttododirtypoetrywithThomas

Their relationship is wrong, beautiful, true, it’s everything. I can’t even type this without having fucking butterflies. I’ve been slayed by this book.

This review is not complete, I am just overwhelmed by the feelings the book gave me.

 

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Excerpt
I’m hit by a storm of desire to kiss him better. It’s a tornado, an avalanche in my body,
and in one breathless moment, I decide to go for it. It’s okay. I can take the blame for it later.
I break the rules and reach up and kiss him. A feathery peck on his plump lips, it’s a kiss
of solidarity, a kiss that intends to tell him I understand—but one isn’t enough. It only manages to ratchet up my lust. So I give him another, this time on the corner of his mouth, and then another one on his jaw.
It’s not enough, these small, barely-there touches. I want more, but I won’t take it. I’ll be good; I’ll only give.
Abruptly, he fists my curls and stops me. I look at him fearfully, ready to apologize—not for the kiss, but for being the kisser. His gaze reflects passion, stark, raving need, and I shiver, despite wearing layers and sweating with his heat.
“Are you trying to kiss me, Layla?” he rasps, flexing his fingers on my makeshift ponytail.
He couldn’t tell? Blush rises to the surface and I know I’m glowing like a neon sign.
Swallowing, I nod. “Yes.”
He inches closer to me, still not touching—as impossible as that is—but infinitely closer. “You want to kiss me, Miss Robinson, you do it right.”
Oh God, does he have to call me that? Now, here? My spine arches on its own and my heavy tits graze the contours of his shuddering chest.
“H-How?” I ask innocently, belying the daring action of my body. His stern, professor-y voice is doing things to me, making me wild, uncontrolled.
For a second, he’s silent, just watching. I’m afraid he’ll back out from whatever this is, whatever insanity we’re about to commit—but then I sense the shift in the liquor-laced air as he opens his mouth and growls, “Like this.”

 

Author Bio
Writer of bad romances. Coffee Addict. White Russian
Drinker. Imaginary Ballet Dancer and poetess. Aspiring Lana Del Ray of the book
world.
I’m a big believer in love (obviously). I believe in happily ever after, the
butterflies and the tingling. But I also believe in edgy, rough and gutsy kind
of love. I believe in pushing the boundaries, darker (sometimes morally
ambiguous) emotions and imperfections.

The kind of love I write about is flawed just like my characters. And I hope by
the end of it, you’ll come to root for them just as much as me. Because love,
no matter where it comes from, is always pure and beautiful.




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