I’ve once received a message on my blog page from an author I must admit I had never heard of. This message was kind and sweet, just like you are.
I read the blurb and thought, “Damn, this book sounds amazing.” And I was right, this book was amazing. It quickly became one of my favorite books of 2015. And since then, I want every one to read and experience what I feel when I read your books. We are now approaching the end of 2016, and I’ve read and loved all your books. But this one…. This one was amazing. The Reason For Me was so powerful it hurt. It shattered my heart in millions tiny pieces. Holt and Annalyse, chapter by chapter, tried to fix it, soothe it. But that was short lived, the next chapter unstitched the fragile threads that hold it together, to then start to heal it slowly… and crack it right back open.
It was heartbreaking, exhausting and so worthy. SO WORTHY.
I am so in love with this hilarious couple, these characters that are so real, they are flawed, they are sometimes a bit slow ( nudge,nudge HOLT), but they are so fucking strong, it is fantastic. I cannot explain how I felt while reading it. You just start it and then, when you finally take that liberating inspiration, you realize you’ve finished it. Your face hurts because you’ve laughed too much and that smile won’t go away, but those tears… are they happy or sad tears? Fuck if I know… I know you promised a happy ever after. And you hold your promise, but why did they have to go through all this pain??? I think I know. They had to, to be able to know what they deserve, have it and CHOOSE TO BE HAPPY.
“You should have on a life jacket.”
“When I kayak or when I ride my motorcycle?” I ask.
He tries not to smile, but he does. “Pissed, huh?”
“Observant, aren’t you?”
“Motorcyclists are twenty-five percent more likely to die and five times more likely to be injured than a passenger in a car,” he says.
“You looked that up just to lecture me, didn’t you?”
“Not the point,” he says. “No more motorcycle.”
Did he really think he could go all alpha male on me? Usually, it would be hot as all-get-out to see a man in control, dominant, but right now alpha equals asshole! Note to self — I should do a blog post on that. Where have all the good alphas gone? “Who do you think you are?” I say, walking away. “You’re not my husband or my father. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t let my father or husband order me around like this.”
His fingers lightly touch my elbow. It isn’t a grab. I barely feel it, and as quickly as he touched me, it’s over. “I’m a doctor. I’ve seen what . . .”
“You’re a gynecologist! You’ve seen what a motorcycle can do to a vagina?”
Oh God, I’m in trouble. He’s got the dirtiest look in his eye. “I’d imagine the vibration would feel pretty damn good.”
I can’t help it and bust out laughing. “You are impossible.”
“And it’s the law to carry a life vest for every person in a kayak,” he says.
“I like order.”
“Ordering people around,” I say.
“Only certain people,” he says.
Don’t ask me why, but the thought of him “ordering” me around made my legs clench together, or maybe it was the mention of vibrations. Either way, the idea of him taking control of my body didn’t sound bad to me at all. It would be nice to not think so damn much all the time and just feel something good for a change.