5 awestruck Stars
“He wore a suit like a woman wore lingerie, to accentuate the sexual. To highlight the slopes and lines. To give masculinity and definition. He held his wine glass to me, tearing my clothes off and running his hands over my skin from across the room.”
Holy, holy. This book just took me for a ride I didn’t even know I wanted. Or needed. Or could have ever in a million years predicted. This book snuck up behind me, wrapped itself around my entire nervous system and set up home in my skin.
C.D. Reiss’s writing is gorgeous. Vibrant and guttural and at the same time lithe and seductive. She has a way of wielding words that makes you read a sentence at least twice. Not because it’s complex or hard to understand but because it’s so beautifully crafted that you just have to experience it more than once.
“She sang in the tempo of keys clacking and printers humming. There was an open place inside me, past where the professionalism cracked and the weariness fissured and the sadness throbbed. She caressed that place and then jabbed it.”
The characters in this book are larger than life. Every single one of them. There are no supporting players, there is no one hanging out in the shadows. They are in your face from the very first page as if I’d paid them stay there.
They’re dirty and grungy and I loved being given permission to sink my teeth into every single one of them.
It took me a while to like Theresa. She started off cold and confused and linear, but by book’s end I was cheering for her in a way that I seldom find myself doing. Throughout the course of the book she was baptized by sex and lightening and violence and came through the other side fully crystalized as someone fully alive, cheeks flushed from the journey.
Spin. Antonio Spinelli. That man. I still don’t know quite what to think of him. But I know if I met him in a dark alley, I’d beg him to take me against the wall with no mercy and then be grateful for the opportunity. Intense and tightly coiled, he wears brutality like armor, wrapping himself in a fully formed promise of the fight to come. Moments of tenderness and chivalry serve to polish that armor to a blinding shine making him a man to experience, not get to know.
“’Every day,’ he whispered, ‘I’ll take you like this. In the morning, before coffee, I fuck you. At night I fuck you harder. In our bedroom, our living room, our kitchen, I’ll love you in every room. Amore mio, I’ll break you with my love and put you back together. And when I retire, you still call me Capo because you’re mine. Always mine.’”
Brilliantly crafted, instantly addicting, thigh-clenchingly sexy, this book will stay with me for a long, long time. Do yourself a favor and pick it up.
*This review was originally posted for Wicked Women Book Blog.*