“I hate that I love you,” she said. “You left me.”
“I lost you, there’s a difference. Now that I found you, I intend to keep you.”
Lost.
I’d tasted the sweetest fruit of temptation, and I wanted another bite. I had promised myself before, but once wasn’t enough. The savory flavor of her lingered long after I’d lost her. Contending with the pressure to return to the fight, in order to prove myself to my father and the world, I had to let her go.
Found.
It has been a year. Sofie Vincentia and I had played a dangerous game. For one night, we pretended, only to discover our farce was real. I’d lost her, but I hadn’t stopped searching, hoping for her return. I was used to getting what I wanted, so when she didn’t come to me, I had to go after her. This would be the greatest fight of my life.
I received a copy of the book from the author for an honest review.
Oh boy. Cain and Sofie. Kusch and Atom. Abel and Elma. Seeing people from LB’s first series in the book and loving that cross over!! So many crazy storylines. Your mind is always busy and thinking and wondering and saying “WHA!!!”
Cain met and married on a drunken night, Sofie who is the woman of his dreams. But because we all know how Atom, Cain’s awful father is, he has to hide this marriage from everyone…including his wife! When Cain sees Sofie again, He has to have her and this time keep her FOREVER!!
The whole story is them trying to figure it out. They both love each other But there is soooo much standing in the way. Her jealous and insecurity of other woman. Him fearing losing her when his father finds out. His father pitting him and his brother against one another. DRAMA people…Straight up DRAMA!!
The story kept my mind RACING!! I mean I was like WHAT and then OH SNAP followed by NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. The secrets that are revealed at the end of the book will defo change the family and their dynamic. I was super excited to see who strolled in at the end and hope that there is another book coming. I don’t think that Cain and Abel’s story is finished just yet!!
I’d like to say I was always a writer. I’d also like to say that I wrote every day of my life since a child. That I took the teaching advice I give my former students because writing every day improves your writing. I’d like to say I have my ten-thousand hours that makes me a proficient writer. But I can’t say any of those things. I did dream of writing the “Great American Novel” until one day a friend said: Why does it have to be great? Why can’t it just be good and tell a story?
As a teenager, I wrote your typical love-angst poetry that did occasionally win me an award and honor me with addressing my senior high school class at our Baccalaureate Mass. I didn’t keep a journal because I was too afraid my mom would find it in the mattress where I kept my copy of Judy Blume’s Forever that I wasn’t allowed to read as a twelve year old.
I can say that books have been my life. I’m a reader. I loved to read the day I discovered “The Three Bears” as a first grader, and ever since then, the written word has been my friend. Books were an escape for me. An adventure to the unknown. A love affair I’d never know. I could be lost for hours in a book.
So why writing now? I had a story to tell. It haunted me from the moment I decided if I just wrote it down it would go away. But it didn’t. Three years after writing the first draft, a sign (yes, I believe in them) told me to fix up that draft and work the process to have it published. That’s what I did. But one story let to another, and another, and another. Then a new idea came into my head and a new storyline was created.
I was accused (that’s the correct word) of having an overactive imagination as a child, as if that was a bad thing. I’ve also been accused of having the personality of a Jack Russell terrier, full of energy, unable to relax, and always one step ahead. What can I say other than I have stories to tell and I think you’ll like them. If you don’t, that’s okay. We all have our book boyfriends. We all have our favorites. Whatever you do, though, take time for yourself and read a book.
L.B. Dunbar