September 10, 2016 by Evelyn Summers
He never called the helplines. The one time he did, it was to say goodbye … to anybody, before leaving the world. Rosie … that was her name. She’d given it when she wasn’t supposed to. She said things that made him burn to live.
And he would. He’d find a way to hide his darkness so that he could dance with her, just a single dance, in the liquid sunshine of her laugh.
And maybe … maybe he’d taste her. But only once.
“I love the agony of having you right in arms reach and the crucifixion of denying myself.”
There’s a slight story behind me acquiring this novel. I opened my e-mail one morning and had an Amazon gift waiting for me from the authors, though I have absolutely no clue why. I didn’t sign up for anything, and if I’m honest, neither author was on my radar either. I have to say though, this random event is probably one of those in life that I will be most glad of. This is one of the best books I have ever read.
Not only were the characters some of the most complex I’ve had the opportunity to come across, but this entire plotline was something utterly original, and because of that, a rarity. Much of this was a psychological mindfuck. It was entirely about inner conflicts and hidden pasts, with a highly believable love story at the centre.
He blew hard against the dandelion and they both quietened for a moment as they watched the fairy like seeds float into the air. A sense of wonder – a life in them as they spread themselves our and carried their wishes to faraway places. Maybe one day Rosie would find her wishes, but Josh was sure that he had found his.
I was pleasantly surprised with how well these two male authors wrote Rosie, with all her jealous insecurities and overthinking, characteristics all to familiar for the average woman, but never going too far as to stop her feeling like a real character. Similarly, the hero was one of the most intriguing I have ever had the pleasure of coming across, pain and angst included.
Never have I been happier to read the words “to be continued” when turning to the final page. The pacing was perfect – not too long, but not so short as to lost vital detail, with a slow build-up until the gut-wrenching climax, and enough left to fill a sequel.