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480 pages, Paperback
First published June 9, 2015

“I fell for the two loves of my life when I was nineteen. Yes, two. Plural. More than one. Immoral? Maybe. I say undeniable.”Amber to Ashes is an angsty love triangle that’s emotional, a little on the dark side and beautifully written. Though there were times the writing felt a bit much, and times in the first half that seemed a bit slow, it really picked up in the last half and I ended up enjoying it more than I thought I would. I fell in love with Gail’s writing when I read Collide. This is very different than her Collide/Pulse series. One thing is for certain though- she can write fantastic heroes. At first, I didn’t think she could top her popular and wonderful Gavin Blake, but I think I liked Ryder Ashcroft just as much as Mr. Blake.



“What’s happening between us is sexual tension at its finest. It’s good – healthier than a cold glass of milk. Just go with it.”
“You’re gonna be mine, do you hear me? No matter what I have to do, I want you to be my girl.” He kisses my noise, cheeks, and forehead. “I won’t take no for answer, and whether or not you want me to, I’m gonna find your pieces so I can put you back together.”
“If you wind up falling in love with me.” A grin softens his face as he dusts his lips against mine. “Let me correct that. When you fall in love with me.”
“’When’?” My question comes out breathlessly, my eyes nearly fluttering closed as he continues, brushing his lips along my jaw.
“Yeah, when,” he murmurs, curling his fingers into my hair. “Because even though you think you won’t, you will. I’ll make it impossible for you not to, but I have a feeling you’re gonna do the same fucking thing to me. So we’ll be even. Good?”
Here I am, my heart bleeding out for two different men, the organ split down the middle between who it truly belongs to and who it truly loves and needs in order to produce another beat.
Regret: the universe’s way of keeping each of us a slave to its brutality. Holding our hand in its poisonous grip, regret’s toxicity is the last visitor remaining by our side as we lie on our deathbeds.
This beautiful, selfless, caring man’s exposing his opened wounds to me, setting his vulnerabilities on the operating table of my heart for me to repair.
My heart trips, skids, and crashes into a brick wall spray-painted with his and Brock’s anguish, my mental state bruised from the collision.
…his teeth being perfectly white, their ghostly shimmer as straight as a stick figure’s dick…


this didn't work for me at all."…his teeth being perfectly white, their ghostly shimmer as straight as a stick figure’s dick…"

È stato soltanto quando sono stata posata fra le braccia dei miei ultimi genitori affidatari, Cathy e Mark, che ho provato cosa significa sentirsi amati e desiderati. Sentirsi… umani.
Ma la loro rete di sicurezza è arrivata troppo tardi, e non è stata in grado di salvarmi dalle mie vecchie abitudini. Continuo a disconnettermi, autodistruggendomi con un uomo dopo l’altro, usando il sesso come disintossicazione cerebrale. Il sesso mi fa e mi farà sempre ritrovare il controllo, è un rifugio nascosto che mi tiene in salute, lontana dal cancro che ammorberà per tutta la vita i margini oscuri e sfilacciati dei miei pensieri. Dall’età di quattordici anni ho abusato, amato, bramato e odiato il sesso in modi che la maggior parte della gente non può nemmeno immaginare. Sconvolgerei le loro menti. L’ho regalato senza un minimo di sentimento alla persona che avevo di fronte e spesso l’ho accettato da chi sapevo non riusciva a sopportarmi.