**************SPOILERS AHEAD********************
Maybe after this review the Pm's will explode the inboxes ( yes, people!) And the authors may never let me read their work.
Mark Carmichael is a sadistic bastard who likes to torture women. His wife Carly, he beats & rapes , in a hope to put a package in her uterus. When he fails , he gets a "concubine" ( yes people !) Carrie
And tortures her and manages to impregnate her with his toxic seed.
I’m reminded that I hate her and just want to cover her in bodily functions, chain her up and keep her out of sight so I don’t have to suffer her petulant whining and sulks.But it's revolting trying to screw a woman who looks like he swallowed a pumpkin. I should start calling her cinderella
So you see - he's a Sadistic , shit-fetish , Golden showers loving monster . ( yes, people !)
Carly is alone after divorcing from Mark the Monster, but hiding in her basement is David Hearse. A reluctant house breaker who's on the run from the Government. Why ??? .....wait for it !
He gets attached to her misery and loneliness and one day impersonates as a handyman to walk in her life through the front door
Now , herein is the "tumultuous first-look love "
She opens the door .
Nodding, just once in confirmation, he inches closer, excavating the heat from my womb to bury it under his ribs, reaching inside me with his stare, reading my veins, remapping them into crazy string, stifling my pulse. It stalls, stutters, then booms so hard in my chest I release the door to hold my hand to the palpitation; lightheaded. I can’t seem to blink when his eyes are focused on mine, as if to do so would rob me of life, of him. I have to say something , he’s waiting for me to speak, dropping his dewy cocoa gaze to my lips with such potency they feel the pressure, plumping with blood, surging the vein up my neck. Some men look, some men stare, but sometimes when you meet a gaze and yours intersects theirs – something hallowed happens. Your spirit leaps out of you, mashing and smashing and fucking their essence in the gap between you, and they sense it, their eyes hold a knowing , a wicked secret, a naughtiness which coaxes the rebel out of your heart but shames you with their knowledge of your intimate guilt. He has that quality to his gaze, as if he’s read the book of my life in the akashic records and knows I was born to serve him, to suck him, to tease the ache from every muscle … every muscle , until it’s flaccid again, relaxed and spent, until there’s not a single cell left in his glorious body to create one particle of precum. My gaze caught in his, our esprit molesting each other in the charged arc of ether between us … no words needed, speech is superfluous when lips quiver for connection, when arms ache to touch , when my whole world craves to step in and lay my head on his chest so his heart beating can remind mine what it’s supposed to do. My thighs are so weak with desire that I’m tempted to slump, to bow down before him and call him my lord and master, and yes, I will follow you all the days of my life – to brimstone if need be, I don’t care. I don’t! In this nanosecond of astral caressing I’d desecrate everything I’ve ever worked for to be free of those chains, to be yours. The puissant stare reclaims mine, an eyebrow marginally questioning, and I can’t avoid it any longer, I have to … get him in here and lock him in! Sagging against the doorframe, gripping to it to remain vertical, I smile , hoping it communicates the encyclopedia of ache rampaging through me, praying it transmits the million wishes and carnal urges he’s summoned from my core.He scatters me. I’m falling apart, remade only when he licks his lips, sucking me back into myself, leaning closer, my grip on the door paralyzing, coherence nullified, completely useless, my brain futile, nothing works but the wildfire searing viscosity to where I crave him, throbbing and wanton and yearning for penetration.he’s so beautiful he has my fallopian tubes wrapped around his finger when I want them looped around his tongue,
He asks -" What need 's fixing? "
“What needs fixing?” he asks, his breath baptizing my cheeks, and I inhale him like an addict in a cocaine windstorm, weakened and euphoric. What needs fixing? You can start with me, right here, right now. Just bend me over the kitchen counter and fuck me so hard my pelvis fractures against the pressure of the marble. Staring up at the stranger arriving on my doorstep as if he knew I was in need of assistance, answering my call because only his subconscious can hear mine, we’re the only two on this frequency, and it’s destiny or fate or a celestial contract we made in the lifetimes we’ve met before, over and over into infinity and eternity because we’re stuck in the same soul orbit, I spin around him and he spins around me, twin suns burning out together, our dance locked and bound by heaven’s decree, suspended in the cosmos, incinerating, eating up every element to burn for another day – for each other, and I’m so dizzy the only thing I need is surrender. Let me surrender, to you. Let me wear your bruises, fill me with your kisses, break my mind with your whispers, hurt my throat with your cum, just, please, catch me because I’m falling into the vortex of your voice, plummeting into the sphere of your gravity, spilling my soul because I can’t contain it with you right here, it aches for you, it’s leaving me so it can stroke yours. If it was night there’d be a meteor shower marking this auspicious moment, shooting stars blazing heat across the ice cold landscape of space the way your energy sears fire through the cold crypt of my chest. I thought I loved Mark, I thought I was in heartbreak, I thought so many things and I was wrong about all of them. This is instant chemistry, a frisson of incandescence sizzling the ozone around us, igniting suppressed needs, reanimating forgotten hopes, resurrecting the ineffable. He’s with me, so close my arm hairs steeple to touch him, and every step is a struggle. My blood has oxidized, my arteries clogged with rust, unable to pump blood and oxygen because I am seized and broken now.
What an explanation, I've never read love at first sight quite like this before . ( yes, people !)
Now my peeve.
Only one- there's a fine line between delicate ornamentation and Glaringly Garishness.
So here's my review --
The Parable has Pulsating amorousness , like haemoglobin sinuous in Full size Aeortic Pump. The Acrimonious Paroxysmal has Your Carotid Pulsating Unremittingly. It will dislodge your Medulla Oblongata into contemplating that it's a Amorous Exposition, but it's a Savage , Acrimonious Expression of Machinations and Espial Voyeurism !!!
Translation---> the story has soul, plot and execution done very well that'll have your blood pumping and heart pounding . The end is the finest ending I could see, because it continued the tone. The characters are well etched, Mark was a larger than life figure , a tiny bit too overwhelming.the story was quite slow in first 50% but sped up in last 35 % to wrap up quickly in last 10%.
The language - I'll hold that thought !
( Yes, People !)