Laurelin Paige has woven a lewd adult romance that’s easily the most disciplined, depraved and delicious story I’ve read in ages.
Is it wrong to feel such glee reading about Celia? THAT Celia Warner?
Slay: Rivalry is the story of Celia, a shrewd wealthy heiress who finds solace in her numbed existence. Instead of intimacy and genuine connection, she tells us, she seeks a sick joy and elation in blackmail and deceit, in destroying the lives and loves of others. She’s been wildly successful, even if she’s met some defeat in the past.
And maybe her game playing life would have continued on without remark, had she not been summoned to meet the devil himself. She’s shaken by her reaction to him, and she instinctively understands he's more than an erotic enticement. Once she meets Edward, a dark prince if ever there was one, Celia’s transformation story beings. But what in the hell will her transformation look like? Celia is like no other.
OMG I could not look away. This book is mean and kinky, desperate and romantic, and every shameful hunger Celia had right or wrong, pulled me deeper and deeper. I was consumed.
To me, this is a dark wicked retelling of Cinderella, with Celia Warner cast as the broken orphan, her Fairy Godmother, and her wicked step sisters all at once. She is her best hope and her worst enemy. The simmering, secretive Edward is the villain, yes, but in this corrupt fairytale, Celia relishes his warped, vicious ways. It's twisted and unputdownable.
Reading Rivarly, it’s easy to be lulled by Celia’s single point of view, as Paige walks us through a spider’s web of set pieces and countermoves, seduction in service of ‘The Game.’ With the trap set, it’s easy to miss the signs that you’ve left Kansas—or the wood-grained safety of New York—and entered Edward’s surreal world. The world where Celia Warner becomes the heroine. Or maybe even the one who needs rescued. It’s hard to tell, this pair is so evenly matched.
About that devil Edward Fassbender—love the name: He is an enigma. Not only for Celia, but for us as well. By all appearances, he’s a classic throwback, a chauvinistic, bossy alpha who prowls the business world for maximum return. He dominates like a bull with no concern for the collateral dominos spilling out around him. He has his tastes though, and he matches Celia temptation by temptation all to avoid unleashing his baser desires.
And here is where we get to the heart of the matter, which is this:
Celia Warner is sooooo human! (Count that among sentences I never thought I’d type.) She’s also led a tragic yet sheltered life. Consequently, she comes over as childlike at times, and operates with an innocence that either delivers or undermines her every scheme. But it’s that real humanness that SLAYS. When we are deep into the book, and Celia realizes she is possibly trying to destroy the one thing that will save her, I wanted to both slap and hug my kindle at once.
The nihilistic opening, where Celia catalogues the void, and details her survival skills, she’s set a trap for us. The stakes were immediately clear: I WANT CELIA TO FEEL! She had more armor than a Trojan Horse, and the games were her safe way of feeling at least something. It’s clear we're to believe that Celia’s numbness is marrow deep, but it’s not. The masochim is something else, a cover for the REAL stakes—nothing less than her dragon heart. Sigh, I loved this book.
Celia’s anodyne descriptions of interiors and her history, her offhand references to her schemes and countermoves, demonstrate just how much distance she puts between herself and the world around her. We get it, not much affects her. Until Edward lays his finger tips on her. And then, I felt an internal hemorrhage building within her.
Celia could thaw, simmer and even boil. She was maybe close to succumbing, and I wanted the story to go on and on. I needed to know everything that devil was thinking! It’s a deliberate ploy by Paige, to keep Edward’s real motives and leanings hidden, and it makes every scene between them juicy and climactic.
This is a brilliant internal story for the most part. Celia talks to herself, she reasons and strategizes and then tells herself stories. On a topsoil level, this may appear repetitive, or overtelling, but that take misses the point. Paige’s narrative flourishes are actually mini-arcs, twisting and twisting, wrenching Celia into a smaller and smaller Universe-of-Edward, that limits her options, raises the stakes and unleashes a torrent of suspense as we reach the climax. Celia is ensnared, and it is exhilarating! By then I was so wrung out myself, I wanted everything for Celia, every last thing. And in many ways, Slay ends where it began, with nothing. And everything.
Celia is an incredible character. Just wow! Thank you Laurelin Paige for spoiling us, so much!
PS I wish I talk about that clever feather on the cover. But at a minimum, it would spoil one of the most debauched set pieces I’ve ever read.