Everyone has
a secret...
Gabe Hyde is on borrowed time. He's been hiding
his identity for over four years-hidden from the world that used to adore
him--obsess over him--driven to the edge of insanity by one poor choice.
But that one choice, altered the course of his
life forever.
Pretending isn't all it's cracked up to be,
especially when pretending means hiding your real self from the people that
care about you the most. But if anyone ever discovered the truth it wouldn't
just be his life at risk--but hers.
Saylor doesn't hate men.
Just Gabe.
Only Gabe.
He's a reckless, happy-go-lucky, silver spoon
fed pain in her ass. Everything about him makes her more and more confused.
Unfortunately they both donate time at the same Group Home. If she wasn't
afraid of flunking, she'd be long gone. She hates that she's attracted to him
almost as much as he hates that he's attracted to her--and she can tell,
especially since their first encounter ended up making her knees so weak she
couldn't form coherent sentences for weeks afterwards. But the closer she gets
to him, the more confused she becomes. He isn't who he says he is, and he's
hiding something big.
What happen when two worlds collide? Two worlds
that never should have met in the first place? Some secrets are too big to be
hidden forever--the only question? Will his destroy everyone he loves? Or
finally bring about the redemption he's been craving for the past four years?
Everyone has a secret...What's yours?
Words cannot express how much I loved
Toxic by Rachel Van Dyken. Story after story she delivers these phenomenal
books that are captivating, emotional, heartwarming, and stay with you long
after you’ve finished them.
YOU MUST READ TOXIC BY RACHEL VAN
DYKEN. IT IS A MUST READ FAVORITE FOR 2014!
This book is Gabe’s story and the
sequel to Ruin. In this story we get to see all the facets of Gabe’s character
and not just the fun, loving, protective male we saw in the first novel. He’s
one of my favorite book boyfriends. He loves so fiercely yet his love is also a
burden. The guilt. The regret. The shame. The grief. The anger. I loved the
struggles he faced in his story. The skeletons in his past and his future’s
uncertainty were such a Catch-22 situation. For him to move forward in his
present, he has to let go of the baggage from his past. As much as I wanted for
him to find happiness, I didn’t want for him to lose a huge part of himself in
the process. I know this all sounds vague, but that’s the beauty of it. I can’t
give any secrets or spoilers away!
I loved his connection with Saylor.
They had a playful, love-hate dynamic that provided constant amusement and
undeniable chemistry. Their characters are so different yet connected through
their passion for music. There’s angst, passion, and a constant push and pull
between this pair. Their relationship is anything but ordinary and boring.
You’ll fall in love with these characters, ache alongside them, and feel torn
when life challenges them. It’s pure perfection!
I can’t give away all the twist and
unexpected heartbreaking moments in Toxic by Rachel Van Dyken, but I will say
this book cannot be missed. It’s downright addictive and I couldn’t put it
down. Immerse yourself in this unique story today.
I first met Gabe in Ruin. I
adored Gabe. I thought he was fun, caring, protective, and an all-around good
guy. He is still all those things and then some. I absolutely love him. He is definitely
one of my book boyfriends. The author gave Gabe so much depth in this book. He
loves fiercely and deeply. But he also carries the weight of the world on his
shoulders. I felt so bad for him at times.
Saylor is a great match for
Gabe. She’s sassy and quick witted most of the time. Gabe has the ability to
render her speechless, not that anyone could blame her. She is also strong. She
seems to know what Gabe needs when he needs it. She is an absolute gem and I
wouldn’t be able to come up with anyone better.
As with all her stories,
Rachel Van Dyken sucked me right in. This is an author who knows how to pull
all the emotions out of you and write beautiful, heartbreaking stories. If you
haven’t read anything by her, I highly suggest that you do. She became one of
my favorite authors when I read Ruin, and with each book I have read of hers, I
have not been disappointed.
Life has two stages.
Birth and death. That’s it. What you do in between the two? Well, that’s up to
you, isn’t it? —Wes M
Saylor
Behind me, Gabe ceased
all motion. The only way I knew he was still there was from the heat that
seeped into my back from where his body touched me. More warmth rolled off his
hands where they seemed fused to mine. Any minute now, I expected him to pull
away, to slip into mask number one or mask number two. Instead, he flipped my
hands over, gripping them with his fingers and exhaled, long and slow. Seconds
went by, but they may as well have been years. Each time he let out a breath,
my heart skipped a beat of longing, needing more of his touch — more of
something. My back tingled as the hard planes of his stomach pressed against
me. I was in a Gabe cocoon.
And I loved it.
Until the music started.
With slight pressure,
Gabe moved my hands to the piano, slowly, effortlessly placing them on each
key.
He was playing through me,
using my body as an instrument to convey the story of his life. Each time he
pressed down on one of my fingertips or guided me to another area of the piano,
I felt the sadness of the song clench deeper. The notes became floating
tendrils of pain, each one of them slowly invading my body and taking hold until
it hurt to breathe.
He moved faster and
faster, my hands couldn’t keep up. I pulled back as he continued the song, in
such a rush it was like he was yelling but doing it with music. Unable to
convey it in any other way.
With a final burst of
movement, he lifted his hands off the piano and smashed them against the keys,
causing a chaos of notes to burst forth.
Gabe’s breathing was
uneven, ragged as he leaned heavily against me, his chin resting on my head,
and he whispered brokenly, “I can’t.”
“You were doing so good.”
“It’s like getting into a
car with suicidal tendencies. You keep going faster and faster, needing the
adrenaline to keep you alive until suddenly you turn the wheel and everything
goes black. The notes, they go higher and higher, and right when I feel like I
can change the outcome — I panic. Some things…” He sighed and pulled away.
“Some things are better left in chaos.”
“Are you sure about that?
Are you sure about perfection?” I folded my hands in my lap, but didn’t turn
around.
“Sure.” He moved from
behind me and sat on the bench. “If life was perfect, how in the hell would we
ever learn to depend on someone other than ourselves? If anything, that’s what
life’s taught me. The need to be perfect is stemmed in the very belief that
it’s actually something we can achieve. Self-actualization — doesn’t exist.”
I licked my lips and
looked down at the keys. “Does that mean we don’t try then?”
“No.” Gabe tickled a few
of the ivory keys in front of him, the music note tattoos on his fingertips
looking darker against the white of the piano. “It just means when you reach
the end of your rope, you shouldn’t regret a damn thing, but applaud yourself
for trying to do the impossible.”
I felt like he was using
double meanings. The philosophical Gabe was a bit terrifying because he made me
feel more insecure than the jackass Gabe. But the guy sitting next to me right
now? I was beginning to understand, he wasn’t just one person. He was every
person, everything, whatever he needed to be, he was.
Like a chameleon.
And suddenly the ending
to the story made sense.
Ten different notes all
clamoring at once.
Chaos.
Gabe was Chaos.
“So.” He sniffed and
cleared his throat. “Now that I’ve totally ruined the moment by talking in my
serious voice and scaring the shit out of you — why don’t we work on one of
your performance pieces?”
“Okay.” I placed my hands
on the piano again, careful to angle my wrists at the perfect degree and keep
my eyes on the music ahead. Sometimes I wondered if my posture was better than
my playing.
“What the hell are you
doing?” he asked in calm voice.
I turned and gave
him a firm nod. “I’m getting
ready.”
“To go to battle?”
“What?” I relaxed my
hands a bit. “No.” I straightened. “This is the right posture, it’s—”
“If you say perfect, I’m
going to kill myself.”
“Someone should have
majored in drama.”
He burst out laughing.
“Oh, honey, you have no idea.”
“So?” I lifted my wrists
again and looked ahead.
“Fine.” He smirked. “Play
just like that.”
“Okay.” I started one of
my harder pieces, Piano Sonata 14. It felt exactly the same. The movement
wasn’t as fast as some of the others, but the timing for it had to be perfect.
“Close your eyes,” Gabe
instructed.
“But—”
He swatted my wrists. “No
arguing with your piano master.”
“Fine.”
“Say ‘yes, master’.”
I smiled tightly, my eyes
focusing on the music in front of me. I started slowly playing. “Not in this
lifetime.”
“Bet I could make you say
it.” His voice had an arrogant lift to it, which made me all the more
irritated. Master? Um, no.
“Eyes.” He growled again.
With a resigned sigh, I
closed my eyes. “Better?”
“Immensely,” he said
smoothly.
Darkness enveloped my
world. All I had were the notes at my fingertips. All I had was the music —
that and Gabe.
He wasn’t saying
anything.
Which killed me.
It also made me want to
open my eyes, but I knew he’d probably just tell me to close them again, so I
kept playing.
And then, with a teasing
touch, his fingers grazed my chin, slowly tilting it down toward the piano
while his other hand went to my upper back then slowly moved down until it was
in the middle, with a gentle push, he urged my body closer to the keys.
Eyes closed, posture
completely off, I leaned over the piano. Everything felt wrong as I continued
playing.
“Slower,” he said softly.
With a sigh, I started
playing slower. His hands moved to my hips. And stayed there. Other than
jumping a foot, I was still able to concentrate.
“The music,” he
whispered, “It’s not just your story — it’s your lover.”
“Okay,” I squeaked. Heat
washed over me as the word lover bounced around in my brain. I
knew it, but I’d never experienced it. How was I supposed to use something I
didn’t know how to use? And how embarrassing was it that I was stuck in that
tiny room having never been… stuck in a tiny room with any guy? Lover. I’d take
him. If I got a choice. It would be him. But people like Gabe, beautiful people
who had music in their soul, who knew how to speak without words… they weren’t
for girls like me.
“Each stroke…” His hands
pressed against my hips making me gasp. “You need to feel it not just on your
fingertips — but everywhere.”
Holy. Crap.
“Feel it here,” he
squeezed and then ran his hands lightly up my sides, then resting right underneath
my breasts, he pressed again. “And here.”
My breathing picked up
speed, as did my music.
“Slow down,” he commanded
in that same irritating patient tone. “Where is this story taking me? Where are
you taking your lover?”
“Huh?” I breathed.
“Use your hands to tell
me the story — use your body to propel the story forward, what happens next…
Tell the story, Saylor. Make me feel it without even touching you.”
“But — that’s
impossible.”
“You can feel a kiss
without touching someone’s lips.”
“I’m confused.”
“Concentrate.” Gabe’s
voice was firm. “I want to kiss you.”
“What?” He was lucky I
didn’t actually collapse against the piano this time.
“In the story.” He
chuckled. “I want to kiss you in this story, so kiss me.”
“You want me to get up
and kiss you?” Mind you, I was still trying to play a difficult piece as he was
asking me this, which basically meant I must have had talent, because my body
was on fire.
“Without our mouths
meeting.”
“Through the music.” I
clarified in a doubtful voice.
I could hear the smile in
his tone as he answered. “Yes, through the music, show me what the kiss would
feel like. I want to taste it.”
“But how?”
He laughed softly. “I’m
touching them.”
“What?”
“My lips,” he countered.
“They’re soft, open, wet…”
I squirmed on the piano
bench, squeezing my eyes shut. “What else?”
“As I part my lips… I
wonder what your tongue tastes like, what type of pressure you’d use as you
pressed your velvety smooth mouth against mine. I imagine exploring your mouth
not just because I want to — but because I can’t help it. I’m lost. And your
kiss is my salvation… so, Saylor, will you save me?”
My fingers glided
effortlessly over the piano as I imagined his mouth — the way he smiled, the
way he took his lower lip hostage when he was deep in thought. The dark look he
got in his eyes when there was something he wanted. Our kiss would be epic.
The music picked up speed
as I leaned over the piano, pounding each note with the rhythm of my footsteps
as I approached him.
His hands would reach for
my hips as he pulled me closer. My hands hovered over the keys making my
hesitation known.
And then I pressed softly
against the ivory, leaning forward as if I was leaning into Gabe with my body
pressed against his. My breasts brushed the keys. I moved closer to the piano
and then slowed the music.
His eyes would close.
His lips would part.
And we’d meet in the
middle — because both of us wanted the same thing. Both of us wanted to taste,
to explore, to feel.
I slowed my left hand as
my right hand moved quicker across the keys, to show the anticipation.
And then, our mouths
would touch.
I pounded the keys with
my left hand, making it the loudest part of the piece which wasn’t normally how
it was done.
Our tongues would tangle.
I pounded the piano
harder.
His fingers would dig into
my arms as he lifted me into the air.
I pulled back from the
piano, stopping the music, and then gently started the rhythmic cadence again.
Our kiss was the perfect
joining of music.
He was the left hand, I
was the right.
Separate they sounded
like silly scales.
Together — they were
beautiful.
When I stopped the piece,
I was sweating.
“Open your eyes,” Gabe
whispered.
He was breathing so
heavily it looked like he’d just run a marathon. With a smile he tucked my
fallen hair behind my ear and tilted my chin toward him.
“That…” He leaned in.
“…is how you perform. Like every kiss is both your first and last — like you’re
saying both hello and goodbye — like you’ve just been born… like you’ve just
died.”
Rachel Van
Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling
author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can
find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching
The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir
Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers!
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