Wednesday, November 5, 2014

53 Letters for My Lover by Leylah Attar


This is not your typical love story.
It’s not so black and white. Lines are crossed.
Walls are smashed. Good becomes bad.
Bad becomes very, very good.

Shayda Hijazi—the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect daughter. For thirty-three years, she has played by the rules, swallowing secrets, burying dreams and doing whatever it takes to anchor her family. Shayda Hijazi is about to come face to face with the one thing that can rip it all apart, the one thing her heart has always been denied: Love.

Troy Heathgate—untamed, exhilarating, dangerous—a man who does exactly as he pleases. Life bends to his will. Until he comes across the one thing he would give it all up for, but can never have.

Born on the same day in opposite corners of the world, their lives collide. And nothing is ever the same again. 

Spanning three decades, 53 Letters for My Lover is a fiercely sensual, emotional ride to the heart of an epic, forbidden love that defies it all—an intimate exploration of love, loyalty, passion, betrayal, and the human journey for hope, happiness and redemption.

This not your typical Love Story.  It said that in the synopsis and I thought- yea right.  They ALWAYS say that.  Well folks, I can tell you in the case of this book they are 100% right.  It is not your typical boy meets girl, they fall in love, have sex, then have a problem at 75% done with the book, and then get back together.  Nope not at all.

I will say that when I first started to read this book I was so confused.  I felt like there was a book 1 that I missed and to tell you the truth, I almost put the book down as a DNF.  I am so glad that I treaded on though because after the first few chapters I was hooked.  I am forever a Troy Heathgate girl.  Yes ladies, he is dreamy with a capital D.  Sure, he has his moments, but what guy doesn't.  His love for Shayda is evident thoughout the entire books.  This is a man that was willing to put all other women aside because he was in love with a MARRIED woman. He knew that at some point their love would conquer all and that she would be his.  
While Troy may have felt that way, Shayda is not 100% on board with this plan.  She married young and her and her husband have some major issues that cause problems in more then one way in their lives.  To say that they have had sex 2 times in their marriage to create both of their children is not in anyway a logical assumption.  You can tell that she loves her husband, but at the same time has some major feelings for Troy.  

It is so great to see how this relationship evolves over the years.  It takes place over 3 decades.  It is not to say that they are in constant contact over that time, but you know the saying- Love Stands the Test of Time, that is true for these 2.

If you are looking for that book that has you holding your breath and at the end you sigh, this is the book you are waiting for!!

The doorbell rings. Repeatedly. Followed by loud thumping on the door.
“Coming, coming! Now what did you what forget?” I swing the door open.
My heart screeches to a slamming halt. “Troy.” I turn pale. “ shouldn’t be here.”
“No?” He storms past me into the house. “Where should I be, Shayda? Waiting by the phone? Staking out your office? Checking my email? Where the fuck, Shayda?” His fist slams into the console table, so ‘fuck’ is an obscure, jarring thud, like some censored song on the radio.
“I changed my mind.”
“You changed your mind. Just like that?” He starts pacing the hallway. “And when were you were planning to tell me exactly? When, Shayda?”
“I made a mistake.” My voice quivers. “I got caught up in the moment. We were alone, we were away. It was all an illusion.”
“An illusion?” He pulls me hard against him. Our bodies collide, knocking the breath out of me. “Is this an illusion?”
His lips assault mine.
“And this?” His hand slides under my dress, claiming my thigh.
“What about this, Shayda?” He pushes my panties aside and slides two fingers inside.
“Tell me, Shayda. Tell me this is all in my head.” He shoves me against the door and deepens his strokes. “Tell me this is nothing.” He rubs his fingers on my neck, leaving the unmistakable trail of my reaction.
“This is you, Shayda.” His finger slips inside my mouth. “Your taste, your smell, your skin, your touch.” He grabs me by the hair and pulls my head back. “Tell me you’re not real, Shayda. Tell me!”
I feel the gathump gathump of his heart. Our breath comes in short, shallow gasps. His eyes darken, black holes pushing sky blue irises to the edges of raw emotion. Hunger. Anger. Love. Pain.

The moment when everything changed:

For a moment, I fought against the disarming tenderness of a stranger, the shame of being caught in a moment of weakness. Then his arms circled my waist, pulling me away from the door, from whatever heartache he had witnessed in my reflection. The fight drained out of me. I turned into the shelter of his embrace, and he, not knowing, not asking, took me in.

Something changed in that instant. For me. For him. Like when the sun and moon align and day turns to night. They finally see each other’s faces and hang, transfixed, even as their eclipse throws everything else into darkness. For those fleeting moments, everything made sense—the pattern behind the random trajectory of life, the infinite order beneath chaos.

For a while, she just stood there, like a deer that knows it’s been caught in the hunter’s cross hairs. Then she bolted.

I seized her before she could escape, pinning her against the glass, my hand over hers, so I could anchor her, keep her from getting swept away.

Hey. It’s okay.

She made a small, choking sound when I pulled her away from the sliding door. My arms went around her and her cheek found my chest. And just like that, something fell into place.

All of my wild, crazy exuberance fit perfectly in the quiet crevices of her dreams. It was as if all my life, I had been running towards this moment, this diamond sharp clarity of being and belonging, this strange, intriguing girl with her rose breath and her broken wings.

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Leylah Attar writes stories about love - shaken, stirred and served with a twist. When she's not writing, she can be found pursuing her other passions: photography, food, family and travel. Sometimes she disappears into the black hole of the internet, but can usually be enticed out with chocolate.

Author Website




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