Title: Blue
Author: S.M. West
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: July 12, 2017
Rating: 4.5 Stars
Told in the first person. Alternating persons.
Rating: 4.5 Stars
Told in the first person. Alternating persons.
Disclosure of
Material Connection: I received this book
for review from Give Me Books and the author.
I was not compensated nor was I required to write a positive
review. The opinions I have expressed
are my own. I am posting this in
accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of
Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising".
Blurb:
Blue. The color of devotion.
CARYS WOLFE is my heart.
Mine, always.
Leaving her nearly killed me.
Leaving her nearly killed me.
I thought it was the only way to keep her safe.
She’s moved on, and I want her back.
***
EVAN HART is my heart.
Loving him is my destiny.
I waited my entire life for our time,
I waited my entire life for our time,
for us to finally be together,
only to have him leave.
only to have him leave.
Now he’s back.
Though my mind can’t forgive him,
my heart can’t forget.
my heart can’t forget.
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My Thoughts:
Evan “Van” Hart has a right to be angry – I would be too. Carys Wolfe gets the shock of her life – it
will take time and patience to figure out if that’s a good thing or a bad
thing. She’s suffered a loss that hits
home for me – especially since it’s only been a couple of months. She shares that tragedy with Evan. I hope that most, but it would be nice to say
all but I can’t, will never have that type of pain. It’s the type of pain that can affect you no
matter your age.
It’s a sad way to start a story but in today’s world it’s all too
common. You keep reading because you
want to see that sadness turn into hope and than hopefully love. The author does a great job of creating
tension between our two main characters - although most of it seems to be
coming from Carys. There’s a slight age
difference but I didn’t find that it made any difference. How many of you had a crush on your brother’s
friend? This takes that crush one step
further.
Some may not like the fact that the story goes back and forth
between the past and the present. I
found that it just added to the story.
We all have a history and don’t you read a story and sometimes wonder
about a character’s past? It’s a story
that we need to hear but I don’t think I would have enjoyed the story as much
if the past our author reveals was all done at the beginning of the book. Evan and Carys show how much passion they
have for each other and how that passion slowly developed.
Even though this is the second book in the Love In Color series, you could consider this book a
standalone. This author caught my
attention long before I even got halfway through and that just means that at
some point I will have to take the time and go back and read Red.
And once I got to the end of this book, I was happy to see that there’s
another book coming out next year. This
is an author that will stay on my radar for quite a while.
Excerpt:
“Evan, I want to know what happened, but I have a life now and you need to know…” She trails off, her eyes darting away from mine.
“What?”
Gazing up at me, she continues, “Whatever you have to say, it’s not going to change a thing. We’re over.”
My heart twists and breathing becomes difficult. Mother fuck, her words cut deep, hurting even though they aren’t true. Sure, she believes them on some level—she had to, in order to get through what I did. Yet, along with the hurt and disappointment swimming in her eyes, there’s also tenderness and love.
“Tell me you’re happy and I’ll walk away.”
We always pushed each other, challenged the other to face our fears, to be honest with ourselves, with each other. I need to hear her say it. I don’t believe it, but if she is over me, I need to hear it in her voice and see it in her face—not because I want to, but because it’s the only way I can even begin to accept that we’re over. Even then, it’s not possible.
“I’m happy.” Her tone is laden with bravado, but no true emotion. Even her gaze, which never wavers from mine, is flat.
Shaking my head, I briefly cast my eyes downward to suppress my smile. “No, you’re not.”
“Van.” I flinch at that fucking name.
As a child, I thought it was so fucking cool to have a nickname that only my best friends would call me. Now, hearing “Van” from her pretty lips, I want to obliterate the word from her vocabulary, fucking kiss the word out of her.
“You can call me asshole for all I care, you’re not happy,” I retort in frustration. Catching my tone, I breathe deeply and loosen my fists to relax. “Don’t lie to me, and most of all, don’t lie to yourself.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You want to see what you want. I’m with Greg, and we’re happy.”
She grimaces infinitesimally, then averts her eyes from me. Unable to read her, I’m not sure if it’s because she means it and doesn’t want to hurt my feelings or if the lie tastes nasty in her mouth.
“What?”
Gazing up at me, she continues, “Whatever you have to say, it’s not going to change a thing. We’re over.”
My heart twists and breathing becomes difficult. Mother fuck, her words cut deep, hurting even though they aren’t true. Sure, she believes them on some level—she had to, in order to get through what I did. Yet, along with the hurt and disappointment swimming in her eyes, there’s also tenderness and love.
“Tell me you’re happy and I’ll walk away.”
We always pushed each other, challenged the other to face our fears, to be honest with ourselves, with each other. I need to hear her say it. I don’t believe it, but if she is over me, I need to hear it in her voice and see it in her face—not because I want to, but because it’s the only way I can even begin to accept that we’re over. Even then, it’s not possible.
“I’m happy.” Her tone is laden with bravado, but no true emotion. Even her gaze, which never wavers from mine, is flat.
Shaking my head, I briefly cast my eyes downward to suppress my smile. “No, you’re not.”
“Van.” I flinch at that fucking name.
As a child, I thought it was so fucking cool to have a nickname that only my best friends would call me. Now, hearing “Van” from her pretty lips, I want to obliterate the word from her vocabulary, fucking kiss the word out of her.
“You can call me asshole for all I care, you’re not happy,” I retort in frustration. Catching my tone, I breathe deeply and loosen my fists to relax. “Don’t lie to me, and most of all, don’t lie to yourself.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You want to see what you want. I’m with Greg, and we’re happy.”
She grimaces infinitesimally, then averts her eyes from me. Unable to read her, I’m not sure if it’s because she means it and doesn’t want to hurt my feelings or if the lie tastes nasty in her mouth.
“Sweetness, I know everything there is to know about you, without apology. You can’t lie to me.”
S.M. West is an indie author who writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, erotica and whatever her heart desires.
She spends her time juggling ay day job, being a mom and wife, and writing. On top of that, she's a self-professed junkie of many things including a voracious fan of music, a born wanderer, a wine aficionado and chocolate connoisseur.
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