Published on June 17th, 2014
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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.
"Sexy, intense fiction isn't afraid to step out of the box."
Contemporary women's fiction: Ages 18+
We are so honored to host a guest review from one of our faves, author Claire Contreras! Check out her review below!
I want to preface this by saying that every time I go into a book like this knowing the subject matte I am scared. I found 53 Letters for My Lover through a friend who raved and raved until I had no choice but to read it, and once I started I couldn’t stop. The writing, graceful and melodic, captured me from the first page. The story was so real that I could feel the character’s longing. It was as though they were breathing on to me every time they met on the page. At times I felt vulnerable, pained and terrified about what might happen. There were a few moments where I wanted to sneak a peak ahead just so my heart wouldn’t thump out of its cage. That’s how potent the story is. When something makes you feel that much you can’t ignore it. I finished this book and looked around wondering why nobody else was practically bouncing out of their shells like I was. Days later I thought about it. Months later, I still think about it. That, to me, is the mark of a great story. 53 Letters for My Lover is not a light read, but will make your heart flutter. It is not a suspense, but will keep you on edge with every turn of the page. It is not a conventional love story, but will have you rooting for this couple nonetheless. It is not a tale of boy meets girl, they go through struggle and they live happily ever after. No great love story is ever that simple. This love stands the test of time. This one makes you bleed, laugh, blush, and smile. Best of all, it makes you hope for that eternal love. That unconditional, head over heels, no holds barred love that we all long for.
“So what’s it like? To have it all?”
“Like flying. Soaring. Until you come across the one thing you’d give it all up for, and can never have.”
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. “You…you 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…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.
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