TOXIC Synopsis: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? Buy
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My Review
I loved, loved, absolutely loved the book. Gabe, makes the top of my list of book boyfriends. He's funny - crazy funny - a good friend, a dedicated boyfriend and a tatted artist with too many feelings. Which, in my my book, makes him PERFECT. And his interaction with Saylor, their slowly building romance - de-li-cious!
The book has a lot of humor, a lot of feeling, a touch of action and left me waiting for the next book in the series. I've laughed, I've cried, I sighed and I promised myself to watch the
sky for fallong stars to wish for a Gabe without the sad past.
I recommend it to everybody who loves a good love story with heartbreak, pain, loss, gain, memories and touching moments. It should come with a warning, though: Don't start reading without handkerchief close by and some chocolate, too, preferably.
EXCERPT:
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[L1] . “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 Bio:
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!
LINKS:
Website: http://rachelvandykenauthor.com/
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TOXIC Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18935386-toxic?ac=1
Rachel Van Dyken Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4882127.Rachel_Van_Dyken
