Come As You Are Book Review นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Perfect. As I flipped through the chapters, the story heated up fast. The protagonist, a shy librarian much like me, was cornered in the stacks by a dominant stranger. His hands roamed her body without mercy, fingers teasing her nipples until they ached, then dipping lower to claim her wetness. I shifted on the couch, feeling that familiar tingle between my legs. God, why did these books always get me so worked up? My thighs pressed together instinctively, seeking friction.

“That line about choosing yourself? I underlined it three times.” Another laughed. “I didn’t expect your book to call me out like that. I was reading on the bus and just sat there thinking… wow. Okay.” A girl no older than twenty stood in front of me, hands shaking slightly. “Your character made me feel less crazy,” she said, eyes glassy. “Like maybe I’m not broken for wanting more.” She cried before she finished the sentence. I slid tissues across the table and squeezed her hand, my throat tight in that quiet way.

Finally I spoke, "Where exactly are we mom? I thought the book was to tell me everything." "Well dear, the book actually brought you here so I could speak with you. Sure it tells you everything but I needed to tell you all of this in person, well as in person as we could get. In a sense you're in your self conscious. A piece of your mind that you find peace in." "I was awake though when I opened the book. Shouldn't I have been asleep?" "On that part the page summoned you here. In a way you're asleep but I have faith that Slate is waiting beside you for your return."

Inside the Archive, the shelves moved with my breath. I passed by a book bound in velvet dusk. Its title: The First Time You Chose Softness Over Safety. Another: How You Loved When No One Was Looking. I reached for a third. It burned with light before revealing its name: What You Became When You Stopped Trying to Be Understood. I wept then—not from pain, but from reunion. The guide touched my shoulder. “There’s one more,” they said. They led me to a door I hadn’t noticed.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. Then Came You (The Youngers Book 1) Published by Blue Violet Press LLC Seattle, Washington Copyright © 2018 by Iris Morland Cover design by Resplendent Media All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotat

"I'm glad you do. But I must tell you this; it's going to be hard. It's not going to be easy. You'd feel like bailing and you'd feel like a shitty person. We all are at a point in our lives before we heal. So when you come the day after tomorrow, I want you to come with every baggage you can carry and we will offload as much as we can to make you feel lighter by the time you return home, okay?" I nodded. She picked a book and handed it over to me. "This is a book I wrote last year: The Abstractness of The Mental. I give it out for free to my patients as I like to call you all." I laughed and nodded before looking down at the book. It had a glossy feeling to it and a picture of the brain and

“Your book… it made it feel possible. Not easy. But possible. Like you don’t have to have all the power. You just have to be more annoying.” I laughed. “That’s the unofficial slogan.” On the drive home, exhilarated and exhausted, we dissected the night in the car. “Did you see the guy taking notes during your ‘asymmetrical narrative engagement’ bit?” Chloe asked Arthur from the backseat. “He looked like he was trying to diagram your soul.” “He was a sociology PhD candidate. He asked for my sources,” Arthur said, a hint of smugness in his voice. “I sold three copies of the book,” I said, still amazed. “To actual strangers.”

"Amy!" someone shouted, after the door burst open and the sound of wood impacting the loud wall startled me. "Good grief," I turned around, after throwing all my books on the floor, why my hands were more concerned about protecting me from the crazy person who came like a deranged person into the room, "Lucas Fowler, damn it, you scared me half to death!"I complained angrily to my friend, who came in surprise to the place where I was; I slipped into an empty room to organize my books, since I had just been able to buy them when the bank released the money that I had stupidly established to buy my supplies for the next semester.

"I feel confident in this dress, and I'm wearing it." "Bookworm," He raised his voice to argue, but I glared at him to continue. He assessed my face for the longest of seconds and sighed. "Stay at my side." I nodded, too delighted on the fact I didn't look like a clown. Maybe I could do it. Maybe I could get into this world of his. Maybe I could accept my body as my own at last. It was mine. Not of that bastard. It was my body. Just mine.

Client - imaginary reader with a real life common complain Show - book Episodes - chapters Producer: Author, me I couldn’t be more grateful to all givers of gems. ♥ You made me happy & I hope this book made you happy. You don’t have to be as excited as Hessuel but you can be as thoughtful as him. You may not be as powerful as Dandeline but you can be as ambitious as her when it comes to your dream. [Optional] I thank you if you’re ever thinking about leaving a review. Let’s put some twist! 1st: mention one specific thing you learned from this book