These Women Book Review Novels & Stories

“Look at this! Read the chat!” Isis stifled a laugh as Astrid read the messages aloud. “Oh, my poor husband,” Astrid said, patting Donnovan’s cheek. “Don’t mind them. They’re just joking. You know your friends.” Then she looked at Isis. “There are three kinds of women, and it depends on who she is. First, the wild woman who will kiss you if you lick her neck. Second, the in-between woman who would punch you or run away. Third, the innocent woman who would blush.”

They all look down, afraid to upset her but in shock of her ability to separate from her wolf. All the many wolves behind her, all shift back in to humans to watch as the men before them go on their knees. The skies clear up and a full moon shines through the night from day, the light of the moon shining on the beautiful woman standing tall among men. "It's amazing how these books speak to you. We have to read them like normal people but you, they open up to you. To tell the story the way it actually happened." Dalia says as she places a cup of coffee on my nightstand.

“What was?” “Going after her like that,” he said, a thread of irritation slipping into his voice. “You barely exchanged two words before you dragged Clara into it. Why?” Lyana’s smile thinned, just a flicker. “Because she needed reminding of where she stands. Women like Irene… they show up with sharp eyes and sharp tongues, thinking they belong in every room. Someone has to put them back in their place.” Kieran frowned, unsettled. “Still. Clara had nothing to do with it. She’s just a child.”

Marissa POV The women's block was its own special hell. Not because the women were more violent than the men though some were but because the cruelty was more subtle. Psychological warfare instead of physical assault. Whispers and stares and alliances shifting like sand. They'd put me in a cell with three other women. One ignored me completely, reading a Bible with single minded focus. Another, a young girl who couldn't be more than nineteen, watched me with terrified eyes. The third studied me with calculating interest.

The reviews began arriving on Thursday. Patricia Osei had told me to read them but not to organize my understanding of the book around them because the book had been written for the women in the long middle and the women in the long middle were not the reviewers. The reviewers were the first room the book passed through on its way to the people it was for. The first review I read was from a literary publication that described the book as unflinching and specific and written with the particular authority of someone who had lived inside the thing she was describing rather than observing it from outside.

“But aligned. Structurally. Functionally.” Her pulse picked up. “That doesn’t make sense.” The woman stepped forward again, reading the data herself now. “It does,” she said quietly. No one spoke. Because the tone had changed. Not discovery. Confirmation. Evelyn’s voice dropped. “Explain.” The woman didn’t look at her. She looked at Damian. “You weren’t meant to forget everything.” Damian’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t forget. I was never told.” “That’s not how this works.”

They didn’t sugarcoat anything, didn’t make it sound like everything came up roses; no, they were very true to the vagaries that befell women at this stage of the game. There were testimonials from other young women who shared the stark truth about their experiences, and some young men even added their perspectives as new fathers. It was safe to say that most of those people didn’t have the financial security that I now had, but they all had their own ideas on how to survive what some called the more harrowing experience of their lives. I felt a lot better after reading along with him and sharing our own ideas of how to face some of the things mentioned in the book. I wouldn’t say all of my

she asked. Alvin smiled, ready for a kill. "I recently read this novel by a New York Times bestselling author who goes by the name AdelleX. The title of her novel is 'The Woman's Dark Secrets.' I think all women have dark secrets that they are trying hard to keep buried within the four corners of their minds. Am I right?" Briana rolled her eyes. "And does the book satisfy your craving for juicy stuff and endless drama?" Alvin looked at her, wearing a surprised expression on his face. "How did you know that I like juicy stuff?"

I asked as I slid into my seat. “Not yet,” she laughed. “Which one is this book? Another werewolf mate at first sight then rejected?” I giggled. “Don’t knock my rejection novels!” Rose glared at me, but it was without heat. “How come the wolf that gets rejected is either female or gay? Why can’t the female reject the male first?” I asked. She shrugged. “Probably because they’re mostly written by women who’ve experienced rejection in real life, and they write their dreams of becoming powerful.”

“That's what society thinks. They portray women as these weak creatures that they could easily prey on.” “What I hate the most, is how these books don't change. I mean, women do need men. That's how it works, that's how we live. We werewolves also need our mate. But the storyline is always the same,” I said. “She's always the weak female lead who needs a man to save her or pull her out of her shell. It's pathetic.” “That's what makes the female gender attractive to them I think.” “The fact that they like us dumb or the fact that they know some of us are just stupid?”