Title: The Paper Swan
Author: Leylah Attar
Release Date: AUGUST 4, 2015!!
SYNOPSIS:They say it takes 21 days to form a habit.They lie.For 21 days she held on.But on Day 22, she would have given anything for the sweet slumber of death.Because on Day 22, she realizes that her only way out means certain death for one of the two men she loves.A haunting tale of passion, loss, and redemption, The Paper Swan is a darkly intense yet heartwarming love story, textured with grit, intrigue, and suspense. Please note: This is NOT a love triangle.A full-length, standalone novel, intended for mature audiences due to violence, sex and language. Subject matter may be disturbing for some readers.
"The truth doesn’t always set you free. The truth can kill you, slice open your innards and turn everything inside out."
Leylah Attar's The Paper Swan just blew my mind. Truly. This author took everything I've come to expect of romance, of suspense, of the captor/captive dynamic, and turned it completely upside down. This story is so refreshingly original and so superbly executed, it's absolutely one of my favorite reads of the year. I tried to read it slowly, to savor it, but that was near impossible because I simultaneously wanted to devour it without taking a single breath. It's frightening and intriguing, jaw-dropping and heart-stopping, intense and somewhat dark. It's sexy and sultry and as beautiful as it is heartbreaking. I can't recall the last time I was made to feel so many different emotions within the span of one book. From beginning to end, the reader is taken on an unpredictable ride that had me scared to death at times, furious the next, leaving tears in my eyes on one page, and smiling from ear to ear the next. Joyful and painful flashbacks and the terror and brutality of the present day juxtapose with a fierce, terrifying attraction to make for a story that is impossible to predict. I was all over the place with my emotions, hating and loving and grieving and dreading and hoping and longing. I felt everything in this book, from the first page to the very last.
"I knew better than to romanticize my captor, but there it was—sick and twisted and disgusting as it was."
The heart-stopping course of events that drives The Paper Swan is like nothing I've ever read. It's an intense, passionate, gripping story of vengeance and love, self-discovery and redemption that transcends time and circumstance. Every word, every page brings the reader to another unexpected twist on this thrilling, dark journey. My heart broke for these characters, feared them and feared for them, rooted for them, all the while both craving and dreading what would come next.
"We are sand and rock and water and sky, anchors on ships and sails in the wind."
The writing in this book is absolutely stunning. Poetic, lyrical prose and authentic, fluid dialogue illustrate an unforgettable storyline that wove it's way so deeply under my skin, I'm still reeling. I highlighted line after glorious line, not only because each and every word spoke to me in a profound way, but because Attar's sentences are as exquisite as her story is spellbinding. This book is perfection in every way a story can be. I was skeptical that 53 Letters for My Lover could be topped. Having loved that book as completely as I did, I was convinced this author came out at the top of her game. But with The Paper Swan comes my certainty that this author will only keep upping the ante with each new story. This book is so much more passionate, more vivid, more gritty and intense than I ever anticipated. What Leylah Attar has done with The Paper Swan is origami at its finest, taking pages and intricately crafting them into a stunning work of art. It's a must-read epic love story, but that's really just the tip of the iceberg. It's so much more. This story is everything.
I took one step back for each one he took forward, until I was jammed up between him and the wall.
God, he was intense. And deliberate. And he could say things with his eyes that made my knees tremble. One side of his face was bruised and distorted from where I’d hit him. He grasped both my wrists in one hand and pinned them above me. Every part of me felt flush with the heat emanating from his body, even though that was the only point of contact. He hooked a finger in the ‘V’ of my blouse, tracing the dangerously low cleavage. His touch was so soft, it was barely discernible.
“Skye?” He seemed hypnotized by the rapid rise and fall of my chest.
“Don’t play with scorpions unless you intend to get stung.” He yanked the neckline apart.
Round, glass buttons popped onto the floor and rolled around like eyeballs, astounded by the sight of my bare flesh.
“We’re harsh and predatory and full of venom.” He gnashed his teeth at me and ripped my blouse in two.
He tore off a strip and bound my wrists. Then he used the hanging trail like a leash and led me to bed.
“You’ve been trying to get a rise out of me for days. Now that you have my attention, what are you going to do?” He leaned forward, so close that I fell back onto the mattress, trying to get away from him. “Or is it that you want me to do all the work so your pampered pussy gets a taste of the other side, but you can tell yourself you didn’t have a choice?” He crawled up over me, slowly, until we were nose to nose.
I felt like hell was about to consume me. I could hear the men outside, gearing up to fill the tanks. Would they hear the sound of my screams?
“Would you like me to invite them in?” Damian secured my wrists to the bed post. “Do you really think you’d be safer with them instead of me?” He tore off another strip, giving me the chance to scream or yell or shout for help. When I didn’t, he tied it around my mouth.
He sank back on his heels, kneeling between my legs, and ran a finger from my neck to the front clasp of my bra. I stopped breathing. He moved on, trailing over my stomach, until he got to the band of my shorts. He toyed with the tab, enjoying the start-stop effect it had on my heart.
“Such a frightened little bird,” he said. Then he yanked my legs around his hips so I was flush with his rock hard arousal. “You should know better than to provoke me.”
Leylah Attar writes stories about love - shaken, stirred and served with a twist. When she's not writing, she can be found pursuing her other passions: photography, food, family and travel. Sometimes she disappears into the black hole of the internet, but can usually be enticed out with chocolate.