AHHH! Well, I'm currently reading The Opposite of You which, btw, is my first ever Rachel Higginson book and was recommended by some of my fav blogger girls! And whoa, they were so right!!!! I. AM. DYING. OVER. THIS. As someone who is a complete foodie at heart (I could eat forever), and is addicted to the Food Network and Bravo with their shows like Top Chef, Chopped, Cutthroat Kitchen, etc etc etc, I'm in heaven reading this story. It's about a food cart owner (Vera) and a prolific chef who runs a renowned restaurant called Lilou's. These two are OMG. OMG OMG <<--- lots of squealing. They're all the things. They have this -- I don't like you, but I can't help but be curious about you - you annoy me - god, why are you so sexy? - I want you - frick, I hate that I want you -- you're an asshole -- thing that develops into a delicious, sexy, heart stopping, swoon inducing back and forth that I can't stop reading. The tension between Killian and Vera is shiver worthy. Gahhhh! I'm in love with their chemistry, their dynamic. This book feels so well paced. I can't get enough, you guys. The FLOW, the perfect picture that's created for us. AH. AH. AH. So far I'm in it till the end, and actually, I'm dreading the finish line. I wish great books could last foreverrrrrrrrr!

Title: The Opposite of You
Series: Bk #1 - Opposites Attract Standalone 
Author: Rachel Higginson
Release Date: March 30, 2017
Purchase Amazon 

I’ve sworn off men.
All men.
Famous last words, right? You’re expecting some epic tale of reluctant love and my dramatic change of heart? Well, you’re not going to get it.
I’m stubborn. And headstrong. And I’ve just survived the worst three years of my life. After escaping an abusive boyfriend to live in hostels and cheap hotels while I worked my way across Europe, I’ve come to two conclusions.
The first? Now that I’m back home, I’m going to squander my expensive culinary degree on a food truck that caters to the late night drunk crowd.
The second? I’m going to prove to the bastard across the plaza that my street food is better than his fussy five course monstrosities.
Killian Quinn might be Food and Wine’s Chef to Watch Out For. He might have a Michelin Star. He might have every food critic in the city wrapped around his too-large fingers. But he’s also pretentious and unbearably arrogant and the very opposite of me.
So he can keep his unsolicited advice and his late night visits and his cocky smiles. I want none of it. Or him.
I want the opposite.

I clenched my teeth so hard, my jaw ticked. He was a pushy, intrusive asshole. And completely right. Damn him. I shoved my way between him and the stove, grabbing for the red pepper flakes, just to make a point that this was still my kitchen.

“You went a little light.”

He peered over my shoulder, his chest pressing momentarily against my back. His deep voice rumbled in my ear. “Careful, chef.”

I shivered. I couldn’t help it. He made the relentless summer day feel frigid compared to his body heat. His breath danced along my earlobe and despite the savory sauce filling the kitchen with Mediterranean scents and tangible defeat, all I could smell was him.

The whisk in my hand trembled once, twice. I leaned back into him, unable to resist exploring what it would feel like to be pressed against his hard chest, how he would make me feel against his body.

I had to know.

He leaned closer, and my shoulders settled against him, his hand landing on my hip with the lightest touch. A ripple of uncertainty vibrated through me. I should pull away. I shouldn’t have gotten this close to begin with.

I started to step to the side and Killian’s fingers dug into my hip, holding me in place, taking the decision away from me. His touch was light only seconds before now it was strong, familiar, possessive. He was used to getting his way and I’d suddenly stopped coming up with reasons why I shouldn’t let him have it.



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