Saturday, November 29, 2014

ARC Review- Last Will and Testament (Radleigh University #1) by Dahlia Adler

Title:  Last Will and Testament (Radleigh University #1)
Author:   Dahlia Adler
Publication Date: December 9th 2014

Plot:   Savage is book #3 in the Healer series. Before reading Savage it is strongly recommended that you read Healer and Hybrid first. 

A savage is barbaric. 

It attacks without restraint or pity. 

It is fierce, merciless, and brutal. 

Aldo has let that part of herself take over, drive her actions. I thought saving her from Bridge was my biggest problem.

I was wrong. 

Something happened while she was missing. And it has altered her in a way that she is almost unrecognizable. 

But she won’t tell me anything.

Instead, I’m forced to watch the young and naïve woman I’ve fallen in love with transition into everything I knew she could be; strong, fearless, and unstoppable. The problem is, she’s cut off her humanity, and coupled with those things, she’s a loose cannon.

She’s a savage.

My name is Daniel O’Sullivan and I’m in love with a broken woman. I will bring her back and remind her of who she really is no matter what it takes.

Even if it kills me.

 My Review 

☆ I received an ARC via the author in exchange for an honest review. Thank you! ☆


Dahlia Adler’s upcoming New Adult Romance was genuine, honest, and realistic…BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, it had heart!!

Last Will and Testament dwindled a delicate balance between life, family, love, and obligation.

For college wild-child, Lizzie Brandt, What happens when your life is spiraled upside down and you suddenly become the sole custodian and provider for two adolescent boys?


Faced with these obscurities while being a full time student, Lizzie, has to change her tune and get her act together before she not only flunks out of school, BUT, loses those most important to her—her brothers.

With the help of her handsome TA and a whole lot of growing up in the process, Last Will and Testament  was a heart-gripping, heart-rendering, and all around touching read that tugged at my heartstrings and admire Lizzie’s character for persevering during this grievous period (in her life) and push forward for the sake of her and her brothers’ futures.

I will definitely be keeping an ear and eye out for this author and her works, as well, as bk2 of this series!! Can’t wait!!


My Rating:
-Overall : 8.5
-Plot : 8.5
-Writing : 8.5
-Characters : 8.5
-Cover : 8

It’s not like I haven’t thought about that night a million times before, but the realization of just how many things have changed since then brings me to my knees right there in the grass surrounding the parking lot, hidden only by a couple of trees. It’s dark out, a beautiful, starry night interrupted by the faint sounds of TVs coming from the apartments above me and the crickets around me. And I have to go ahead and fuck up the near-silence with the sound of my crying.

Once it starts, I can’t stop. I’m in a sitting fetal position, my arms grasping my knees to my chest, my face buried in my knees, and I’m soaking my skin and probably making a racket but I can’t shut it off. I can’t make it stop. I can’t. Undo. Anything.

And then, “Elizabeth?”

Oh, shit. I swipe at my eyes, my nose, everything. Push back and look up, bracing myself on my palms in the grass. “What are you doing back here, Connor?”

            He settles next to me on the grass and pushes tear-soaked hair out of my eyes. “I never went anywhere,” he says quietly, handing me a tissue.

            “You’ve just been sitting in your fucking car?”

He shrugs. “It’s a nice night.”

“It was,” I say bitterly. “Go home, Mr. Lawson.”

His hands leave my face, dig into the grass, pull at the blades at his sides. “Don’t you think if I could have, I would have?” 

My eyelids flutter closed, and I take one last halfhearted swipe at my nose with the tissue. “I told you, I can’t play this game with you. What do you want from me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well then I definitely can’t help you.”

He huffs out a sigh, and I open my eyes. He might be annoyed, and as tired as I am, but he’s settled back against the trees now, and he’s obviously not going anywhere. “What do you want from me, Lizzie? Because I’m pretty sure what you need is more than I can give.”

“Pretty sure, huh?” I don’t mean to sound flirty, but the thing is, even tired, and angry, and infuriating, Connor Lawson, in his stupid professorly attire, is still the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Especially in the moonlight. Especially when he’s sitting in the moonlight, next to me, because he actually gives a shit about who I am and what I need.

His lips curve up in a smile despite himself and he shakes his head. “You are so…you.”

My fingers find the soft, smooth back of his hand, trace it with their tips, slide into his in perfect interlocking formation. He doesn’t pull away. “Who else would I be?”

For the first time since he got out of his car and found me in the grass, Connor looks up at me, into my eyes, and I can’t help wondering what it is he sees. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

It’s a rare compliment from him, and I’m not great at those. “I’m an asshole, Connor. You just came to check on me because I was crying over my dead parents and I’m sort of hitting on you.”

He smiles softly, squeezes my fingers. “There’s no right way to grieve, Lizzie. You are who you are, and you feel how you feel. As long as you’re getting through the day, that’s all that matters.”

“What if I’m not?”

“You are,” he says firmly. “You’re here. Your brothers are fed. They’re in your apartment. They’re safe. Your parents couldn’t have asked for better care.”

“I’m not talking about my brothers right now.”

“I know,” he says. “But if I talk about you I am going to say some things I really shouldn’t say.”

“I can’t tell if that’s promising or threatening. Like?”

He laughs wearily. “Sacrament. You’re going to be the end of me, Elizabeth Brandt.”

“That sounds closer to promising.” And then, because he’s making me smile, because he’s making me forget, because his holy French-Canadian swear words are so cute, because he’s making me feel things that aren’t pain and death and despair and failure, I kiss him. His lips are soft and warm and yield to mine like they’ve been waiting all night for exactly this.
 About the Author 

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I’m an Associate Editor of mathematics by day, a Copy Editor by night, and a YA/NA author and blogger (here, at YA Misfits, and at Barnes & Noble Book Blog) every spare moment in between. I’m also on a quest to make the perfect French macaron, and enjoying all the flawed ones along the way. (Except the ones I accidentally made with garbanzo bean flour. Those were gross.)

I live in New York City with my husband, who makes seriously good challah and mostly doesn’t mind when I yell at the TV. My debut YA novel is called BEHIND THE SCENES, and you might like it. For info on my upcoming books, click here.

More often than not, I’m on Twitter as @MissDahlELama – come say hi!

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