☆✮ My Review ✮☆
☆ I received an ARC via Author's HQ in exchange for an honest review. Thank you! ☆
Blind Passion was a fast, light, and very sweet read with some cheesy dialogue and banters. I was initially attracted to the whole prognosis of a young woman who’d lost her sight in a tragic accident and a haunted war veteran trying to sort out himself, but it turned to be more poignantly about two broken souls just trying to make it in their world on their own terms. Sounds pretty relatable to just about everyone else, right?
Another thing I'd like to mention in this, is that while reading it-- Taylor Swift’s and Ed Sheeran’s song, "Everything Has Changed," had just kept popping into my mind as the book's song anthem. These characters don't meet while they're young like in the music video, but, I felt that lyrically-wise it sort of correlated a bit.
I mean, they meet twice--- once at a bar and the second time under false pretenses on JD’s part...and the sparks immediately fly...
JD and Leah then develop a close kinsmanship and friendship that eventually leads to love. And for both of them, it’s like a long time coming home.
But then life happens ++ JD’s secret is finally revealed.
What will become of these two unlikely lovers? Will their pasts and hindrances keep them from moving forward and pursuing the realest thing that has ever come into their lives? Or will they succumb to their fears and doubts? Get ready to be “blinded by passion” ladies and gents! Can't wait for the next bk2 on the next Wyatt brother!!
☆✮ Excerpt ✮☆
I was nearly asleep, the plot of the CSI show lost on me, when my doorbell rang. I literally jumped to my feet, my heart pumping so hard and fast it hurt. Who would be at my door tonight? If Bets had changed her mind and decided to come over, she’d have phoned first. Maybe my parents had forgotten something and come back for it.
I muted the TV, moved to the door, and leaned close. “Who’s there?”
“J.D. Wyatt.” He added to jog my memory, “From across the hall.”
“Yeah. Just a minute.” I hurried into my bedroom, found a cardigan, and wrapped it around me to hide my braless state, then returned to open the door.
“Hi. What’s up?” My voice sounded breathless, as if I’d sprinted and I was sweating a little.
“I brought you something.” A paper bag rattled, and he paused long enough for me to realize he’d held up whatever it was, forgetting I couldn’t see. “Ice cream. Or if you need something a little stronger after the big move, I’ve got whiskey too.”
I tried for clever. “How about whiskey floats?”
“Perfect.” He chuckled, and heat more potent than whiskey rippled through me.
“Come on in.”
I led the way into my apartment. For just a second, I doubted whether it was sensible to invite a complete stranger inside. Shouldn’t I get to know him for more than two minutes? But I shrugged off my mother’s voice whispering worry at me.
I gestured in the direction of the couch. “Sit down. I’ll get glasses.”
He stepped close and held the bag so my fingertips brushed paper.
I took the bag and went into my kitchenette where I shoved the ice cream in the freezer and opened the bottle of whiskey. I poured a couple of glasses and sipped mine to calm my nerves before returning to the living room. What did I look like? Was my hair a mess? My pj’s too scruffy? How was I going to check my appearance every day without Mom there to give me the thumbs-up? At least the aide, Gina, would be around for a month.
I calmed myself but clung to the glasses too tightly as I returned to the living room and held out one.
“Thanks.” J.D. took it from me.
From the direction of his voice, I needed to correct a few paces the other way in order to reach one of the chairs facing the couch. I navigated slowly, and when my shin bumped the chair, I found the front of it and sat—more awkward than I’d like in front of a guest, but not too bad.
My unexpected visitor clicked his glass against mine. “Cheers.”
The straight whiskey was far more potent than the microbrews I was used to. It burned my throat and baked my stomach, but a warm, relaxed sensation filled me soon after, and that was nice.
“Looks like you’re settling in,” J.D. said. I imagined what my apartment might look like, but for the first time, I was living someplace I hadn’t seen before my accident, so I couldn’t visualize it.
“My family helped put everything in order.” I searched for something else to add. “You mentioned you moved in recently too. Are you new to Chicago?”
“Yeah. I’m from Kentucky. Went into the army after high school. I just returned from a tour in Afghanistan and crashed at my brother’s place here for a while.”
Another military vet. There seemed to be a lot more of them these days.
“I’m juggling a couple of part-time jobs while I figure out what to do next,” J.D. added.
“Guess we’re both in transition. I’m all about figuring out my future too.”
“Change is hard.” His voice was slow and thoughtful. His Southern accent seemed more pronounced.
I loved the smooth, sexy drawl. Maybe it was the liquor percolating through me, sending tingly sex signals down between my legs, or maybe it was the hushed intimacy of the two of us sitting together in my apartment, but I was becoming aroused. Every time J.D. shifted or swallowed more of his drink, the quiet movements gave me a little shiver. Again a sense of familiarity tickled at the edge of my consciousness, as if I’d been here before. And I felt as if I was poised beside something big stirring and waking up.
“Change is hard,” I echoed. “Especially when it’s forced on you and you don’t know what direction to take next.”
I must sound pathetic. The alcohol loosened my tongue, making me talk too openly to a stranger.
“Sometimes it seems like I’m feeling my way blind—oh fuck, I did not just say that.” The horror in J.D.’s voice made me smile.
“It’s okay. Don’t sweat it. Honestly, it’s kind of nice to know I’m not the only one flailing around in the dark.”
He laughed, and what a sweet, rich sound that was. Little petals of attraction unfurled inside me. Or, to be more honest, it was petals of pure, primal, gut-level lust. I slowed down on sipping the whisky before it made me do things I might regret.
☆✮ About the Author ✮☆
NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Author
I began telling stories as a child. Whenever there was a sleepover, I was the designated ghost tale teller. I still have a story printed on yellow legal paper in second grade about a ghost, a witch and a talking cat.
I enjoy reading stories about people damaged by life who find healing with a like-minded soul. When I couldn’t find enough books to suit my taste, I began to write them.