Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Waiting on Wednesday: Unbeautifully (Undeniable #2) by Madeline Sheehan

Waiting on Wednesday is a weekly blog event hosted by Breaking the Spine featuring anxiously awaited upcoming releases.
The wait is killing us!!!! We are ready for more hardcore MC NOW!!! All we know is it will be sometime this year and that sucks!! We need a time frame, maybe that will at least ease the pain in our minds, lol.

*Warning: This book contains several aspects of the uglier side of life; it is not for everyone.*

The story of Ripper and Danny.

The first time I fell in love it was with a pair of blue eyes and a wide dimpled grin.

“Your old man loves ya, Danny girl,” He whispered. “You never ever forget that, yeah?”

I never did. And I never thought I could ever love any man as much as I loved my father. But as we grow, we change, we begin to make our own decisions and thus become independent and self sufficient and start turning away from our parents and turning to others. We form friendships, strong bonds and ties and begin experiencing life outside of the bubble we grew up inside of.

And we fall in love…a second time.

The second time I fell in love it was with a badly scarred face, the stuff of nightmares; the sort of disfigurement that mothers steer their children away from. Ugly, jagged slashes marred the skin from the top of his skull, down over his right eye, an eye that had been dug out of his face with a serrated blade. The scars continued across his cheek, over his lips and down his neck, ending at the top of his shoulder. His chest was a hundred times worse; scar tissue as far as the eye could see.

“Baby,” He said gruffly, “Man like me got no business with a girl like you. You’re nothin’ but fuckin’ beauty and I’m a whole lot of fuckin’ ugly who’s already halfway to hell.”

But he was wrong.
Everything has beauty. Even the ugly. Especially the ugly.
Because without ugly there would be no beauty.
Because without beauty we would not survive our pain, our sorrow, and our suffering.
And in the world I lived in, the world he lived in, a secret world within the world, a world of of constant crime and cruel, cold, death, there was almost nothing but suffering.

“You may not be beautiful the way you were before,” I whispered, cupping his ruined cheek. “But you’re still beautiful. To me.”

They made it maybe a mile down the dark, deserted highway when Danny’s hands suddenly fisted in his tee shirt, her body pressed in closer to his and her thighs squeezed reflexively around his hips. His heart started pounding.
Wave after wave of heat began to roll through him until he could barely see straight.
Knowing it was a bad idea, knowing exactly what was going to happen, he pulled off the highway and onto a patch of grass.
Cutting the engine, he shoved his kickstand down.
Neither of them spoke.
Or moved.
They just breathed.
Hers, quick and short.
His, loud and heavy.
Just breathing.
Then her fingers began to creep down his abdomen, to the edge of his tee shirt where she paused, fingering the threadbare material. He stopped breathing altogether and just gripped his handlebars, praying for strength.
“Ripper,” She whispered.
Aw, Jesus, that sweet, sweet voice…
....and the angelic face and the FUCKING body that owned that voice...
He was so fucked.
"Yeah baby?" He said gruffly.
Her hands slipped under his shirt and her nails dug into the skin on his stomach
"Please..." She breathed.

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