Book Review: Window (Michele Renae)

I received this book in exchange for a review, and here it is!cover37450-medium
Date Published: October 22, 2013
My Ratings: 7.5 / 10

“I loved that word: decadent. Unrestrained self-gratification. Indulgence.”

Set in modern day France, this contemporary piece is written in sensual prose that tells of a girl starting afresh by moving to Paris.

“I moved for adventure. I crossed the ocean for discovery. I moved for the pastries and baguettes. I arrived on foreign soil for the sexy Frenchmen and the Eiffel Tower.”

And sexy Frenchmen she did get. He moves into the building directly across from her. Thus begins their incredibly naughty mutual seduction, a flirtatious game played across neighboring windows.

“This slightly dangerous liaison was all about sight and imagination.”

Artful voyeurism at its best, the two volley between windows, each act bolder than the next. Readers are exposed to an incredibly honest insight into the inner workings of women. Told entirely from her point of view, the man and woman never actually exchanges any words at all. Imagination leads to intimacy, build upon mere acquaintanceship and zero expectation that they will ever end up as anything more.

At the end of the night, with a flick of the wrist, the curtains are drawn and so keeps the relationship at its best – at a distance.

First in a trilogy, Renae has me hooked already. Cliffhangers be damned, bring on the second book please!

If Window were made into a movie, I would love to have these people casted:

SHE: Erin Heatherton
erin-heatherton-84307

HE: Ian Somerhalder
ian-somerhalder-69847

SYNOPSIS:
An erotic romance behind glass…

The first time she sees her new neighbor, his sexy smile arouses her curiosity—and her desires. His hard, chiseled muscles and playful invitations are irresistible.

Bared before their windows, framed and displayed above the streets of Paris, they embark upon a provocative affair. Their daring game of exhibitionism lures her back for more and more, and she quickly realizes he is the man she has dreamed about.
Yet she’s never heard his voice. Never felt his touch. Never thought she’d experience something this exquisite.

Or this bold…
WINDOW is the first book in the Paris Secrets trilogy

the best memories

The best memories remain when the worst are forgotten.
None is as great a peacemaker as time,
that simmers sharp pangs to a dull ache of the heart
and wipes all slates clean when the pain comes to pass.

The best memories upholds the smile when the tears are gone.
A gunshot with its reverberations
inadvertently ends with drawn-out silence.
Nothing that lasts an eternity is worth fighting for.

I am
Sincerely wishing everything that’s only the best
for the people who have made the biggest impact on my life
without having to remain in it forever.
The best memories are the candles that once lit up the darkest rooms in your heart.

xoxo
Viktoria Jean

pola

PS. Brief trip down the memory lane,
I found myself smiling.

plugged into my iPod under my umbrella in the rain

Nobody knows we were meant to arrive in somebody else’s life
for reasons so obscure we speculate,
and plunge into the same mistakes,
putting a name, a cause, a title, a status allowing them to stay.
I’m listening
to your favourite overrated songs;
button sunken from the days you’d hit replay.

Plugged into my iPod under my umbrella in the rain,
I’m mistaken for a trespasser –
“ma’am I’m sorry to say
we’re closed for the day”.
Apologies to the most important people
are hardest to articulate.

We overlook –
Miscommunication, misunderstanding,
misinterpretation, mistakes
mis-en-scene
mishaps.
Drafted apologies.
I have my music,
I am okay.

Micro-managed music libraries, neatly filed, documented, genred,
starred biases;
playlists with names we (only) appreciate.

Useless music loops through my headphones,
caught in spirals
unable to escape,
muffled by the downpour
outside my

Splintered spokes of useless shelter
then carelessly discarded by the sidewalk
as I watched you
Ice-cold raindrops.
Your halo bruised from standing too long in the rain.

Can’t I simply like your smile,
the way you toss your head as you turn to walk away.

XOXO
silhouettekiss

umbrella

P.S. It is so cold in Tokyo my lips are blue
Why on earth didn’t I bring an extra coat…

take me away

takeme

Let me know in low whispers
if it’s alright for me to follow
you, utterly devoid of faith,
just so you may lead me
away
El retrato de Dorian Gray.
A place it’s fine to holler
all which is fighting to be said.
Ad infinitum;
no limits to retreat
no reasons not to stay.

P.S Why does this all rhyme with Christian Grey?
Too easy to lump it all to one ending vowel.
Stop.

had my heart aglow

repetal

Memories aren’t created to be tossed aside or fed to the wind.
Most unfortunately whoever created Man didn’t engineer our brains to work as per a shredder does –
feed it in, tear it apart,
then proceed to expel the remnants.

Letting go takes tremendous practice –
a dab of ignorance, a handful of shrugs,
closed eyes, uncountable sighs
and a whole lot of pretense.
Until it doesn’t hurt to think of it anymore.

Till then, perhaps I’ll simply look away.

xoxo
silhouettekiss
 

HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEAR, lovelies.

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