He was an artist. She was his muse.
To everyone in town, Abel Adams was the devil's spawn, a boy who never should have been born. A monster.
To twelve year-old Evie Hart, he was just a boy with golden hair, soft t-shirts and a camera. A boy who loved taking her picture and sneaking her chocolates before dinner. A boy who made her feel special.
Despite her family's warnings, she loved him in secret for six years. They met in empty classrooms and kissed in darkened church closets. Until they couldn't.
Until the time came to choose between love and family, and Evie chose Abel.
Because their love was worth the risk. Their love was the stuff of legend.
But the thing about legends is that they are cautionary tales. They are made of choices and mistakes. And for Abel and Evie, the artist and the muse, those mistakes come in the form of lights, camera, sex.
NOTE: This is NOT a paranormal or a priest romance.
You know it's a been a fanflippingtastic read when it takes me this long to conjure words.
Where do I start? Usually, I go with hilarity and bump it up to obsessed? That cool? Yeah...okay.
When Saffron posted about this book last year, I knew, like abso-fucking-lutely knew I'd be reading this faster than I wanted to.
Like, you know when you have some delicious, mouth-orgasm-inducing ice cream, and you want to savor each bite and lick it as slow as possible. Try not to get as pervy of a visual that I'm giving you. HAHAHA.
Well, you cherish that ice cream, (yeah, I'm a food obsessed person, sue me.) and that wasn't the case here. I legit started slow, like think of rereading the same page in history class over and over because you're cramming for a test. That was me, except it didn't last long. I kept reading, kept absorbing it all, and then like Evie with her fucking Toblerone addiction, I swallowed their story whole, without a second thought.
Yeah, I'm a glutton, in more ways than one. So, now that I told you how slow of love I made with this story (so, not intentionally being creepy, it just happens.)
Evie is by far my favorite character of Saffron's. For one, she loves chocolate, she's already a winner in my book. Two, she's not afraid of pissing others off, while being afraid at the same time. It's like when you're younger, you can be like everyone around you, or you can be your own person. Evie is her own person, and she's fucking epic, like their love.
This is my favorite inner musing of hers.
I don't think that monsters are all bad or evil, actually. I think what they have is a story and I like stories more than I like anything else in the world.
What kind of person has such beauty in such a rough world? An excellent one with a soul of a thousand. That's what kind of person she is.
Then we got Abel. Fuck, yeah we do. Abel Adams is everything good and bad in the world. Not bad, per se, but he's damaged like any person shunned from the world.
He's that bad boy type we all not-so-secretly crave. He's someone you want to fix and make pure in some form. To have him love you above all else. To want what you have to offer, and double that love, dedication, and need by at least ten.
When you don't believe in a forever and irrevocable kind of love, Abel makes you believe. Abel is God, Abel is life, and now I'm talking like some sort of obsessed-crazed-bitch.
"I want you, Pixie. I want you in my life and if I have to sell everything I own, even my own soul, I'll do it. My mom used to say people with no souls are monsters. I don't mind being one if I get to keep you. And I'm keeping you, Evie."
"I'm fucking keeping you. Even God can't snatch you away from me."
Like holy-mother-fucking-yes. Get you an Abel Adams, and hold onto him for dear life.
This is me, yet, also Evie. That lucky bitch.
Loving Abel Adams might be the purest and truest thing I'll ever do.
That's right, bitches. I'm loving Abel with Evie, I'd even give up tacos for him. That's true fucking love.
Just read the book, then you'll see. You'll become obsessed and enamored quickly, but don't let that fool you. You'll be holy-shit-tacos-batman crazed over their epic love, and then you'll be like, "Yeah, that bitch Cassie told me so." Then drink some booze for me, because I support that kind of crazy shit.
Bravo, Saffron. Bra-fucking-o.
Just follow the link to have a chance to win one of TEN copies --> bit.ly/bookbitches