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352 pages, Hardcover
First published February 1, 2012
That pain moves when you move; it mutters between every breath; it spikes your ears; it rips. You think pain can’t be any more horrible than that.
Until you discover that the well is bottomless. There’s always more
I don't want to tell this story and you know why? Because this is a fairy tale with teeth and claws.
"Jenna, please. Please, look at me."
I did - and that's when I realized that eyes really are the window to the soul.
"Don't go," he whispered.
"Jenna," he said, and he put everything into that one word. He put in a lifetime.
And no one asked questions. No one gave us a second thought. Everyone looked, and no one really saw.
“Please love me, Jenna, please hold me, please save me,” and then he was groaning; his mouth was a fever trailing down my neck, his tongue teasing mine and then my breasts, his hands knotting in my hair, and then we began to move together, and there was nothing but this and this and this and this and him.
“Love me, Jenna, please,” he gasped. “Love me, love me, love me, love me.”
”But the this is the truth: I’m a Liar. I am lucky, a liar, a good girl, a princess, a thief- and a killer. And my reality- my story- begins with Mr. Anderson.”He seems to be the only one that truly understands her; hell, at times, he seems to be the only one that cares. But they soon get themselves caught in a web of deception so deep Jenna may not be sure she can crawl out of it.
”He was beautiful like something out of a dream. He was a demigod, and I was well... awed. Like someone this perfect couldn’t be.”Cause let’s face it; if you’re going to write about a student/teacher affair, they can’t be ugly, amiright?
”I was transformed. I was a woman. I was loved and I loved someone in return. This kind of obsession was delicious and wonderful, and I never wanted it to end.”
Mi chiedo quanto forte debba premere per far uscire il sangue. Non forte, decisi.
Qualche secondo, questo è tutto ciò di cui ho bisogno.
Altri giorni non entrava, ma guardava verso la mia finestra mentre attraversava il parcheggio e sollevava una mano. Le finestre erano oscurate, quindi non so se mi vedeva salutarlo di rimando. Ma sapeva dov'ero, Bob, lui lo sapeva.
Scrutai la porta del bagno.
Avrei potuto. Sarebbe stato così semplice. Una rapida rotazione del polso. Una lieve pressione. Avrei potuto farlo. Così lo feci. Per la prima volta dopo mesi, Bob... chiusi a chiave la porta.
«Perché questo è il nostro ultimo giorno e non voglio sprecarlo. Avrò un mucchio di tempo per dormire, quando non sarò con te. Avrò il resto della vita».
«Non andare» sussurrò ancora. «Non voglio che tu te ne vada. Ti prego».
«Questo è quello che solo tu riesci a farmi» disse, a denti stretti, attirandomi più vicino. «Tu sei la sola, Jenna, la sola».
«Tutto ciò che vedo sei tu».
«Ti prego, amami, Jenna. Ti prego, stringimi. Ti prego, salvami», e poi stava grugnendo; la sua bocca era una febbre che scendeva lungo il mio collo, la lingua che stuzzicava prima la mia e poi i miei seni, le sue mani che mi tiravano i capelli, e poi cominciammo a muoverci insieme, e non ci fu nient'altro che questo e questo e questo e questo e lui. «Amami, Jenna, ti prego» ansimò. «Amami, amami, amami, amami».
«Lo chiamano istinto di annegamento. E' quando non sembra che tu stia annegando».
But this is the truth: I’m a liar.
I am lucky, a liar, a good girl, a princess, a thief—and a killer.
"It's the torture of not knowing that fuels a romance and that kind of pain is sweet, so sweet."
—Drowning Instinct, Page 178
I definitely recommend this book to anyone who can handle an intense, disturbing book. I literally read Drowning Instinct in one sitting, and I nearly pitched a raging fit when my reading was interrupted during the climax of the book. Overall, this is a brilliant read that will leave you thinking and questioning. It will laugh at all the normality in your life and poke and prod at your weaknesses.
There's blood-pain, there's knife-pain. There's bang-your-funny-bone-pain.["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>
And then there is the pain of fire, molten and alive: the swirl of flames streaming over rotten wood and naked flesh. That pain moves when you move; it mutters between every breath; it spikes your ears; it rips. You think pain can't be any more horrible than that.
Until you discover that the well is bottomless. There's always more. A different kind of pain, maybe, but more and much, much worse.
—Drowning Instinct, Page 8
๏ MY RATING ๏ ☆2.8☆STARS - GRADE=C-