When you are looking for a book that is high in angst, where the emotion is sure to runneth over but the story drags you in and doesn’t relent – even making you think that you CANNOT possibly read another word – then you really need to check out M. Mabie. Knot is another shining example of a book that is so well written that I forgot that the characters and their actions were so against the grain of my typical reading. M Mabie’s writing is spellbinding and even though I know what I am in for, I am like an addict, never being able to turn her books away and coming back time and time again for more.
There is something to be said about a male character that is so perfectly flawed. And without a doubt this is the best way to describe Reggie. While he openly wears his heart and desire on his sleeve and lets it all hang out, it is the way that he is portrayed through his anxiety beneath the surface that made this entire book for me. The emotion that bubbled underneath was so real, that I literally felt myself get worked up with him at times throughout the book. He is that guy that was so convinced of an outcome, that he would continually hit his head against a brick wall to ensure that it became a reality. I cannot explain my connection with Reggie other than that it felt “real”.
I am not sure how Mo does it, but once again she has delivered a character that I absolutely despise but find myself wanting everything to work out for her. Nora is everything that rubs me up the wrong way. I felt that she was playing a game without any regard for the real emotions that were involved, even when they were her own, and that just generally pisses me off. Please, I know that in the beginning I was told the type of person and the type of relationships that she preferred, but when her actions then portrayed a different story to only then go cold again – I got pissed. And can anyone say stubbon to the point of being obtruse?!? BUT this is also one of the very reasons that I love M Mabie so VERY much.
As always, when these couples come together there is no denying the unexplainable, undeniable attraction that they have of one another. And although Nora and Reggie find themselves trying to deny their addiction to each other, it couldn’t help but combust. M Mabie sure knows how to heat up those pages with some steamy sex that leave readers satisfied.
I really can’t say anything other than I am utterly addicted to M Mabie’s writing. Even when I know I will get super annoyed I can’t deny her pull to me. Her ability to build the tension, angst and real emotion is spectacular and the very reason that she is an auto read for me. This is one author that I truly wish more readers would let her take them on a gut wrenching journey. You might hate me and M Mabie after reading her books, but there is no disputing that she delivers as a QUEEN OF ANGST.
About The Book
Author: M Mabie
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Heat Level: Explicit
Series: The Wake Family, Book 1
Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25384805-knot
Blurb: He knows everything.
She has all the damn answers.
I’ve always been a free spirit. It’s my nature.
I crave control, but with her it’s far more.
He’s a power hungry climber.
Her wealth could buy and sell me.
It’s too much pressure being the center of anyone’s focus.
She underestimates my desire for her, my need to please just her.
When he’s vulnerable, it’s hard to deny him.
Her crooked smile cripples me.
He hides his demons, but I’m no fool.
She thinks not committing to anyone makes her more honest. She’s wrong.
A man like him deserves someone who can offer that kind of love.
She promises nothing, yet I feel like a king when she says my name.
I never let anyone possess me like he did. Not before. Not after.
My greatest regret was compromising. I should have never held back.
Still, when we’re apart I’m not myself.
I miss the days when she was just down the hall.
He’s better off without me, and it hurts.
The ugly truth is I need her more than she needs me.
Our relationship was born out of lust and curiosity.
The lies we told ourselves killed it.
Together, we found Nirvana.
We learned it was all a mirage.
I ruined him.
I broke her heart.
I keep coming back.
I can’t let her go.
KNOT is a contemporary romance and a complete standalone. It is the first spin-off from the best-selling Wake Series. You do not need to read BAIT, SAIL, or ANCHOR to enjoy this book in its entirety, but if you love angst you’ll enjoy them, too.
REGGIE—Friday, June 11, 2010
Our fucked up history was Hell dressed up in heels and pearls, suits and cuff links, pretending to be Heaven. Had either of us known it really was Nirvana—and not the mirage we’d thought—maybe we could’ve stayed.
Our relationship was a dream I’d never wake up from. Sometimes it felt like a fantasy. Sometimes a nightmare. A mind fuck that had me ticking down numbers.
Fuck starting from ten.
Fuck ten a long time ago.
With her, I should have started at infinity. At least then I’d have more time. More minutes of torture. More seconds of bliss. At infinity, I would have had the time to prove her wrong. If I’d only known she was.
Nine times I let her go. Maybe more. Maybe less.
She never wanted what she said at all, and every time I fell under her spell, I proved her right. Every fucking time. Every mistake. Every misstep. Every time I held back from my instincts.
Still, with us, fault was universal.
We’d both failed each time. All eight or so times I’d denied myself by not telling her the truth, I hadn’t realized I’d denied her a thousand times more.
I only ever wanted her. Fuck money. Fuck power. Fuck my pride. Fuck all seven days of the week without her. Fuck other women and fuck the whole country of Switzerland.
Fuck knowing damn well in my gut the whole fucking time.
But while she was there in my arms, under my body, I’d settle for fucking her. She knew it was how we could’ve been.
Fuck her stubbornness. Fuck her fucking ability to stay away for six or the half-dozen months at a time while she chased her tail. I stood by and watched, all but cheering her on.
Fuck the sound of her voice when she laughs. Not any old laugh—fuck those, too—but specifically the special one. Her Reagan laugh. I wish I could mute my memories of her, but that laugh will haunt me forever.
That laugh belonged to only me, along with a handful of other fragments of her that I never took the time to piece together. If I had, she might have been whole. She might have been mine if I’d added them all up.
Ironically, I didn’t look for the sum of the real her. How many math classes did I need to learn this one damn woman? Certainly ones I hadn’t taken. Certainly ones I would have failed.
If I could go back to the beginning, I’d add more up than just how many times I could get any of my five fingers, my tongue, and cock into her. I’d add her only-for-Reagan parts. They’d been there all along.
They were enough.
Starting with the four or so seconds, where she didn’t even know her name—let alone mine—before she cried out in ecstasy. That wonder in her eye. The pull of the tendons in her gorgeous neck. The tightening of her brow. The slack of her jaw.
The way she looked handing me coffee, naked in the kitchen. Her wet hair matted and untamed. Her skin pink from the hot shower. The print the bathroom tile left fading on her shoulders.
The way she stretched her feet when she woke up in my sheets. Spreading them and wiggling the one we knew would always be our toe.
The way she could recite every ingredient in her favorite dishes. How she knew about cheese from other countries, even though she’d never visited most of them.
The way she kissed my Adam’s apple, then rubbed it with her thumb. Only to kiss it a second time.
Those were things meant only for me.
I’d add every time she called me, and I answered.
I’d subtract the times I didn’t because I was selfish and wanted her to show up instead.
Then I’d multiply that total by the times she told me she more-than-just-loved me. Which was exactly three. I hadn’t even realized what she meant the first time, but the second time, I was sure to make up for it. The third had been tonight.
We’d been two people lost. Wandering around, pretending we’d known everything.
Even though it was most likely the last time I’d ever fuck her, it would also—mercifully—be the last time we’d ever fight.
Sadly, it was the first time I’d seen the power my words had held over her the whole time. I’d watched her heart break. I’d watched as she crumpled to the floor and sobbed. I’d felt like I was doing the same.
It was too late for our hearts.
I’d surrendered, given up, and shot one precise, verbal bullet through my heart, then watched it pierce hers.
There was nothing left. I’d hit zero for the last time.
As I watched the tears fall from her eyes—after I pushed into her for the very last time, filling her with everything I’d never told her—misery infected my gut.
Then, I felt the knot constrict.
We’d tangled the delicate thread between us too many times.
It tightened to a point of throbbing pain. I knew there’d never be a minute left in my life where I didn’t feel the ache of her. Her absence, the source of blinding tension. The sharp pulse of a love ripped from me before I had a chance to watch it mature.
That was all that was left of me.
Zero and the knot.
Books In The Wake Series
About The Author
M. Mabie writes unconventional love stories and tries to embody “real-life romance.” Author of Fade In, the Wake series (Bait, Sail, and Anchor), and Roots and Wings, Mabie lives in Illinois with her husband.
She cares about politics, but will not discuss them in public. She uses the same fork at every meal, watches Wayne’s World while cleaning, and lets her dog sleep on her head. She has always been a writer. In fact, she was born with a pen in her hand, which almost never happens. Almost.
M. Mabie usually doesn’t speak in third-person. She promises.
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