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Coming  June 16th

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When we were ten, he treated me like a friend.
When we were eighteen, he wanted nothing to do with me.
And now that we are twenty-four, he longs to claim every single inch of me.

He was wild—untamed.
And I, a reckless girl, who loved too hard.
But, what we had was special.
I was his serenity and he my protector.

Drake was consumed by my love…
but he also took advantage of it…
He’d broken my heart—left me hanging for years.
He ruined us.

And, now, he’s back.
He wants me.
And I want to hate him, I really do.

But, who am I kidding?
No one can deny Drake Davenport.
You can’t hide from the almighty DOOMSDAY.

Because he is a fighter.
And, just like me, he loves hard.
He never loses and he will fight as hard is he can if it means winning me back.

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I rushed for my car, unlocking it with the key fob on the way. Before I could pull the door handle and get inside, I heard the crunching of gravel and then a hand came down on the window, slamming my door closed.
I gasped as the same hand wrapped round my arm and squeezed it with slight pressure. He whirled me around and pressed my back against the cold door.
Bold green eyes focused on mine, pink lips so close I felt my belly swirling with heat. His hands went outside my head, pressing on the car.
He smelled good, so good, sweet pine, sweet earth. His jaw was locked, hair on his forehead, breathing deeply through his nostrils.
“I’m trying to fucking save you from me, Jenny.”
“I don’t need you to save me from you.” My breathing accelerated with his.
“Why the hell do you need to be friends with a guy like me anyway?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t have to. I just… want to.”
Sighing, he brought one hand down, roughly running it over his face. He was aggravated with me, frustrated, but like me, he couldn’t let go. He hated being away.
“What is it that you want, huh?” he bit through clenched teeth. “What is it, Jenny? You want me to talk sweet to you? Is that it? You want me to tell you some bullshit about how I’m actually a good guy deep down, how I secretly wish to be with you too, but my life won’t allow it—our lives, wont allow it?”
His questions were rhetorical, but they spoke to me. There was truth behind them. He was opening up and he didn’t even realize it.
Suddenly, his face straightened, and he moved in closer, pressing his crotch into my belly. I stilled when his hands came to my face and he clasped it, keeping my eyes on his.
Breath shallow, I watched as his eyes narrowed. He studied me like a piece of artwork, like I was some intricate masterpiece that no one could figure out. The kind of masterpiece that is too beautiful to replicate—too unique to pass by without a thorough glance.
That same torment and confliction from the previous week ran deep in his eyes again. He hated this, but liked it just a tad bit more.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck, Jenny.”
“What?” I finally spoke, my voice hardly a whisper.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it? All of that shit I just said is exactly what you want.” He shook his head with a small huff. He still had my face in his large, rough hands. “    
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books you read and you have no idea how you should review them because they did
nothing for you
books you read and your mind is spinning on all the stuff that you want to tell
other readers about them. 
then there are those books that you basically do not WANT to say anything about
because no matter how little you tell it will still feel like you are stealing
something of the feeling they evoked in you by voicing out loud anything about
Love by Shanora Williams is one of the books that belongs in the last category.
It was a great read – well developed from beginning to end. It’s characters so
fully developed that you thought you might be able to actually touch them if
you only tried hard enough. 
there are some clichés drifting along the storyline – but I did not mind them
too much. They just underlined the plot and did not take over so they felt
justified. If I had just one word to describe the leading characters I would
combine both words to a “perfectly imperfect” which describes them both in the
best way. 
love will defenetivly need more than one chance and if you ask me for a
comparison to another book – the first book that comes to my mind would defenetivly
be “Real” by Katy Evans. So let me say out loud a chliche of my own the typical
comparison “If you loved “Real” I am pretty sure you will also love “Doomsday
facing some editing and timeline issues I asked the Author if the version we
received for review was a final one. She told me it was an uncorrected version
so my rating will not in any way involve those editing issues. I trust that
they will be gone by the time the book is released (and honestly even if they
are not gone – it will not disturb your reading – because I doubt most readers
will have the same timeline/detail OCD that I have)
don’t say this very often maybe like only once or twice a month – which is not
very often if you consider that I read like sometimes almost a book a day …-
but I think I could fall for a guy like Drake. 
if you like MMA fighter romances this is your book.
If you
like guys from the wrong side of the tracks this is your book.
know ARC’s are subject to changes – but I doubt that this line would ever be
erased – but even IF … I still feel the need to close my thoughts with this
quote – because there is not better way to describe this book 
may be a beast, but his heart is like a butterfly.
gentle. It’s kind.
beautiful, but it is also wild.”
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Shanora Williams is a twenty-something that creates authentic romantic stories that, may or may not, make you question what a “Happily Ever After” truly is. After hitting the New York Times and USA Today bestsellers list at the mere age of nineteen, Shanora ventured further into the creative writing world, working even harder to create unique and memorable romances for all to enjoy.
She currently resides in Waxhaw, North Carolina and is the mother of one amazing boy, in love with her devoted man, and a sister to eleven.
When she isn’t writing, she’s spending time with her family, binge reading, or running marathons on Netflix while scarfing down anything sweet and salty. She also writes under the pen name S. Q. Williams.
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