Read with: iBooks for iPad
Genre: New Adult
Series: New York Leopards, #3
Publisher: Carina Press
Hero: Abraham Krasner
Heroine: Tamar Rosenfeld
Date of Publication: April 14, 2014
Started On: October 31, 2014
Finished On: November 2, 2014
I fell in love with Abraham Kramer when I was twelve years old.
Tamar Rosenfeld had fallen in love with Abraham Krasner when she’d been just twelve years old. Growing up with him had only intensified the feelings and at the age of 19, Tamar decides to put her heart on the line and confess of her undying love to the man himself. The rejection of her love, the answer that Abraham only sees her as a little sister gives Tamar the jolt that she needs to cut ties and heal her broken heart and get over her injured pride. Until four years later, she moves to New York as a sports reporter.
New York is where Abraham lives, his career as a New York Leopards linebacker ensuring that. When Tamar comes to New York, Abraham is determined that he get to spend as much time as possible with her as their schedules would allow. And the more time Tamar spends with Abraham, the more she goes onto realize that she had been kidding where her heart had been concerned, where she had convinced herself that she was so over Abraham. And Abraham certainly doesn’t make it easy for Tamar to move on; he pursues her with a relentlessness that Tamar finds she can only resist so much before giving in.
Imaginary Lines is a story told in first person in the heroine’s point of view. Being the third book in the New York Leopards series and having never read the two books published before this one, I would say that the fact I wasn’t left with a question mark in my head where the secondary characters were concerned is a pretty good signal that this book can definitely be read as a standalone.
Imaginary Lines proved to be a novel experience for me in my journey as a reader of romance. Tamar and Abraham are both Jewish coming from big Jewish families. I’ve never read about a Jewish couple, about their customs and food of choice for celebrations and such and thus it was an interesting exploratory journey of sorts for me. Many a time I used the search the web function on my iBooks to find out what a delicacy mentioned in the story looked like, which holiday were they talking about etc. I even managed to read a bit on Judaism on the religion section of BBC, something I’ve been meaning to do for quite sometime. So all in all, Imaginary Lines turned out to be quite the informative journey for me.
I loved the subtle hint of humor interwoven into the story. There is a sense of humor to Tamar that is hard to resist and if you can read a couple of chapters with a straight face, well you are a person in more control of your emotions than I would ever be. Tamar and Abraham, both turned out to be equally likable characters who are strong, so much in love with each other and yet true to who they are individually. I loved Tamar for having the guts to stand up for what she believed in, facing all that crap because she dared rattle around what pretty much everyone else had thought an area of football that she should have just left alone. Abraham turned out to be the sweetest guy! I sort of expected him to get pissed off and storm off, but he proved me 100% wrong by sticking with his woman and standing by her side even through the most difficult of time. That in essence is what true love is all about.
Being a story told in first person, which is something I don’t like for obvious reasons, yet somehow I get roped into reading books featuring just that, it wasn’t easy to garner Abraham’s emotions, something I felt the lack of. I wanted to see Abraham’s reactions, read deep into his mind, see his thoughts and the way he viewed the shared past of his and Tamar’s childhood. I think the novel would have provided a more wholesome experience to Abraham’s character if the author had integrated his point of view into the story as well. That being said, Tamar seemed to see into who Abraham truly is, seeing beyond the facade that Abraham puts up with the rest of the world giving Abraham a true sense of homecoming after four long years of separation.
Though the story seemed to lose focus on Abraham and Tamar during the first half of the story, it definitely picked up the rest of the way and gave an enjoyable read that is recommended for fans of sports romances. Abraham and Tamar would definitely end up being a favorite.
Final Verdict: Childhood friends to lovers; not your usual run of the mill story!
He groaned and leaned back. The lamplights silhouetted him perfectly, light and dark. Dreams made real. When he looked back, he cupped my face in his hands. “I’ve been resisting doing this for years.”
I just stared. I was melting. I was hot clay under the summer’s sun.
He let out a soft sound of desire. The air between us simmered with need, and my whole body yearned toward him. I could barely think, couldn’t blink. Small breaths slipped in and out of me like the hopeful flutterings of a hummingbird and then his lips were on mine.
The air shimmered between us. With each breath I took, I could feel my body pushing against his, my breasts full and aching as they strained against the fabric of my shirt. My hands smoothed down over his biceps, smooth as carved marble under my fingers, living marble. His hands ran down over my body, coming to rest in the small of my back, holding me tight against him. I ached for those hands to keep moving, to keep roaming. My breath hitched but our locked gazes never faltered.
He pulled me down and kissed me.
When the door snapped closed I turned, heart in my eyes, hot and wild as the man striding across the room toward me. He pushed me up against the wall, and we were kissing, tangled in each other, his tongue parting my lips with exquisite skill until I was moaning under his ministrations. There was nothing anymore, just him and me, the sensation of tongues and lips and sliding hands. His hand pushed my dress up around my hip and curved down around my ass. It slid up to the inside of my leg, and toyed with the thin cloth.
And then he lost control, wild now, plunging and plummeting, so quickly that we were both ablaze. There was no control anymore, no anything, just the fierce dance of our bodies, the beat, the rhythm, the everything, and I wanted more and more and I was blind except for him, it had always been him, and it would always be him—
He let out a great shout, a great noise that ripped from his throat. And then I felt the crystalline desire break me apart, a shattering of tension, bringing a great, crashing wave of pleasure and relief that lost the world to me. There was no world. Only the forever of the night and the brightness of the moon, carrying me on a dizzying rush through the stars. I was awash in desire and joy and happiness, aware of only one thing.
He withdrew and then slid back in, slow at first, and then increasing in speed and force. It drove me mad with desire, and I rocked against him, helpless and wanton, meeting each thrust with my own, until I was wild with want and empty of thought. We were hot and fast, light lightning, a storm after a dry spell. We were the roaring ocean, the brightness of the moon, the inexplorable tide that tied them together. I let out a cry and clung to him, and he to me, and we were lost together.
Lost and found.