Read with: iBooks for iPad
Genre: New Adult Romance
Series: Extreme Risk, #1
Publisher: Random House Publishing
Hero: Z Michaels
Heroine: Ophelia Richardson
Date of Publication: February 4, 2014
Started On: February 2, 2014
Finished On: February 5, 2014
Shredded by Tracy Wolff features the too sexy for his own good, 21 year old professional snowboarder Z Michaels who makes you take a double take from the moment he makes his entrance into the story. With a body worth drooling over and then some, tattoos and piercing to show for the bad boy that he is, it is Z’s tortured soul that gets to you as the story proceeds.
Ophelia Richardson has had enough of men who survive on the rush of adrenaline and danger and living for the next high. She has the scars on her body and her heart as a testament to the fact, something that she keeps reminding herself of and often when Z makes his interest in her known. Knowing that Z sleeps his way through girls and discards them like yesterday’s news doesn’t make it any easier for Ophelia to resist his charms, nor does it make her blind to the heartbreakingly vulnerable Z that lies beneath all that attitude and bluster.
Z might think that Ophelia is just another random girl that he would get out of his system once the deed is done, but from the first moment he lays eyes on her beautiful form, Z knows in his heart that Ophelia makes every single woman around him fade away to insignificance. And though both Z and Ophelia come with their own baggage and struggle every single day to move on from the shackles that bind, there is no denying the fact that these two damaged souls call to each other on a level that neither can begin to understand nor comprehend.
Ophelia is not at all ready for a repeat of her past and Z is not ready to face his past demons that drive him to take risks that he otherwise would not. And if Z and Ophelia are to make things work between them, each of them have their own demons to slay and put to rest without which the fiery love that takes a hold of them would crash and burn engulfing them both in the process.
Shredded has all the ingredients that should make a book explosive in your hands. However, I found that unlike the one erotic romance from Tracy Wolff that I read and absolutely loved, Shredded seemed to have a more subtle undertone to it that somehow prevented the story from making that impression it should have. I’m not saying that Shredded turned out to be a bad story, but rather I think it could have turned out better which would have definitely increased the overall impact of the story on the reader.
Z as a hero should have touched my heart from the beginning because lets face it, who doesn’t love a hot and tattooed bad boy hero who is not afraid to live up to his image? But I found myself a bit detached from the whole thing, up till towards the end which is only then when the true story behind Z comes to light. My heart practically leaped to my throat, the emotions that tumbled inside of me made me want to reach into the story and hug the little boy who must’ve been absolutely devastated by the turn of events in his life that had made him the way he is.
Ophelia on the other hand didn’t make that much of an impression on me, to be honest. I felt that her character tended to fade away into the background, though I did love her snazzy comebacks and the fire in her that made her the worthy other half of Z at the end of the story. The moment I fell in love with Ophelia was when she found the courage to go to Z and profess to stick with him no matter what; and I think that takes immense courage for someone who has been through what she had been. I think a point that is worthy of making is that the ending of the story was what sucker punched me and made me pull up its rating.
The one thing that made me happy was that Z and Ophelia got their happily ever after in this book; I was afraid that like most new adult romances featuring first person viewpoints from both characters, this too would turn into one of those trilogies where the hero and heroine continue to have second thoughts about each other or something or the other would keep them apart until the author had milked their story for what its worth; well lets just say I’m just glad that didn’t happen. And I am certainly curious enough to seek out the second book in the series which will be Ash’s story which comes out in April of this year.
Final Verdict: Ophelia and Z makes for a haunting combination, one that delivers a good story!
She doesn’t pull away, though, like I expect her to. She doesn’t slap my face, doesn’t stand up, doesn’t do any of the things I think she will. Instead she sits up and grinds herself, slowly, carefully, determinedly, over my cock. And embarrassing though it is, I swear I almost come at just that touch. Which is crazy, except—in my defense—the girl does one hell of a hip swivel.
This time, when her eyes meet mine, they’re big and mossy green and shimmering with tears. “I want to feel. Something, anything. I’ve spent so long trying to be numb that I think I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be anything but. Please.” She pulls at the blanket, drops kisses on my shoulders, my neck, my chest. Runs her tongue along the unstructured lines of my tattoo. “Please, Z. Make me feel something. Make me feel anything.”
Her lips open under mine like they were meant for me, her tongue stroking along my own as I explore the recesses of her mouth. She tastes so good, like caramel and coffee and sweet, sweet whipped cream. I nibble at her upper lip, suck it between mine. Laugh a little as she gasps and trembles against me. If I could, I’d stay here forever. Right here, at this moment, with my girl in my arms and the nightmares still and silent within me.
And then she’s coming, her slick heat clenching around me in a rhythm that strips away the last tiny bit of control I’ve got. I grab her hips, thrust into her once, twice. Then I’m coming, too, orgasm rolling over me like an avalanche, burying me in pleasure so intense it’s pain. Burying me in satisfaction. Burying me in love, until Ophelia is all I can see or feel or taste. Until she’s inside me as surely as I’m still inside her.