Tryst Six Venom

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Let's start with the brothers. THE JAEGAR BROTHERS NEED THEIR OWN SPIN OFFS. I swear to God 😫 Macon and Dallas and Iron and Army and Trace!! I feel like it'll be obvious that my favorite brother is Macon. His perseverance, his dedication to his family, his love despite not being able to verbally express it, but nonetheless showing it in other ways. There's always something about a character sacrificing their entire life to care for their family that gets to me. And I don't know if it's the brotherhood dynamic or the fact that it's just the siblings left to fend for themselves and he's in charge, but Macon didn't start off as my favorite character and the way he develops and cares for his family NO MATTER WHAT really got to me so I need a book for him RIGHT NOW ✋🏼🥺 This book is 75% smut. Which, ok. But oh my god, some of those scenes were seriously cringe worthy. In which I (kinda) gush about Clay & Liv, but feeling all kinds of confused regarding my stan on FF...

She’s like every woman on his arm—the same hair, the same clothes, the same smile, because to beat she has to compete, right? Not that Clay has anything to share, anyway. Always in control, she owns the hallways, walking tall on Monday and then dropping to her knees like the good Catholic girl she is on Sunday. What she wants she has to hide. But Clay dives in, pressing her body flush with mine as she lays a hand on my cheek. “Stop crying,” she whispers, pressing her forehead to mine. “Please stop.”This book has created quite the polarized opinionated buzz in indielandia. My advice to those opposing it merely on the fact that it's FF romance- Stuff it and read. The arcs the characters take is completely full and both Liv and Clay are revealed more and more as the story progresses. Even if you start out hating Clay, she's basically a walking danger sign, because the story alternates between Clay and Liv's point of views, and the author wrote her character so well, I couldn't help but love her. At least not until I get her alone and find out she's hiding so much more than just what's underneath those pretty clothes.

In the bathroom stall between classes. In the showers after practice. 𝑀𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑠𝑤𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑀𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑢𝑝 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑟𝑡.I swipe my water bottle out from underneath the papier-mâché clown fish and take a swig, the burn already intoxicating as it courses down my throat. Just the taste eases my nerves. I can’t leave you alone,” she whispers. “Sometimes my feelings for you are good and sometimes they’re bad,” she tells me, “but they’re always strong Liv. Like no one else.”