Still, I keep asking myself - do I know him? Did he know her, the journal writer, and where is she? And why doesn’t it seem to matter anymore? There is just him and me, and the burn for more.In the bestselling style of Fifty Shades of Grey, Lisa Renee Jones delivers sexy thrills and heart-pounding sensuality with a tantalizing page-turner in which the eyes of a high school English teacher are opened to a world she never knew existed, and she finds a passionate craving within that she never knew she possessed. I need him.Īll I know for certain is that he knows me like I don’t even know me, and he says I know him. He is damaged beneath his confident good looks and need for control, and in some way, I feel he needs me. Chris is dark, and so are his desires, but I cannot turn away. I don’t understand why his dark side appeals to me, but the attraction between us is rich with velvety promises of satisfaction. He is rich and famous, and dark in ways I shouldn’t find intriguing, but I do. That man is the ruggedly sexy artist, Chris Merit, who wants to paint me.

But there is one man that will call to me, that will awaken me in ways I never believed possible. Now, I am working at a prestigious gallery, where I have always dreamed of being, and I’ve been delivered to the doorstep of several men, all of which I envision as one I’ve read about in the journal. I had to find her and be sure she was okay.īefore long, I was taking her job for the summer at the art gallery, living her life, and she was nowhere to be found. I read onward until the last terrifying dark entry left me certain that something had happened to this woman. I read on obsessively, living out fantasies through her words that I’d never dare experience on my own, compelled by the three men in her life, none of whom had names. Why had she let these items so neatly packed, possessions that she clearly cared about deeply, be lost at an auction? Driven to find out by some unnamed force, I began to dig, to discover this woman’s life, and yes, read her journals-dark, erotic journals that I had no business reading. Soon, I was standing inside a small room that held the intimate details of another woman’s life, feeling uncomfortable, as if I was invading her privacy.

Now she was on her way to the airport to elope with a man she barely knew, and she needed me to clear out the unit before the lease expired. She’d bought it to make extra money after watching some storage auction show. It all began when my neighbor thrust a key to a storage unit at me.

Later, I’d question that, as I would question pretty much everything I knew about me, my relationships, and my desires.

One day I was a high school teacher on summer break, leading a relatively uneventful but happy life.

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