Feyi is still reeling from the death of her husband five
years ago in a car accident. She has
since found it difficult to open herself up to another serious relationship,
but she does hook up with a guy at a party.
Limiting her ongoing involvement with him to sex only, she then meets
one of his friends, Nasir, who might have more long-term potential. She insists they take things slowly, but then
he offers her a chance to visit his father’s estate on a Caribbean island that
also includes a chance to show her paintings at a significant art show. All of this seems like a dream come true, but
when she meets Nasir’s celebrity chef father, Alim, she is instantly
smitten. This book is such a departure
from
Freshwater
and
The
Death of Vivek Oji. It’s a
moving and powerful love story, and I just devoured every word with
relish. The author keeps us on edge with
barely restrained passion that is bursting at the seams. Even though neither party is married, this
romance is complicated by a sticky family situation. On the one hand, this book feels like a
guilty pleasure, although I don’t know why I should feel guilty about reading
something so delicious, and I’m not just talking about all the scrumptious food
that Alim dishes up. And just because the male lead is filthy rich doesn’t mean
that the story can’t be about other types of struggles. Grief is the hardship that plagues both Feyi
and Alim, and I think that’s enough. Grief also binds them together, but every good
book needs some sort of conflict, and in this case it is the forbidden nature
of their relationship.
Thanks to Simon and Schuster for the advance
reading copy.
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