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Broken, by Megan Hart

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This month my name is Mary. My name is different every month—Brandy, Honey, Amy…sometimes Joe doesn’t even bother to ask—but he never fails to arouse me with his body, his mouth, his touch, no matter what I’m called or where he picks me up. The sex is always amazing, always leaves me itching for more in those long weeks until I see him again.
My real name is Sadie, and once a month over lunch Joe tells me about his latest conquest. But what Joe doesn’t know is that, in my mind, I’m the star of every X-rated one-night stand he has revealed to me, or that I’m practically obsessed with our imaginary sex life. I know it’s wrong. I know my husband wouldn’t understand. But I can’t stop. Not yet.

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I can’t believe how amazing this book is.

“I’m a bad boy,” that smile says.”But I’m so good you won’t care.”

I recently read my first Megan Hart book and was so happy with it that I decided to take a look at her other work. Turns out, I already had some of her books in my TBR list.
Broken was one of them and it caught my eye. I re-read the synopsis, and was once again intrigued but such a revealing and yet mysterious description.

“Losing my virginity hadn’t made me a woman, but almost losing my husband had. He could have died.
There are days I weep with gratitude he didn’t.
And then, there are days I wish he had.”

When I looked at the comments on the book from some people I know from Goodreads, I have to say, I was a little scared to give it a change. I found words such as “heartbreaking”, “emotional roller-coaster” and “ugly crying” and even though I trust some of the people there with their recommendations, I’m always a little worried to go into a book knowing my emotions will be tested. So I looked for another book to read. I know, I’m ashamed too.

“Joe, in his words, loved women. Their curves, their scents, their moods. He loved long hair, big asses, sturdy thighs, concave bellies, tiny, cherry-tipped tits, blue and green and brown eyes. He loved women and he loved fucking. And every first Friday of the month, when we met for lunch, he had a new story to tell me. He was Scheherazade, saving not his own life, but mine.”

But Broken was one of those books that sort of whisper in your ear to come and read them. Ever felt like it? It’s very strange but at the same time you know it’s your gut talking. So after one-clicking several other books in hope that one would catch my interest (denial is very bad for my credit card) I decided it was time I put my big girl panties on and started reading Broken. And it simply blew my mind.

“I loved my husband but wanted to fuck another man. I wanted it so much it tore me apart and knitted me together over and over. I lived for the stories Joe told that let me imagine myself as the women he took to bed. I called him names, but I was wrong. It wasn’t Joe, it was me. I was the cheater.”

It did it subtly, without me knowing until I turned the last page of the book. This book made me feel like not every book can. I got sucked in by Sadie’s story, her voice, her struggles, her joy, her guilt, and anger and her desires.

“Just because Joe and I never touched didn’t mean we weren’t having an affair.”

I rooted for her and for Joe and for Adam (her husband) too. I struggled with my feelings toward the two men in her life. I was awed by how strong she was. One minute I wanted her to go to Joe and the next I wanted for things to get better with her husband. I actually felt guilty for wanting her to cave in and go to another man.

“Right and wrong, good and bad, the lines are blurred when it comes to matters of the heart. Anyone who has never felt that has no right to judge, and anyone who ever has won’t have to.”

My feelings were all over the place while reading. Sometimes, I felt like Joe was the answer to Sadie’s problems and sometimes I was so angry and hurt by Joe and what he did and what he told Sadie in his stories. At some point, I actually felt like maybe, the fact that Sadie might never know what it’s like to be with Joe for real, not only through all the stories he tells her, was maybe a good thing after all. To be honest, I think there were times I didn’t know what I wanted from this book, how I wanted it to end and Megan Hart did a great job with the ending for this story because even though I wasn’t expecting it to end like this, I was very happy with the way it went.

“But sometimes it’s the sunshine that frightens us more than the big black shadows.” 

This book will test you. It certainly tested me, forced me to ask myself questions, and not the easiest ones either. It is a smut romance. Joe’s stories make sure of that. But even though his stories are titillating and seriously hot, they are also full of insight and even vulnerability.

“Sometimes,” Joe said after a bit, “it’s just easier to keep being what everyone expects you to be. Even if that’s what you’re not, anymore.” 

His stories made me feel a lot of things along with Sadie. I was aroused, I was angry, I was sad and I was jealous as well. And just like Sadie, I became addicted to them. I was looking forward for this one story shared over lunch on a bench with a stranger that wasn’t really a stranger anymore because he had become so much more.

“I know everything and nothing about him all at the same time.”

I can’t tell you enough to read this book. Even though once I finished my first book by her I thought Megan Hart had done a great job and had potential, after reading Broken, I know for sure that she is one of the most talented authors I’ve ever read.

“I think Joe’s fucked a lot of women, maybe even made love to a few of them. But from the way he’s reacting to this it doesn’t seem he’s had many do the same for him.”

Broken might not be for you because it deals with a lot of complicated subjects. But if like me you like books that are not easy, that make you take a good hard look at your priorities, that are thought-provoking and won’t spare your feelings, then I think you should take a chance on Broken. It’s a story that I’ll keep close to my heart for a very long time.

“From the first time you laughed with me, all those months, and all those stories,” Joe said quietly. “They
were all you, to me. All of them were you.”

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