If I Were You book. Read reviews from the world's largest community for readers. How it all started One day I was a high school teacher on summer. If I Were You book. Read 59 reviews from the world's largest community for readers. Just in time for summer, a body switch story in the vein of Freaky Fr. Editorial Reviews. Review. READING ORDER - MUST BE READ IN ORDER! Book 1 - IF I WERE YOU. Book 2- BEING ME. Book 3 - REVEALING US. Book .
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Read If I Were You (Inside Out #1) online free from your iPhone, iPad, android, Pc, Mobile. If I Were You is a Romance novel by Lisa Renee Jones. No In Between Book 4. My Control Book I Belong to You Book 5 .. IF I WERE YOU made my pulse pound, my insides clench, and left me. If I Were You (Inside Out Trilogy) Of course, you can imagine I was really excited to get to this book considering the “Fifty Shades” was hinted at.
I still loved this one though. It had everything! I wholeheartedly agree.
I agree with Ana, I think the next book will help with the more. I read this in one sitting, and like you Maryse got to almost there.
I want to also be drowning in the story and I was really on the cusp. I am so worried about Sara, and I actually found that a bit of a distraction. Everyone is a suspect! I read the last page and kicked myself for reading this book with the second installment not in sight. It was really good, and I am anxious for the next one. Yes i agree, read it and was totally into Chris Merit. The ending of this book left me on the edge with suspense. This book left me with so many questions.
I honestly hated the way it ended. I dont mind a cliffhanger into the next book but i felt like the author just picked a page and ended book 1.
Other than that I really enjoyed the read. I completely agree and I dont trust ANY of the characters. I questioned who was honest with every conversation. Looking forward to seeing how things turn out. Oh wow was on the edge of my seat the whole time I was reading it…..
I need answers….. I was just getting really into it, wanting to see where it was going. The characters seem more real to me then 50 Shades of Grey. Any idea when the next book is due out. Loved the story and suspense. Just ended too ubruptly. Looking forward to next book for answers.
I loved this book. So I did some research on her website and was surprised to find this will really be a middle book of a much bigger series! Rebeccas lost journals: My master April Rebeccas lost journals: Keep reading it, you are going to love it. Yes, Lauren it is part of a much bigger series. So that played in role in the delay of publication as well. Hope you guys enjoy this series…I love it!!
Loved all the books! At first I suspected Everyman that walked in the gallery! Stupid man did not see what was right in front of him! A friend turned me on to the series and I did it right! Read the journal book first, than read the first two books than went back and read the last of the journal book than read Reavling Us!! Saw on itunes there are more books and oh yes I will get them!
Thinking back, I believe it did. He tossed it on the bed, a dare, and instantly a shiver chased a path up and down my spine.
The idea of not being able to see what was happening to me should have aroused me—it did arouse me. I was scared and I hesitated. This did not please him.
He told me so, in that deep, rich, baritone voice that makes me quiver uncontrollably. The need to please him had been so compelling. I put on the blindfold. I was rewarded by the shift of the mattress. He was coming to me. Soon, I knew I would come, too.
His hands slid possessively up my calves, over my thighs. And damn him, stopped just before my place of need. What came next was a shadowy whirlwind of sensation.
He pulled me onto my back, flat against the mattress. I knew satisfaction was seconds away. Soon he would enter me. Soon I would have what I needed. But to my distress, he moved away. It jolted me to a sitting position, and I called out his name, fearful he was leaving.
Then relieved when his hand flattened on my stomach. I must have. It was a thought easily forgotten when he settled heavy between my thighs, his strong hands lifting my arms over my head, his breath warm on my neck—his body heavy, perfect. Somehow, a silk tie wrapped around my wrists and my arms were tied to the bed frame. It never occurred to me that he could not have done this on his own. That he was on top of me, unable to manipulate my arms. But then, he was manipulating my body, my mind, and I was his willing victim.
He lifted his body from mine, and I whimpered, unable to reach for him.
Again silence. And the whisk of fabric. More strange sounds. Long seconds ticked by, and I remember the chill that snaked across my skin. The feeling of dread that had balled in my stomach. And then, the moment I know I will die remembering. The moment when the steel of a blade touched my lips. The moment that he promised there was pleasure in pain. The moment when the blade traveled along my skin with the proof he would be true to his words. And I knew then that I had been wrong.
He was not dangerous. Nor was he chocolate. Guiltily, I slam it shut and set it back on the simple oak coffee table where it had been left by my neighbor and close friend, Ella Ferguson the night before. It was just…there. On my table. It makes no sense. Good Lord, I feel like Ella seemed to feel when living out the scene in the journal-—like I am the one hanging on for one more titillating moment and then another.
Clearly, twenty-eight-year-old women are not supposed to go eighteen months without sex. Another knock sounds and I concede that, nope, my visitor is not going away. Inwardly, I shake myself and tug at the hem of the simple light blue dress I still wore from my final day of tenth-grade summer English classes.
Thankfully, it also cools my feverishly hot skin. What is wrong with me? How has a journal affected me this intensely? Without awaiting an invitation, Ella rushes past me in a whiff of vanilla-scented perfume and red bouncing curls.
What makes me, even now, want to read more. Together we are the family neither of us have, or rather, neither of us wish to claim. Uncomfortably, I ramble onward, a bad habit brought out by nerves, and guilt, apparently. Lucky you got to avoid that this year, though I had some great kids I enjoyed. I wanted to read you a few of the entries. But then David called, and you know how that went.
What David wanted from Ella, he got. Now, I know just how true that is. I study Ella a moment. With her dewy youthful skin, dressed in faded jeans and a purple tee, she looks like one of my students rather than a twenty-five year old teacher herself. David is going to love this. This thing is scorching hot. I told you last night. You should really consider going to the next auction with me. It has artwork I know is going to sell for big bucks.