Review: Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L. James

Fifty Shades of Grey
By:  E.L. James

File Size: 2330 KB
Print Length: 529 pages
Publisher: Vintage (May 25, 2011)

About: When literature student Anastasia Steele goes to interview young entrepreneur Christian Grey, she encounters a man who is beautiful, brilliant, and intimidating. The unworldly, innocent Ana is startled to realize she wants this man and, despite his enigmatic reserve, finds she is desperate to get close to him. Unable to resist Ana’s quiet beauty, wit, and independent spirit, Grey admits he wants her, too—but on his own terms.

Shocked yet thrilled by Grey’s singular erotic tastes, Ana hesitates. For all the trappings of success—his multinational businesses, his vast wealth, his loving family—Grey is a man tormented by demons and consumed by the need to control. When the couple embarks on a daring, passionately physical affair, Ana discovers Christian Grey’s secrets and explores her own dark desires.

Erotic, amusing, and deeply moving, the Fifty Shades Trilogy is a tale that will obsess you, possess you, and stay with you forever.

My Review:  Multidimensional and thought-provoking, Fifty Shades of Grey is a story that will twist you, bend you and cry for you to submit to its intrigue.

Okay, normally I am not one to grab a book that is being "hyped up" in the media.  However, when Fifty Shades of Grey began to pop up everywhere, the nerd in me came bursting forth and Googled the title.  Yes, I Googled it.  What I found was a very varying and diverse thought spectrum - which is actually a good thing, in my opinion.  It seems that people either loved it or hated it.  Now, what really grabbed me was an article that I read where some psychologist or Dr. of some sort was saying how this book was considered "Mommy Porn" and that it was a very unhealthy thing for woman.  Um, excuse me?!  It is socially acceptable for men to look at and ogle women/porn online, in bars, in magazines, etc, but if a woman reads something that is even slightly touted as "erotic" it is unhealthy?!  Let's see - a woman reads and thereby uses her intelligence to  take in the words and has to use her creativity and imagination to bring these images, portrayed within the story, to life for herself and that is unhealthy?  How is this any worse than a person reading murder mysteries, horror stories and anything of violence?  Needless to say, this ticked me off.  I knew right then and there that I had to get the book and read it myself.  Now, to take a step back, people may say "How can it be acceptable to allow a man to tie you up, make you eat when he wants, etc?"  Well, it is not.  However, if there are two consenting adults and they get their kicks that way - well, let them go forth and dom/sub.  I do want to say, however, that these issues were blown waaaay out of proportion with this book.  There is no where near the type of dominance that some say is so horrible and demeaning to women (and for the record, there are books out there were the men are the submissive - it is fictional entertainment after all) within Fifty Shades of Grey.  Okay, on with the review of the actual book.

For me, Fifty Shades of Grey was a great look into the psyche of a man who grew up with a tortured start to life.  He learns to cope in life with strong walls and a hard shell built around himself.  He does not allow himself to become close to any one person and relationships with woman are something to enjoy physically and devoid of emotions.  So far within his life, he has been able to keep things going at this level.  That all changes, however, when he meets Anastasia (Ana).  For Christian, Ana is unlike any other woman he has ever met before.  She is not only beautiful and intelligence, she is innocence and strength.  Ana does not bend over backwards for Christian and she knows her own mind and morals.  I want to mention that this is something that pleasantly surprised me.  When I first read about this book, I had pictured Ana as a very submissive person who would be, more or less, a puppet on a string.  I was not thrilled with this idea, however I pushed it aside as I began to read.  Ana is not at all like my preconceived notions.  Nor, for that matter, was Christian the jerk, dominant "I am man, do as I say" type of character that I had thought he would be.

I fully believe that the reader will get out of Fifty Shades of Grey what they put into it.  I have heard, repeatedly, about the hot sex, the bondage, etc of this book.  Yes, there is sex.  Yes it is steamier than Harlequin, however it is not nearly as sexually explicit as some erotica books out on the market.  There is one scene of slight violence, however it was handled in a way that truly lent to the book.  I am not going to go into this any further because I do not want to give anything away.  As far as bondage?  Slight.  Being controlling?  Slight.  An actual story of love?  Yes.  A story that goes deeper than sex?  Absolutely yes.

Going in, I really had no expectation for Fifty Shades of Grey.  I was neutral and curious.  This is what I took from it:

Christian is an amazing character.  He has some major issues that began at a very early age, which have damaged him deeply.  He has a need for control on a psychological level that goes beyond machismo.  He doesn't feel the need for control for a shallow reason, but one to survive.  He is a lost soul who needs to find salvation.

Ana is a young innocent college grad.  She has the world in front of her.  Ana has also never felt the need or desire for a physical relationship with a man.  That all changes, however, when she inadvertently meets Christian.  Her world spins in a way she worries she will lose control of, but manages not to drown in.

Together, Christian and Ana battle emotional demons as the sparks of heady chemistry roars between them.  For Christian, Ana presents many "firsts", which both surprise and scare him.  For reasons beyond him, Ana is different and reaches into him unlike anyone he has ever met before.  Ana battles her sub-conscience and "inner goddess" to figure out what is right for her and how far she is willing to let herself stretch for Christian.

I truly adored both of these characters.  They came to life in an amazing way for me and truly made me care for both of them - particularly Christian.  A bit of food for thought:  Christian asks that Ana's hands (or whomever he is having a relationship with) to be bound during sex.  His biggest fear?  To have his chest touched.  Connection?  See, for me, the bondage issue went way beyond kinky sex.

In any case, I really enjoyed Fifty Shades of Grey.  I can't wait to continue with the trilogy to delve deeper into Christian's past and discover the demons that have tortuously branded him.  I anxiously look forward to seeing how the lives of both Ana and Christian unfold.  For me, this was a story of two lives who deeply connect and love one another.  One of those people unable to form a healthy and "normal" relationship, nor ever had the desire to, until now.  This was a story of strength, demons, trust and faith.  It was not a story of sex.

I do want to mention that the story was not perfect for me.  The writing was very good, however many times the author would pop in words that seemed out of place within the story.  The words would be the type of words not normally used in every day conversation (at least for me) and would break up the flow of the story for me a bit.  Some examples?  Infinitesimally, envisages, medulla oblongata (ex: And from a very tiny, underused part of my brain - probably located at the base of my medulla oblongata where my subconscious dwells - comes the thought:), and there are others throughout, these are just a few that stood out.  E.L. James does use amazing word visualization and easily drew me into the story and the scenes.  When the scenes were sizzling, they were hot, when the scenes were emotionally tortured, they were very heart-tugging and when the scenes were sweet, they were heart-melting.  All-in-all, Fifty Shades of Grey is a wonderful book and one that I highly recommend - not because it is so media "hyped" but because it is a wonderful story - just please do not read it simply for the sex, but delve into the complex emotional and psychological aspects of the story.  And for the record - I have heard this being dubbed the "dirty Twilight" books.  Honestly?  Other than a tortured male character and an innocent female character - there is absolutely no similarities - at least none that I could find.

*Did you know that Fifty Shades of Grey has a soundtrack?!  Well, it does and please be sure to check it out!  (click here)

About E.L. James:


E L James is a TV executive, wife and mother-of-two based in West London. Since early childhood she dreamed of writing stories that readers would fall in love with, but put those dreams on hold to focus on her family and her career. She finally plucked up the courage to put pen to paper with her first novel, Fifty Shades of Grey.

E L James is currently working on a new love story...

Guest Review: Blissfully Snowbound by Red Phoenix

I don't usually review erotic romance on my blog because it's not a good fit with the rest of my reviews, so April has been kind enough to allow me to post here occasionally when I find something I really loved. I have become a big fan of Red Phoenix. Her stories are short, but usually not overly short, and they tend to be a great combination of sweet and hot. Blissfully Snowbound is free right now and I adored it!

Check out the blurb:

Two couples plan a mountain getaway, but only Dan and Jenny make it before the blizzard strikes. That leaves them alone together for five days. With tons of time on their hands and a natural attraction for each other, things start to heat up. Dan has a crush on her and finds creative ways to seduce Jenny. By the time it's over, the two must make a choice - either way, hearts will suffer.


This sexy novelette explores what happens when two responsible adults find themselves in a situation where hidden love can flourish.


(Just a note, this one is definitely for adults 18+.)

Be sure to stop by and check out Red Phoenix at her blog: http://redphoenixauthor.blogspot.com/ and find her on Twitter: @redphoenix69


Michelle V
Life in Review

*I want to give a huge thank you to Michelle for being a guest reviewer and hope that she will review many many more books here in the future.  She rocks - if you haven't already, please be sure to check out Michelle's blog, Life in Review!

As a side note, if there is anyone who would like to guest blog on Cafe Smexy, I am more than thrilled to have you!

More Freebies! (Limited Time)

          

Okay, here are a few to get your weekend started. I will be adding more later on. Once again, just click on the cover and it will take you to the Amazon page. If you have any freebies you would like to share, please let us know in the comments!!

Thanks!

Sizzling Freebies! (Limited Time!)

Here are some sizzling sounding freebies to get while you can!  Simply click on the cover and you will be taken to the Amazon book link!  Enjoy!!

   

Drool-Worthy Covers!

    

So, what do you think? Which cover do you like the best? By the way, just click the cover pic to be taken to the book and discover what treats await you behind the cover!

Don't You Wish You Were a Bunny?!

Happy Easter!!

I Want...

Okay, I just found this title by Charlotte Stein and if you read my previous post where I reviewed Doubled, also by Ms.Stein, you know how much I love her.  So, I came across this title, Sheltered and am drooling to get my hands on a copy!!  Has anyone read it yet?!

About Sheltered:

Evie has lived her entire life under her abusive father’s thumb. He controls everything. Where she goes to college, who she sees, what she does. But when she meets Van—a punk who shows her how different life could be—she realizes how much she’s been missing.Van offers her excitement, protection, love…and most of all, sex—even if he’s at first reluctant to give her all the things she’s been craving. She wants to explore this new world of arousal and desire, but Van is only too aware of how fragile she is, how innocent…And how much is at stake, when their love is forbidden.

Also, here is one more that I found:


Power Play

When Eleanor Harding is abruptly promoted, she loses two very important things: the heated relationship she had with her boss, and control over her own desires. Without a restraining hand on her she finds herself suddenly craving something very different – and the office lackey, Benjamin, seems like just the sort of man to fulfil her needs. He’s eager, lustful and willing to show her all of the things she’s been missing – namely, what it’s like to be the one in charge, for a change. Now all Eleanor has to do is decide… is Ben calling the kinky shots, or is she?

Excerpt:

"When he tells me to lift my skirt and bend over his desk, there’s a moment where I hesitate. There’s always a moment. It’s like the feeling just before the lock springs under the pressure of the correct key you’ve somehow chosen. My body goes completely still and the word no makes a fist in my throat, and then I just do it.

I wriggle my tight skirt up over my thighs and expose my backside to his waiting gaze.

In fact, I do much more than that. Mainly because I’ve started anticipating these little trips up to the thirtieth floor, and this morning I went without knickers. Plus, when I bend over my legs somehow automatically spread, so he doesn’t just get a view of the dark seam between the lush curves of my ass cheeks.

He gets to see the slippery pink flesh between, as flushed and swollen as ever I’ve felt it. Of course I like to pretend I hate these little excursions up to the thirtieth floor, and that what Mr Woods does to me is degrading and disgusting and oh, isn’t it awful. But the fact remains that the moment he tells me to bend over in that silvery voice of his, my clit swells. My sex plumps. Wetness trickles from the clenching hole between my legs, down over my quite possibly quivering thighs.

I quiver, for Mr Woods. I bend over, for Mr Woods. I forget that I was ever Ms Harding, Executive Editor of Barrett and Bates, and I become this other creature.

I don’t even know her name, to be honest. She looks like me and talks like me and even acts like me in some respects – I still lay my hands on the desk so that they’re apart but parallel to each other – but she can never have that little buzz of respect before her name the way I so often do: Ms.

And she could never let herself be used the way I’m going to let Mr Woods use me right now. I turn over in my mind each way he could possibly debase me as he stands behind me in his crisp grey suit with his crisp grey face and his mouth in that mean line it so often falls into.

He could push something into my cunt. He’s never done it before, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t do it now if he wanted to. I’m as slick as I’ve ever been, but more than that I feel greedy down there, as though I could take anything he wanted to offer. That award he got, for excellence in business or something like it? That big, thick, curved one, with the little nubs all around its length like a thing just made for stirring the nerves inside someone’s body?

Yeah, he could fill me with that, if he so chose. In my normal life, the life outside the strange, still unspoken relationship we’ve struck up, I would never let someone choose something like that for me.

But here it’s different. Here he doesn’t have to say a word, and my mind floods with a million options, each more disgusting than the last. In fact, I suspect that my mind is actually far more disgusting than his. After all, he’s never actually fucked me. Most of the time he doesn’t touch me between my legs, and he hardly ever pushes me into touching him.

It’s just this, it’s just him behind me with the thought of what he could do buzzing through my body. He could order me to oil my own ass and let him slip his cock inside. He could cane me until my flesh sang red-hot songs, until I bled and wept and begged him not to.

And though I’m sure I’ve never wanted any of those things, there’s something about him that makes me give in anyway. Something about his eyes, as calm and colourless as a midwinter day. And his tone, his perfect, metallic tone.

No order is ever barked; his voice is never raised. His orders don’t seem like orders, to be honest. One day he just said to me, quite matter-of-factly: I’d like to see your cunt now, Ms Harding. In the same way one might ask to see the quarterly reports or the latest projections or something of that nature.

And then a sort of haze had descended over me, as though his words had thrown a veil over my head. The veil is with me right now as he murmurs that I should spread my legs wider, wider. He wants to see just how wet I am, just how bad I’ve been, before he progresses to anything further.

And oh God, how I’m longing for anything further. Use the award, I think at him frantically, while my cheeks turn crimson and my body shudders over the idea. Force me to take your cock, I think at him, though somehow I know he never will.

I’m not allowed.

‘I see you’re very wet, Ms Harding,’ he says, then follows it with more disapproving words that I don’t want to hear. ‘Yes, very wet indeed. Would you care to explain to me how you got into such a disgusting state?’

No, I would not care to explain. My entire body sizzles with embarrassment and I have to force my hands to remain flat. And yet I find my mouth opening and words that aren’t my own come out, as though I have a talk-string on my back and he just pulled it.

‘I’ve been thinking about fucking,’ I say, which at least has the virtue of being honest, if not the virtue of being what I actually wanted to say.

‘Fucking who?’ he asks, just as I knew he would. Only this time I find the wherewithal to lie. I have to find the wherewithal to lie. He always asks me this and I always answer the same way – with something that affirms him as the one who controls me – but this time, it’s not true.

And I can’t possibly explain to him why it isn’t. I can’t. It’s more embarrassing than the long, slow throb between my legs.

‘You,’ I say, and then I think of the new guy in the hallway, spilling his armful of papers everywhere. The way his shirt had been untucked at the back. The look on his face, like someone lost inside a maze created by a superior race that hates him.

‘You thought about my cock inside you?’ he asks, and oh that delicious deliberation in his voice still gets me. I have to rub my stiff and aching nipples against the desk just to take the edge off – though I know he will punish me for it soon.

Any transgression, he punishes me for it. Once, I rubbed the toe of my shoe over the back of my opposite ankle to scratch an itch there. And in return for this minor slip he had made me bend double and grasp that said same place while he paddled my ass with a ping-pong bat.

To this day I have no idea where the ping-pong bat came from.

‘Yes.’

‘You think about it often?’

‘All the time.’

‘Describe how you imagine it would feel, sliding in.’

God, why does he always have to make me describe? I’m terrible at it. I’m the worst.

‘Mmmm, so good,’ I say, limply, and for my crimes I get a hard slap to the ass. Of course I do. I should have said solid or satisfying or what I’m really thinking: not as good as that new guy’s cock.

The one I could practically see through his pathetic trousers, as he bent and stretched and reached for all his fallen papers, face red, everything about him so awkward and appalling. He should be taken out of his misery, he really should. He should be planted over a desk and made to see the error of his ways, just as I am now.

And then maybe he’d beg like me too.

‘Oh please, please just fill me with something. Please,’ I blurt out, but it’s the strangest thing. I don’t know if I’m saying it for Mr Woods, or for the other thoughts that are pushing their way through my addled mind.

Thoughts such as: if it was the new guy behind me, would he fill me now? I don’t think I’d have to beg with him, but somehow that doesn’t seem like a negative. Instead, my body flushes with the thought of how eager he’d probably be – cock so stiff and swollen it’s almost touching his belly, pre-come welling at the tip like a promise of all the copious slickness he’s about to spill.

And he’d spill it inside me. Of course he would. Two thrusts and he’d be done, cock spurting thickly in my waiting cunt, hands all sweaty on my hips and oh God maybe he’d moan too. He wouldn’t be like Mr Woods – silent, implacable, unmoveable. He’d actually say something as he touches me, and if he didn’t want to, if he couldn’t …

I’d make him.

The realisation shoves its way through me, as hard as those first words from Mr Woods did. I’d like to see your cunt now, Ms Harding, I think, and then hot on its heels:

I’d like to see your cock now, new guy.

Benjamin, I think his name is. Benjamin, I think, as Mr Woods rubs something too cold and unyielding against the slippery lips of my cunt. And then when I moan to feel it, and squirm against it, he eases it down, down until the smooth tip is rubbing against my swollen clit.

I don’t mind admitting that I forget about Benjamin then. Hell, I forget my own name. Pleasure whites out all of my higher thought processes and leaves behind this: this shame-riddled, wriggling mess. This thing, that can only plead:

‘Uhhhh, yes – more. More.’

I try to angle my hips to catch whatever he’s using – the award, my mind screams, the award, even though I know it’s not – and get it inside me, but naturally he’s too good for that. He just pulls back further, until the thing is barely touching me at all. In fact, I’m sure I can only feel it because my clit is so sensitive, so ready for any little touch that stirring the air over its surface makes me liquid between my legs.

Makes me moan, too loud and too long. Outside his doors, hundreds of people are working away, oblivious – but they won’t be oblivious if I carry on like this. If I buck and pant and tell him to just fuck me with it, fuck my cunt with it.

‘Such a filthy mouth, Ms Harding,’ he says, and then he does something worse than all the rest of this nonsense combined.

He slides the tip of whatever this is up, up, past my ready and waiting pussy to a place I’m completely not prepared for. I’m so not prepared for it that I lurch forward against the desk, and actually almost say something weak and pathetic, like:

Please don’t. I’ve never had anything there before.

Luckily, my perfectly perpendicular hands save me. The thought of that Ms at the start of my name saves me. The idea of Benjamin stumbling and fumbling and just being such a mess saves me.

And I don’t break. I don’t say anything at all as he offers me one tiny, amused sort of sound. He never laughs, Mr Woods – of course he doesn’t – but sometimes I’m sure my struggles and my boundaries entertain him.

And this is such a petty boundary to have. Who hasn’t had something in their ass? Yet the fact remains that I haven’t, and the more he pushes and twists and makes that amused sound, the harder I clench and flame red with mortification.

I don’t know what’s worse, either – the fact that he’s doing this with something impossibly thick and still achingly cold, or that I can feel how slick its surface is. As though he didn’t just coat it in my liquid before he decided to rub it over my arse.

He oiled it in advance, for this specific purpose. He knew he was going to penetrate me there before I even walked into this office, and no amount of my squirming and whimpering is going to change that.

I just have to squeeze my eyes tight shut and let him ease it slowly in.

And oh God he does, he does. He braces one hand on my tense ass cheek, and then twists this thick and slippery thing until my body starts to yield to it. The tight ring of muscle there clenches and tries to deny the intrusion, but then everything just seems to give and I feel it slide all the way in to the hilt.

Worse than the hilt, in fact, because once the thing is lodged firmly inside me I can make out the press of his fingers where he’s gripping it at the base. Somehow it’s the most intimate touch he’s offered me since this whole thing began.

‘I think I would like you to rub your clit as I fuck you. What do you think, Ms Harding?’

I think nothing. I’m made of nothing. All I can feel or respond to is the slow slide of this fake cock as he pushes it in and out of my ass. As it stirs all of these little nerve-endings that I didn’t know existed, everything so glossy and slick that the feeling is almost unbearable.

‘I think you’d like that. Now reach between your legs and find your clit.’

I flop around for a moment, trying my best to do as I’m told. My arms feel rubbery and unresponsive, and with this fake cock working back and forth inside me it’s hard to lift my body to get at what he’s asking for.

And it doesn’t get any easier when I finally reach my stiff little bud. Just skimming the pad of one finger over its tense surface is like a punch to the gut. It feels immense, and every touch of it burns too hotly, and then he actually makes a sound as he forces the thing into me and oh God I can’t take it, I can’t.

I can accept something fucking my ass. I can take being bent over his desk. I can’t endure him grunting like that, as though maybe this whole thing affects him a little more than he usually lets on. Him grunting makes me imagine torrid, glorious things, like his cock all stiff and solid against the material of his impeccable trousers.

And though I daren’t look to check, I can almost picture him stroking himself as he does this to me. One hand on his hard cock, one hand on the fake one he’s pumping in and out of my willing body, until finally he gives in and lets himself spurt all over –

‘Oh fuck, Mr Woods,’ I moan, because everything is just too much. The heated pulse between my finger and my clit, the feel of the fake cock fucking into me, raggedly, the idea of him coming on my upturned ass … I can’t take it.

Instead, I press down hard on my clit and let the first trembling waves ebb through me, pushing back against the pounding he’s now doling out until said waves become a great wash of pleasure.

‘Yes, keep doing that, keep doing it, I’m coming – ohhhhh,’ I tell him, because by this point I’m beyond all good sense. I don’t know who I am or where I might be, and all I care about is the orgasm that’s shoving rudely through my body.

And God, it goes on and on and on. By the time it’s finished I’m a wet, trembling mess on the desk. Perpendicular hands forgotten. Perfect clothes sweated through. Ass so sore I’ll barely be able to walk for the rest of the day.

Though that’s not unusual, for our cold little relationship. At the very least I’m usually sitting on some red handprints in any afternoon meetings I then have – meetings that are actually going to start very soon.

In fact, they’re going to start so soon that my real self comes back to me far quicker than usual, and I go to straighten before he’s given me permission. I try to stand, but before I can get anywhere near said position that tented hand is back on my ass. His metallic voice is back in my ear.

‘Stay still, Ms Harding,’ he says, only he sounds different for just a second. That metallic tone peels away and reveals something rusted and old beneath, and then I actually feel it on my skin, just as I had imagined.

A searing stripe of something slick. And then another. And another.

Though that’s not the shocking thing. I mean, I’ve often imagined him losing some of his control. Sometimes I’ve hungered for it, with my hand between my legs and orgasm just one wretched inch away.

But in all of these fantasies of him breaking, I’ll confess: I never imagined him moaning something heated. The Benjamins of this world moan heated things. They let themselves go and can’t control themselves – not people like Mr Woods."

Review: Doubled by Charlotte Stein

Doubled
By:  Charlotte Stein

File Size: 222 KB
Print Length: 111 pages
Publisher: Ellora's Cave (January 11, 2012)

About Doubled:

Bobbi has been friends with the Hoffman twins for one long, glorious year. They’re sweet, funny and kind, but there’s a problem…they’re also hotness personified. Times two. And when they lure her into a kinky little game involving a blindfold and some rather unexpected fondling, she finds them much harder to resist than she’d imagined.It seems they want to be something other than just good friends. They want a hot, steamy ménage, and all Bobbi has to do is decide if she’s up to the challenge. One big, gorgeous guy is enough for her.Two might be more than she can handle…

My review: Sweet, sizzling fun! What does one do when two incredibly hot twin brothers adore you, protect you and suddenly want to "play"?! Oh, the tragedy!

Bobbi has been best friends with Tobias and Sebastian (the hot Hoffman twins) for a year now. They treat her like gold, protect and defend her and seem to basically worship the ground that she walks on. Bobbi cannot imagine why a couple of hotties like them would want to be friends with a "plain" girl like her, but she goes along with it and has a blast being BFFs with two of the most drool-worthy and nice guys that she knows. For some reason, though the twins are absolutely identical, Bobbi never has a problem telling them a part. The guys are blown away by this. It is on a dare, one evening, when Sebastian bets Bobbi that she cannot tell them a part with a blindfold on that things take a yummy turn.

(CLICK HERE to continue reading my review at Romancing the Book) *Due to tightening of rules on reviews at Amazon, I am no longer able to re-post my complete reviews of books that I also reviewed on RtB.  Therefore, I will be posting a teaser bit and linking to the entire review.  Thanks!*

Favorite Quote from the book:  He’d taken his shirt off. Whoever it was had absolutely, one hundred percent taken his shirt off. She couldn’t even deny it, because he had hold of her hand and he’d put it right on his bare shoulder—all big and thick with bone and muscle.

She could almost hear what he was saying, without any words—Can you tell now? Can you tell who I am now?

5/5 Flames!