In the Unlikely Event: The Most Likely of Things Happen!

Lies, deceit, undermining in the name of love, protection, self-sacrifice is the wild ride of the game between Aurora and Malachy. The star crossed lovers met in a twenty-four-hour whirlwind love affair. One destined to bind them and destined to destroy all they know. A contract written on a napkin ties their future together. But is the future one they can handle?

L.J. Shen creates an unorthodox paradox of the lover’s triangle in her latest work. However, this lover’s triangle digs deep into the id and super-ego with the ego tamping down the two as they quarrel over the plight of their situation. Shen develops a web of human interaction that interferes with fate all in the name of protecting the ones you love most. She successfully destroys the hero and heroine and unfolds the dirty details of a past better left hidden, a present built upon lies, and a future set in the stars. Shen takes a chance in this work with a stylistic choice of speaking from the grave, utilizing personification in a unique manner, and providing a specific context where changing POV from animate to inanimate which supplies a richness over the entire work. Never fear, Shen is still the risk-taker with all the taboo and anti-heroism mixed nicely with these new elements in the craft. My hats off to Shen for taking In the Unlikely Event to most likely to happen in a paradoxical work that highlights fate cannot be ignored, so it’s best to stop fighting it!



π‘†π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘‘π‘–π‘šπ‘’π‘  π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘šπ‘’π‘’π‘‘ π‘π‘’π‘œπ‘π‘™π‘’ π‘€β„Žπ‘œ π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘œπ‘’π‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘€π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘™π‘‘, π‘ π‘œ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘š π‘Ž π‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ .

A one-night stand born from vengeance in a foreign land.
An explosive chemistry neither of us could deny.
We signed a contract on the back of a Boar’s Head Pub napkin that said if we ever met again, we would drop everything and be together.
Eight years and thousands of miles later, he’s here.
In New York.
And he’s America’s music obsession.
The intangible Irish poet who brings record executives to their knees.
The blizzard in my perfect, unshaken snow globe.
Last time we spoke, he was a beggar with no intention of becoming a king.
But a king he became, and now I’m his servant.
I’m not the same broken princess Malachy Doherty put back together with his callused hands.
I have a career I love.
A boyfriend I adore.
An apartment, a roommate, a life.
I changed. He changed, too.
But Mal kept the napkin.
Question is, will I keep my word

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