The Tied Man by Tabitha McGowan
genre: dark, erotica, romance | pages: 395
My rating: ★★★★
The Tied Man is one of those books that whilst reading it I couldn’t seem to get enough, yet when I’m done, I’m left wondering why I would voluntarily traumatise myself. It was a good read—but understand that by good, I mean that while it has a gripping storyline, this book will plaster images on the back of your eyelids that will never ever rub off.
The plot centres around Lilith and Finn. Lilith whilst busy going about her (pretty enviable) artist’s existence, is cornered into a situation beyond comprehension: a long ‘vacation’ at an estate that caters to the whims of the most twisted sexual deviants I’ve ever come across.
That’s nothing, I hear you say.
Wait for it…
That’s not the part which set my mind-boggling.
One of the live-in residents is a handsome but tragic Irishman. Finn. He is nothing short of a sex slave—used, abused, punished, and tortured, all under the questionable ‘contract’ he has with the estate owner, Blaine, and her many dubious clients.
I know, I know! Mentions of sex contracts these days brings forth images of Christian Grey and his whip, but Fifty Shades is like reading Enid Blyton compared to this book; and although the second Fifty Shades book (yes, shut up, I read all three) gets a little meatier in terms of actual plot (emphasis on little), The Tied Man outdoes this by a mile. Maybe five.
If this all sounds a bit far-fetched, don’t let it put you off. The plot is by no means thin, and these bizarre events have relatable circumstances. Firstly, Finn didn’t sign the contract for fun; there’s a legitimate and noble reason why he did. Secondly, Lilith didn’t just go along for the ride; she’s almost as trapped as Finn is, first because of Blaine, and then by her own unwillingness to give up on Finn. Lastly, the impressive writing and engaging protagonists keep the plot grounded, immersing the reader into the characters’ world.
I’ve read some spectacularly questionable stories before and I’m not easily shocked or repelled, and I’m definitely not easily offended by books, but this one… This one made even the likes of my warped mind cower in the corner—trembling. Yet, I’d recommend it to anyone who might enjoy torturing themselves with dark, twisted tales (fans of Comfort Food, Flawed, etc.)
I gobbled word after word—scene after gory scene—because at the heart of this disturbing story there is a nugget of beauty—HOPE.
‘The momentary discomfort was nothing at all compared to the realisation that she was finding refuge in my flawed embrace.’ — Finn