When unworldly student Ana Steele first encountered the driven, damaged young entrepreneur Christian Grey, it sparked a sensual affair that changed both their lives irrevocably. Shocked, intrigued, and ultimately repelled by Christian’s singular sexual tastes, Ana demanded a deeper commitment; determined to keep her, Christian agreed. Now, together, they have more—love, passion, intimacy, wealth, and a world of infinite possibilities. But Ana always knew that loving her Fifty Shades would not be easy and being together poses challenges neither of them ever anticipated. Ana must somehow learn to share Christian’s opulent lifestyle without sacrificing her own integrity, identity, or independence; Christian must somehow overcome his compulsion to control and lay to rest the horrors that blighted his past and haunt his present. Just when it seems that together their love can conquer any obstacle, tragedy, malice and fate combine to make Ana’s worst nightmares come true.
--Ce texte fait référence à une édition épuisée ou non disponible de ce titre.
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PROLOGUE
Mommy! Mommy! Mommy is asleep on the floor. She has been asleep for a long time. I brush her hair because she likes that. She doesn’t wake up. I shake her. Mommy! My tummy hurts. It is hungry. He isn’t here. I am thirsty. In the kitchen I pull a chair to the sink, and I have a drink. The water splashes over my blue sweater. Mommy is still asleep. Mommy wake up! She lies still. She is cold. I fetch my blankie, and I cover Mommy, and I lie down on the sticky green rug beside her. Mommy is still asleep. I have two toy cars. They race by the floor where Mommy is sleeping. I think Mommy is sick. I search for something to eat. In the freezer I find peas. They are cold. I eat them slowly. They make my tummy hurt. I sleep beside Mommy. The peas are gone. In the freezer is something. It smells funny. I lick it and my tongue is stuck to it. I eat it slowly. It tastes nasty. I drink some water. I play with my cars, and I sleep beside Mommy. Mommy is so cold, and she won’t wake up. The door crashes open. I cover Mommy with my blankie. He’s here. Fuck. What the fuck happened here? Oh, the crazy fucked-up bitch. Shit. Fuck. Get out of my way, you little shit. He kicks me, and I hit my head on the floor. My head hurts. He calls somebody and he goes. He locks the door. I lay down beside Mommy. My head hurts. The lady policeman is here. No. No. No. Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. I stay by Mommy. No. Stay away from me. The lady policeman has my blankie, and she grabs me. I scream. Mommy! Mommy! I want my mommy. The words are gone. I can’t say the words. Mommy can’t hear me. I have no words.
“Christian! Christian!” Her voice is urgent, pulling him from the depths of his nightmare, the depths of his despair. “I’m here. I’m here.”
He wakes and she’s leaning over him, grasping his shoulders, shaking him, her face etched with anguish, blue eyes wide and brimming with tears.
“Ana.” His voice is a breathless whisper, the taste of fear tarnishing his mouth. “You’re here.”
“Of course I’m here.”
“I had a dream . . .”
“I know. I’m here, I’m here.”
“Ana.” He breathes her name, and it’s a talisman against the black choking panic coursing through his body.
“Hush, I’m here.” She curls around him, her limbs cocooning him, her warmth leeching into his body, forcing back the shadows, forcing back the fear. She is sunshine, she is light . . . she is his.
“Please let’s not fight.” His voice is hoarse as he wraps his arms around her.
“Okay.”
“The vows. No obeying. I can do that. We’ll find a way.” The words rush out of his mouth in a tumble of emotion and confusion and anxiety.
“Yes. We will. We’ll always find a way,” she whispers, and her lips are on his, silencing him, bringing him back to the now.
CHAPTER ONE
I stare up through gaps in the sea-grass parasol at the bluest of skies, summer blue, Mediterranean blue, with a contented sigh. Christian is beside me, stretched out on a sun lounge. My husband—my hot, beautiful husband, shirtless and in cut-off jeans—is reading a book predicting the collapse of the Western banking system. By all accounts, it’s a page-turner. I haven’t seen him sit this still, ever. He looks more like a student than the hotshot CEO of one of the top privately owned companies in the United States.
On the final leg of our honeymoon, we laze in the afternoon sun on the beach of the aptly named Beach Plaza Monte Carlo in Monaco, although we’re not actually staying in this hotel. I open my eyes and gaze out at the Fair Lady anchored in the harbor. We are staying, of course, on board a luxury motor yacht. Built in 1928, she floats majestically on the water, queen of all the yachts in the harbor. She looks like a child’s wind-up toy. Christian loves her—I suspect he’s tempted to buy her. Honestly, boys and their toys.
Sitting back, I listen to the Christian Grey mix on my new iPod and doze in the late afternoon sun, idly remembering his proposal. Oh, his dreamy proposal in the boathouse . . . I can almost smell the scent of the meadow flowers . . .
-----
“Can we marry tomorrow?” Christian murmurs softly in my ear. I am sprawled on his chest in the flowery bower in the boathouse, sated from our passionate lovemaking.
“Hmm.”
“Is that a yes?” I hear his hopeful surprise.
“Hmm.”
“A no?”
“Hmm.”
I sense his grin. “Miss Steele, are you incoherent?”
I grin. “Hmm.”
He laughs and hugs me tightly, kissing the top of my head. “Vegas, tomorrow, it is then.”
Sleepily I raise my head. “I don’t think my parents would be very happy with that.”
He thrums his fingertips up and down my naked back, caressing me gently.
“What do you want, Anastasia? Vegas? A big wedding with all the trimmings? Tell me.”
“Not big . . . Just friends and family.” I gaze up at him, moved by the quiet entreaty in his glowing gray eyes. What does he want?
“Okay.” He nods. “Where?”
I shrug.
“Could we do it here?” he asks tentatively.
“Your folks’ place? Would they mind?”
He snorts. “My mother would be in seventh heaven.”
“Okay, here. I’m sure my mom and dad would prefer that.”
He strokes my hair. Could I be any happier?
“So, we’ve established where, now the when.”
“Surely you should ask your mother.”
“Hmm.” Christian’s smile dips. “She can have a month, that’s it. I want you too much to wait any longer.”
“Christian, you have me. You’ve had me for a while. But okay—a month it is.” I kiss his chest, a soft chaste kiss, and smile up at him.
-----
“You’ll burn,” Christian whispers in my ear, startling me from my doze.
“Only for you.” I give him my sweetest smile. The late afternoon sun has shifted, and I am under its full glare. He smirks and in one swift move pulls my sun lounge into the shade of the parasol.
“Out of the Mediterranean sun, Mrs. Grey.”
“Thank you for your altruism, Mr. Grey.”
“My pleasure, Mrs. Grey, and I’m not being altruistic at all. If you burn, I won’t be able to touch you.” He raises an eyebrow, his eyes shining with mirth, and my heart expands. “But I suspect you know that and you’re laughing at me.”
“Would I?” I gasp, feigning innocence.
“Yes, you would and you do. Often. It’s one of the many things I love about you.” He leans down and kisses me, playfully biting my lower lip.
“I was hoping you’d rub me down with more sunscreen.” I pout against his lips.
“Mrs. Grey, it’s a dirty job . . . but that’s an offer I can’t refuse. Sit up,” he orders, his voice husky. I do as I’m told, and with slow meticulous strokes from strong and supple fingers, he coats me in sunscreen.
“You really are very lovely. I’m a lucky man,” he murmurs as his fingers skim over my breasts, spreading the lotion.
“Yes, you are, Mr. Grey.” I gaze coyly up at him through my lashes.
“Modesty becomes you, Mrs. Grey. Turn over. I want to do your back.”
Smiling, I roll over, and he undoes the back strap of my hideously expensive bikini.
“How would you feel if I went topless, like the other women on the beach?” I ask.
“Displeased,” he says without hesitation. “I’m not very happy about you wearing so little right now.” He leans down and whispers in my ear. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Is that a challenge, Mr. Grey?”
“No. It’s a statement of fact, Mrs. Grey.”
I sigh and shake my head. Oh, Christian . . . my possessive, jealous, control freak Christian.
When he’s finished, he slaps my behind.
“You’ll do, wench.”
His ever-present, ever-active BlackBerry buzzes. I frown and he smirks.
“My eyes only, Mrs. Grey.” He raises his eyebrow in playful warning, slaps my backside once more, and sits back down on his lounger to take the call.
My inner goddess purrs. Maybe tonight we could do some kind of floor show for his eyes only. She smirks knowingly, arching a brow. I grin at the thought and drift back into my afternoon siesta.
“Mam’selle? Un Perrier pour moi, un Coca-Cola light pour ma femme, s’il vous plait. Et quelque chose a manger . . . laissezmoi voir la carte.”
Hmm . . . Christian speaking fluent French wakes me. My eyelashes flutter in the glare of the sun, and I find Christian watching me while a liveried young woman walks away, her tray held aloft, her high blonde ponytail swinging provocatively.
... --Ce texte fait référence à l'édition Broché .
Mommy! Mommy! Mommy is asleep on the floor. She has been asleep for a long time. I brush her hair because she likes that. She doesn’t wake up. I shake her. Mommy! My tummy hurts. It is hungry. He isn’t here. I am thirsty. In the kitchen I pull a chair to the sink, and I have a drink. The water splashes over my blue sweater. Mommy is still asleep. Mommy wake up! She lies still. She is cold. I fetch my blankie, and I cover Mommy, and I lie down on the sticky green rug beside her. Mommy is still asleep. I have two toy cars. They race by the floor where Mommy is sleeping. I think Mommy is sick. I search for something to eat. In the freezer I find peas. They are cold. I eat them slowly. They make my tummy hurt. I sleep beside Mommy. The peas are gone. In the freezer is something. It smells funny. I lick it and my tongue is stuck to it. I eat it slowly. It tastes nasty. I drink some water. I play with my cars, and I sleep beside Mommy. Mommy is so cold, and she won’t wake up. The door crashes open. I cover Mommy with my blankie. He’s here. Fuck. What the fuck happened here? Oh, the crazy fucked-up bitch. Shit. Fuck. Get out of my way, you little shit. He kicks me, and I hit my head on the floor. My head hurts. He calls somebody and he goes. He locks the door. I lay down beside Mommy. My head hurts. The lady policeman is here. No. No. No. Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. I stay by Mommy. No. Stay away from me. The lady policeman has my blankie, and she grabs me. I scream. Mommy! Mommy! I want my mommy. The words are gone. I can’t say the words. Mommy can’t hear me. I have no words.
“Christian! Christian!” Her voice is urgent, pulling him from the depths of his nightmare, the depths of his despair. “I’m here. I’m here.”
He wakes and she’s leaning over him, grasping his shoulders, shaking him, her face etched with anguish, blue eyes wide and brimming with tears.
“Ana.” His voice is a breathless whisper, the taste of fear tarnishing his mouth. “You’re here.”
“Of course I’m here.”
“I had a dream . . .”
“I know. I’m here, I’m here.”
“Ana.” He breathes her name, and it’s a talisman against the black choking panic coursing through his body.
“Hush, I’m here.” She curls around him, her limbs cocooning him, her warmth leeching into his body, forcing back the shadows, forcing back the fear. She is sunshine, she is light . . . she is his.
“Please let’s not fight.” His voice is hoarse as he wraps his arms around her.
“Okay.”
“The vows. No obeying. I can do that. We’ll find a way.” The words rush out of his mouth in a tumble of emotion and confusion and anxiety.
“Yes. We will. We’ll always find a way,” she whispers, and her lips are on his, silencing him, bringing him back to the now.
CHAPTER ONE
I stare up through gaps in the sea-grass parasol at the bluest of skies, summer blue, Mediterranean blue, with a contented sigh. Christian is beside me, stretched out on a sun lounge. My husband—my hot, beautiful husband, shirtless and in cut-off jeans—is reading a book predicting the collapse of the Western banking system. By all accounts, it’s a page-turner. I haven’t seen him sit this still, ever. He looks more like a student than the hotshot CEO of one of the top privately owned companies in the United States.
On the final leg of our honeymoon, we laze in the afternoon sun on the beach of the aptly named Beach Plaza Monte Carlo in Monaco, although we’re not actually staying in this hotel. I open my eyes and gaze out at the Fair Lady anchored in the harbor. We are staying, of course, on board a luxury motor yacht. Built in 1928, she floats majestically on the water, queen of all the yachts in the harbor. She looks like a child’s wind-up toy. Christian loves her—I suspect he’s tempted to buy her. Honestly, boys and their toys.
Sitting back, I listen to the Christian Grey mix on my new iPod and doze in the late afternoon sun, idly remembering his proposal. Oh, his dreamy proposal in the boathouse . . . I can almost smell the scent of the meadow flowers . . .
-----
“Can we marry tomorrow?” Christian murmurs softly in my ear. I am sprawled on his chest in the flowery bower in the boathouse, sated from our passionate lovemaking.
“Hmm.”
“Is that a yes?” I hear his hopeful surprise.
“Hmm.”
“A no?”
“Hmm.”
I sense his grin. “Miss Steele, are you incoherent?”
I grin. “Hmm.”
He laughs and hugs me tightly, kissing the top of my head. “Vegas, tomorrow, it is then.”
Sleepily I raise my head. “I don’t think my parents would be very happy with that.”
He thrums his fingertips up and down my naked back, caressing me gently.
“What do you want, Anastasia? Vegas? A big wedding with all the trimmings? Tell me.”
“Not big . . . Just friends and family.” I gaze up at him, moved by the quiet entreaty in his glowing gray eyes. What does he want?
“Okay.” He nods. “Where?”
I shrug.
“Could we do it here?” he asks tentatively.
“Your folks’ place? Would they mind?”
He snorts. “My mother would be in seventh heaven.”
“Okay, here. I’m sure my mom and dad would prefer that.”
He strokes my hair. Could I be any happier?
“So, we’ve established where, now the when.”
“Surely you should ask your mother.”
“Hmm.” Christian’s smile dips. “She can have a month, that’s it. I want you too much to wait any longer.”
“Christian, you have me. You’ve had me for a while. But okay—a month it is.” I kiss his chest, a soft chaste kiss, and smile up at him.
-----
“You’ll burn,” Christian whispers in my ear, startling me from my doze.
“Only for you.” I give him my sweetest smile. The late afternoon sun has shifted, and I am under its full glare. He smirks and in one swift move pulls my sun lounge into the shade of the parasol.
“Out of the Mediterranean sun, Mrs. Grey.”
“Thank you for your altruism, Mr. Grey.”
“My pleasure, Mrs. Grey, and I’m not being altruistic at all. If you burn, I won’t be able to touch you.” He raises an eyebrow, his eyes shining with mirth, and my heart expands. “But I suspect you know that and you’re laughing at me.”
“Would I?” I gasp, feigning innocence.
“Yes, you would and you do. Often. It’s one of the many things I love about you.” He leans down and kisses me, playfully biting my lower lip.
“I was hoping you’d rub me down with more sunscreen.” I pout against his lips.
“Mrs. Grey, it’s a dirty job . . . but that’s an offer I can’t refuse. Sit up,” he orders, his voice husky. I do as I’m told, and with slow meticulous strokes from strong and supple fingers, he coats me in sunscreen.
“You really are very lovely. I’m a lucky man,” he murmurs as his fingers skim over my breasts, spreading the lotion.
“Yes, you are, Mr. Grey.” I gaze coyly up at him through my lashes.
“Modesty becomes you, Mrs. Grey. Turn over. I want to do your back.”
Smiling, I roll over, and he undoes the back strap of my hideously expensive bikini.
“How would you feel if I went topless, like the other women on the beach?” I ask.
“Displeased,” he says without hesitation. “I’m not very happy about you wearing so little right now.” He leans down and whispers in my ear. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Is that a challenge, Mr. Grey?”
“No. It’s a statement of fact, Mrs. Grey.”
I sigh and shake my head. Oh, Christian . . . my possessive, jealous, control freak Christian.
When he’s finished, he slaps my behind.
“You’ll do, wench.”
His ever-present, ever-active BlackBerry buzzes. I frown and he smirks.
“My eyes only, Mrs. Grey.” He raises his eyebrow in playful warning, slaps my backside once more, and sits back down on his lounger to take the call.
My inner goddess purrs. Maybe tonight we could do some kind of floor show for his eyes only. She smirks knowingly, arching a brow. I grin at the thought and drift back into my afternoon siesta.
“Mam’selle? Un Perrier pour moi, un Coca-Cola light pour ma femme, s’il vous plait. Et quelque chose a manger . . . laissezmoi voir la carte.”
Hmm . . . Christian speaking fluent French wakes me. My eyelashes flutter in the glare of the sun, and I find Christian watching me while a liveried young woman walks away, her tray held aloft, her high blonde ponytail swinging provocatively.
... --Ce texte fait référence à l'édition Broché .
Revue de presse
THE NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING FIFTY SHADES Trilogy
"In a class by itself."
—Entertainment Weekly --Ce texte fait référence à l'édition Broché .
"In a class by itself."
—Entertainment Weekly --Ce texte fait référence à l'édition Broché .
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9 internautes sur 10 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile
Par Sandra
Format:Format Kindle
Read all tree and must say that a good editor is completely absent in ALL of them but this one tops them all. It's horribly written, page after page of endless repetitions at some point even the sex scenes ( the only well written parts ) started to get a little boring. I even noticed plot errors here and there which just prove that the book is written in a very lazy way, only concentrating on the sex (the reason why we are all reading it) and not bothering with whatever is happening around it. I had the distinct feeling that I was reading a book from a good porno author and nothing else.
Don't read these books, especially the last one, if you are looking for anything interesting other than a good sex scene here and there. If you are annoyed with the repetitions, the endless "lips pressed in hard lines" and blushing, don't read this last installment, it will drive you crazy and you'll just end up fast tracking to the next sex scene.
Don't read these books, especially the last one, if you are looking for anything interesting other than a good sex scene here and there. If you are annoyed with the repetitions, the endless "lips pressed in hard lines" and blushing, don't read this last installment, it will drive you crazy and you'll just end up fast tracking to the next sex scene.
19 internautes sur 22 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile
Format:Format Kindle
Il était attendu ce dernier tome de la trilogie Fifty Shades ! Depuis la sortie mi-2011 du premier épisode, la trilogie a connu une histoire qui n'est pas sans rappeler celle de Twilight. Cette série érotique pas vraiment pour tout public est devenue un évènement outre-atlantique et le dernier tome publié au début de 2012 reprend exactement les mêmes ingrédients.
Nous avions laissé notre couple compliqué, Christian Grey et Anastasia Steele sur le point de se marier, nous les retrouvons dans une lune de miel idyllique, en Europe et précisément en France. Par d'habiles flashbacks, EL James nous fait découvrir le mariage et comme toujours dans cette série, nous attendons avec anxiété ce qui va venir troubler l'équilibre plus que fragile de ce couple atypique. Evidemment, il y aura beaucoup de soubresauts encore dans cette liaison.
EL James reprend ce qui a fait sa marque avec le même talent. Elle explore avec minutie, lenteur, au jour le jour, la construction d'un amour entre deux personnes compliquées, pour qui l'idée même de vie commune, de concession, de partage pose problème. Ce qui fait son originalité est cette précision clinique qui passe d'un incident à l'autre de cette relation inquiète, jamais totalement en équilibre où tour à tour, l'un des protagonistes déstabilisent l'autre profondément. Pourtant, et c'est la beauté de cette histoire, malgré cette quasi garantie d'échec, ils s'aiment de façon indéfectible d'un amour qui rappelle les histoires mythiques de Tristan et Iseult, de Roméo et Juliette, d'autres encore. Mais au lieu de sceller leur amour dans l'amour, de le rendre immortel par la disparition de l'un ou de l'autre des personnages, c'est dans la vie quotidienne et ordinaire que cette relation s'inscrit, difficile, chaotique, tourmentée mais magnifique. EL James a un style simple, efficace, n'hésite jamais à utiliser les ressorts les plus rose bonbon de la romance, les déclarations enflammées des deux amoureux, les scènes romantiques les plus clichés parfois, réussissant à ne jamais tomber dans le niais ni le sentimentalisme comme par miracle. Il faut aussi noter sa créativité dans l'écriture qui lui a fait créer cette expression de fifty shades (que l'on peut traduire par cinquante nuances, faisant allusion ainsi aux nombreuses facettes de la personnalité compliquée de Christian). Il y en a bien d'autres, qui font toujours mouche et rendent particulièrement vivant le texte.
Et que dire de ces deux personnages ? Christian Grey est entré immédiatement au panthéon des héros inoubliables. Cet homme cumule tout : il est un amant expérimenté et dominateur, un homme brisé, un adolescent sur le plan affectif, un amoureux dépendant, angoissé et exigent, une sorte de quintessence de ce qui fait frissonner les femmes chez un homme. Face à lui, Ana ne cesse de prendre de l'envergure. Cette jeune fille simple, terre à terre, grandit, s'épanouit, s'affirme face à cet homme qui semblait tellement la dominer au début de la trilogie. Les scènes les opposant dans ce dernier tome prouve combien elle parvient à manipuler, utiliser sa faiblesse face à la puissance de Christian. Ils ont du mal à trouver un équilibre mais ils progressent aussi sans cesse.
Tout est centré sur ce couple. Les rebondissements sont simples. Il y a une menace vague, qui met du temps à se préciser autour de Christian et Ana mais cela n'a rien d 'exceptionnel, pas plus que les péripéties de la romance, repris parmi les plus usés du genre. Et pourtant, ils reprennent de la fraicheur sous la plume d'EL James. C'est la force de son talent qui lui permet de marier l'originalité de plus de mille pages d'une histoire de quelques mois et d'une romance aux ressorts classiques. C'est efficace, poignant, amusant, plus fin aussi qu'il y paraît. C'est également audacieux car EL James joue beaucoup avec la domination sexuelle et la BDSM. Ce roman est clairement érotique, évoque de nombreuses pratiques sexuelles inhabituelles dans la romance et s'arrache dans les librairies, provoque des discussions animées dans les clubs de lecture et à la télévision. EL James a réussi son coup et le lecteur peut se délecter sans complexe de cette histoire d'amour follement romantique, aux héros forts, emblématiques et profondément contemporains.
Nous avions laissé notre couple compliqué, Christian Grey et Anastasia Steele sur le point de se marier, nous les retrouvons dans une lune de miel idyllique, en Europe et précisément en France. Par d'habiles flashbacks, EL James nous fait découvrir le mariage et comme toujours dans cette série, nous attendons avec anxiété ce qui va venir troubler l'équilibre plus que fragile de ce couple atypique. Evidemment, il y aura beaucoup de soubresauts encore dans cette liaison.
EL James reprend ce qui a fait sa marque avec le même talent. Elle explore avec minutie, lenteur, au jour le jour, la construction d'un amour entre deux personnes compliquées, pour qui l'idée même de vie commune, de concession, de partage pose problème. Ce qui fait son originalité est cette précision clinique qui passe d'un incident à l'autre de cette relation inquiète, jamais totalement en équilibre où tour à tour, l'un des protagonistes déstabilisent l'autre profondément. Pourtant, et c'est la beauté de cette histoire, malgré cette quasi garantie d'échec, ils s'aiment de façon indéfectible d'un amour qui rappelle les histoires mythiques de Tristan et Iseult, de Roméo et Juliette, d'autres encore. Mais au lieu de sceller leur amour dans l'amour, de le rendre immortel par la disparition de l'un ou de l'autre des personnages, c'est dans la vie quotidienne et ordinaire que cette relation s'inscrit, difficile, chaotique, tourmentée mais magnifique. EL James a un style simple, efficace, n'hésite jamais à utiliser les ressorts les plus rose bonbon de la romance, les déclarations enflammées des deux amoureux, les scènes romantiques les plus clichés parfois, réussissant à ne jamais tomber dans le niais ni le sentimentalisme comme par miracle. Il faut aussi noter sa créativité dans l'écriture qui lui a fait créer cette expression de fifty shades (que l'on peut traduire par cinquante nuances, faisant allusion ainsi aux nombreuses facettes de la personnalité compliquée de Christian). Il y en a bien d'autres, qui font toujours mouche et rendent particulièrement vivant le texte.
Et que dire de ces deux personnages ? Christian Grey est entré immédiatement au panthéon des héros inoubliables. Cet homme cumule tout : il est un amant expérimenté et dominateur, un homme brisé, un adolescent sur le plan affectif, un amoureux dépendant, angoissé et exigent, une sorte de quintessence de ce qui fait frissonner les femmes chez un homme. Face à lui, Ana ne cesse de prendre de l'envergure. Cette jeune fille simple, terre à terre, grandit, s'épanouit, s'affirme face à cet homme qui semblait tellement la dominer au début de la trilogie. Les scènes les opposant dans ce dernier tome prouve combien elle parvient à manipuler, utiliser sa faiblesse face à la puissance de Christian. Ils ont du mal à trouver un équilibre mais ils progressent aussi sans cesse.
Tout est centré sur ce couple. Les rebondissements sont simples. Il y a une menace vague, qui met du temps à se préciser autour de Christian et Ana mais cela n'a rien d 'exceptionnel, pas plus que les péripéties de la romance, repris parmi les plus usés du genre. Et pourtant, ils reprennent de la fraicheur sous la plume d'EL James. C'est la force de son talent qui lui permet de marier l'originalité de plus de mille pages d'une histoire de quelques mois et d'une romance aux ressorts classiques. C'est efficace, poignant, amusant, plus fin aussi qu'il y paraît. C'est également audacieux car EL James joue beaucoup avec la domination sexuelle et la BDSM. Ce roman est clairement érotique, évoque de nombreuses pratiques sexuelles inhabituelles dans la romance et s'arrache dans les librairies, provoque des discussions animées dans les clubs de lecture et à la télévision. EL James a réussi son coup et le lecteur peut se délecter sans complexe de cette histoire d'amour follement romantique, aux héros forts, emblématiques et profondément contemporains.
1 internautes sur 1 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile
Par Nikita06
Format:Broché|Achat authentifié par Amazon
Best book I've read for a long time...
Once you've begun reading it it's just impossible to stop!!!
Really great! :)
please don't listen to negative critics just read it and you'll see! :)
Once you've begun reading it it's just impossible to stop!!!
Really great! :)
please don't listen to negative critics just read it and you'll see! :)
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4.2 étoiles sur 5
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Commentaires client les plus récents
3.0 étoiles sur 5
une conclusion attendue...
Bonne trilogie...
Pour celles et ceux, comme moi, qui aiment les histoires captivantes et intrigantes,
dépêchez-vous de lire un auteur que je viens de... Lire la suite
Pour celles et ceux, comme moi, qui aiment les histoires captivantes et intrigantes,
dépêchez-vous de lire un auteur que je viens de... Lire la suite
Publié il y a 5 jours par Mumu
5.0 étoiles sur 5
Belle conclusion à la trilogie... Dommage que le 4eme n'existe...
Très bonne lecture, belle conclusion à la trilogie. Je l'ai trouvé mieux que le 2ème plus dans l'esprit du premier
Publié il y a 8 jours par Julie
3.0 étoiles sur 5
histoire sympa
ce livre conclu bien la saga. On retrouve nos 2 amoureux, on les voit évoluer pour trouver leur équilibre bref petite histoire d'amour sympa à lire et... Lire la suite
Publié il y a 23 jours par stephanie paquet
3.0 étoiles sur 5
oui mais ...
Une fin attendue dans tous les sens du terme ! le livre est bien, mais ... des rebondissements... mais un petit gout de pas assez, un peu brouillon; mais bon, heureuse d'avoir... Lire la suite
Publié il y a 1 mois par Steph
3.0 étoiles sur 5
Le second
Ce lit aussi bien que le premier même si l'intérêt s'émousse quelque peu au fil des pages. Lire la suite
Publié il y a 2 mois par PAPILLON
5.0 étoiles sur 5
I love fifty shades so much
It's an amazing book where the two lovers learn to trust each other and himself. A very beautiful book but such speed at the end.
Publié il y a 2 mois par Nelly POUVRASSEAU
5.0 étoiles sur 5
Perfect, parfait!!
Le livre est arrivé en très bon état et tout est juste parfait! J'ai déjà commencé la lecture...!! Lire la suite
Publié il y a 2 mois par R. Lechable
3.0 étoiles sur 5
50/50
All right but not worth the worldwide success it received. In dire need of a proper editor (syntax and repetition). Lire la suite
Publié il y a 2 mois par Olibria
4.0 étoiles sur 5
TB
très bon état, je vais le lire avec plaisir et le faire passer à mes amies toutes aussi impatiente de lire.
Publié il y a 2 mois par Bernier Annie
5.0 étoiles sur 5
Une fin magistrale pour la trilogie
Un troisième volume qui soutient la comparaison avec les deux premiers, un immense succès et un très grand plaisir de lecture, j'espère d'autres titres... Lire la suite
Publié il y a 2 mois par Noëlle
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