Read with: iBooks for iPad
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Denton Carter
Heroine: Bellamy Lyston Price
Date of Publication: September 18, 2013
Started On: December 24, 2015
Finished On: December 26, 2015
I have been putting off reading some of the standalone romantic suspense titles by Sandra Brown that had been published of late because some readers have attested to the fact that some of the titles were pure suspense with very little romance in them. Though I love a thriller every now and then, I need my dose of romance in novels to satisfy the closeted romantic deep inside of me. Which is why Low Pressure proved to be such a delicious surprise because the romance between Bellamy Lyston Price and Denton Carter burned hot and bright and as a reader I couldn’t have asked for more.
Bellamy comes from old money, one that had afforded her a cushiony lifestyle though she is not one to rely on that to get by. It is publication of Bellamy’s novel Low Pressure, a fictionalized version of a true story that involves not just Bellamy’s family, but that of many a person who would rather not see the truth of that particular incident come to light that kick starts the story. When Bellamy starts receiving threatening messages, she returns to her hometown where she runs into none other than Denton Carter, the man who had starred in her adolescent dreams, her sister Susan’s boyfriend when she had been murdered and left in the cold in such a brutalized fashion.
Denton is a man who lives with no commitments to his name. Drowning his demons in the bottle and cheap women, sometimes both, Denton chooses to live as he does because nothing apart from flying gives him joy in life. That is until Bellamy and her book Low Pressure stirs up the ugly memories once again, bringing the chip on Denton’s shoulder to the forefront where Bellamy and her family are concerned. However, when both Bellamy and Denton come under fire from an unknown assailant who seems hellbent on revenge, it makes Denton take a second look at Bellamy and her book, which means he gets enticed into looking deeper into the incidents that had unfolded on that fateful day. The deeper Bellamy and Denton dig, the more confusion it throws on the events that had taken place, until it all comes to head in one breathtaking conclusion that brought a twist that at first I never saw coming.
Sandra Brown is a legendary figure in the writing circles because she creates stories that makes you sink your teeth into them and enjoy every morsel of it and in the end leaves you begging for more. Her heroes and heroines are characters you root for – never perfect, but flawed and human. Her heroes are especially drool worthy; I kid you not. Sandra Brown creates heroes of the variety that you can’t help but sigh and moon over and Denton was no exception to this rule. They are earthy, sexy, dominant and very alpha and they deliver that sizzle factor to the novel from start to the very end. Denton’s playful nature in particular, got to me. Most of the time, Sandra’s heroes tend to be on the more serious side and Denton was a refreshing change in that regard.
Low Pressure’s mystery was one that was well done. I loved the twists and turns it took to take me to its ultimate conclusion, leaving me in awe once again to the sheer talent that are authors like Sandra Brown. This story in fact reminded me a little of a novel I read, loved and reviewed recently, Into the Waning Light by Loreth Anne White. There were certain similarities to the concept of the plot though the two stories couldn’t be any more different in the way they were delivered. Needless to say, I loved both these stories and cannot recommend both enough!
A truly masterful storyteller is one that can lull you into thinking that you know where the story is going to be headed. But then bam! Low Pressure made me sympathize and empathize with the “villain” when all was said and done because I could understand where the character was coming from. It is human tendency to paint the dead in a more favorable light than people would view the person when they were alive. That plays a role in Low Pressure as well, with Sandra Brown dealing tactfully and honestly in stripping away the misconception.
Highly recommended for fans of romantic suspense!
Final Verdict: Low Pressure is a book that would cause you many a sleepless night. You will never see it coming!
As a virginal preteen, and as a woman who’d taken lovers, she had daydreamed about kissing Denton Carter. While writing her book, specifically the sex scenes between him and Susan, it hadn’t been her sister he was kissing, caressing, and taking with adolescent fervor. It had been her. The fantasies had left her aroused, but irritated with herself. Surely her imagination embellished how good lovemaking with him would be.
But now she realized that her daydreams had actually been tepid. His kiss was delicious and darkly erotic. It delivered. It promised more. And the substance of what it promised made her wet, feverish, and needy.
“This visit with Steven could be awkward. It won’t help if you’re pouting over what happened, or didn’t happen, last night. There. It’s out. Let’s not make it an unsightly wart that’s there but no one acknowledges.”
“Don’t sweat it, A.k.a. I asked, you—”
“Funny. I don’t recall you asking.”
“Maybe not in so many words, but, just FYI, in a crotch-grinding embrace, when a man’s got his tongue in your mouth and his hand on your ass, it’s a pretty safe bet on what he has in mind. I asked, you said no.”
“You could fly corporate jets.”
He waited for a moment, then, acting on impulse, reached across the distance separating them. He slipped his hand beneath her shirt and curled his fingers inside the waistband of her jeans. Pulling her out of the chair and toward him, he said, “Buy one. I’ll fly you.”
Positioning her between his thighs, he pushed up the hem of her shirt, undid the button on her jeans, and spread open the two ends of the waistband with his thumbs.
“Dent . . .”
“We related on your level, Bellamy. It’s time we came down to mine.”
Then he pressed his open mouth against that wedge of pale, smooth skin.
Then his eyes turned dark. Because she had touched him. At first just a few tentative brushes with her fingers, to indulge her curiosity about the various textures, but, encouraged by his unsteady breathing and that smokiness in his eyes, she took him in her hand. Guided by his gruff whispers, and instinct, she pumped him until he grew incredibly tight. Hot breaths struck her hair as he bent his head over hers and groaned her name.
A drop of moisture leaked from the tip. She took it on her thumb, sucked it off, and pressed her thumb against the center of her lower lip, which he’d told her was sexy. Raspily, he said, “Disappointed, my ass,” then covered her mouth in a fierce kiss that left her mindless.
He sank into her a little deeper and her throat arched up. “That feels amazing.”
“To me, too.”
“But you haven’t . . .”
“Because you were drifting in euphoria. And I want you to remember this. With perfect clarity.”
She touched his rough cheek. “I could never forget this.”
“Only because you had to work so hard for it.”
“Nope. Because you’re so damn beautiful.”
A second later, he was sheathed completely, his fingers were entangled in her hair, and his breathing was loud and ragged against her neck. Sliding his hands under her ass, he tilted her up and pushed into her as deep as he could possibly go.
“Jesus, Bellamy.” He hoped that with that guttural moan he’d made her understand just how tight and hot and incredible she felt.
Because when he began to move, he was quickly lost.
He watched the lips of her sex close around it, then looked into her eyes as he began to stroke her with a circular motion that caused her body to quicken and involuntarily thrust against his thumb. Tilting her face toward the ceiling, she closed her eyes and lost herself to the sensations.
Without inhibition, she gave over to her impulses, moved as her body was dictating, and allowed herself to be governed strictly by her senses. She heard Dent’s hiss of pleasure, felt the fervent, wet tug of his mouth on her nipple, the flicking of his tongue in concert with his thumb’s caresses.
She arched her back and cried out his name.