“No human relation gives possession in another – every two souls are absolutely different. In friendship or in love, the two side by side raise hands together to find what one cannot reach alone.” ~ Khalil Gibran

On Dublin Street by Samantha Young is a scorching, emotional rollercoaster that pulls no punches. This book is the very definition of a “hot emotional mess,” brimming with heartache, hope, and sizzling tension. The romance here is intense and heart-wrenching, but it does not feel rushed or superficial. Ms. Young manages to capture the complexity of love and healing in a way that is raw, real, and undeniably moving which made this the five-star read it was.

On Dublin Street is evocative and character-driven in a way that perfectly captures the push and pull factor when it comes to personal demons, passion, and vulnerability between the main protagonists. Set in the heart of Edinburgh, the story centers on Jocelyn Butler, a guarded 22-year-old American woman who moves to Scotland to bury her past and escape the loss and pain that haunts her. But the past, as always, has a way of catching up, especially when Jocelyn meets the irresistible Braden Carmichael, a 30-year-old alpha hero whose magnetic presence draws her in despite her best efforts.

Braden is the kind of male protagonist that epitomizes the confident, sexy, bold, and determined hero. His deep attraction to Jocelyn from the start is undeniable and he refuses to accept her “no-strings” policy, igniting a power struggle between his relentless pursuit and the walls of iron that she has painstakingly built around her. Braden’s patient determination and unwavering pursuit set the pages ablaze, making him the kind of hero who is impossible not to fall for. He’s hot, hot, and hot; that classic mix of charm, intensity, and unexpected vulnerability, making me fall for him, hook, line, and sinker.

Jocelyn, or Joss, is a mess in her own right, struggling with PTSD after a traumatic event shattered her world years prior, leaving her walls sky-high and nearly impenetrable. The layers to Joss’s pain and her self-imposed isolation feel intensely real, making her a character who is easy to empathize with, even when she is frustratingly stubborn. Her journey towards healing is not glossed over or magically “fixed” by love; instead, Ms. Young’s sensitive approach sees Joss beginning therapy, a much-needed lifeline that helps her face the pain she has carried alone for so long. The story line does not treat her PTSD lightly, making her growth both believable and meaningful, especially as her connection with Braden deepens.

As their relationship develops, so too does the tension between them. The chemistry between Jocelyn and Braden is nothing short of electric, with each encounter intensifying their connection and blurring the lines of the boundaries Jocelyn tries so hard to keep intact. The Carmichaels—Braden and his family—break through Joss’s defenses in a way nothing else has in the past eight years. Braden’s relentless support and fierce love become the balm she didn’t know she needed, while the warmth of his family helps her feel something akin to the home she lost years back.

On Dubling Street does a marvelous job of drawing readers in, as the debut book in the series. Ms. Young’s prose is smooth, witty, and deeply emotional, pulling readers into the heart of Edinburgh with vibrant scene-setting and a keen eye for the subtleties of human connection. The supporting characters add richness to the narrative, providing moments of humor, insight, and warmth that enhances the main story line without detracting from Jocelyn and Braden’s journey​

Ms. Young’s writing has an addictive quality that makes you feel as if you are hurtling towards an emotional wreckage from which you will never emerge the same. The romance is steeped in passion, pain, and powerful moments that left me breathless and definitely wanting more. This isn’t just a romance; it is a story about healing, letting go, and the bravery it takes to trust someone with your heart, especially as you continue to struggle with the demons of your past.

On Dublin Street is for those who love an emotional journey with complex characters, scorching hot chemistry, and a romance that is as heartbreaking as it is beautiful. This book is an unforgettable experience that will make you laugh, cry, and feel as if you have lived every moment with Joss and Braden.

Definitely recommended. Ms. Young’s remarkable talent shines through with the turn of every page!

Final Verdict: A scorching, beautifully messy journey of love and healing, On Dublin Street pulls you in with its raw emotion, unforgettable characters, and searing chemistry giving readers a most satisfying read.

Favorite Quotes

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Jocelyn. It was just a compliment.”
No it wasn’t. You’re playing games with me. And if we’re going to be around each other all the time, I want it to stop. “Was it? Do you talk to everyone the way you talk to me?”
“And what way is that?”
“Like you’ve seen me naked.”
Grinning, Braden’s eyes glittered with heat. “No. But then I haven’t seen everyone naked.”
Frustrated, I shook my head. “You know what I mean.”
I almost jumped at the warm whisper of his breath on my ear as he leaned down to murmur quietly into it, “I like the reaction I get out of you.”

His eyes narrowed. “I said, I don’t like to share.”
I thought of Vicky. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”
“Let me rephrase.” He took a seething step toward me. “When it comes to you… I don’t like to share.”
There was no time to process that. One minute I was staring incredulously up at him, the next the soda can was hitting the floor and my ass was on the desk as Braden collided with me. The heat and strength of him overwhelmed me as his large hand gripped the back of my neck and his other tugged my left thigh up, allowing him to push in between my legs and position me over the desk. His mouth crashed down on mine and the desire my body had been harboring for him for weeks took control of me. I clung to him, my hands digging into his back, my legs climbing his hips as my lips parted on an exhalation of relief that allowed his tongue inside my mouth to tease mine. The smell of him, the taste of whisky on his tongue, the feel of his warm hands gripping me tight it… it all overpowered me and I made this throaty sound I couldn’t control.

“I’m having a problem with a few suppliers on this development and it put us back a few weeks. I don’t know when I’ll be free this week, but I guarantee the moment I get some time, I’m coming to see you.”
“Braden, don’t do that.”
“After last night, there’s no denying the promise of what’s between us. I’m not backing off, so rather than coming up with a new defense – which I’m sure I’d find highly entertaining – just give in, babe. You know you’re going to eventually.”
“Have I mentioned how annoying and arrogant you are?”
“I can still smell and taste you, Jocelyn. And I’m still fucking hard.”
My stomach flipped and I squeezed my legs together. “God, Braden…” I breathed without thinking.
“I can’t wait to hear you say that while I’m inside you. See you, babe.”
And after that parting line, he hung up.
I groaned, my head falling back against the tub.
I was so screwed.

He shook his head, enjoying himself. “You’ve got great legs, Jocelyn. An amazing smile when you use it on occasion. And fantastic tits. And yeah, I usually date blondes. But you’re a blonde. I think.” He laughed when my glower turned full on glare. “Doesn’t matter about the color. You never wear it down, and I can’t get the thought of you beneath me, and that hair spread out across my pillow while I move inside you, out of my head.”
Oh. God.
“But I think mostly it’s your eyes. I want something from them no one else gets from them.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, my voice low, almost hoarse. His words had affected me as deeply as any aphrodisiac.
“Soft.” His own voice had deepened with the highly sexual atmosphere. “Soft the way only a woman’s can be after she’s come for me.”

“Then I guess we’re good to go.”
The words were barely out of my mouth before Braden was standing above me, his large hand reaching out for mine, his face determined, serious. His eyes blazing.
“What? Now?” I squeaked, totally unprepared.
He cocked an eyebrow. “You want to wait?”
“I just… I thought I’d have time to get ready.”
“Get ready?”
“You know… perfume, nice lingerie…”
With a grunt of amusement, Braden took hold of my wrist and hauled me out of my chair. My small body slammed into his and his arms came instantly around me, holding me to him. A hand slid down my hip and around to my butt. He squeezed it lightly and pressed me against him, his erection hard against my belly. I stifled a moan, tilting my head back to meet his eyes. They glittered down at me. “Babe, nice lingerie is for seducing a man. I’m already fucking seduced.”

His eyes drifted from my chest to my face and suddenly he looked a little angry. I stiffened in surprise. “Do you know what it’s been like for me since that day in the flat? Sitting across from you in bars, at dinner, knowing that underneath all the attitude is every man’s fucking fantasy.”
Oh, he was good.
His eyes narrowed as he reached for the buttons and zip on his suit pants. The zip slid down loudly. “I’m going to make you pay for making me wait to have you.”

“Braden,” I growled impatiently.
This only made him laugh. “What, babe?”
“If you don’t hurry up, I’m backing out.”
“Well we can’t have that.” He thrust hard inside me and I whimpered, stiffening at the flinch of discomfort I felt as my body struggled to accept his size.
Braden’s whole body tensed, his eyes dark on me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, exhaling as my body relaxed around him.
His grip on my wrists loosened, but he didn’t let me go. Instead he nudged forward tentatively, his jaw locking, his eyes closing as if he was in pain. “Jesus, Jocelyn,” he breathed hoarsely. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He lifted his head, his hand gliding between my legs. Pleasure shot through me as two fingers slipped inside me. “So wet,” he murmured, eyes bright. “Tomorrow after family dinner you’re coming back to my place and I’m going to fuck you in every room, in every way I can.”
My eyes flew to his, my chest rising and falling rapidly at his words.
“I’m going to make you scream there since you can’t here,” he promised softly, realizing this was also a reminder to be quiet since Ellie was down the hall. “But right now, I’m going to enjoy watching you bite your lip.”
And I did. He pushed inside of me and I swallowed a cry by biting my lip, holding on for dear life as his earlier, slow gentleness disappeared, his groans and grunts against my neck sexy as hell as he pounded me into orgasm.

I shivered as Braden continued to caress me, his fingers sliding down the crease of my backside and then entering me from behind. I moaned, arching back into him as he pulled his fingers out and then slid them back in. “Braden.”
He withdrew only to clasp me by the hips and press me back against him, his erection digging into my backside since I still had on the heels. “That’s all it takes to make me hard,” he told me softly, his lips brushing my ear. “You: saying my name.”

That’s when his slow, torturous control really snapped. I was tugged towards him as he moved back towards the door where a high side cabinet was positioned against the wall, and then I was spun around, pushed none-too-gently into it, his front at my back. My breath was coming out in frantic puffs now as I gripped hold of the unit. Braden’s hands came around to squeeze my breasts, forcing my body back into his as his tongue flicked my ear. “I’m going to take you like this. It’s going to be hard, Jocelyn, hard and rough. You ready?”
I nodded, my heart spluttering a little.
My panties were gone, whipped down my legs and I stepped out of them, kicking them to the side. The heat of him at my back, the sound of the zipper on his pants sliding down, sent a bolt of pure lust through my sex and my nails dug into the cabinet with anticipation.

With an animalistic growl I didn’t even know I was capable of, I threw my body towards his, my hands out as I shoved at him with enough might to make him stumble. Suddenly it was all there in my gut, the last six months of emotional upheaval, the dramatic changes he’d brought into my life—the uncertainty, the jealousy, the heartache. “I hate you!” I yelled, the words tumbling out of my mouth with a mind of their own. I spun away from him. “I was fine until you!” My eyes started to sting as I stared back at his stony face. “Why?” My voice broke, as the tears spilled down my cheeks. “I was fine. I was safe and I was fine. I’m broken, Braden. Stop trying to fix me and just let me be broken!”
He shook his head slowly, his own eyes bright, and I stood frozen as he came to me. I closed my eyes at his touch, his hands wrapping around my arms to tug me close to him.
“You are not broken.”
My eyelashes fluttered open and I stared up into his beautiful face, his anguished beautiful face. “Yes I am.”
He gave me an angry shake now. “No, you’re not.” He leaned his face into mine and I found myself caught in his pale blue eyes, mesmerized by the glitter of silver striations in them. “Jocelyn, you’re not broken, baby,” he whispered hoarsely, his eyes pleading with me. “You’ve got a few cracks in you, but we all have some.”

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