Sandra Brown has long been one of those authors whose books I can usually pick up with complete confidence. Her blend of romance and suspense has produced some truly unforgettable reads over the years, so I went into Bloodlust expecting another edge-of-your-seat experience. The opening certainly promised exactly that. It throws readers straight into a dark world of revenge, drug cartels, and long-buried secrets, immediately setting an ominous tone that had me eager to discover where the story was headed. Unfortunately, while the premise remained compelling, the execution never quite reached the heights I have come to associate with Sandra Brown.

The story follows Detective Mitch Haskell, a man who has spent the last two years consumed by grief following the brutal murder of his wife. His relentless pursuit of those responsible has left him emotionally isolated, self-destructive, and teetering on the edge professionally and otherwise. Forced into therapy after one reckless decision too many, he finds himself sitting across from psychologist Dr. Dylan Reede. Dylan is carrying emotional scars of her own, making these sessions far more layered than either of them expects. Their relationship develops under circumstances where professional boundaries, unresolved trauma, and undeniable attraction constantly threaten to collide.

As Mitch inches closer to identifying the elusive mastermind behind his wife’s murder, Dylan unexpectedly finds herself connected to the investigation in ways neither of them could have anticipated. With dangerous criminals closing in and trust becoming increasingly difficult to place, the story shifts between romance and suspense, weaving together psychological tension with the hunt for a ruthless criminal network. The stakes remain high throughout, even if the mystery itself never quite delivered the shock value I was hoping for.

There were certainly things I enjoyed. Sandra Brown knows how to write compelling openings, and the novel wastes no time drawing readers into its world. Roland Malone, in particular, was an interesting contradiction—a cold-blooded killer who nevertheless lives in fear of eternal damnation because of his deeply ingrained religious upbringing. That irony alone made him one of the more memorable characters in the book.

Where the novel lost me, however, was in its predictability. Fairly early on, I found myself questioning certain aspects of Mitch’s character, and those suspicions ended up leading me to correctly anticipate much of where the plot was heading. Instead of gradually unraveling into one surprising revelation after another, the mystery felt more straightforward than expected.

I also never found myself truly invested in either Mitch or Dylan as individuals. Mitch often felt emotionally distant throughout the novel, perhaps intentionally so because of the facade he maintained while pursuing his wife’s killer, but it also made it difficult to fully connect with him. Dylan, despite her compassionate profession, similarly never developed into a heroine I found particularly memorable. The romance, while present, lacked the emotional intensity that usually elevates Sandra Brown’s stories for me.

I also could not help but compare this to my previous experience with the series. I never managed to finish the first book, despite a couple of attempts, and after reading Bloodlust, I think I have finally figured out why. While the books certainly have all the ingredients I normally enjoy; romantic suspense, damaged protagonists, dangerous villains, they simply never captured me the way Sandra Brown’s best novels always do. The familiar formula perhaps has become a little too easy to predict, and by the end I found myself appreciating the story more than actually loving it.

Recommended for: Readers who enjoy romantic suspense with emotionally wounded protagonists, police investigations, and slow-burn romance, especially long-time Sandra Brown fans looking to continue the Blood series.

Final Verdict: While Bloodlust carries flashes of classic Sandra Brown with a start that had tremendous promise, it ultimately settled into a suspense romance that felt more predictable than gripping.

Favorite Quotes

Outside, the air was soft and humid, but there was a breeze light enough to be comfortable, yet strong enough to discourage mosquitoes. A half moon was rising. Venus shone brightly. As they walked side by side toward their cars, Mitch reached for her hand.
She tried to take it back. “What are you doing?”
“Just seems like a time to hold hands.”
“You and I can’t hold hands.”
“Okay.” He let go of her hand, then hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her beneath the eaves of the building. “How about this?”
He drew her close and nuzzled her behind the ear, even as he reached back and removed the band from around her ponytail, freeing her hair to fall past her shoulders front and back. His breath fanned her ear, causing her tummy to rise and fall like a bouncing balloon.
“Mitch.” She pushed against his chest and had the fleeting thought: I wonder where his tats are? The exotic possibilities that came to mind shamed her, but inflamed her imagination. “Please stop this,” she said, unsure if she was addressing him or herself.

“I want to keep going with this more than I want to keep breathing. But not if you’re going to beat yourself up over it afterward.”
“I won’t. I’ve already crossed the line.”
“When we kissed outside the café?”
She shook her head to the extent that his cradling hands would allow. “When I walked into the waiting room and saw you standing there.”
He exhaled a sound of disbelief and looked at her as though waiting for her to qualify the statement in some way, then, realizing that she wasn’t going to, he gathered her to him and hugged her tightly.
“Careful,” she said, “you’ll open your wound.”
“That won’t kill me. But I’m going to die if we don’t finish what we’ve started here.”

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