Review: Reckless by Anne Stuart

Format: E-bookReckless
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: The House of Rohan, #2
Publisher: Mira
Hero: Adrian Alistair de Giverney Rohan
Heroine: Charlotte Spenser
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: September 1, 2010
Started On: February 26, 2014
Finished On: March 2, 2014

Reckless by Anne Stuart is book number two in the delectable House of Rohan series. Just like the ICE series that grabbed me hook, line and sinker, the House of Rohan series too has wormed its way into my heart and its characters practically embedded themselves deep into my soul. There is no escaping the mastery that Anne Stuart weaves with every single story she writes, and even her lackluster ones continue to enthrall me in a way few authors have the power to.

Reckless tells the story of the son of Francis and Elinor from the first book Ruthless. While Viscount Rohan i.e. Adrian is known for his indulging ways and debauchery, I would say he is not in the league of the likes of his father when all is said and done. Adrian is a rebel, one who refuses to do what is required of him and settle down like his mother wants him to. Adrian hardly believes that the sort of love that his father and mother share could be found for the likes of him. However, that doesn’t stop him from pursuing the delight Miss Charlotte Spenser, the 30 year old spinster presents to his senses, even when it makes him act in ways that is totally foreign to someone like him.

Charlotte knows what little she has to offer to any man, much less a man of Adrian’s caliber and pedigree. But that doesn’t stop her from wanting him, wanting his kisses on her mouth, his hands on her body and his reckless abandonment to match hers whenever they are together. Charlotte keeps telling herself that a man like Viscount Rohan could never find a plain thing like her interesting on any level, but his relentless pursuit of her to seek a pleasure too powerful to deny sends all her senses reeling and turns her safe and staid world upside down.

I would say Reckless features a story that could actually be interpreted as quite sweet compared to the rest of the novels in the series. More than the darkness that prevails the soul of Adrian, it is the evil that surrounds him that puts the edge of your seat factor to this novel, the fact that one of those closest to Adrian is actually the one who wants to take away his life and destroy the very things that he holds dear to his heart.

Accompanying the story of the fiery and sensual love affair that develops between the highly experienced Adrian and the virginal Charlotte, is the secondary romance of Evangelina, dowager countess of Whitmore, and the fascination that she develops for a Reverend Simon Pagett. Elinor’s character is one that proved to be completely riveting. Her ‘role’ in pushing Charlotte into Adrian’s arms when she had wanted just the exact opposite to happen, her past that mires her disdain towards the opposite sex and how hard she tries to prove to people otherwise, and the oh so delicious temptation to her heart, body and soul that Simon presents was an edge to Reckless that made it all that much more powerful to me. I was equally enamored by the two stories that unfolded, both entwining along the way, lending a deliciousness and depth to Reckless that makes it my favorite novel from the series up till now.

Reckless is a story that flows smoothly, the banter between both characters in the leading and secondary romances highlighting just how much the sarcastic wit that is included into Anne Stuart novels speaks to my heart. And in fact it does, sarcasm when rightly done, it speaks to my soul like poetry and at times reveals a lot more than the character thinks themselves to be revealing. And I couldn’t have asked for more in that regard in this novel. The only thing that disappointed me, just a teeny bit, was the culmination of Elinor and Simon’s love story; I would have loved to see just a tad more of their attainment of happily ever after towards the end.

I would say Reckless is a romance for everyone who loves historical romances. Even if you haven’t read book 1, there is no need to worry. This one would read like a charm as a standalone. But, the tidbits about Adrian’s parents that are intermingled into the story along the way certainly put a smile on my face and is one you would miss out on if you weren’t to read book 1. And yes, prepare yourselves for a deluge of quotes with this one. I just couldn’t help myself.

Delightfully recommended.

Final Verdict: Reckless and decadent abandonment guaranteed with at the turn of each page!

Favorite Quotes

He lifted his head again. “Open your mouth for me.”
Her eyes flew open again. “Why?”
It was the first word she’d spoken in quite a while, but her voice was husky and raw as if she’d been screaming.
“Because I want to kiss you that way.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You need to let me—”
He covered her mouth again before she could say the fateful words, and he pushed his tongue into her mouth so he could taste her fully.

And he wanted more. He’d told himself that acceptance was enough, but he’d been wrong. He wanted, needed participation.
“Kiss me back,” he whispered, his own voice hoarse.
She started to shake her head, but he caught her chin in one strong hand, holding her still. “Kiss me back,” he repeated in a rough voice.
Her eyes were huge. In the darkness her rich red hair looked black, and she looked up at him beseechingly. Don’t ask me to let you go, he thought.
“I don’t…know how.”

He stretched, slowly, luxuriantly, like a sleepy cat. A tall, beautiful, elegant, sleepy cat. “You really have no idea what you’re turning down. I’m accounted to be one of the most accomplished lovers in society. No woman has ever left my bed unsatisfied, no woman has ever refused to return for more.”
“Then why don’t you get one of them in here?”
“Because I want you.”
That silenced her. The four simple words were devastating, both to body and soul.

No, she didn’t love him. She didn’t even know him, and his reputation was disreputable. But for some reason, sane, sensible, practical Charlotte Spenser had dreamed about the lost and beautiful viscount and his elegant hands, his bewitching mouth. And he was offering her all that beauty, and the lost soul that hid behind it.
Even in the darkness she could see his smile widen, the glitter of satisfaction in his bright, brilliant eyes. “Come to bed, Charlotte Spenser,” he said softly, his voice a soft, impossible invitation.
And she did.

Sanity was overrated, his cousin had said. She had to agree, because this was madness, and she wanted it. For a brief moment in time Adrian Rohan belonged to her, and nothing could ever take that away from her.
“Open your eyes, Charlotte.” His voice was rough, and she did so, expecting to see smug satisfaction on his face.
Instead he looked dark, tortured, his blue eyes black in the shadows.

“What are you doing?” she gasped as she clutched his shoulders, the white linen loose in her fingers.
“You want the pretty words, or the truth?” he whispered, leaning forward to brush his mouth against hers. “You’re being tupped, shagged, screwed—made love to.” Each phrase was punctuated with a thrust, and he was as breathless as she was. “In fact, Charlotte, you’re being fucked. It’s about this—” he thrust hard “—and this.” Another thrust and she could feel her nipples harden in the warm night air, feel the strange heat in the pit of her stomach begin to build and burn.

He reached down, caught his erect penis in his hand and guided it to her, then thrust, a little too hard, a little too fast, but she took it with only a faint cry. She was wet and sleek and welcoming, and he moved his head, dropping it down on her shoulder as he tried to control his breathing, his fierce need. He wanted to slam into her until he spewed, he was famished, greedy, ready to explode.

She was lost, defeated. Everything ached. Not that he’d been too rough. They’d made love gently, fiercely, with tenderness and with anger. She was bruised from his hard grip, he was raked by her nails, but the only thing he’d been brutal with was her heart.

It was astonishing. It was full-mouthed, seething with lust and abandon, and for a moment she froze. She’d been kissed like that before, and she knew all the tricks of a measured response. But those clever tricks evaporated, and she closed her eyes, sinking, sinking. He kissed her with a fierce hunger that shook her to her bones, a deep, carnal kiss that was more sexual than anything she’d done in her entire life.

He lifted his mouth for a brief moment, and in the darkness of the unlit carriage she could see the glitter of his eyes. “Open your mouth for me, Charlotte,” he whispered. “I’ve been waiting hours to kiss you and I’m running out of patience.”
Her shock was enough that she did as he told her, and his kiss was full and deep, a possessive hunger she felt vibrating through her body.

And she’d said yes. He didn’t bother to hide his astonishment. Though he could…ahem…rise to the occasion. “I beg your pardon? Was that agreement I hear? How delightfully refreshing. I thought you decided to regrow your hymen and be the same prissy, starched-up female you were before I put my wicked hands on you.”

“You’re quite surprisingly resilient, Miss Spenser. I would have expected you to go into a languishing decline after my rough treatment of you.”
“Was that rough?” she asked innocently. “It perhaps lacked a bit of finesse, but you managed well enough.”
He wanted to laugh, he wanted to kiss her. “I didn’t really consider you deserved my best effort, since you had absolutely no idea what you were doing.”
“Indeed. I would hope that wasn’t your best effort. I would be sadly disappointed if society considered that to be masterful.”

“Turn around, Charlotte.”
“W-why?”
“Because I want to unlace your dress.”
“Is that strictly necessary?”
He laughed against her throat. “Yes, it’s strictly necessary. I want to see you naked. I want to lick every inch of your body. Turn around.”

He moved forward, took the hem of the chemise and whipped it over her head with one smooth movement. And a second later, the drawstring to her drawers was loosened, and they fell to her feet, and she was wearing nothing at all but her stockings.
“Oh, God,” he said, a curse, a supplication, a prayer. He pushed her up against the door, just behind her, lifted her by her legs and thrust inside her, hard.

It seemed to last forever, his rigid outpouring that seemed to scald her very heart, her shivering, clenching, mindless release, and all she could think was more, more, more, and then suddenly it was enough, and they collapsed together onto the narrow, dusty bed.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | BookDepo | Kobo | ARe | iTunes

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ARC Review: Sempre by J.M. Darhower

Format: E-booksempre
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Forever Series, #1
Publisher: Pocket Books
Hero: Carmine Marcello DeMarco
Heroine: Haven Isadora
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: January 29, 2012
Started On: February 22, 2014
Finished On: February 26, 2014

Sempre is book 1 in the Forever Series by J. M. Darhower. The story begins when Haven Isadora is just seven years old, present at a “child auction” of sorts where no act of violence seems to be taboo for the people who hold several young girls captive. The opening act of this book is horrific in the sense that it opens up the world of modern day child slavery and the unspeakable acts these children are forced to perform in order to survive.

Story continues 10 years down the line, when Haven is “rescued” from the clutches that holds her a captive by a Dr. Vincent DeMarco who whisks her away to his home which marks the beginning of the sort of life that Haven has never dared to dream of for someone like herself. And when she comes across Vincent’s youngest son Carmine, the connection that forges between these two is instant and electrifying.

Carmine is the epitome of bad boy hero, angry and sullen at the world with a ton of attitude. Carmine exists by doing everything else but what is expected of him, partying and sleeping around just for the heck of it. Though Haven stirs his interest, Carmine finds it hard to tone down his abrasiveness which has been a part of him for so long. But as time goes on and a bond is forged between these two unlikely souls, there is no stopping the love that unfurls in their hearts.

Both Haven and Carmine have no idea what life has in store for them. With Carmine more or less destined to follow in his father’s footsteps by being “obliged” to belong to the Mafia family, it is a tough future that awaits both of them. Vincent was the hero in my eyes, the man who tries so hard to keep his children away from a life that is filled with treachery and one in which the soul is never ever free from the darkness that taints it once you become one of the Family.

Having never watched or read much on stories involving the Mafia though I had picked up bits and pieces on the lives they lead along the way, I don’t think I actually had any clue as to just how much power the head of the Family holds on the rest of the members. There is a “code of ethics” that the Family lives by, once crossed one has to face the dire consequences or die trying to flee from whats coming. Vincent was the truly enigmatic character in this novel that actually stirred my interest, the mix of Jekyll and Hyde in him making him one of the most contrasting characters I have come across of late. Vincent tries to do right by his children, though its far from easy. While one side of Vincent finds it as easy as breathing to give free reign to the ruthless killer in him, there is the other side that heals and saves lives, the one part of his life that gives him solace and peace to the soul, be it even for a little while. The fact that Vincent could look beyond the anger, hurt and pain of his past to take Haven under his care was something that deeply moved me.

While Haven’s character impressed me with her ability and strength to overcome the countless horrors she had been subjected to while growing up, Haven herself doesn’t know her true power in the hierarchy of the Family, a secret if found would be worth shedding the blood of the many the Family wouldn’t hesitate to take out. I liked Carmine’s character well enough, but I found his emotions to be all over the place, sometimes rightfully so. But in the maturity aspect, Haven wins hands down, not surprising given spoilt life Carmine had led till then. However, Carmine does turn himself around for the woman he loves more than his own life, a love that turns out to be the pivotal reason behind the basis of the next book in the series.

Though I am not wowed enough to pick up the second book, nevertheless, Sempre did provide me with an entertaining read, albeit a trifle bit of a long one, some pages of which I skipped as I reached towards the end of the book. Perhaps I am right in avoiding young adult romances, the few I have read haven’t really impressed me all that much. But if you are a lover of new adult romances with the interesting facet of being part of the Mafia thrown in, then I would recommend that you pick this up. It just might be what you’re looking for.

Final Verdict: An intriguing mix of romance & the politics that govern the lives of those indebted to the Mafia.

Favorite Quotes

Yanking her to him, he eagerly kissed her without another thought.
It was passionate and messy, seventeen years worth of kisses rolled into one stolen embrace. Haven kissed him back, her lips parting as they moved with his. Running her hand along the back of his head, she laced her fingers in the hair by his neck as she trembled, but whether from nerves or excitement, Carmine wasn’t sure.

Love was the fluttering in her tummy whenever Carmine was near, the twinkle in his eyes when he laughed, the heat in her body from his words. Love was happy. Love was safe. Love was green.
Love was him—the beautifully flawed boy who made her glow. He stared at her, those words hanging in the air between them.

“I didn’t hear you come out of your room.”
“You aren’t the only one who knows how to be quiet, Ninja.”
She replaced the book on the shelf. “Hmm, well, maybe we should get you a bell.”
“Hey, at least I don’t almost give you heart attacks. You used to startle the hell out of me. I thought for sure you’d need to give me CPR a few times.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Don’t be so sure. You make my heart race every time you come near me.”
He strolled over to where she stood and leaned down to kiss her. He nipped at her bottom lip as he pulled back, pressing his palm against her chest. “How’s the heart?”
“Feels like it’s going to explode.”

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | BookDepo | Kobo | ARe | iTunes

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ARC Review: The Place I Belong by Inez Kelley

Format: E-booktheplaceibelong
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Country Roads, #2
Publisher: Carina Press
Hero: Jonah Alcott
Heroine: Zureyden Castellano
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: February 24, 2014
Started On: February 21, 2014
Finished On: February 22, 2014

The Place I Belong is the wonderful second installment of Inez Kelley’s Country Roads series. While I enjoyed the first book in the series, i.e. Take Me Home, I flat-out loved what the second book in this series had to offer.

Jonah Alcott is the man responsible for the PR at Hawkins Hardwood, a lumbar company in West Virginia. Jonah is charming, persuasive and confident in his abilities and believes in the good that Hawkins Hardwood does in the industry. His latest foe turns out to be as vivacious as she is stubborn, a woman who drives him to distraction in every single way possible.

Zureyden Castellano (Zury) hates seeing the beloved land that she calls home castrated in the name of profits. Her fight to keep the wild beauty of the land intact is a personal one, one borne out of knowing early on in her childhood where exactly in this world she belonged. Butting heads with the altogether too sexy for his own good Jonah was supposed to be just that, proving her point and walking away with the rights of the Black Cherry Canyon taken from Hawkins Hardwood which would guarantee the land wouldn’t be despoiled by those who seem to see nothing but big fat wads of cash in profits that would be reaped from the land.

But as Jonah and Zury spends time together, both of them realize that under all the frustration that they both harbor in making the other see the light, lies a simmering attraction that surpasses anything they have ever felt before. While Jonah prefers his dalliances with the opposite sex commitment free, Zury is the type who would never be completely happy with a casual romp and someone who would always seek more from her relationships. But even with their different outlooks, Zury and Jonah find that turning away from the wild sexual energy and the connection forged between them is something neither is capable of doing.

As these two gravitate more and more towards each other, Hawkins Hardwood falls under the target of an Eco-terrorist group that believes no boundaries exist when it comes to ensuring that nature thrive, at any cost. Whether Jonah would be able to convince Zury of who the real bad guys are in time and salvage the connection that grows between them is the question as the man behind the group, who has got practically nothing to lose, closes in on his intended target, all in the name of saving Zury’s beloved land.

What made The Place I Belong stand out for me were the different threads in the story interwoven cleverly together to give a highly readable tale of undeniable passion, love and the sizzle of danger. Jonah is a hero that I adored from his altogether gorgeous frame, either suited up or in casuals; that one scene during which Zury practically inhales Jonah in all his suited up glory one that is etched on my mind even now. What you see is not what you get when you take in Jonah’s character. The darkness in his past is one that boils to the surface proving to Zury just how wrong she had been in assuming Jonah to be just another pretty face when they had first made acquaintance.

While Jonah deserves endless drooling sessions with his lethal frame reminding me of none other than Gabriel Aubrey, Zury turned out to be a swell heroine who earned my wholehearted love and approval. Zury is the type of woman who is passionate about what she believes in and works actively to protect what she is passionate about. The fact that she was woman enough to admit to her faulty thinking made me love her even more, and Zury standing up in defense of the man she loves was one of those moments that I could have hugged her myself.

The bit that I loved most when it came to Zury and Jonah turns out to be the fact that even with all their differences and the countless arguments that they get into with each other, they never seem to hurt each other with their words. That is admirable to me on so many levels, not many people can pull that off with such vast differences in thinking without ending up bitter about one thing or the other. Cannot wait for Webb’s story to come out later this year!

I would urge readers to take a look at The Place I Belong not because its just a fabulous romance, but because the story is so very much more than that and offers quite the fascinating character in Jonah. Definitely recommended.

Final Verdict:  Inez Kelley whips a tornado through your emotions with The Place I Belong, leaving no part of your heart untouched.

Favorite Quotes

It was over ninety degrees in the sun but his hands were far hotter as they skimmed over her stomach, up her rib cage, over the cups of her bra to palm one aching mound. A nip to her neck caused her to gasp his name, to draw his scent mingled with summer wind into her lungs. He licked under her jaw and dragged his mouth along her skin to her ear. “Tell me you want this.”
She wanted it. She wanted it so badly her heartbeat surged and the juncture between her thighs went hot and soft. It was wrong, complicated and potentially stupid, but she didn’t want him to stop.

All intelligent thought evaporated as his fingers rolled her stiffened nipple through the cup of her bra. “More.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” A shudder worked up his spine and he took her mouth with a frantic strength. Long firm fingers dug into her ass as he rocked her hips into his, into the hardness behind his zipper. Pure feminine power filled her. She traced her short nails down his back, delighting in his low groan. Rolling her hips pressed her center against his growing erection, and his groan turned to a hungry growl. Her body flushed, softening and growing damp.

“Is that all you needed?”
He’d spoken into the phone but his attention was firmly locked on her as she strolled toward him, swinging her hips with a deliberate rhythm. He froze, standing perfectly still as she worked the knot out of his tie. The silk whispered against his shirt as she tugged it free, looping it around her own neck. His chest rose more quickly, his warm breath feathering over her brow as she started slipping open the buttons of his vest. Tongue touching her lip, she raised her chin to look into his eyes. Another button slid free.

The flavor of his skin burst onto her tongue as she licked. The unique scent of him filled her nose and she nuzzled, drawing in more of that heady fragrance. Recognition clicked. Summer wind, he smelled of summer wind racing through the trees. It was so erotic, she let the tip of her nose circle just below his ear. A soft growl rumbled in his chest.

Beneath the broadcloth, she found the real man, the man she’d discovered in the cabin, all rigid muscle and harnessed passion. His chest hair prickled her cheek and nose but she couldn’t stop from nuzzling just above his solar plexus. Strong hands curled around her shoulders, pulling her closer, inviting more touch, more taste. Her nipples hardened and her breasts grew achy. An emptiness pulsed between her legs.

Her hands slid up his arms, clinging to his shoulders. One hand gripped the back of his hair, fisting it and forcing his kiss to deepen. Powerful arms wrapped around her, fitting her to his body. One huge palm skimmed down her back, over her hips, and palmed her ass. It forced her hips tighter to his and she wantonly rocked into him. His soft moan flavored the kiss. The tall grasses bent, cushioning them as he lowered her to the ground.

She wasn’t very busty but his look of pure reverence made her feel beautiful. One long lean finger stroked along the bottom curve then moved higher, circling the budded nipple. He repeated the motion with his tongue, flicking out with just the tip. A noise broke from her lips, hunger surging, and he sealed his sucking mouth around the crest.
White lights popped behind her eyelids as she melted into his caress. The crisp hair on his chest tickled against her belly as he moved to the other breast, kissing, nibbling, sucking, drawing her deeper into a haze of lust.

“That’s it. Open for me. Let me touch you.”
He didn’t know how open she was. More than her body lay exposed beneath him. Her heart and soul were bare and his for the taking. Words whispered from her mouth, every wrenching expression of love, every flowery vow and every hopeful longing spilled out. Just not in a language he understood. But it was enough for now. She had said them, unfettered and without fear.

“Oh God, Zury, you take me so good.”
One rough palm slid down her thigh to grip behind her knee. He raised her leg, bringing it along his hip. The slight change seated him deeper and she went wild. She raked his back and clutched at his shoulders, wanting, needing him closer, deeper. Jonah answered, ramming into her, retreating, returning with as much force. No civility softened his strokes. He was pure and raw and hungry and she loved it.

He moaned her name as his rhythm reached a frenetic tempo. A single chant circled her brain. Te amo. Te amo. Te amo. I love you. I love you. I love you.
An animalistic roar powered from him as he sank deeper than before and let go. He surged inside her, swelling and throbbing, and her body responded, shuddering in release. Together, they hung in the misty middle ground for ages, then drifted down as one.

She basked in a woman’s power to enthrall. “Right now, who do you belong to?”
His wet hair was mussed, framing his eyes with jagged edges. A wild, feral hunger carved his face into sharp lines and his fingertips bit deliciously into her hips. “You. I belong to you.”
She took no mercy, sinking downward in one swift lunge. His mouth fell open, his fingertips digging hard into her skin as his belly clenched.

Prickly chest hairs chafed her back as he brought his mouth to her nape. He tugged her hips up then sank inside, the force driving her into the mattress. “Now, you belong to me. Say my name.”
“Yes. Yours, Jonah. Harder.” She spread her legs and arched her hips, opening her body to him, pushing back into his every thrust. His hips slapped the flesh of her ass with a punishing rhythm. Sliding his hands down her arms, he laced their fingers and rocked.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Carina | ARe

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ARC Review: The Darkest Joy by Marata Eros

Format: E-bookthedarkestjoy
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: New Adult Contemporary
Series: The Darkest Joy, #1
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Hero: Chance Taylor
Heroine: Brooke Elizabeth Starr
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: February 18, 2014
Started On: February 17, 2014
Finished On: February 21, 2014

The Darkest Joy is my second novel by Marata Eros. I absolutely loved what she brought to the table with her novel A Terrible Love, a story that I adored on so many levels. With that in mind, I requested for a galley of The Darkest Joy from netgalley, its premise and setting one that intrigued me when I read the blurb. And everything seemed to go really well, especially with the opening chapter introducing the reader to a wealth of horror when Brooke’s family is slaughtered while she listens in on as the whole nightmare unfolds.

Five months later, the investigation into the brutal killing behind her family’s death still remains to be solved and Brooke is running, running from the darkness of the memories and the guilt that threatens to swallow her as a whole. Moving to Homer, Alaska seems to be a farthest that she can go to bury herself under the cloak of anonymity, where no one would ask her the pressing questions which she needs to get away from, questions that haunt and plague her even as she flees the guilt ravaging her heart and soul.

When Brooke meets her employer Chance Taylor, it is at first the music he strums effortlessly from his guitar that pierces her to her very soul, reaching deep into the frozen cold that has protected her from her baser emotions for the past couple of months. Leaving her prospective future as a pianist, one who has had a future at the Juilliard well behind her had seemed like a wise choice up till the moment Chance invades her soul and etches a place for himself in her heart.

Chance is the love and leave them type personified, his one true and only love being the sea, the passion for which is satisfied by his occupation as a deep sea fisherman. But the minute Brooke enters the picture, everything Chance has believed in up till then ceases to exist until all he can think, feel and want is Brooke in every single way he can have her. But Brooke’s fear and guilt for a past that cannot be changed, together with a killer that seems to be nowhere near to stopping the litter of bodies that keep mounting proves to be the obstacle that seems to stand in the way of the joy that could be theirs if only Brooke were willing to make peace with the past and move on.

The Darkest Joy is a story that disappointed me on many levels. The opening chapter was the only good thing about this novel, the level of detail that went on to showcase Brooke’s life in Alaska in the chapters that followed sometimes getting so tedious to the point that I skim read large chunks of the novel to pick out the story that should have flowed smoothly otherwise. I found the whole thing with Brooke denying herself the closure that was required, especially turning her back on the authorities trying their hardest to keep her up to date on the developments of the case unbelievable at times. I can understand survivor’s guilt, the fact that someone might want to bury themselves right in the ground with their loved ones when tragedy strikes, but I couldn’t understand Brooke not being moved enough to actually WANT to seek justice for the death of her entire family.

I found Chance to be at odds with what his character was portrayed to be at the beginning of the story. Having lived practically most of his life in Homer, Alaska, everyone who knows him attests to his love em’ and leave em’ lifestyle. But throughout the story, Chance seemed too besotted with Brooke to really live up to any of the traits revealed to be the background of his character. I can understand a man changing for the right woman though it seldom happens in real life, but going against every single facet of his character for Brooke that soon just seemed highly unlikely to me.

When the villain was finally revealed, the surprise came from the fact that it all seemed so hard to take in, the fact that there seemed to be several gaps missing in the tale of how the villain had come to be as portrayed in the story. I believe that the novel could have done away with more than half the story and added more relevant chapters to keep the story flowing in a direction that would have captivated the reader rather than just portraying the sense of guilt that plagues Brooke, keeping her bound with an inability to let go and move on.

The only thing positive for me about the novel was the at times beautiful writing that came to light in bits and pieces as the story progressed. The Marata Eros I remember from my one single experience with her prose is one who writes beautifully well and reaches deep into your heart to invoke emotions that cannot be otherwise. And that was practically the only thing that kept me turning the pages even when I wanted to give up and label this a DNF. But all that being said, you just might find this to be your cup of tea while it didn’t meet any or all of my expectations when I picked it up. Recommended for fans of the author and fans of new adult romances.

Favorite Quotes

But those eyes, those haunted eyes, they’re burned into my brain. Her sadness has caught me like the fish I net. I’ve hit her hook without even knowing I’m in the ocean; saving her has reeled me in inextricably.
And I don’t even know her name.

He looks up and our gazes meet. Chance Taylor steals my breath. His open smile melts me.
I walk toward him.
It feels like a death march.

I feel the tip of him at my entrance, and his knees split my legs farther apart even as he enters me slowly, each hot inch sinking deeper, and I let out a hoarse cry, pressing myself back against him. My hips rise and he puts a staying hand on the back of my head and the other at the small of my back, pinning me in place, and I whimper in surrender.

Then he’s fully inside me with a single thrust and I scream my pleasure into his quiet house, absorbed by all that wood and I come until I can’t breathe. The pulses of my orgasm radiate through my tingling body and wash over Chance, grabbing at him as he grows impossibly harder, his own release crashes into him as he pours himself into me.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | BookDepo

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Review: Hidden Honor by Anne Stuart

Format: E-bookhiddenhonor
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: MIRA
Hero: Peter de Montselm
Heroine: Elizabeth of Bredon
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: August 1, 2004
Started On: February 7, 2014
Finished On: February 11, 2014

“… he was a man who embraced pain as a means to salvation …”

Sometimes I wonder what it is that I am going to do when I run out of books by Anne Stuart to fall back on when I run into that “dry spot” in my reading where nothing seems to please me, except for the ruthless brand of heroes that only Anne Stuart seems to be able to get away with publishing.

Hidden Honor is going to be a difficult novel to review without giving away spoilers. As the title denotes, there are hidden elements to the story that makes it the enticing read it is. Hidden Honor tells the story of 17 year old Elizabeth who has made up her mind that her future lies at the Shrine of Saint Anne where she is going to devote her life to serving God. Life has taught Elizabeth to be totally unimpressed by what men and their kind have to offer and she can’t wait to leave home and embrace the future that awaits her.

Tall, skinny and red haired with pale skin to match, Elizabeth has lived her whole life believing herself to hold no qualities that would entice any man, much less the Prince of England to take notice of her. If only she didn’t have to travel with him to her destination, him seeking penance for all the vile acts some of which had ended in deaths if rumors about him were to be believed. But the minute Elizabeth meets the Prince, its as if a different woman buds to life inside of her, a woman who wants to touch, to seek, be held and do all those things with a man that Elizabeth had never dared to even dream of before.

Peter is a man who has a tormented soul that seeks penance and atonement for the sins that he has committed in the past. The temptation that someone like Elizabeth offers is something at first that he cannot accept and something he finds that he cannot resist either, no matter however much he tries. And when murder and mayhem comes seeking the small procession making its way towards the Shrine of Saint Anne, Peter finds himself in a position that makes it impossible for both him and Elizabeth to resist the fire that burns hotter and brighter with each passing moment in each others company.

Going hand in hand with Elizabeth and Peter’s story is a secondary romance that blooms into life that gives the story a sweet edge to it and a respite from the whirlwind of emotions that Elizabeth and Peter’s love gives the reader. Peter is the quintessential Anne Stuart hero, albeit a bit toned down from her most ruthless version of heroes to be found in her ICE series. I loved Peter; of course its hard not to fall in love with the lean, lethal and uber hot heroes that only Anne Stuart can create. A tad ruthless and a whole lot of reluctant to have anything to do with Elizabeth apart from protecting her is what Peter is all about and that made for a delicious combination.

Elizabeth made for a good match for Peter. A bit naive when it comes to the affairs between men and women, Elizabeth is worldly in almost every other aspect of life having had to look out for herself while growing up. Her desire to belong to the convent stems from her need to belong, something that had sorely lacked in her life up till that point. The minute that Peter comes into her life however, she begins to question her lifelong dream of joining the convent, a life that looks more and more unsuited for someone of her temperament.

The only thing more that I wished for when all was said and done was, you guessed right, an epilogue that would have let me sigh and moon over Peter and Elizabeth just a little while longer. Recommended!

Final Verdict: With sizzling sexual tension, Anne Stuart delivers a scrumptious read worthy of your time!

Favorite Quotes

She tried to buck, but his strong hands held her captive. She tried to push at his shoulders but she had no strength. She could only grip the blanket beneath her once more as her legs curled up and her head fell back and her body exploded.

She tried to kick him again, and he had no choice but to pin her against the tree with his entire body. Making her fully aware of the state of his arousal.
She looked up at him mid-spate, shocked and suddenly stopped fighting him. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Sweet scold,” he whispered. “My foul-tempered angel, I’ll never get my fill of you. But I have no choice—I have to take you back there. And the more I touch you, the harder it gets.”

He couldn’t help it. He shoved the robe she was wearing aside, pulled his up and lifted her, bracing her against the tree as he filled her with one deep thrust.
She came immediately, tightening around him with a hoarse cry, putting her mouth against his, kissing him as she rode him.

She surged up, then sank down on him, riding him, riding the wave of pleasure, and when the peak came she sank her teeth into his shoulder and bit him, hard, through the heavy fabric.
The sharp pain was the finishing touch, and he let go, pressing her against the rough bark of the tree, filling her with his seed, shocked at the way her body clung to his, drawing him in deeper, jealous of every bit of him.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | BookDepo | Kobo | ARe |  iTunes

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Review: The Devil’s Waltz by Anne Stuart

Format: E-bookthedevilswaltz
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: MIRA
Hero: Christian Richard Benedict de Crecy Montcalm
Heroine: Honorable Miss Annelise Kempton
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: February 1, 2006
Started On: February 5, 2014
Finished On: February 7, 2014

The Devil’s Waltz by Anne Stuart is a romance that offers a bit of a toned down version of the usual variety of heroes that Anne Stuart creates. For someone who pretty much adores the version of anti-heroes as some might label the heroes in Stuart’s books, the toned down version wasn’t any less appealing to me, perhaps because the story still carries the essential elements necessary to draw all sorts of emotions from the reader.

Honorable Miss Annelise Kempton is almost 30 years old and unmarried. Rendered penniless with the death of her father, Annelise moves from one household to another, offering her services for bed and board because to work for a living for someone of her standing was practically frowned upon. Her latest mission so to say lands her in the household of that of Josiah Chippah, a self-made man who wants the marriage of his beautiful daughter to achieve his goal of belonging to elite of the society.

Annelise’s charge is hellbent on marrying Christian Montcalm, the worst of rakes one could come across. Penniless to the point of being destitute, Christian has his sights set on the woman who would bring all the wealth that he requires to put his life back in order, not that he cares much about the sort of thing. The only obstacle in his path seems to be the infuriating woman that is Annelise, a woman who stirs his interest in a way it hasn’t been stirred in a long time, or ever.

Annelise takes her responsibility towards her charge seriously, but the things Christian makes her think of and want to do should not be the thoughts that should run through a woman who has accepted the fact that she would forever be a spinster and that no man, especially a man as beautiful as Christian would want her. With each drugging kiss that Christian lays on her, Annelise’s resolve to stay away from his charming self dissolves at her feet until she is practically laid bare with her naked longing for a man who would never be suitable for a woman like her.

Interwoven into the tale of heat, passion and love between Annelise and Christian lies the story of a nefarious villain who is willing to do everything in his power to get what he wants, even if it is by committing murder in cold blood. The Devil’s Waltz has one of the most beautiful epilogues that I have come across in an Anne Stuart novel. Like it always happens to me in epilogues in Stuart’s books, I had to read and re-read the epilogue until I was satisfied enough to close my eyes and go to sleep, even though it was the wee hours of the morning by then.

The Devil’s Waltz reaffirms my belief that reformed rakes make the best of husbands. And just like the heroes of the caliber that only Stuart can create, Christian had all those essential bits that makes a hero swoon worthy minus the dark edge that seems to be off putting to certain readers of romance. If you have never read an Anne Stuart and would love to read one, I suggest you go with this one. It definitely has the sort of hero that you can get down with, and a heroine you would equally adore. Not to mention the witty banter that is an integral part of the story which made me laugh at several places throughout the read. Recommended!

Final Verdict: Decadent and delicious!

Favorite Quotes

He was sound asleep, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the blessed fire blazing, an empty bottle of wine by his side. He hadn’t been shaved recently, and he looked rumpled, dissolute and beautiful. Like a fallen angel. She moved to stand in front of him and pointed the pistol directly at his heart.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he murmured, and then he opened his extraordinary eyes. “It’s always unwise to shoot the man you’re in love with.”

She reached behind his head, caught his long hair in her hand, and offered her cheek to him, closing her eyes.
He laughed. “I don’t think so, my love.” And he swept her into his arms, pulling her tight against his strong body, and put his hungry mouth on hers.
He tasted like wine and hot sweet sin.

She wasn’t expecting it, wasn’t prepared for it. This was no lazy seduction, no charming flirtation. This was carnal, deep and shattering, and before she realized it he’d pushed her up against the wall, holding her there as he kissed her, and the feeling was so powerful she felt as if she might explode. His hand covered her breast, barely restrained by the antique chemise, and she could feel her nipples tighten against him, feel a wash of something totally foreign and good sweep over her body, until she was both hot and cold, trembling, wanting to weep, wanting to slap him, wanting to rip the white lace from her body and place his mouth where his hand was.

He put his mouth close to hers, just a moment away from kissing her, and her impossibly fast heartbeat raced ever stronger against his fingers.
“Shall I ruin you, dragon?” he whispered, aching for her. “Or shall I send you on your way?”

He tugged at his loosely tied cravat, sending it sailing. He ripped at his own buttons, opening his shirt and reaching for his breeches, when he stopped. “One last warning, love. This is no fairy-tale business, no pretty dream. It’s real. It’s dark and messy and for you, painful. In the beginning, at least. You’ll end up hating me.”
“Don’t worry about it, Christian,” she said. “I already hate you.”

“Chérie, I am going to die if I don’t finish,” he whispered in a hoarse groan. And the words, as if by instinct, were in French.
“Then finish me,” she whispered in the same language.

Her body convulsed and she tried to cry out, but nothing came from her throat but a strangled cry. She was out of control, lost, gone somewhere that she hadn’t known existed, and the only thing with her was Christian, his arms around her, shaking as hard as she was as he spilled himself deep inside her.

He was dressed, or at least halfway there. He had his breeches on, and his shirt was half-buttoned. He must have finally run out of things to do with her, she thought dazedly. So why, when she looked at him, did her body still shiver in longing?

Purchase Links: Amazon | BookDepo | B&N | iTunes | ARe

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ARC Review: Shredded by Tracy Wolff

Format: E-bookshredded
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: New Adult Romance
Series: Extreme Risk, #1
Publisher: Random House Publishing
Hero: Z Michaels
Heroine: Ophelia Richardson
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: February 4, 2014
Started On: February 2, 2014
Finished On: February 5, 2014

Shredded by Tracy Wolff features the too sexy for his own good, 21 year old professional snowboarder Z Michaels who makes you take a double take from the moment he makes his entrance into the story. With a body worth drooling over and then some, tattoos and piercing to show for the bad boy that he is, it is Z’s tortured soul that gets to you as the story proceeds.

Ophelia Richardson has had enough of men who survive on the rush of adrenaline and danger and living for the next high. She has the scars on her body and her heart as a testament to the fact, something that she keeps reminding herself of and often when Z makes his interest in her known. Knowing that Z sleeps his way through girls and discards them like yesterday’s news doesn’t make it any easier for Ophelia to resist his charms, nor does it make her blind to the heartbreakingly vulnerable Z that lies beneath all that attitude and bluster.

Z might think that Ophelia is just another random girl that he would get out of his system once the deed is done, but from the first moment he lays eyes on her beautiful form, Z knows in his heart that Ophelia makes every single woman around him fade away to insignificance. And though both Z and Ophelia come with their own baggage and struggle every single day to move on from the shackles that bind, there is no denying the fact that these two damaged souls call to each other on a level that neither can begin to understand nor comprehend.

Ophelia is not at all ready for a repeat of her past and Z is not ready to face his past demons that drive him to take risks that he otherwise would not. And if Z and Ophelia are to make things work between them, each of them have their own demons to slay and put to rest without which the fiery love that takes a hold of them would crash and burn engulfing them both in the process.

Shredded has all the ingredients that should make a book explosive in your hands. However, I found that unlike the one erotic romance from Tracy Wolff that I read and absolutely loved, Shredded seemed to have a more subtle undertone to it that somehow prevented the story from making that impression it should have. I’m not saying that Shredded turned out to be a bad story, but rather I think it could have turned out better which would have definitely increased the overall impact of the story on the reader.

Z as a hero should have touched my heart from the beginning because lets face it, who doesn’t love a hot and tattooed bad boy hero who is not afraid to live up to his image? But I found myself a bit detached from the whole thing, up till towards the end which is only then when the true story behind Z comes to light. My heart practically leaped to my throat, the emotions that tumbled inside of me made me want to reach into the story and hug the little boy who must’ve been absolutely devastated by the turn of events in his life that had made him the way he is.

Ophelia on the other hand didn’t make that much of an impression on me, to be honest. I felt that her character tended to fade away into the background, though I did love her snazzy comebacks and the fire in her that made her the worthy other half of Z at the end of the story. The moment I fell in love with Ophelia was when she found the courage to go to Z and profess to stick with him no matter what; and I think that takes immense courage for someone who has been through what she had been. I think a point that is worthy of making is that the ending of the story was what sucker punched me and made me pull up its rating.

The one thing that made me happy was that Z and Ophelia got their happily ever after in this book; I was afraid that like most new adult romances featuring first person viewpoints from both characters, this too would turn into one of those trilogies where the hero and heroine continue to have second thoughts about each other or something or the other would keep them apart until the author had milked their story for what its worth; well lets just say I’m just glad that didn’t happen. And I am certainly curious enough to seek out the second book in the series which will be Ash’s story which comes out in April of this year.

Final Verdict: Ophelia and Z makes for a haunting combination, one that delivers a good story!

Favorite Quotes

She doesn’t pull away, though, like I expect her to. She doesn’t slap my face, doesn’t stand up, doesn’t do any of the things I think she will. Instead she sits up and grinds herself, slowly, carefully, determinedly, over my cock. And embarrassing though it is, I swear I almost come at just that touch. Which is crazy, except—in my defense—the girl does one hell of a hip swivel.

This time, when her eyes meet mine, they’re big and mossy green and shimmering with tears. “I want to feel. Something, anything. I’ve spent so long trying to be numb that I think I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be anything but. Please.” She pulls at the blanket, drops kisses on my shoulders, my neck, my chest. Runs her tongue along the unstructured lines of my tattoo. “Please, Z. Make me feel something. Make me feel anything.”

Her lips open under mine like they were meant for me, her tongue stroking along my own as I explore the recesses of her mouth. She tastes so good, like caramel and coffee and sweet, sweet whipped cream. I nibble at her upper lip, suck it between mine. Laugh a little as she gasps and trembles against me. If I could, I’d stay here forever. Right here, at this moment, with my girl in my arms and the nightmares still and silent within me.

And then she’s coming, her slick heat clenching around me in a rhythm that strips away the last tiny bit of control I’ve got. I grab her hips, thrust into her once, twice. Then I’m coming, too, orgasm rolling over me like an avalanche, burying me in pleasure so intense it’s pain. Burying me in satisfaction. Burying me in love, until Ophelia is all I can see or feel or taste. Until she’s inside me as surely as I’m still inside her.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N

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Review: Her Last Chance by Toni Anderson

Format: E-bookherlastchance
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Untitled Series, #2
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Marshall Hayes
Heroine: Josephine Maxwell
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: December 23, 2013
Started On: January 26, 2014
Finished On: January 28, 2014

Toni Anderson is an author who landed on my auto-buy list after reading my second book from hers, i.e. Dark Waters that served to give everything that makes a Toni Anderson a worthy read. There are very few authors who can combine elements of romance and suspense with creepy enough villains to make you look over your shoulders even while reading, and Toni Anderson is one of them for me.

Her Last Chance is the second book in an untitled series, I say untitled because I couldn’t find the name of the “series” that ties this book to the first one, Her Sanctuary which was published in 2009. My impatience to read Her Last Chance saw me skipping the first book, something I regretted a wee bit when I delved into this one because I somehow seemed to miss out on a large chunk of the “relationship” that had forged between the protagonists in this novel.

Josephine Maxwell (Josie) is being hunted by the killer who had left without taking her life almost 20 years back. A serial killer whose thirst for inflicting pain and scarring his victims leaves the law enforcement including the FBI reeling to uncover every single clue they must in order to stop the nefarious killer from taking any more lives. Within Josephine’s memories of her encounter with the killer all those years ago lies the crucial clues that could finally lead them to the killer whose thirst for death, violence and spillage of blood of his victims seems to be escalating exponentially.

Special Agent in Charge Marshall Hayes who is in charge of the Forgeries and Fine Arts Division has a hard time putting the image of the woman who had stamped herself on his very soul from their very short and fiery acquaintance a couple of months back out of his head. The fact that a woman who is the antithesis of everything that he believes in and has worked more than half of his life to uphold irks Marshall and the irony of being in love with a woman whose only strong feeling towards him is the despise she feels towards him is one that is not lost on Marshall.

All of Marshall’s feelings towards Josephine explodes in his face when faced with the news of the attack on her, and nothing and absolutely nothing stops the determination with which Marshall steps forward to protect Josephine at any cost. With the frustration of trying to keep Josephine in line while his work brings forth its own challenges, Marshall practically has his work cut out for him trying to make Josephine see that for him there would never be any woman who would entice him and call out to his soul like she does.

I must say that the suspense element Her Last Chance was top-notch. It kept me guessing, on tenterhooks, willing the killer to reveal his identity when all the while he was right there close enough to scent out if dots had only connected before. Toni has definitely mastered the art of spinning a tale that is hard to put down, especially for a good crime story lover like myself and I must say that Toni is an author you should definitely look out for if you are a fan of the genre.

When it comes to the characters, of course Marshall is the one that I fell in love with, wholeheartedly. The core values that he believes in that never shatters even when the going gets tough was one aspect of his character that I was immensely drawn towards. There exists few people like him in the real world and though the obstacles in his way are many, the need to do the right thing, the zeal to find justice even when everything else points in the other direction was the aspect of his character that I totally fell for. Of course it doesn’t hurt the man when he is obscenely good looking, well-mannered and protective to a fault when it comes to Josephine. The power that emanates from him, the way he can just stride into a room and have everyone come to his attention is a part of his character that practically leaped out of the pages for me. In short, his character was done well enough to leave a girl wanting more.

Now Josephine was a tough nut to crack so to speak. She has led a tough life, and I think part of what makes her character tick was lost on me, perhaps owing to the fact that I skipped out on reading the first book in the series. I found Josephine a bit irritating at times, but then I also understood where she was coming from, her insecurities making her lash out at the one good thing that has happened to her in all her life. While the sizzle between Josephine and Marshall was kept real, I felt a wee bit disappointed when Toni skipped out on giving readers a full fledged scene of passion between the two. Nevertheless the story worked on many other levels which mostly made up for an aspect perhaps only readers like myself would point out.

Final Verdict: Top notch suspense that keeps the reader guessing till the very end.

Favorite Quotes

His lips released hers, cruised her neck, her ear. Shivers danced along her skin, heat thrumming along her veins like liquid craving. He lifted her off the ground and she wrapped her legs around his hips, his erection rubbing against her center, feeling so amazing she wanted even closer. He braced her against the wall. The unrelenting hardness at her back felt good against her spine. Solid and reliable while the rest of her world crashed around her.

“I want you. I always want you even though you drive me crazy.” His breath blistered her ear, his hand rough on her breast, playing with her nipples, making her damp. Making her tremble with desire. He ground against her and she wished he was inside her, filling her as she cascaded over that inexplicable edge, lights flashing, sirens blazing, crying out with astonishment.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you…since we…had sex. You’ve ruined me for anyone else.” There was a raw honesty in his tone that froze her to the spot.
“That was six months ago.”
His smile was pained. “I know. I can’t get you out of my head.”

“I love the way the light moves through the picture.” His other hand slipped lower, the coolness of her dress spilling over his wrist. Blonde hair trailed over his shoulder as she tilted her head to the side and he tasted the pulse hammering in her throat.
“I like the light too…” She gasped when he slipped his finger inside her. She was hot as Hades, as smooth as Chinese silk.

The distance between them was just a few yards, but stepping toward him felt like crossing the galaxy. Feeling his heat, running her hands up through his crisp dark hair, she drew his mouth down to hers. Kissed him with a fierceness that bordered on possession.

Purchase Links: Amazon | Kobo | Smashwords

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Review: A Rose at Midnight by Anne Stuart

Format: E-bookaroseatmidnight
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Avon
Hero: Nicholas Blackthorne
Heroine: Citizeness Ghislaine de Lorgny
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: February 28, 1993
Started On: January 18, 2014
Finished On: January 23, 2014

I picked up A Rose at Midnight by Anne Stuart in my attempt to make my way slowly back to earth, after riding the high of reading Heart of Obsidian by Nalini Singh. I tend to need some time to come to terms with the fact that I might not be able to come across a book that would give me such a high in the near future and most of the time is struck with the need to read a book from an author that would certainly entertain me if nothing else. And this historical set in the 1800’s did just that, in the end leaving me a bit contemplative too, which is something that tends to happen often after I finish reading an Anne Stuart romance.

Ghislaine de Lorgny’s mission in life for the past couple of years has been a simple one. She has been biding her time until she meets the man who would die at her hands, the man who turned his back on her and never looked back, the man who had broken her heart and let her be crushed in every single way left thereafter until the fire for revenge and need for vengeance had become what had kept Ghislaine going. Opportunity comes calling when the man himself comes to the home in which Ghislaine resides in, giving her the perfect chance to exact her revenge even if it means she’d have to leave the life that she’d made for herself in the past couple of years.

Nicholas Blackthorne is a man who possesses the blackest of reputations. With no scruples seemingly whatsoever, Nicholas lives his life as he pleases, the bleakness inside of his soul hidden by the depth of depravity that he shows to the rest of the world. When Ghislaine comes into his life once again, Nicholas does the unpredictable thing and carries her off with him, seemingly to teach her a lesson that she would never forget, all the while refusing to acknowledge just how much of his black soul is already possessed by the woman in question.

A Rose at Midnight might not be an easy read for some people, but then that is one reason why I love novels by Anne Stuart. There is a sensuality to her ruthless heroes that is indescribable, the way in which she can redeem even the most unlikely heroes one that always would keep me going back for more. Nicholas seemed like a hero who would never find his footing as someone who would redeem himself enough to win the affections of Ghislaine, but then Anne Stuart’s characters are hardly that straightforward and Nicholas was definitely no exception.

The life that Ghislaine had undergone during the uprising in France, the way she had lost her family and everything dear to her, not to mention how she had been defiled in the most vile manner while hatred had borne in her heart for the man who had been in the next room served to be reason enough for the rough and tough journey of the heart that Ghislaine takes towards love and peace of her soul. Acceptance of her feelings for the complex man that Nicholas is takes a lot of doing and I understood every single bit of turmoil, hatred, anger and deep sense of betrayal that she felt in the process. I would say that it would take a woman of immense courage to let go and embrace love, a love so fierce and powerful that even the darkness that had invaded her soul a long time back was no match for the sheer potency of it all.

I also loved the secondary romance tucked into this dark and gritty story which somehow seemed to lighten up the pages a bit. I loved Lady Ellen’s inquisitive, forward and at times clueless nature when it comes to the love of her life aka Honorable Sir Antony Wilton-Greening. Their courtship which takes place in their pursuit of Ghislaine and Nicholas seemed to make the darker emotions this novel seemed to generate easier to bear and I have to say I loved every single minute of their journey towards a beautiful and well deserved happily ever after.

Time and yet again, Anne Stuart astounds me with her creativity (even when I should know better by now), her characters and the way she unabashedly writes the best alpha heroes out there one that earns her the highest of ranks in my list of favorite authors. And every single time, with very few exceptions of course, I have always ended each book with the deepest sigh from within my soul, knowing that I couldn’t have asked for more!

Final Verdict: A Rose at Midnight is magnificent, the intricacy of this multi-layered tale is not to be missed!

Favorite Quotes

She could have withstood a brutal assault, his mouth grinding against her. She could have withstood a rough rape of her mouth, and she was fully prepared to disappear into that quiet place in her mind where no one could reach her.
But she was unprepared for the softness of his lips against hers. The damnable gentleness as he brushed his mouth against hers, feathering it lightly, so lightly that it was a caress. And she hadn’t been caressed in more than a decade.

“Just a kiss, love,” he said, putting his fingers under her chin and tilting her head up to meet his mouth. She held very still as his lips tasted hers, but he could feel the faint tremor that ran through her small, strong body, and he wondered idly what caused it. Hatred? Or desire?

Her body was stiff at first, and then slowly grew more pliant, her hips tilting up against his with the light encouragement of his hand at the small of her back, her perfect breasts through the thin layers of clothing pressing against his chest. He could hear the lazy buzz of bees in the background, the distant song of birds, and the wind rustled through the leaves overhead as he kissed her, until she was shaking, until he was shaking, until he wanted to push her down in the sweet-smelling grass and tear away her clothes and his, until he wanted to find comfort in the sweet danger of her body.

“It will be rape,” she said in a wild fury.
“No,” he said. “It won’t.”
She survived the fierce possession of his kiss. She survived his overpowering strength, as he pulled her to the bed, pushing her down and covering her flailing limbs with his strong body. She survived the touch of his hands on her breasts, the feel of his arousal against her stomach. But she couldn’t survive the sudden gentleness, the slow start of heat in her belly, the warmth in her breasts, the damnable yearning that blossomed in her heart.

She felt as if she were floating, lost in the feel of his lips on hers, the shocking intimacy of his tongue in her mouth, more intimate than anything she’d endured during her enforced couplings. She wanted to dissolve, to lose herself in the seductive wonder of his mouth possessing hers. She wanted it never to stop, to last forever in a billowing cloud of passion without end.

He’d told her she was beautiful, his precious child, his angel in a dark night. He’d told her she was his soul, his life and breath, and the heat of his desire.
And, God help him, he’d told her the worst thing of all. He’d told her that he loved her. And even now, he wasn’t quite sure if he’d lied.

“Don’t fight it, my angel,” he whispered, his voice a mockery. “I’m not going to finish with you until you come.”
She whimpered then, and hated herself for doing so. He covered her mouth with his, and like a fool she kissed him back, as his hair fell around them both, curtaining them in darkness. He reached down and caught her hips, pulling her up against him, and then his body went rigid in her arms, and she felt the flooding of a great warmth, one that for the first time was answered with her own warmth.

“You have two choices, Ghislaine. You must either kill me or love me. Make your decision.”
He watched her grip tighten on the knife, and he wondered whether this time she would do it.
He reached her, standing in front of her, his tom, bloodstained shirt barely covering his chest, and waited.
“Oh, my God,” she said in a broken voice. And she dropped the knife with a noisy clatter, and flung herself into his arms.

He caught her shoulders, pulling her up close against him, and this time he kissed her, hard and deep, a kiss she answered. Her dress ripped as he tore it off her; his breeches ripped as she tore them open. She touched him, felt the silken strength of him, and he groaned, deep in his throat, pushing against her hands.

He stared at her in mute frustration. “All right, I love you, damn it,” he snapped. “Does that satisfy you?”
She considered it. “It’s a start. But you’ll definitely need more practice. You haven’t learned the proper intonation. You need—” He silenced her, efficiently and swiftly, his mouth covering hers.
When he lifted his head they were both breathless. “I love you,” he said again, this time a little more softly.
She smiled up at him. “Much better,” she whispered.

Purchase Links: Amazon

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Review: Shadow Lover by Anne Stuart

Format: E-bookshadowloveras
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Bell Bridge Books
Hero: Alexander MacDowell
Heroine: Carolyn Smith
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: December 31, 2013
Started On: January 14, 2014
Finished On: January 14, 2014

It is always a downright delight to find a novel that you have missed out on from an absolute favorite author of yours. Shadow Lover by Anne Stuart was first published in the year of 1999 and somehow during my voracious hunt through Anne Stuart’s contemporary romantic suspense novels, I seem to have missed out on reading this one. It was when I saw this novel up for grabs on Netgalley that made me realize my grievous “error” in missing out on this. But then again, I can’t complain too much because discovering veritable treasures like this one is the reason why I love reading so much!

Shadow Lover delivers exactly the sort of novel that only Anne Stuart can. With enough twists and turns to the story to make your head spin and the way she brings the story to life with her quintessential bad boy heroes that readers like myself can never get enough of, Shadow Lover brings to life the very reason why Anne Stuart continues to amaze and wow me, practically with every single book I have read of hers to date.

Almost eighteen years to the day he had left never to be heard from since, Alexander MacDowell returns home, seemingly to ease the passage for his mother, Sally’s imminent death. It is only Carolyn Smith, the only MacDowell who isn’t essentially a MacDowell by birth that seems to harbor suspicions about the man claiming to be Alex. And of course Carolyn has good enough reason to be suspicious when she had witnessed Alex’s murder with her very own eyes that fateful night when everything had gone so awfully awry.

In a family laden with secrets, Caroline seems to be the only one who remains unaffected, the only one who seems to have a strong sense of morality and conscience. Caroline’s only wish is to be completely free of the MacDowell’s family once Sally dies, the woman who had unofficially adopted her into the family and loved her as much as she is capable of loving and showing affection towards another.

While Caroline’s sense of mistrust runs deep when it comes to the charming Alex who bears an uncanny resemblance to the Alex that she remembers and dreams of, she can’t help but be fascinated with all that he makes her feel, the feelings of violent passions that he rouses in her far more disturbing to her peace of mind than anything else. Caroline is determined that she would protect Sally at any cost, even if it means holding her tongue from lashing out with the truth which would certainly have dire consequences.

It is only a master like Anne Stuart that can pull off a novel of mystery as intriguing as this one, the seemingly innocent enough plot filled with so many unforeseeable twists and turns that the reader is taken along on a journey that certainly gets the brain cells revving. And then there is the heat factor involved when it comes to Anne Stuart. The way she brings her hero and heroine alive in essentially every single one of her novels, the mistrust and at times hatred born out of the volatile feelings that they harbor towards one another and later on the spillage of the fierce passion serves to be one of the best aspects to her stories.

I can definitely go on and on about the elements that worked for me in the story to make it one that has earned its rightful place in my “Favorites” shelf, but you’ve got to read it yourself to determine just how enthralling a tale that Anne Stuart can weave. There is just something about her heroes with their lean and strong bodies and of course slender hands of veritable strength that just gets my blood pumping. And I would give up just about anything to meet one of  these heroes in real life.

Final Verdict: Anne Stuart fills every single page with her exquisite mastery. Most highly and definitely recommended.

Favorite Quotes

Her hands had somehow ended up around his neck, her fingers entwined in his long hair. She closed her eyes—she didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to acknowledge the foolishness of what she was doing. She kissed him, clumsily, and he made a low, growling noise in the back of his throat, one of sheer animal arousal.
The sound made her wet.
He must have known. He slid his hands down and caught her hips, lifting her almost effortlessly, pulling her legs around his waist as he started toward the bed.

“You sure you want me to stop?”
She stared up at him, unable to say a word. She was hot, trembling, shaking with a need more powerful than any she’d ever known. He touched her lip, and his fingers had blood on them. “You bit your lip,” he said. “Bite mine.” And he covered her mouth with his.

“Slowly, Carolyn,” he whispered, pushing her back against the pillows. “No need to rush, we have all the time in the world.”
“No,” she said in a strangled voice. She opened her eyes, and she could see the firelight flickering over their bodies, dark, pagan, magical. “Don’t make me . . . beg.”
He slid his hands up her legs, pulling them apart. “Oh, angel, I don’t want you to beg,” he whispered. “I want to be the one to beg you.”

Her breath was coming in strangled gasps, and she could feel sweat and tears pour down her face. She gripped his shoulders so tightly her hands were numb, and everything was centered around his inexorable invasion, like nothing she had ever felt before.
It was too much, more than she could stand, and she tried to pull away, but he caught her hips with his hands, pinning her against the mattress. “Take me, Carolyn,” he whispered. “You know you can. Don’t be afraid of me. Take me.”

“I thought you weren’t going to touch me until I asked you?” she said in a furious whisper.
“Ask me.” He pushed the shirt from her shoulders, then reached for the waistband of her jeans.
“Go to hell,” she said, and kicked him in the shins.
He caught her face in his hands, holding it still, tilting her mouth up to his. “Ask me,” he said again, his mouth hovering inches from hers.
She stopped struggling. Her face was wet with tears, she looked lost and broken and so damned sweet.
“For what?” she whispered.
“For anything you want.”

“You ran away the last time,” he whispered against her mouth. “Are you going to run away again?”
“No.”
“Even though I’m a cheat and a liar and a con man and a thief?”
“Are you?”
“Do you care?”
“No,” she said in a fierce little voice. “I want you. I don’t care who you are, I don’t care what you are—none of it matters. I need you.”

“I’m afraid,” she said in a very quiet voice.
“I know you are. And I can’t figure out why. We’ve already done it once and you didn’t suffer any Victorian trauma. You know I won’t force you, you know I won’t hurt you. What’s the problem?”
She stood very still. “I’m afraid I’ll fall in love with you.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. And then a faint, reluctant smile curved his mouth. “Well, you can’t say I haven’t been doing everything I can to keep that from happening.”

“I was in love with the real Alex.”
He could only hope she couldn’t see his reaction. “You were thirteen when he left,” he said roughly. “Thirteen-year-old girls don’t know anything about love. And he was a selfish, spoiled brat who didn’t care who he hurt.”
“I loved him.”
He wanted her to stop saying that. He wanted her to say it again.

He wanted her whether she wanted him or not, but he wasn’t going to make a move.
He didn’t need to. She crossed the room, and before he realized what she was planning to do she sank to her knees in front of him and took him in her mouth.

“Turn over,” he said. “I want you that way.”
He half expected her to object. She didn’t. She did what he wanted, and her strangled cry of pleasure when he pushed back inside her almost finished him.
He wanted, needed to make it last. To take her every way he could think of, and more, so there would be no more secrets between them, no more lies.

She was even tighter from this angle, and he tried to think of something else, to slow himself down, but he couldn’t, all he could think and feel and hear was Carolyn, the soft, desperate little cries she was making, the rich scent of sex in the air, the silky smoothness of her back, the deep, clenching tightness of her.
He reached between her legs and touched her, and she exploded, her scream no longer muffled, a sobbing cry of complete surrender and savage, ultimate pleasure.
And he gave himself up to it, filling her with everything he had left, pouring into her.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N

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