Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Historical Romance POV: Third Person, Dual Series: The Bellamy Sisters, #4 Publisher: Crooked Sixpence Press Hero: Roland Montgomery Heroine: Aurelia Bellamy Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: April 09, 2024 Started On: May 04, 2024 Finished On: May 06, 2024
With the fourth installment in The Bellamy Sisters series, S.M. LaViolette, aka Minerva Spencer, brings to readers the story of the eldest daughter in the Bellamy family. Having fallen into desperate times, each of the sister’s set out to do what they can to restore the family’s finances, at often perilous cost to themselves.
As is signatureS.M. LaViolette, Aurelia is a sensual, atmospheric historical romance that pulls the reader into its lushly detailed setting and makes you root for two unlikely lovers who could not be more different. Aurelia Bellamy, the ever-responsible eldest daughter of her family, is ready to finally step out of the mold that has defined her. When the chance arises to work as an artist for one of England’s most renowned naturalists, she seizes it, even if it means traveling to a remote island to work for Roland Montgomery, the Eighth Earl of Creew, a man infamous for his rakish past and rumored moral ruin.
Roland is a man both physically and emotionally scarred, carrying the ghosts of his two failed marriages and a cynicism that runs deep. He has long convinced himself that love is not for the likes of him. Aurelia, on the other hand, is a prim, spirited young woman whose innate curiosity, artistic eye, and quiet strength makes her stand out in ways Roland never anticipated. Their attraction, once sparked, builds steadily into something far more complicated than either expects.
While Aurelia represents hope, beauty, and a certain innocence of heart, Roland embodies the disillusionment of a man who has seen too much betrayal. It is this push and pull—the idealism of a woman who believes in love against the jaded certainty of a man who believes it only destroys—that fuels the heart of the story. Watching them slowly surrender to what grows between them is both tender and steamy, with an intensity that lingers long after the last page is turned.
I found Aurelia to be an engaging heroine; witty, brave, and determined to carve out a life beyond the quiet sacrifices expected of her. She is ambitious without being reckless, and her compassion shines even when Roland tries to push her away. Roland himself is undeniably sexy, though a touch tamer than I had expected for such a notorious rake. His inner struggles and scars were compelling, but at times I wished for a little more raw angst to heighten the emotional stakes.
As always, LaViolette’s prose is beautifully layered, and her take on historical settings is refreshingly modern (a bit too much at times perhaps). The sensuality is woven seamlessly into the narrative, the sex scenes passionate yet meaningful, and the chemistry between Aurelia and Roland undeniable. Still, I would have liked just a touch more bite to their conflict—it felt as if the story could have pushed further into the darker, more tortured depths hinted at in Roland’s past.
Recommended for: readers who love age-gap romances, heroines who are quietly daring, and rakes who discover that love may not be the ruin they fear.
Final Verdict: Refreshing, intimate, and quietly powerful—Aurelia proves even the most jaded rake can be undone by love.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Historical Romance POV: Third Person, Dual Series: The Seducers, #3 Publisher: Crooked Sixpence Press Hero: Brian Dinwiddy (Hugo Buckingham) Heroine: Martha Jane Pringle Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: May 29, 2021 Started On: November 02, 2023 Finished On: November 04, 2023
“Good afternoon, Mistress Pringle.” His lids lowered and the smile that curved his thin lips made something low in her belly—something beneath her belly, truth be told—tighten, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body. His nostrils flared as he watched her, almost as if he were scenting something. Martha suddenly knew—she just knew—that he was aware of what his suggestive, naughty looks did to a woman. Did to her.
Hugo and the Maiden by S.M. LaViolette, the third installment in The Seducers series, is a story I pinned a lot of high hopes on given the nature of the male protagonist in the story. Irrespective of whether those expectations were met, it was still a compelling and provocative romance, as is the norm by almost any novel that Minerva Spencer aka Ms. LaViolette brings to her readers. Featuring Hugo Buckingham as the hero and Martha Jane Pringle as the heroine, this novel delves into the gritty realities of 19th-century London and the isolated life far removed in the island of Stroma, the harsh lived realities of life for most, and to some extent, class difference.
Hugo, a bisexual courtesan, is a hero with a colorful past and a wealth of scars that he hides behind the facade that he presents to the rest of the world. He is an ambitious man, made so by the abject poverty that he had been subjected to when he had been sold by his father at the age of fourteen. His current status as the co-owner of London’s most expensive brothel marks a hard-won success that is abruptly shattered when he is betrayed by his business partner. Hugo finds himself aboard a ship as a convict, bound to the desolate island of Stroma, where his life takes a 180-degree turn.
On the island, Hugo meets the virginal daughter of the island’s vicar, Martha Jane Pringle bringing him face to face with the woman who would be his undoing. The island’s harsh climate and its isolation from the rest of the world provides a stark contrast to Hugo’ previous life, where material wealth had put Hugo in the midst of opulence, his heart never full for his need of material wants and desires, even as his heart and soul had become encrusted in reinforced steel over time.
Martha, with her no-nonsense attitude, compassionate nature, and plain looks is the direct opposite of Hugo in every sense and not the kind of woman who would make Hugo sit up and take notice. However, none of that stops Martha’s dormant senses from awakening in Hugo’s presence, and Hugo from sensing his own vulnerabilities in the face of Martha, to his annoyance. Martha, who is on the verge of being betrothed to a man who brings her no joy, finds herself enamored by Hugo, even as she fights the attraction with every weapon in her arsenal, until she realizes that there is no stopping the tide when it comes to what fate has in store for her.
Their relationship as it develops therefore, is not an easy one. Hugo who at first, tries to use his skills as a seducer to his advantage to get off the godforsaken island, finds himself in the position of feeling ashamed for the very first time in his adult life, as a result of which, his innate kindness and the reluctant hero that resides in him starts to emerge. Martha who understand Hugo perhaps better than he does himself, finds in Hugo a man worthy of her unending love, and the weight of that love is what Hugo shies away from, a man who has never understood what it is like to be accepted for who he is.
As the story moves deeper into exploring the complexities of Hugo, who is a fascinating character of contrasts, his struggles to open up emotionally to Martha was indicative of his deep vulnerabilities that he hides so well. Martha, who is the beacon of strength, love, acceptance, and kindness is the balm to every ache in Hugo’s soul, and when Hugo and Martha finally accept that there is no stopping the tide of desire and want between them, it opens up Martha to a world of sensuality and desire that allows her to finally break free from the shackles that has bound her.
While I expected this to be a five-star read because of Hugo, him being the kind of hero that would give a romance its weight in gold, I found that the story failed to fully explore the potential of Hugo. I understood why for a character like Hugo, who switches his roles so effectively when it comes to sex that is meaningless, it had to be different with Martha. But at the same time, I wanted Hugo to embrace the full extent of his reserves of sensuality with Martha and for their union to reach new heights in passion which would have given greater meaning to their bond.
I also found that while the story excels in character development and themes explored, some plot resolutions were a bit too convenient. The story’s pacing occasionally stumbled, particularly when it comes to the resolution of Hugo’s past and his abrupt realization of love for Martha which I wanted more out of.
One of the best aspects of the novel was its rich tapestry of secondary characters, from the adorable Celubion to the antagonistic Robert Clark, each adding depth to the narrative. Martha’s father, the vicar, embodies kindness and moral steadfastness, and becomes pivotal in shaping Hugo’s journey towards redemption and finding in Martha the salvation he had been searching for, even without realizing it himself.
Recommended for fans of Ms. LaViolette, fans of historical romances, and fans of richly textured romances that navigates the complexities of love and redemption in all its glory.
Final Verdict: Fans of historical romance will find much to admire in LaViolette’s nuanced characterization and the evocative setting explored in Hugo and the Maiden, making this a page-turner.
Favorite Quotes
His stern expression shifted into a sweet, gentle smile that Martha wouldn’t have believed his wicked lips capable of forming. “A kiss for luck.” And then he lowered his mouth over hers and physical sensation swamped her. His lips were warm and firm; his scent was an earthy mix of male sweat and fresh air; and his body felt huge and hard against hers. The tip of his tongue, soft and slick, flicked over her tightly pursed lips and she relaxed under the gentle caress. He made a low rumbling sound in his chest and then pulled away. Martha swayed toward him, her body following his.
“Martha,” he whispered, giving a slight, wondering shake of his head. “You need to understand what you will be getting. What you saw me doing that night? Fisting myself? That’s me, Martha. I’m crass and earthy and I like being that way. I’m not a gentleman—I’m not … couth. I don’t like furtive trysting in the dark—I like fucking in all its forms.” She gasped. Hugo nodded, as though she’d said something. “And I like saying the word fuck—and cruder words besides. I won’t be the kind of husband to visit you weekly and mount you in darkness. I want to know every part of your body, intimately, and I want you to learn all about mine.”
Martha had been dreaming of touching him for weeks—never had she expected the astounding silky softness of his skin. Or the heat of him. He closed his hand around hers and gave a low growl of approval. “Just like that, darling—tight.” He released her hand and palmed her mound, gently squeezing her sex. “Mine.” He pushed two fingers inside her, working her with languid pumps. “All mine.”
“Tell me you want it,” he asked as he withdrew slowly, inch by inch. “Beg for it.” “Please, Hugo, I want—” Her words were the proverbial match to a fuse. “Take it,” he grated, slamming into her hard enough to move her up the bed. Martha groaned. “More, please.” “Take it all,” he growled, giving her his full length with each savage stroke.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Oasis Length: Novel Genre: Historical Romance POV: Third Person, Dual Series: The Bellamy Sisters, #2 Publisher: Crooked Sixpence Press Hero: Sylvester Derrick Heroine: Hyacinth Mary Bellamy Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: February 28, 2023 Started On: October 22, 2023 Finished On: October 25, 2023
“Your mouth has been tormenting me and giving me… ideas.” Hy wanted to beg him to describe those ideas, but she couldn’t make herself speak. “I want to do unspeakable things to you… Hy.”
In Hyacinth, S.M. LaViolette crafts a deeply engaging tale set against the opulent and yet at times suffocating backdrop of London’s high society. The novel revolves around 36 year old Sylvester Derrick, the eighth Duke of Chatham, a man whose rugged exterior and cynical demeanor mask the scars of a tumultuous past. Haunted by the loss of his wife Mariah a decade prior, Sylvester is a complex hero—embittered by life’s harsh realities and yet unexpectedly stirred by the unusual 22 year old Hyacinth Mary Bellamy.
Hyacinth, or Hy, is anything but ordinary. As the second daughter of the Earl of Addiscombe, her striking orange hair and spectacles sets her apart from her conventionally beautiful siblings. But it is her bold choice to cross-dress as “Hiram” for nightly escapades that truly makes her character stand out, first out of a need for independence and later to alleviate her family’s financial burdens.
The novel deftly explores the stark contrast between Sylvester’s aristocratic world and the darker, illicit corners of the city that Hy and Sylvester converge. Their interactions are fraught with a simmering tension, as Sylvester, oblivious to Hy’s true identity, is drawn to her intelligence and charm, unknowingly flirting with the very essence of what he has long denied: love and vulnerability.
Ms. LaViolette masterfully intertwines themes of loss and regret, allowing Sylvester’s emotional scars to surface as he grapples with his burgeoning feelings for Hy. Hy is a wonderfully crafted neuro-divergent heroine, whose mind works distinctively differently from her peers. The scars that she carries, especially due to her mother who had found her tiresome in the extreme is one that makes your heart break for the younger version of Hy. It is also this very essence of her character which allows her to compete with men at high stake games of gambling at which she excels.
The gradual build-up of romantic tension between Hy and Sylvester evolves beyond mere physical attraction, culminating in a profound connection that highlights the strength of two seemingly disparate souls coming together. Their conversations reveal insecurities and desires, rendering their relationship not just a romantic entanglement, but a journey of self-discovery for both. It also leads Sylvester to gradually reevaluate his life, bringing him to conclusions about his past actions that does not sit very well with him and makes him understand how they could have hurt the very people who are important to him.
I loved both Sylvester and Hy. Sylvester because he was unabashedly male in a way that was breathtaking. Bored with his lot in life as it happens to most amongst the peerage with their excesses, Sylvester finally finds the solace and excitement that he seeks in Hy. It is only someone like Hy, who can stir his heart, body, and mind that would do for Sylvester and that is exactly what happens.
As mentioned earlier, Hy is an unusual heroine in many aspects. Her sense of curiosity and her lack of self-consciousness are perhaps the most alluring. It is most often our self-consciousness regarding what society demands and expects from us, that makes women hesitate most often when seeking our rightful place in society. While Hy knows her own mind and is fully cognizant of what she wants, a long-term relationship and marriage, especially to a Duke is not something she believes she is suited for. But of course, Sylvester is more than well suited and able to change her mind, with persuasive reasoning that proves to be Hy’s undoing.
Ms. LaViolette is an amazing writer and every single book she has penned to-date serves as a testament to that fact. The writing in this book too, is lush and evocative, painting vivid scenes that lives rent free in my head. One other factor when it comes to Ms. LaViolette’s writing is how rich her vocabulary is, and I always end up noting down a ton of words which I look up and learn from. This story is special for one other reason; the fact that Ms. LaViolette herself is touch averse as is Hy, and I believe her own experiences too have helped shape this book into what it is.
Hyacinth is a novel that ends up being more than just a romance; it is a profound exploration of identity, duty, and the transformative power of love. Sylvester and Hy are two halves of one soul, each challenging and complementing the other in ways that resonates deeply with the reader. Ms. LaViolette’s skillful storytelling and rich characterization makes this novel standout, making this a great second installment to The Bellamy Sisters series.
Recommended for fans of historical romances and for those who enjoy emotional depth and nuanced character dynamics in their romances.
Final Verdict: Hyacinth is a story that offers a refreshing perspective on the complexities of the human heart and mind, with characters that are deeply flawed and all too real!
Favorite Quotes
Ever so gently she caressed the thick fan of lashes that rested against his cheeks before lightly grazing the bony hardness of his nose, the velvety softness of his eyebrow, and the pulsing blue veins beneath the thin skin of his temples, not stopping until her fingers carded the fine, soft hairs near his ears. She was interested to discover that the gray hairs were slightly rougher than the glossy brown ones. Hy saved the scar until last, careful not to touch the baby-soft skin too roughly. She tried to imagine what he must have looked like before the injury but found that she could not picture him without the scar. It seemed so much a part of who he was. Had it changed him as much inside as it had externally? How could you ever ask a person such an intimate question?
“My God you feel good.” His eyes closed as he took a moment to allow her to adjust, the pulse at the base of his throat throbbing so hard she couldn’t resist tonguing it. He groaned as she licked him again and again. Hy lowered her mouth over the thin skin and sucked. He gave a low chuckle. “Are you going to leave your mark on me?” She nodded, using her teeth to graze the skin. When she pulled away, she smiled at the purpled, swollen skin. “Proud of yourself?” “Yes.”
He hissed, his jaws clenching and nostrils flaring as his eyes lowered to her lips. “I’ve dreamed about your mouth,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. Hy lowered her head until she could reach the slit in his crown with her tongue. His body shook as she probed the tiny opening with the pointed tip of her tongue, teasing him until several vulgar, desperate words slipped from his lips. Not until he whispered, “Please,” one more time did she take the fat head in her mouth and commence to wreck him.
Sylvester flung open the door to the connecting room and then grabbed Hy, who was in the process of shrugging out of her coat, by the upper arms and pinned her against the wall. He claimed her mouth like a starving man falling on a banquet, more than a little pleased when she responded with equal hunger. She shoved her fingers into his hair, knocking off his hat and tightened her hands into fists. “Mmmm,” he groaned, relishing the oddly pleasurable pain as she flexed her fingers, tugging hard enough to pull out more than a few hairs. “I thought the evening would never end,” he said when he came up for air. “I noticed your playing was off tonight, Your Grace. Were you distracted by something?” He nipped her lower lip. “You find that amusing, do you?” She gave a throaty chuckle as Sylvester bit her chin.
Sylvester studied her from beneath lowered lashes, a sudden ball of anxiety pulsing in his belly. She was clever, resourceful, loyal, sensual, adventurous—and more. She was perfect for him—not just the perfect lover or companion, but the perfect person to share the rest of his life. Perfect except for one, single, insurmountable obstacle: she was a stablemaster’s niece.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Historical Erotic Romance POV: Third Person, Single Series: The Seducers, #1 Publisher: Crooked Sixpence Press Hero: Magnus Stynwyck Heroine: Melissa Griffin Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥 Published On: October 01, 2021 Started On: October 01, 2022 Finished On: October 02, 2022
She was glad nobody else could hear the noise she made. To say he looked like a water god out of mythology was trite, but, oh, it was so very, very true. He strode from the waves like some male version of The Birth of Venus. Or The Birth of Adonis or Zeus or one of those randy Greeks or Romans who was always getting his kit off at the drop of a hat. Melissa realized she was sliding off the rock because she’d leaned forward so much and pushed herself back into her crack, briefly disgusted by her own avidity but quickly suppressing it. He bent at the waist and slicked water from his legs with both hands. She swallowed.
Believe it or not, it was the Grantchester series, starring a vicar (James Norton) who also moonlights as a detective in solving murder mysteries that made me read Melissa and The Vicar by S.M. LaViolette. It is an intriguing premise after all, the hero being a curate (an assistant to the vicar) whose fate is intertwined with that of a heroine who owns one of London’s most exclusive brothels.
First published in 2021 as the debut book in The Seducers series, Ms. LaViolette brings to readers the story of 24 year old Magnus Stynwyck and 29 year old Melissa Griffin, whose age difference might not have mattered all that much if not for the fact that Melissa’s lived reality makes her well beyond her years, unacceptable by society’s standards to lead a life that is considered respectable.
Melissa’s first encounter with Magnus comes as she moves to the village of New Bickford for a brief spell to recuperate and regain her zest for the business, as her rescuer from the vicious rooster in the village. For someone who has seen it and done it all, Melissa is awestruck by the beauty that is Magnus, who makes her feel shy and fidgety for the first time she can recall, something she had long forgotten along with the innocence of her youth.
Magnus has always known that he wanted to join the clergy when he grew up, the youngest of six brothers. His family had never understood why he wanted to take up the vocation, and he had long given up trying to convince them that this was his calling.
While Melissa finds herself enjoying the solitude and the sedate pace of life in the village, she is at the same time taken aback by how strongly she finds herself attracted to Magnus, which she knows in her heart is futile in every sense. For someone as well schooled in the art of seduction, Melissa finds her heart racing, her mind distracted, and her body reacting to the mere presence of Magnus and the charm that he wields on her heart without even trying.
Melissa’s plans to prevent her heart from breaking results in her fleeing after tasting the exquisiteness of what it means to surrender to what is between her Magnus. However, she never factors in the stubbornness that courses through Magnus which his doting mother claims to be her youngest son’s only sin. The steely determination behind the gentleness that is Magnus proves to be Melissa’s undoing, and give in she does, even with all her misgivings about them and what it would mean for Magnus, until she realizes that her past is very much part of her present, which could end up destroying not just what she has with Magnus, but her very existence in the process.
I thoroughly enjoyed and loved the heady experience of reading this novel. One thing that is always true for books by Ms. Spencer aka Ms. LaViolette is that every single story that she has written to-date has a solid tale to tell. The steam factor which she does so well only enhances the underlying story and gives it the edge and angst the stories deserve, and this is true for Melissa and the Vicar in every sense.
The great characterization of the story is what beguiled me the most, the different facets to both Melissa and Magnus which continues to surprise the reader at every turn. Melissa’s was by far the most intriguing, all the horror that she had lived through at the tender age of thirteen just being unreal. Her indomitable strength to persevere, to rise above, even when she continues to be at war with her own conscience about being the owner of the very brothel at which she had served, is a study of contrasts that really got to me. Melissa is a survivalist at heart, and I don’t think I can even begin to comprehend what it would do to anyone’s psychology to have survived the kind of trauma that she lived through.
Of Melissa and Magnus, the latter is the dreamer, the one who believes that everything would turn out alright and perhaps in his naivety, assumes that everyone would see Melissa as he does, and accept her into the fold with open arms. The most shocking truth about Melissa’s past as it unfolded is the reason this story stands out in such a remarkable way, and how Magnus seemed to shift and show us the different facets to his character which proved to be my undoing.
I loved Magnus for his gentleness, his stubbornness, his love for Melissa that was pure in every sense, his need for the woman who rocks his very existence out of its orbit, and the way he stands true to his convictions, even if it pains him to do so. There was no way on earth that Melissa could have resisted the force that was Magnus as unleashed, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
The ending was realistic, especially given Melissa’s profession and the stain it carries in society. The epilogue was lovely, and made me smile with joy from inside out. Definitely recommended!
Final Verdict: As Melissa puts it, Oh, Mr. Stanwyck, what a wonderful surprise you turned out to be! Top notch characterization makes this an instant page-turner!
Favorite Quotes
“This is wrong, Melissa.” He’d meant to sound firm, commanding—but it came out more of a question. She gave a throaty chuckle, working her way down his jaw to his neck. “How can something so wonderful—between two people who love each other—be wrong?” Her lips pushed into his cravat and her mouth settled over his Adam’s apple. And then she bit him.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Historical Romance POV: Third Person, Dual Series: The Bellamy Sisters, #1 Publisher: Crooked Sixpence Hero: Paul Edward Needham Heroine: Phoebe Bellamy Sensuality: 3 Published On: May 31, 2022 Started On: June 07, 2022 Finished On: June 18, 2022
“Everyone comes from somewhere, Twickham—even the lowest chimney sweep could trace his bloody lineage back six hundred years if he had the leisure and money to do so.”
Minerva Spencer is a one of a kind author who creates such intricate love stories that are hard to put down. Phoebe, the first book of The Bellamy Sisters series proves the same, bringing to readers the story of 20 year old Phoebe Bellamy and 35 year old Paul Edward Needham, Viscount Needham.
The Bellamy family consists of eight members, with Phoebe the fourth daughter being in charge of managing the meager finances of the family that is in dire straits. Phoebe considers herself to be plain and average unlike her sisters, most of whom she views in a more favorable light than she does herself.
When Phoebe encounters Paul, her first impression of him is not a favorable one. However, Paul has a need for a wife to establish his daughter in society, Paul whose newly acquired title which does not really earn him the approval of the established members of the ton, who view him more as a boorish merchant than the entitled ones. Phoebe too has a reason for a husband – to rescue her family from going bankrupt and saving her family home from ruin.
As these two enter into a marriage of convenience and traverse the tricky corners of married life, especially with the family circumstances being what they are for both, Phoebe starts to realize that most, including herself, tends to underestimate her husband for various reasons, believing him to be more brawn than brains.
It is Paul’s secrets and back story that makes for enticing reading as the story progresses. Paul who had held the short end of the stick in the parenting department with a father who had not cared for much except for his status and wealth, and believed that what did not kill his son, only made him stronger.
Paul’s toxic family is what gives this story the edge, not to mention the man himself who I fell head over heels in love with. Sadly, Phoebe never did really grow on me as she continued to be rather stuck up in my opinion about where she comes from. I also never understood why she was so angry about Paul taking control of Phoebe’s family home, when her father making them homeless if otherwise was a foregone conclusion.
Paul from the beginning treats Phoebe with nothing but gentleness. His bedroom recreation itself takes into consideration her pleasure first and foremost which is telling of the kind of man he is. What I found odious was how Phoebe always chose to believe the worst when his actions dictated otherwise, and even though she leaps to his defense towards the end, she always tended to continue to be in shock when she realizes that the truth is so far from what she conceived it to be. I truly wanted to love Phoebe as much as I did Paul, but alas I did not believe that Phoebe was worth the gold standard that was Paul.
Recommended for fans of the romance genre, those who love a good meaty story to sink their teeth into!
Final Verdict: The best thing about this story was Paul, the big brute of a hero who was a gentle giant, with a penchant for control in the bedroom, who designs exquisite lingerie for his beloved!
Favorite Quotes
“There is something I don’t think you understand about me, Phoebe. Or perhaps you’ve just refused to accept it. But I am, in the main, the sort of man who guards all his possessions—” She tried to jerk her chin away. “I am not your poss—” He held her more firmly and continued as if she’d never spoken. “Where you are concerned, I am an exceedingly jealous man. I don’t like it when you have nuncheon with Dixon, just the two of you, flaunting your behavior for all our neighbors to see and speculate about. I don’t like it when you flirt and charm him every night at dinner and then answer me in monosyllables. And I don’t like it when you go off riding with my handsome young noble secretary—” “But we didn’t do anything.” “But you wanted me to think you might, didn’t you, Phoebe?” She opened her mouth to lie and deny it, suddenly ashamed that she had hoped to get a response out of him. But not one this frightening. Phoebe chewed her lip; what in the world could she say? “I don’t—er, I—” “It doesn’t matter,” he said coolly. “What matters is that I don’t like watching or knowing that Dixon gets to enjoy the pleasure of your company while you deny me. You are mine, Phoebe, mine alone. Mine to enjoy however and whenever I please.”
She’d not believed she could feel more naked, but when he raised the gauzy gown over her head and tossed it aside, she knew she’d been wrong. His lips parted and a low humming noise rumbled in his chest as he looked at her bare body. That was when it struck her that it was Phoebe who was causing her husband to flush and breathe harder. Exultation surged through her like sweet, slow-moving honey at the realization. She was the one making this man—who always appeared so untouchable—shake and sweat and gaze with hunger.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Historical Erotic Romance Series: Victorian Decadence, #3 Publisher: Crooked Sixpence Press Hero: Gideon Banks Heroine: Alys Taunton Sensuality: 4 Date of Publication: June 02, 2020 Started On: April 09, 2021 Finished On: April 09, 2021
Book 3 in the Victorian Decadence series brings to readers the story of 38 year old businessman Gideon Banks, who is legendary for his depravity, whose lecherous behavior had him expelled from Oxford at one point in time. Gideon makes no apologies for who he is, but at the same time, he increasingly finds himself dissatisfied with his lot in life, that is until he becomes the Sixth Earl of Taunton and finds himself saddled with the former mistress, Alys Taunton.
26 year old Alys becomes a widow after eight years of marriage, having become disillusioned with the institution itself. She wants nothing to do with marriage, but as society would have it, she requires the protection and good will of the new Earl if she were to survive. While Gideon believes Alys to be of the stuck up lot in high society, Alys wants one thing from Gideon: for him to tutor her in the pleasures of the flesh.
What starts off as a raunchy one-time sexual escapade, with Gideon who might have been reluctant at first, brings such heady pleasure to both, which of course makes Gideon wary of what that might mean in the long run. The resultant effect ends in a marriage of convenience for which Gideon lays down one basic rule – he does not do fidelity, nor does he expect it from his wife. However, each raw encounter with his wife brings Gideon to the brink of surrender to which he resists with all his might, until one final act of power play on his part results in what Gideon has been pursuing out of sheer fear.
I found His Countess to be great in terms of readability, when most romances these days are either too preachy for their own good and/or filled with modern jargon that strives to keep certain reader-bases happy. But in reality, what it does is remove the essence of the genre that makes for such raw and gut-wrenching reads. I want my books to mean something; the drama as long as it adds value to the story and fleshes out the characters well enough for me to fall in love.
I enjoyed the journey that Gideon takes towards his happily ever after, even though like in previous books, I cannot fathom wanting to have so many sexual partners all at the same time. I can understand the lure certainly, when it comes to a someone who can give you pleasure of the kind you have only ever dreamed of. We are hard pressed to come across just one single person who does that in real life, and for the protagonists in these stories to just get it on with anyone of their choosing is still a bit jarring for me.
In my opinion, men and women experience sexual pleasure differently aside from the fact that we all identify with raw animal magnetism of those that attract us at our very core. But that does not translate into gratification of the kind that seems to come so easily to the characters of these books, no matter what. For women, our minds play a key role in reaching fulfillment, but for men it is a different ballgame altogether. Perhaps, new age adults might believe differently, but quantity does not necessarily translate to quality in the short or long term.
My ramblings about sexual pleasure aside, these decadent books by Ms. LaViolette are unlike most historical romances readers would come across. While Ms. LaViolette categorizes these books as historical erotic romance and not erotica, I would say it is a bit of both. There are few authors who dare push the conventional boundaries of romance novels, and with Ms. LaViolette, I would say she has no boundaries to begin with, giving readers highly erotically charged reads that are hard to put down.
As most readers and fans of this series, I cannot help but yearn to read Smith’s story. However, I believe it would be quite a while yet, given what Ms. LaViolette has stated in that regard on Goodreads. One can keep hoping and praying that Smith lets Ms. LaViolette write his story and give us all what we want!
Recommended for fans of the series and those who love plenty of eroticism in their novels.
Final Verdict: While Gideon Banks might not have a conventional bone in his body, his countess changes it all. Great characterization renders this a page-turner!
Favorite Quotes
“That’s what I want—something physical, animal, those things you were doing to L-Lucy and Susan.” She swallowed. “I imagined you doing them to me.” Her words set off a commotion in his head—not to mention in his cock—that was too powerful to ignore. Gideon grabbed her arm and yanked her close, holding her clamped against him from hips to shoulders. “You are rapidly approaching a place where I will not turn back,” he snarled into her ear. “Do you understand?” “Yes . . . please.”
Alys made that embarrassing sound again and clamped her jaws shut. But her body’s trembling was beyond her control. “Never hold back from me, Alys. I want to hear every whimper, yell, groan, grunt, and gasp.” His finger elicited several of those examples immediately, whatever he was doing making her dizzy and weak. “Come for me, little one,” he urged. “That’s right,” he praised as her hips jerked. “Let go and soak my hand.” Her body responded to his crass order almost as much as his skilled touch and explosive, exquisite pleasure spread from that one little spot to every part of her.
Gideon held her gaze and pulsed gently in and out. “Do you want more, Alys?” he asked, his head almost dizzy with the effort of exercising restraint. “Yes, Gideon,” she said in a whisper. And then she flexed her pelvis and his iron control shattered. Gideon slammed into her, pounding her with hard, deep thrusts. “Tell me,” he rasped in between strokes. “Tell me when you’re close.” She never answered because she was already there. His restraint, already worn to threads, snapped and Gideon drove into her thrice more and then froze, emptying himself into her convulsing body.
“So tight. Clench for me, Alys.” Her entire body jerked as she contracted around him. He gave a husky laugh. “I like the way your cunt obeys my commands—like an obedient pet.” His hand began to pump, slow and deep, his middle finger grazing something exquisite inside her. “I want to shove myself inside you but our fun would be over far too quickly. So let me pleasure you, first. Let’s see how many times I can make my pet come.” It was his words as much as his actions that drove her toward the precipice with such dizzying speed. Any residual embarrassment at being so exposed slid away as he worked her with relentless, and increasing, intensity.
“You see, my love,” he’d gasped in between savage thrusts. “There is something to be said for riding astride. Now,” his jaw hardened and his nostrils flared, “Ride me to a lather.” Alys had to admit she’d enjoyed the vantage point and being in control of their rhythm—at least to a degree. He’d not been a passive partner but had exhibited breathtaking strength as he’d thrust upward into her, every line and curve of his body hard and taut. He’d made his pleasure obvious when he’d spent in her. “I love filling you with my seed,” he’d snarled in her ear while he pumped inside her. “I going to fuck you every chance I get, little one. I won’t be happy until you’re swollen with my child.”
“You see how excited you’ve made me?” He gave himself a pump, causing his slit to leak for her. “Tongue it, taste me,” he ordered, holding his cock by the root, the action making it look even bigger, thicker. She trembled as she leaned closer, opening her mouth. “Take my hips with both hands. Good. Now, show me your tongue—yes, like that, stick it out and make a point. And then poke it into my little hole.” The tentative touch of her hot tongue ripped a groan from his chest. “Christ! Yes,” he snarled, shoving his hands into her hair and holding her skull immobile. It took every ounce of self-control not to start fucking her mouth like the beast he was.
He opened his eyes, hungry to see her lips stretched around him. He grinned; she was sucking his fat head like it was a sweetie. “The part below the crown is the most sensitive,” he encouraged, shuddering when she immediately began to investigate. He allowed himself only the slightest pulsing of his hips, his fingers massaging her skull. “One day,” he told her through clenched jaws. “I’m going to fuck your mouth as hard as I fuck your cunt.” Her groan went right up his cock to his balls and he almost came.
“I’m going to check and see if you’ve been exercising for me.” He slammed into her without warning. A mortifying animal moan slipped from her mouth; fortunately it was drown out by Gideon’s crude grunts and words. “So. Fucking. Tight.” He punctuated each word with a brutal thrust. He was wicked for saying such things and she was twice as wicked for loving his filthy mouth. “You feel as delicious as you taste, my little pet.” His hips pounded savagely as he held her with fingers that would leave bruises. “I’m so looking forward to filling your body with my spend,” He said through clenched jaws. “I’ll fill all your holes, darling,” he whispered, the words so shocking Alys wasn’t quite sure she’d heard him correctly. “But not just yet, I think. First I want you to come for me.”
“You seem almost fey, this morning, Gideon?” He turned toward Alys, who was watching him with an affectionate look. He grinned. “I’m looking forward to my daily riding reward.” As he’d intended, she blushed and rolled her eyes. “You know, some people might consider riding itself a reward.” Gideon laughed. “Not me.” He allowed all his desire for her to show on his face. “I’m going to strip you naked, tie you to a tree, and spread your legs wide, exposing your beautiful body to the morning sun. The only thing I’ll let you wear is your boots.” He grinned. “And then I’m going to kneel between those delicious thighs and make you scream.”
“What do you think Silber would say if he saw you like this?” Pleasure rippled out from her tightly clenching sex. Alys only realized she was grunting and whimpering when he stepped closer and shoved a gloved finger between her folds. “Did you just come, Alys?” he demanded roughly, pumping the finger inside her still-contracting sex. “I think you did.” He flicked her sensitive bud and she cried out. “I think you love the thought of being watched, put on display.” He lifted his hand, the black leather slick with her juices.
“Please, Gideon.” “Please?” He cocked an eyebrow as he absently swatted the sensitive skin of her breasts, harder and harder. “Please what, darling?” “Please. I want—” He smiled like a cat that had eaten the canary. “What?” He smacked her mound and the stiff leather grazed her bud. “Do.” Smack. “You.” Smack. “Want?” Each swat brought her closer to yet another climax. Gideon dropped to his knees. “God, yes.” He spread her with sheathed, impersonal fingers and sucked her into his mouth.
“I can’t,” she gasped when he began to stroke her again. “Not again.” “Just once more,” he said. “See how I’m begging? Please. Come once more for me?” She groaned, but dropped her head, her shoulders dipping but her bottom pushing toward him, the position deliciously submissive. “My good, obedient girl,” he murmured, stroking into her with his cock while he slowly brought her to orgasm. When he felt the contractions coming, he fucked into her with vicious thrusts, until he could hold back no longer and drove himself deep, coming in wrenching jerks. Mine! Mine! Mine! He crowed inside his head, glorying in his possession and marking her with each spasm of his cock until he was aching and empty.
“Open for me,” he ordered sharply, smiling when her legs instantly parted. His warm, questing fingers slipped between her thighs and grazed the seam of her sex and he shoved two fingers right up into her body. Her throbbing body. Alys whimpered and pushed her hips to meet him. “Do you always get this wet and swollen when you are angry?” he growled in her ear, leaning closer, his arm moving in slow, deep thrusts. He bit her ear lobe and she jumped. “Never lie to me about what arouses you, Alys. Your fantasies are mine, all mine—they all belong to me. Now, open for your husband.” She spread wider to take him, her wanton body so greedy for the pleasure he could give that it didn’t care how mortified her mind was. “Say it,” he demanded. “You’re mine—you belong to me.” “I belong to you.”
Beyond the peep, it was as if they’d heard him. Or at least as if Alys had. Because they broke off kissing and grinding and the next thing he knew, Silber gently set Alys down and then led her to the seat that faced the peep—the closest one, the chair Gideon had most specifically instructed Jackson to arrange. They held hands for a moment and then Silber lowered himself into the chair, his huge body filling it. Alys turned her back to him and the stable master placed his monstrous hands around her slender waist and lifted her over his spread thighs. Alys opened her shapely legs and reached for his rod, her eyes not moving from the peephole as she guided the fat crown toward her entrance—an opening Gideon knew to be exquisitely tight—and then took him into her body, inch by goddamned inch, her white teeth biting her lower lip and eyelids fluttering. She wore a rapturous expression as her body absorbed Silber’s ridiculous organ, until she was stuffed full, her body utterly impaled. Gideon’s hand was nowhere near his cock when he came, splattering onto his waistcoat. His eyes flickered closed as his hips spasmed, powerful contractions wracking his body.
His hips began to buck, his control visibly slipping as he drove into her with primitive force, the muscles of his torso, back and shoulders gloriously defined as he held her arms immobile. His jaw clenched in a grimace as he pounded into her so hard Alys swore she could feel it inside her own wet, swollen body. He thrust deep and then froze, the powerful muscles of his buttocks clenching as he jerked into her. Alys knew what it would feel like—hot jets of his spend filling her, the contractions of his shaft throbbing against her sensitive sheath. She shoved her hand between her thighs and grunted as her finger finished what Jackson had started. As she came, biting her lip hard to suppress her cries, Jackson’s eyes opened, as if he knew. And then he did something she’d not believed possible: he smiled.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Historical Romance Series: The Academy of Love, #2 Publisher: Crooked Sixpence Press Hero: Gareth Lockheart Heroine: Serena Lombard Sensuality: 3.5 Date of Publication: March 03, 2020 Started On: February 20, 2021 Finished On: March 13, 2021
The Academy of Love series by Minerva Spencer tells the stories of seven Regency Era teachers who while in pursuit of ork, find themselves immersed in lessons in love of the kind to last a lifetime. A Figure of Love is the second installment in the series, bringing to readers the tale of widower Serena Lombard and 35 year old Gareth Lockheart, a self-made aristocrat in England.
Gareth is a man of few words and controlled emotions. Having grown up at an orphanage and having been at the receiving end of the worst that humanity has to offer, Gareth has the emotional scars to prove it. One of the richest men in England, Gareth knows that taking his businesses to the next level requires that something elusive which would need him to make his entrance into the genteel world of society’s accepted breed of aristocrats.
Designing his country house to standards befitting that of the world he plans to inhabits is how Serena comes into his life. A French emigrant who is the widow of the youngest son of a Duke and Duchess, Serena is someone who defies the conventions and has been working towards making a name for herself as a respected sculptor and landscape gardener.
Neither of them are what they expect each other to be, and for Serena, Gareth is the man who unlocks her passions and makes her want a significant other after years of living through excruciating loneliness. In her heart, Serena is the woman who thaws the heart of the enigmatic man that is Gareth, but in reality, she knows that the secrets that she hides would never let it be so.
I loved this story on so many levels, Gareth being the first and foremost reason. He is the kind of hero that speaks to you in every single way that matters without him having to utter a single word. Ms. Spencer has done a remarkable job in bringing him to life, his sheer presence enough to make you feel as if he is your whole world. His fascination with numbers, his faithful nature even if it may seem unwarranted at that point, all that and more tells you the kind of man he is deep inside.
His passions lie dormant, not because he does not feel them, but because he reserves them for those whom he feels it to be worthy of. In Serena, he finds the woman who shakes him up in a way no other woman has, and he knows that it is futile to deny his burgeoning feelings of desire and need for her, which is when Ms. Spencer with her remarkable flair ushers in the kind of love scenes that leaves the reader in a state of stunned anticipation for more.
Serena was a swell heroine, just the right touch of everything that is needed for Gareth. With a young son in tow, it is the secrets that she carries which puts her and those she cares about in danger. And it is her need to protect Gareth from that ugly reality which lands her in an untenable situation which drives the story to its climax and beyond.
In my opinion, Gareth was the star of this story – there is something about a strong and silent hero that just speaks to me on a level that is indescribable. I loved Serena too, she loves Gareth and all that he is just as fiercely as he does her, and is protective of him in a way that no one has ever been all through his life. I also loved the character of her son – his character meshes well with that of Gareth, which made for enjoyable reading.
Recommended for fans of Ms. Spencer, fans of the series, and fans of Regency Era romances! Romance, suspense, and toe-curling sex – this one has got it all!
Final Verdict: Featuring exquisitely crafted scenes of scrumptious passion that is trademark Ms. Spencer, A Figure in Love is a notable addition to this beautifully crafted series!
Favorite Quotes
He walked her slowly toward the wall, rubbing the stiff length of his erection against her as he pushed, until her shoulders hit the wall, but he kept coming. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. His stiff length drew an answering pulse from her sex and she imagined his strong, insistent body entering hers, plunging into her with all the strength she knew he possessed. She could feel the struggle of will and desire that raged inside him. The slightest sign from her and he would take her right here, against the wall.
Serena had never been so cold in her life, but when his eyes swept over her, she burst into flames. And when he lowered his mouth to hers, she forgot all about the cold and slid her arms around his taut waist, this time resting both palms on his bottom. He made a muffled sound of approval and pushed closer, the soft leather of his breeches cool and smooth against her belly. He kissed as if he wanted to devour her, his lips demanding, his tongue invading, his teeth grazing and nipping as long, powerful fingers massaged their way down her neck, until they rested on her shoulders.
Serena cried out when he flicked a cold, hard nipple with the hot tip of his tongue, and then was gone. She pushed herself against him. More. He took her in his mouth and suckled her until warmth radiated out from her breast. “So beautiful,” he whispered into the hollow between her breasts, and then moved to her other nipple and tormented her until she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming.
“Unbutton me.” A rush of pleasure shot through her at the sound of his command, spoken in such hushed passion. She pushed a hand between their bodies, tracing the hard length of him thrusting against the soft leather. He groaned and tightened his hold, his fingers sinking into her soft flesh. She stroked him again and again and again, until his powerful body vibrated with need, and then, with a few deft flicks, she opened the flap of his breeches and released him.
They gasped as he sheathed himself fully, the echoes of her climax contracting around his thick shaft. His body jerked and arched, the muscles of his stomach, chest, and shoulders so defined they looked as if they’d been carved from the finest alabaster. Serena leaned forward until her breasts grazed his chest, her hands fisting the blanket on each side of his shoulders as she tilted to take him even deeper. Barely an inch separated their faces and this close to him she saw the fine, icy gray shards that made up his irises. She tightened her inner muscles and his eyes widened, his hands like butterflies on her waist.
“Are you angry with me?” The question stopped him like a stone wall. Before he could think of an answer, she touched him, her hand on his chest as light as a soft breeze. Gareth’s control snapped and he crushed her mouth with a ferocity that left the metallic taste of blood flooding his mouth. His blood, her blood, both, he didn’t know or care. Her fingers plunged into his hair and she yanked him down, meeting his violently ravaging tongue with her own.
“I want to bury myself deep inside you.” He ground his length against her, making her gasp while he whispered in her ear, “But I think you know that, don’t you?” He stepped away, until their bodies were no longer touching and raised his hands, palm out, barely grazing the erect tips of her breasts, caressing them with light, circular motions. She jerked and bucked against him, her back arching, the impressive muscles of her arms like the taut strings of a bow as she clutched the wooden door frame above her head and strained toward him.
“You can release the door frame now.” Triumph and amusement echoed in his words but she didn’t care. She’d do whatever he asked of her to feel that way again. “Touch me.” She fell on his mouth like a starving person, consuming him as he’d just done her, tasting herself on his tongue. He lifted her higher while they kissed, until she felt his hot, insistent crown nudging against her sex. He leaned away from her, just far enough that she could see between their bodies. His stomach, lean, ridged, and sweaty, hers flushed, soft, and trembling. He lifted her higher, until she could see his erection. “Guide me inside you.”
He turned his head and gently bit the side of her breast. She laughed. “Are you going to eat me?” His hot mouth roamed her body above the thin gauze of her gown, nipping and sucking her until the fabric was damp. “When we return to Rushton I am going to tie your arms and legs to the four posts of my bed—tightly, so you cannot move or squirm away. And when you are bound and spread for me, I will take my pleasure. And I will lick and suck and bite every part of you.” The words and the raw, confident desire with which he spoke them sent a crippling wave of lust straight to her core.
He scooped her up in his arms and strode into the adjacent room. She watched him slit-eyed through a haze of pure contentment, laughing when he tossed her onto the bed and positioned himself at the edge. His face was hard and his eyes burning into her as he ripped open the fall on his breeches and freed himself. Serena was already inching toward him when he slid his hands beneath her thighs, jerked her toward him and lifted her hips off the bed, entering her with a savage thrust.
He lifted her skirt and petticoats to her hips, his cock pulsing at the unbearably erotic sight of her serviceable stockings and the plain garters that held them just above her knees, nothing but smooth, naked thigh above them until . . . His mouth flooded with moisture at the sight of her curls. She lifted her eyebrows high. “Novice?” Her thumb swirled his hard, slick head and she grazed him lightly with her nails. Gareth jolted under the intoxicating combination of pleasure and pain. “Dammit, Serena!” “Language, Gareth.” He pushed away her hand and positioned himself at the hot, wet entrance to her body, bringing her down hard. They both gasped and then froze, reveling in their joining.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Historical Romance Series: Victorian Decadence, #2 Publisher: Crooked Sixpence Press Hero: Stephen Chatham Heroine: Joseph Edward Leather Sensuality: 4 Date of Publication: May 19, 2020 Started On: January 23, 2021 Finished On: January 28, 2021
His Valet is the second installment in the Victorian Decadence series by S.M. LaViolette. The story brings together 27 year old Joseph Edward Leather (Jo), who has been employed as a valet to 42 year old Stephen Chatham for quite sometime, and falls in love with her employer along the way, a man who wouldn’t look twice at her for all intents and purposes.
Jo is someone who has been working since the tender age of seven years. Her father had taught her to be nothing but exemplary in her servitude. Devotion is all that has been ingrained into her, not to mention the fact that she has spent her entire life pretending to be a man, the only way of life she has ever known. Even if it meant foregoing own sense of self-dignity, that is what Jo’s father drilled into her and her brother, and that is the code of ethics by which she lives.
Jo does not ever dream of a conventional happily ever after nor marriage for her. The only thing that she yearns for with every fiber of her being is to be with Stephen and when the opportunity presents itself, indulge she does for the five nights she pretends to be someone else.
When the truth comes out, Jo knows that the price she would have to pay would be immense, and even then, she is ill-prepared for the white hot anger that rules every decision Stephen makes thereon. Stephen, who has been burnt once and is twice shy, loathes deception of any kind. In Jo, Stephen sees only what he wants to see, and therein lies the battle which he must wage and win over himself, if Stephen and Jo were to have any chance in having a future together.
I loved the story line and the main protagonists better than I did those in the debut book of the series. Stephen is a compelling character and with Jo, he finds the answer to his every desire, the whys of which he doesn’t want to look into too closely lest it takes him in a direction that is far too uncomfortable for him to ponder on.
Jo’s character is the one that shines bright in the story, and I believe it is as Ms. LaViolette intended it to be. Her character makes one question their conceptions about the gender which they identify with, and it is something that I have never really thought much about. But Jo’s predicament is all too well understood, given how she was brought up and the fact that she has never had the freedom to understand enough to choose who she wanted to be.
It is with the enigmatic Mr. Smith that Jo truly finds the freedom to explore her mind and conscience, and to understand herself enough to be comfortable in her own skin and most of all, to love her own self. And it is those terms upon which Stephen must try to reconcile his own feelings with, if ever these two were to have their own version of a happily ever after.
The second lead game was strong in this novel; which is often felt when you are watching Korean dramas that strongly rely on love triangles to bring the angst factor forward. For me, the fact that I fell hard for Mr. Smith and my heart wept for him spells trouble with a capital T. It means that I am in a shit load of trouble even before Ms. LaViolette has released Smith’s own story, which I do not think I would ever be ready for. The fact that most fans of this series would want to get their hands on his novel is a foregone conclusion, and a Goodreads discussion on the author’s page proved me right.
Ms. LaViolette mentions that she is actually 3/4 through with his story and had to stop, because she too is learning that Smith is a difficult character who views sex and love to be completely separate and views love to be rarer than the practice of fidelity to someone. He is neither an easy person to love nor a nice person and his past even shocked Ms. LaViolette as she wrote the book.
So here I am hoping that one day soon, Ms. LaViolette gets the courage to start where she left it off and give us the story of the character that all our hearts collectively yearn for. I know it wouldn’t be an easy read by any means, but it would totally be worth it.
When all was said and done, Jo and Stephen did leave me with one burning question at the end – how would they fare as they go through the different phases of life together in their relationship; would either of them want more than the other can give? Would it always be enough, for her to be his valet and he her master in a way? I don’t think there are any easy answers to any of these questions.
Recommended for fans of Ms. LaViolette and fans of dark erotic romances in a historical setting.
Final Verdict: Thought provoking is not a phrase you would usually apply to an erotic romance, but in His Valet, Ms. LaViolette has outdone herself in giving readers characters that leaves the strongest impression on you!
Favorite Quotes
His lips curved into a smile she never thought she’d see directed toward her. “Lift your skirts higher for me.” Her hands responded to his order just as they always did, and his gaze dropped to her thighs. He’d somehow managed to take off her other slipper without her being aware of it. “I want to leave your stockings on,” he told her as she lifted her hem, exposing her shaved sex. Heat flared in his eyes, dark, smoky and explosive—just like the savage, uncontrollable peat fires Jo had once seen when she’d been a girl. “God, yes. You are exactly the way I like,” he murmured. “So smooth, soft, sleek.”
“Should I ease in slowly, or do you want me to get it over with?” “Get it—” The marble phallus had not prepared her for the sensation of his thick, hot, and remarkably long organ sliding into her body. “My God you’re tight,” he whispered against her ear when he paused. “Is it terribly painful? Should I give you more? Or wait?” More?! She’d thought he was already all the way in. He was bloody huge and Jo was afraid she might scream if she opened her mouth so she clenched her jaws tight and whispered, “More.”
“Not yet,” he hissed between clenched teeth, his hips pounding without mercy. “Not yet, not yet, not—fuck!” He threw back his head and roared, driving into Gillian so hard that her head bumped Jo’s belly. “Now,” he ordered, hilted in the other woman. “Come now.” Jo’s back spasmed and arched, until it felt like it would snap, and she hurtled over the edge into oblivion.
“Hello, Stephen.” Stephen slammed the armoire door and strode toward her without speaking, pulled off her hat, tossing it aside, and crushed her mouth with his, as if he’d not seen her in a year, instead of only a night. She gave as hard as she got and they were both breathless when he finally pulled away. “Hello, Josephine.”
“Do you like it, Josephine?” he asked in a voice that was rough with restraint. Jo pressed herself against him, the action pushing him deeper, causing a dull pain to radiate from where they were joined. She felt the change in his body, the subtle loosening of control, like a rope that had been cut and was beginning to fray faster and faster. “Fuck,” he said, groaning. His arm slid around her waist and his fingers fanned over her belly, holding her body against his while he invaded her inch by inch by inch. Just the thought of what they were doing—so filthy and primitive and wrong—made every muscle clench. “Josephine,” he whispered, shuddering.
Stephen whispered in her ear, his voice harsh. “I can’t restrain myself much longer, Josephine. Do you want it?” “Yes, Stephen. . . please.” Stephen must have made some sign because Julian left her body and stepped back, his cock jutting heavy and slick in front of him, his expression tense with the effort of holding back his orgasm. It was Jo’s turn to smile and then she closed her eyes and opened her body to the man she loved, heart and soul. Stephen’s pounding became savage, his hips pumping mercilessly now. “I’m going to come in you, Josephine. I’m going to—” he gave loud, guttural cry as he thrust deep and froze, holding her in an unbreakable embrace while his cock spasmed and flooded her with his seed.
When his mouth slanted over hers, her hands did what they’d been wanting to do for weeks and slid around his smooth, muscular torso. He groaned and pulled her against him, his arm like an iron strap around her waist. His mouth was silken and tasted like liquor and smoke from his strangely fragrant cigars. His kisses were as firm and hot and powerful as he was.
He grazed her breast with his teeth and she whimpered as he slid a hand down the front of her trousers, beneath the waistband, and then stopped on her mound, groaning. “Oh, God, I love a shaved cunt,” he whispered into her breast before dropping into a crouch and grabbing both sides of her placket and then ripping her trousers right down the middle. Jo gasped. “Oh, no, but—” “Hush,” he muttered, yanking the string that held up her drawers. “I’ll buy you another dozen pairs. Good Lord your body is beautiful.” He dropped to his haunches and spread her lower lips with his thumbs and plunged his tongue into her, his moan vibrating through her body.
“Stockings stay on while I fuck you, I think,” he said, panting as he knelt between her spread thighs, staring down at her with black eyes that were heavy with need. “This is an emergency, darling, and I’m going to ejaculate with shocking haste. But the next time will be up to my usual standards.” Jo laughed breathlessly and spread wide for him as he placed his beautiful cock at her soaking entrance and slammed into her, pulling her tight to his body as he entered. He held her full for a moment, his eyes locked with hers, his chest rising and falling as if he were being chased. “How do you want it? Hard, hard, or hard?” he asked. Jo couldn’t help laughing. “What was that third one agai—” He began to fuck her with furious, violent thrusts, his teeth gritted and his jaw clenched as he pounded into her, angling his hips for the deepest penetration. He worked her so savagely she knew there would be bruises.
Format: E-Book Read with: Kindle Paperwhite Length: Novel Genre: Historical Romance Series: The Academy of Love, #1 Publisher: Crooked Sixpence Press Hero: Portia Stefani Heroine: Eustace Harrington Sensuality: 3 Date of Publication: December 31, 2019 Started On: December 20, 2019 Finished On: December 23, 2019
“Never hide your sensual nature. Passion is something to be proud of, even though men try to shame women for taking pleasure from their bodies.” – Benedict Carruthers
The Music of Love by S.M. LaViolette aka Minerva Spencer is set to hit the book stands on the 31st of this month. The debut to an all brand new series, The Academy of Love, this title is a bit different in prose and style in comparison to The Outcasts series which I have adored and enjoyed for the most part.
29 year old Portia Stefani, having found out that her husband had been in a bigamous relationship with her, finds herself in dire straits, with nowhere to turn to, except to deceive her way into ensuring employment with Eustace Harrington, who had wanted to employ her “husband’s” music teaching services.
35 year old Eustace (Stacy), suffers from albinism, and lives in isolation for the most part of his days. Having made peace with the fact that he would remain so for the rest of his life, it is something of a surprise when instead of Ivo who he had been expecting, his wife turns up in his stead. Hiring Portia, who is willful, passionate, and obstinate for a grace period, Stacy knows that the way he reacts to her physically could be problematic down the line.
Contrary to what Stacy has experienced when it comes to most who view his condition, Portia sees beyond that to a man who is gentle, kind, firm, and responsible, a man worthy of someone’s love, passion, and loyalty. Portia sees the aristocratic beauty to him, the sensuality that is one with his physique. Though Portia believes herself to be cynical enough not to succumb, she finds herself doing just that, as the passion between them bursts forth in all its glorious abandon.
However, there are forces at play in both Stacy and Portia’s life, who could prove to be detrimental to the happiness that seems to be within reach and elusive at the same time, as Stacy and Portia navigate the often treacherous waters surrounding their lives.
I loved The Music of Love because it was so different in many ways. For one thing, Portia was a heroine who was refreshing on many levels because she was no innocent to the pleasures of the flesh. She is a woman who knows what she wants, and is not afraid of seeking that pleasure with her partner. Even though her “husband” had tried to fault her for it, tried to make her feel ashamed, there is a reservoir of fire inside of her that refuses to be put out.
Stacy was a marvelous character in his own right. He has very few prejudices (if he has any), and he doesn’t find fault with a woman who seeks to attain pleasure that is rightfully hers in a consensual relationship between two adults. Though he of course feels the twinges of jealousy and possessiveness, raw feelings of the kind he thought he would never feel, there is a tenderness and ferocity to his passion for Portia that was beautiful in many ways.
I loved the passion in the story. There is so much fire between Stacy and Portia that it is hard to remain unaffected. I believe Minerva has more than made up for the lack of heat I found in Scandalous, the 3rd book in The Outcasts series, which I found a trifle bit disappointing in that regard. When an author introduces characters who are fiery and passionate, even if they tamp down their desires in the face of societal norms, there is no point to a relationship, if the character is unable to be true to their nature with their significant other when the story comes to pass.
I fell in love with Stacy from the moment I met him in the story. Contrary to many male lead characters who live in isolation owing to various ailments that society had refused to consider as part of them, perhaps Stacy’s temperament and attitude towards life was what it is, largely owing to how he had been brought up, without having to face the ugly realities that could have easily being his life, if not for a certain member of his family.
The culmination of the events that leads up to the ending had twists and turns that I didn’t see coming; which happens rarely when you read so many books of the nature. For that alone, I enjoyed the marvelous escape this novel provided, and am eagerly looking forward to the second installment of the series, of which the excerpt is included towards the end of the book. There would probably be seven installments in the series, the secondary characters whom (some of them) made an appearance in the story throughout.
Recommended for those who love historical romances with a bit of intrigue and a hero who by his very nature makes you fall hopelessly in love.
Final Verdict: The Music of Love combines tempestuous passion and zeal of two characters who are compassionate, intense, and wilful. The forces combined are unstoppable and makes one fall, and fall hard.
Favorite Quotes
When he pulled out she made an unspeakably erotic sound deep in her throat, grabbed a handful of his hair, and yanked his head up. Her eyes bored into his, black with need. “Fuck me, Stacy.” His jaw dropped. Had she really said what he thought she said? “Now,” she growled. Stacy obeyed without thinking and slammed into her hard. “Yes.” The word was a satisfied hiss and her eyelids fluttered closed. He used her with such unrestrained savagery that some part of him worried he was bruising her. But she met him thrust for violent thrust, her body as hungry as his own. Her climax built quickly and he redoubled his efforts, his hips pounding into her faster, deeper.
She was waiting for him and her hands went around his neck even as his slid around her body. He crushed her mouth under his. The kiss was the physical equivalent of the music she’d just played: fierce, unbridled, and mad. He couldn’t get deep enough inside her, couldn’t get enough of her mouth, her taste, her heat. It felt like years since that glorious night in the stables. She made a gravelly noise in her throat and her fingers threaded into his hair and tugged painfully as her mouth moved from his lips down his face. She bit him on the chin, hard. Stacy heard himself utter the words he swore he’d not speak. “I want you. Now.”
“My God,” he whispered, and then slid his free hand between her legs and found what he wanted. “Tell me how I should fuck you,” he ordered, thumbing her stiff, sensitive bud. “I want to hear you say it.” Her body shuddered at the vulgar word and Stacy guided his shaft between her spread thighs and pushed the slick crown against her tight opening, but not enough to breech her. “Tell me,” he said harshly, ceasing his suggestive stroking. She canted her hips even more and shoved back against him. “Hard, Stacy. Fuck me hard.”
“You’re a god,” she said, her voice low and harsh with want. His jaw tightened and his thick shaft jerked, the slit in the fat, smooth crown leaking freely. Portia smiled at the delicious evidence of his desire; he was so close to spending. It would take only a few touches from her— “You are a devil.” His words pulled her eyes from his erection. He wrapped one large hand around her throat and held her gently but firmly pinned to the bed. The dominating gesture was unspeakably erotic and she spread wider for him. His red eyes became twin black pools as he dragged his free hand down her chest, between her breasts, leaving her eager nipples untouched. He had a clear destination and didn’t linger until he reached the dark tangle between her legs. He parted her swollen lips and thrust a finger inside. She arched against the sudden invasion, desperate for more.
Portia gloried in her ability to undo him; working him until he had nothing left to give. Only then did she pull back and release him, doubling over and gasping for breath, her lungs on fire. It took several moments before she could look up at him. He stared down at her with a dazed expression, his lips parted and his chest rising and falling as if he’d been running. He shook his head and then took her arms and lifted her to her feet. “Portia.” She turned, refusing to look at him. She hated him. She loved him.
Portia stopped as suddenly as she’d started, leaving him hard and wanting. He opened his eyes a crack. She’d hiked her skirt and petticoat and tucked them into the front of her bodice before clambering onto the bed and straddling him. She stared at him as she guided him to her entrance, lowering herself onto him with a violence that robbed his lungs of air. Daylight streamed through the windows and it was brighter than any room they’d ever made love in. Stacy could not keep his eyes from consuming her. Her lips parted as she rode him. “Tell me what you want, Mr. Harrington.”
“Come closer.” She pushed herself closer, the motions awkward, like a crab forced to walk forward. “Closer.” The single guttural word made her shudder and Portia scooted until she was close enough to feel the heat of his uneven breathing on the sensitive skin of her thighs. He lifted wet hands and parted her lips, his touch warm and feather-light. When he looked up the red was no more than a ring around swollen black pupils. He slid low in the water before leaning into her, his eyes holding hers while the very tip of his tongue found her peak.
In a few brusque motions he lifted her, set her on her feet, and bent her over the tub, shoving her knees wide before stroking her hot cleft with his equally hot shaft. And then he thrust into her so hard she had to brace her hands to keep from falling over the rim and into the water. He pulled all the way out and teased her entrance with his swollen head as he wound her hair around his hand, the motion arching her back and back and back until she felt her spine might snap. He held her body taut and immobile while he breached her only with the fat crown.
“Have you missed this?” he hissed, his chest slick and hard against her back, his breath hot against her ear. “Have you missed my cock inside your body? My fingers? My tongue?” he taunted before pounding her with a series of savage thrusts that left her dizzy. He stopped again, buried to the hilt, his shaft so hard she could feel him pulsing inside her. “Did you pleasure yourself, Portia?” His voice throbbed with a tangle of desire, anger, and hurt. “I did. I stroked myself raw thinking about you.” He pulled out with agonizing slowness and then impaled her with a brutal thrust. Portia almost climaxed from his words alone.
A Maldivian's Passion for Romance 