Category / Endearing Heroine

by mvbookreviewer

Review: The One in My Heart by Sherry Thomas

Format: E-booktheoneinmyheart
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Bennett Oliver Stuart Somerset
Heroine: Evangeline Canterbury
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: April 20, 2015
Started On: August 22, 2015
Finished On: August 28, 2015

“Praise the Lord,” he murmured, slipping off my undies, “for a woman who can bring me to my knees.”

The One in My Heart is Sherry Thomas’ first foray into the world of contemporary romance. Written in the first person, The One in My Heart is a novel that firmly entrenches itself in the reader’s heart as you go deeper into the story. If you have read any of my reviews on Ms. Thomas’ historical romances, you’d know that I always praise her for her ability to write stories in such poetic prose – there is no other way to describe what her words does to you. They just flow through you, become one with you, as if you have been waiting your whole life for those words to come to you.

The One in My Heart starts on a dark stormy night, when Evangeline Canterbury, while walking home, altogether too depressed for words, runs into the enigmatic, charming and handsome Dr. Bennett Oliver Stuart Somerset. What happens in the next couple of hours is a connection of the instantaneous variety, the kind that sears through the walls of reserved indifference on the part of Evangeline.

Months later, Evangeline encounters the good doctor again, only to be persuaded to help him in a scheme to get back into the good graces of his family, a family he had walked away from in the pursuit of the only woman who had owned his heart. Evangeline knows that when it comes to Bennett, that her heart is in serious jeopardy of falling, and falling hard. The one thing Evangeline has always evaded is getting too close to anyone who could hurt her because life had taught her that in abundance.

What follows is as delicious as it is heartbreaking and reaffirming. Ms. Thomas takes you on a journey of the type that is not easy to forget, that just consumes you as a whole. I couldn’t get enough of Evangeline and Bennett once I got into the story, nor would my stomach settle down from the nervous anticipation of the ultimate destruction of their non-relationship relationship when it happened. A good romance is one where all your emotions are involved and there is no holding back. And Ms. Thomas delivered just that with The One in My Heart.

The One in My Heart has a bit of a slow start to it. But 2-3 chapters in, and bam, you are hooked, line & sinker & there’s no turning back. The infamous Sherry Thomas magic was present in spades in this one. Being her first & only contemporary romance to-date, I’d say Ms. Thomas definitely has had zero issues in transitioning from the historical genre to the contemporary. A job well done, I must heartily admit.

One thing that surprised me though, was the first person take of the story. None of her historical romances are told in the first person, & yet Ms. Thomas made this work too. Though I truly wanted to get inside the mind of the charmingly sexy Bennett, Ms. Thomas did an excellent job of making the reader not feel too cheated out on in that aspect.When Bennett laid out his side of the story, when everything clicked so well in that a-ha! moment, that was when I truly felt my heart quake inside my chest.

Bennett totally invaded my heart & soul, ravaged my mind & left it all muddled with all the effortless charm and sexy he brought to the story. If there’s anything that makes a girl salivate over a romance is a hero presented well, a hero that can turn your half-hearted “no” to a complete “Oh my God yes!” in a heartbeat. When Bennett pushed Evangeline against the wall and had his way with her, this just mere hours after their first encounter, well, that was my “you had me at hello” moment when it came to him. With his penchant for older women & tendency to fall in love at first sight, well, lets just say that Bennett can turn up on my doorstep any day with just his trench coat on & nothing else. Well, a girl can always dream, can’t she? A hero who is so beautifully portrayed as you sink deeper into the story, that you can’t help but sigh endlessly over his character. Yes ladies, Bennett is that salivation worthy!

Evangeline was the tough cookie in this novel. But she was just as endearing, especially with her high wall of reinforced steel guarding her vulnerabilities & emotions, adept at playing dodge with the messier aspects of relationships. Evangeline actually prefers her existence the way it is, but then Bennett had to enter into it, entice her into saying yes to being his fake girlfriend and before she knew it, she’d fallen head over heels for the man. The fact that Bennett loved Evangeline too much to not let her hide behind barriers, to shake her out of the contentment she seeks in never showing her true self to anyone, made me love him just more. Evangeline’s attempts to thwart all efforts by Bennett to let him in was heartbreaking to watch, but I think that was exactly the jolt she needed to really face her past, exorcise the ghosts and move on.

Loved the secondary characters, the little tidbits about them that made the story that much better & enticing. I could’ve kept on reading and reading about Bennett & Evangeline, but like everything else that is good and beautiful, the end did come. A beautifully fitting end to an otherwise golf-sized-lumps-in-your throat variety of story. Icing on the cake was the fact that this story is very loosely tied to one of the most emotional historical romances from Ms. Thomas that I’ve read & reviewed to date; Private Arrangements. I continually find myself amazed at Ms. Thomas’ ability to make the unworkable work. Private Arrangements has such a storyline. The One in My Heart has the other woman done to a T, but yet, it doesn’t leave you feeling like the heroine got second helpings when it came to the hero, nor did it paint his first love as a villainous harlot that you absolutely had to hate. Absolute genius is Sherry Thomas!

Ms. Thomas definitely proved to be a quick study when it came to her first contemporary romance. Nothing short of splendid! Absolutely worth your time. Highly recommended.

Final Verdict: Beautiful in its prose & darkly emotional; The One in My Heart will completely & utterly ruin you!

Favorite Quotes

I panted, the sound primal. Animal.
He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, revealing a runner’s build: strong shoulders, slim waist, beautifully cut abdomen.
I closed my eyes for a moment, overcome by lust. When I opened them again, it was to the sight of my hand on his upper arm. And then I did something that surprised me: I leaned in and nipped his shoulder.
He grunted. I found myself pressed hard against the wall, his hand between my thighs. For a moment I thought he’d be rough, but he touched me lightly, delicious little caresses at just the right places.
“Yes,” I whimpered. “Yes.”

“You see this?” he asked as he laid me down on the chaise. “When I come back from thirty hours in the hospital, I don’t even bother going up to the bedroom. I just sleep right here. But before I go to sleep I masturbate, and I think about you—under me, over me, and maybe bent over the armrest. Every time, without fail.”
I was unbelievably turned on.
He yanked off my boots. Reaching under my skirt, he peeled away my tights and my underwear. Now he undressed, smoothed on a condom, and pushed my skirt up around my waist. Then, in one motion, he was all the way inside me.

“Do you know why I think of you?” He spoke directly into my ear. “You make me come instantly. I put my hand on myself, picture you naked, and I come like a fourteen-year-old.”
The pleasure of his body was volcanic. The pleasure of his words was a conflagration. I was already on the verge when he said, “I come so fast that sometimes I have to masturbate one more time. And when I do that, I imagine fucking you all night long.”
My orgasm was a bullet to the head, a shocking starburst. His was similarly thorough and ferocious. But he didn’t stop. He kept going, kissing my face, my throat, my breasts, until I was trembling again.
Until together we fell over the edge again.

He pulled the sweater over my head and did the same for the camisole I wore underneath, exposing my bra. And then he pushed down my skirt and tights to reveal a pair of matching underpants. They were both basic black—I hadn’t wanted to look as if I’d planned to be disrobed.
“Praise the Lord,” he murmured, slipping off my undies, “for a woman who can bring me to my knees.”

“Do you know you have the perfect face for a nun—as if you have only prayers on your mind? And then there are those times when it all changes, and you look pornographically turned on.”
He pried open my legs and caressed the places I’d tried to conceal from him. Pleasure flooded me.
“Do I look like that now?” I heard myself ask, my voice raspy.
It was his turn to sound unsteady. “Yes.”
He went down on me. And it felt so good, I had to bite down on my lower lip to not sound as aroused as I felt. But by the time he brought me to my third orgasm, I had given up any and all attempt to be quiet and contained.
Then he was inside me, huge and hard. And just like that, I was again pornographically turned on.

“You. I masturbate to you.”
At this he resumed that wonderful cadence that gave me so much pleasure. “Keep talking.”
“I imagine…” I panted. “I imagine running into you unexpectedly, somewhere out of town.”
“Somewhere like Munich?”
I quaked inside. “Maybe.”
“And then?”
“And then you pull me into your hotel room, lock the door, and fuck me.”
[..]
“Do I fuck you all night?” His voice was rough, demanding.
I closed my eyes even tighter. “Yes.”
He rammed into me. “But you never called. And you never texted.”
And I came like an asteroid striking ground.

“You know what I want?” His voice turned raspy. “I want to fuck you before I go to work. And I want to fuck you right after I come back home.”
I might have ripped apart his vest. I definitely heard shirt studs pinging into the headboard. Keep talking. Keep telling me how much you want me.
And don’t ever stop.
“I want to see you naked against a wall again. I want to see the way you look at me. You have such hungry eyes.”

He bit my earlobe. “Do you know what I really want?”
“What?” I gasped.
“I want to fuck you bareback. Every inch of me, feeling every inch of you.”
Damn him. Those words made me peak again—violently. At least he joined me this time, his orgasm equally untrammeled.

He gripped the back of the chaise, his teeth gritted. “God, Eva.”
I braced my hands on his shoulders. “This is what you want, isn’t it? To fuck me bareback?”
For a minute only the sounds of our heavy, ungovernable breaths filled the air as my hips lifted and lowered, merging with him again and again.
Then he wrapped his arms around me and brought me close to him. “Yes, this is what I’ve always wanted, to make love to you with nothing between us.”
And I was lost.
We were both lost.

Unhurriedly he kissed me everywhere. Without any haste he entered me. We kissed, our bodies joined, and went on kissing, until slow-simmering pleasures again more turned needy and frantic.
“I love the taste of your lips,” he whispered in my ear. “I love the texture of your skin. I love the sound of your breaths. “
And then: “I love everything about…about this moment.”
The orgasm that ensued was the most intense one yet.

“In Henry V, King Henry says to Kate, ‘You have witchcraft in your lips,’”
Bennett murmured sleepily. “Do you know where you have witchcraft, Eva?”
“Do tell,” I answered archly, expecting him to heap praise on my private parts.
He pressed a kiss into my shoulder. “In your eyes.”

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | ARe | eBookMall | SW | iTunes

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Friction by Sandra Brown

Format: E-bookfriction
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Crawford Hunt
Heroine: Holly Spencer
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: August 18, 2015
Started On: August 19, 2015
Finished On: August 22, 2015

“You don’t have a claim.”
His eyes narrowed. “I kinda do.” He started walking toward her, and for each step forward he took, she took one back until she came up against her desk. “That unreasonable, unrefined fuck on your sofa gave me a claim.”

Sandra Brown is one of those authors that I always look forward to reading. Since Ms. Brown publishes just one novel a year of late, her stories have become that much more coveted. Because in a genre that is overburdened with stories that don’t really make the cut, Ms. Brown still manages to deliver highly readable ones, worth every penny they cost you.

Texas Ranger Crawford Hunt is pursuing the battle of his life, i.e. the battle for custody of his daughter Georgia. On the day of the verdict, like a nightmare that you can’t wake up from, a lone gunman bursts into the courtroom, firing his weapon, not giving much of a consideration at who might be hit. Acting on instinct, Crawford saves Judge Holly Spencer’s life, the woman who actually stands between him and the custody of his daughter.

Unwillingly, Crawford is drawn to the investigation surrounding the lone gunman, a hero to the public owing to his fearlessness, a person of interest to the lead investigators on the case, all because of a personal grudge with Crawford. To make matters more complex, Crawford and Holly’s reaction to one another definitely goes beyond a matter of “conflict of interest”, made that much more vexing by Holly’s campaign for renewal of judgeship.

With a multifaceted cast of secondary characters that gives the story an added richness, Ms. Brown throws all your senses haywire, the mystery behind the shooting turning taking more puzzling turns as the clock ticks. I had my theories about where the story was headed. Whether Holly was the target as initially thought to be or not. It’s always a delight when an author juggles multiple characters with fascinating aspects to them that gives a story that ultimate grandeur making it unputdownable. I like a book that makes my brain whirl around, trying to put the pieces together and Friction did that for me. 

Holly and Crawford’s reaction to one another was the coup de grâce for me. All of it was nothing short of hot and all consuming! From the very first time these two get together; and I was ready to throw iPad at the wall thinking Ms. Brown had cheated out on us by just referring to the brazenly hot quickie, I was a goner. Holly the judge whose job makes her see things in black and white and the big bad Texas ranger who always colors in between the black and white and operates with his own set of rules. Both are characters you fall in love with from the very start and that’s how you convince readers of the fact that they belong together, even though they seemingly have nothing in common and have insurmountable odds stacked against them. Ms. Brown is a wizard at delivering just the right touch, where its needed.

Crawford deserves a few lines of his own if you ask me. So effing hot. No two ways about it. Just the kind of hero that Ms. Brown is famous for delivering, in almost all her stories. Tall, grey eyed, commanding, handsome and the list goes on; Ms. Brown creates heroes of the kind that you fantasize over, over & over again. Crawford’s brand of seduction works – works so well that I definitely craved for more! Georgia’s character too deserves a mention. Adorable is the word I would use to describe her and I believe no reader would be left untouched by the charm her character delivers to the story.

Fear not if you think that Friction might have the sort of ending the story Lethal did. Friction delivers a well rounded ending to a tale that had my gut churning from all the nervous anticipation, not to mention the moments of fear upon facing the sheer evil that drove Crawford to the lengths he had to go to. In other words Ms. Brown, splendid, as always.

Definitely recommended. For fans of suspense with that bite of romance, commanding heroes & long lasting love that defies everything!

Final Verdict: With Friction, Sandra reasserts her mastery in a genre that she continues to dominate!

Favorite Quotes

“No problem. Better now?”
She nodded and when she did, her forehead brushed against his chest and then rested there. His hands stilled on her shoulders, then moved to encircle her neck, his fingertips gently kneading the back of it. She set her hands at his waist and leaned into him. A deep inhale caused her whole body to shudder.
“Shh.” He hugged her closer and sent his fingers up into her hair until he was cupping the back of her head in his hand. His other slid down her back and began stroking her spine. On one downward trip, it slid past the small of her back and settled on the curve of her hip. And stayed there.
Suddenly neither of them was breathing.
After what seemed an endless time of absolute stillness, she tilted her head up.
Crawford looked down into her brimming green eyes and thought, Oh fuck.

“I’m as much to blame for that as you.”
“That’s not what you said earlier tonight. You suggested I’d had an ulterior motive.”
“That was wrong of me. I know you didn’t plan it. I know you regret what we did.”
“Hell I do,” he growled. “I only regret what we didn’t.” Keeping his hands on the wall, he pressed into her softness with unmistakable implication, bending his head, and claiming her mouth with his.
For crissake, we didn’t even kiss, he’d said.
He rectified that now, fiercely and possessively, and she let him.

She smiled. “You made rather obvious your aversion to him.”
“What gave me away?”
“You stormed off without a word to anyone.”
He looked angry, then chagrined, then angry again. “He sailed in and acted like he owned you.”
“He hugged me.”
“He held you.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Where he put his hands.”
“He and I were together for a long time. We’re familiar.”
“He’s familiar, reasonable, and refined. But I’ve got a caveman mentality. When he put his hands on you, I wanted to rip out his throat. Mine are the only hands I want touching you.”
“You don’t have a claim.”
His eyes narrowed. “I kinda do.” He started walking toward her, and for each step forward he took, she took one back until she came up against her desk. “That unreasonable, unrefined fuck on your sofa gave me a claim.”

“This plan to ‘cancel it,’” he said, “how’s that working for you?”
“Not very well.”
He placed the heels of his hands on her hip bones and curved his fingers around her bottom. “For me either.”
In a hushed voice, she said, “I wish I still had it to look forward to.”
His eyes searched hers. “Do you remember it the way I do?”
“How do you remember it?”
“To tell you, I’d have to get really graphic.”
“Blushing terms?”
“Gutter terms.” He leaned in closer and whispered, “Wanna hear how tight you were?”
She closed her eyes momentarily. “Crawford.”

In a shockingly short time, she was gathering fistfuls of his shirt, then her hands moved up to his shoulders, where they held on, her fingers digging into the firm muscles. Her back arched and held in a silent plea for one more stroke…one more glide…one more… And she came.
The instant he felt her helpless clenching, he surrendered to his own climax. The intensity of it caused his arms to collapse. He settled heavily on top of her, pulsing inside her, his breath hot and damp against her neck as he groaned, “Christ, christ.”

“Crawford…”
The moaned admonishment was so halfhearted, he continued, kissing his way past her collarbone to her breast. He nuzzled the tip through the damp cloth of her t-shirt.
She exhaled a sharp breath. “I woke up this morning dreaming about it.”
He gently cupped her other breast. “Good dream?”
“Sinfully good.”
“Holly Spencer, bad girl.”
“I think you must be right. The dream was exactly as it happened. I was eager, and you were very…decisive.”
The smile he felt in his heart never quite reached his lips because they were lowering to hers. “I had to be inside you. Just had to be.”

It wasn’t until she groaned his name that he obliged her, but tantalizingly, applying his tongue so softly, so exquisitely that her breaths evolved into moans, and her body drew up tight. Attuned to her, he centered the caresses, concentrated them into ever-shrinking spirals, until the sensations painted onto her coalesced into a burst of pleasure so intense, she couldn’t contain it.
He levered himself up and, with one strong thrust, he was inside her, appeasing her craving to be stretched, filled. He trapped her orgasmic cries inside a kiss and then let her drift down and rest while he sipped at her earlobes, her eyelids, her lips.

He was stingy with the pressure of his thumb on the outside, drawing out the pleasure, holding off until she released a low keening, and then he curled his fingers forward inside her, creating a gentle squeeze between the two pressure points.
She clamped her lower lip between her teeth. Her back arched as she raised her hips and ground against his hand. Into her ear, he poured a litany of love words, sexy words, dirty words. Finally she coasted down, and her lazy eyes fluttered open.
He laid a soft, tender kiss on her lips. “Beautiful.”
“You are.” She reached up and pushed her fingers into his hair. “And much sweeter than you let on.”
“Me, sweet?”
“Hmm. With your daughter. With me.” She outlined the shape of his lips with her fingertip. “You’re not so tough.”
“Say things like that, you’ll ruin my reputation.”

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | BAM | iTunes

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Partners in Crime by Anne Stuart

Format: E-bookpartnersincrime
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Anne Stuart’s Bad Boys, #4
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: Alexander Caldicott
Heroine: Jane Dexter
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: July 5, 2015
Started On: August 17, 2015
Finished On: August 17, 2015

Anne Stuart books are a treasure I keep, to indulge in between books, or whenever I hit a reading stump because there is no other author who scratches the reading itch as well as Anne Stuart does. Book 4 in her Bad Boy series, Partners in Crime is actually quite mellow compared to most of her stories. I wouldn’t label Alexander Caldicott (Sandy) as a bad boy. Nevertheless, in true Anne Stuart style, Sandy gives the sexy to the story in a way you can’t get enough of.

An erroneous caption in a newspaper leaves small town librarian Jane Dexter with the belief that Sandy is one of the shadiest criminals in the country, capable of committing the crime that she wants. When Jane knocks on the door of Sandy’s motel room, he can barely muster enough interest in her, that is before she opens her mouth, demanding him that he commit arson for her. Sandy’s view of Jane the minute he opens the motel door is definitely interesting enough to highlight.

“She was short, and he liked tall women. She had mousy brown hair, and he was partial to blondes. Her eyes were brown, too, and partially obscured by wire-rimmed glasses that gave her a faintly startled look. Her mouth was too generous, and so was her nose, and her clothes were drab, boring, the sort of things worn by a Midwestern librarian. She couldn’t have been much older than thirty, or much younger, either. He stood in the doorway, looking down at her, trying to summon up at least an ounce of polite interest.”

Jane believes that its just her rotten luck that the man who stirs in her a carnal interest of the type she had never felt before turns out to be the man who could actually fulfill her needs when it comes to committing crimes of the kind that could get her locked up for good. However, that doesn’t deter Jane from seeking him out and making a play to entice Sandy into working for her. Jane’s view of Sandy is just as fascinating as Sandy’s view of her, worthy of a mention.

“He was tall, a bit over six feet, and beautifully coordinated. His shoulders were just broad enough, his legs long, his hands, from what she could see from a distance, were well shaped. His hair was blond, probably lightened from hours on the deck of a yacht or racing around a tennis court, and his remaining tan set off features that were just this side of perfection. She hadn’t gotten close enough to see his eyes, but she knew they had to be perfect Aryan blue. His mouth was thin but sexy, his teeth very white, his cheekbones and jaw chiseled. He even had a perfect nose, damn him.”

When Jane turns up on Sandy’s doorstep, for the first time in weeks, hell, for the first time in months, Sandy feels alive, invigorated about the next day and what’s to come. Life had been losing all meaning for him of late, his career not giving him that jolt of satisfaction, his life seemingly a benign existence that he just wakes up to face every morning.

The adventure that Jane and Sandy embark upon is a hilarious one. True to Anne Stuart’s legendary style, the dialogues between Sandy and Jane are laugh out loud worthy at times. No two ways about it. Jane’s snarky attitude entices Sandy to get into her mind, to explore the curves that she hides behind the drab suits, the persona that she hides behind lest anyone take enough notice of her.

Sandy continues to live the lie that Jane believes him to be, and all along, these two fall in love, a love based on a lie that could have devastating consequences if and when Jane were to find out. But then again, Anne Stuart writes characters of the type that do not wallow in what cannot be changed and the ending with tiny bites of surprising aspects to it, gave the story a well rounded edge to it.

Like I said earlier on, I wouldn’t describe Sandy as the dark bad boys of the type that Anne Stuart is well known in the romance genre for. Sandy is sexy, smart, with a core of goodness and integrity to him that shines through as he tries to divert Jane from her bloodthirsty mission by any means possible. That doesn’t mean that Sandy doesn’t bring along the vitality to the story as required. He does that, in spades and I believe he was the right fit for the story under the circumstances. But then again, I keep envisioning a bit of an edgier Sandy, someone who forces Jane out of her shell with the “cruelty” that only heroes of that nature are capable of. Alas, that wasn’t meant to be in Partners in Crime.

Jane is a character who had come from one of those families that aren’t actually trying to be cruel, but ends up being just that towards one of their children. Jane had learnt long ago to expect her dues and move on. Never in a hundred years would she have expected to fall for a seedy criminal, but that is exactly what she thinks she has fallen for, in the process of committing the only crime she had ever wanted to commit in her straight and narrow life.

Sandy brings to Jane’s life, the color that had been missing in it. The sensations that she had never gotten to experience with another. The kind of feelings that she had always shunned because she thought they weren’t for someone like her. To find it with Sandy, to accept it, well, that’s the fun part of the story.

Recommended for fans of Anne Stuart. If you want one of her darker heroes, this won’t do any good. But nevertheless it does provide the sort of storytelling that only Anne Stuart can deliver.

Final Verdict: A bit more mellow than the usual, but just as sexy. Just as good!

Favorite Quotes

The feel of his hand on her breast, even through the lacy bra, shocked and aroused her. His mouth was on hers, wet, hot, seeking, his tongue and lips taking complete, unquestioning control of her and overwhelming any ounce of restraint she might have had. Too many emotions were batting at her, too much adrenaline, too much stimulation. She snaked her arms around his neck, pressed her breast against his hand and kissed him back, wanting nothing more than his mouth on hers, that desperate, erotic claiming that was shaking her to the very marrow of her bones.

“What would you call home?”
“The second floor of a run-down Victorian house in Baraboo, Wisconsin. I used to live in a boxy apartment but it drove me crazy.”
“Somehow I don’t see you as a Victorian.”
“Don’t you? I’ve been called prudish in my time.” She knew her voice sounded raw, but she hoped he wouldn’t notice.
Sandy noticed everything. “Who called you prudish? Your ex-husband?”
“Yes.”
“Does he have anything to do with your Victorian lifestyle?”
Jane sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t be so damned nosy. Why don’t we change the subject?”
“Lovely weather,” he said obediently enough.

He was darkness, powerful, sexual, wiping out the terrors of the night and the anguish of loss and betrayal, he was life and heat and desire, and he was everything she ever needed.

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him, and she was on fire, her hands desperate for the feel of his flesh beneath her, her mouth bold with deep, hurried kisses. He put his mouth on her breasts, and she arched her back like a cat in the intensity of her reaction, he slid his hand between her thighs and she shattered at his first gentle touch.
“Easy,” he whispered. “Easy now.” But she couldn’t, wouldn’t slow down. She was shaking all over, covered with a fine film of sweat, shivering and helpless as her needs raged out of control, unable to even say the words to beg him.

With a moan of fear and anticipation she sank down, guided by his hands on her hips, until he filled her. She let out a muffled cry at the unexpected feel of him, and the hands on her hips held her still, giving her time to accustom herself to his invasion. She bowed her head for a moment, absorbing the impact, and then she opened her eyes to meet his fierce gaze.
“I still don’t trust you,” she whispered, not giving an inch.
He grinned then, and his fingers dug into her hips as he slowly withdrew. “It doesn’t matter.” And he arched up, deep within her.

He reached down and held her hips, striving with unquestionable intent, and his mouth covered hers, his tongue in her mouth, a dual invasion. She was crying, she knew she was, she could feel her face wet with tears, but all she could feel was the man within her body, carrying her places she hadn’t even dreamed existed.
Suddenly his body tensed, and he lifted his head, his eyes glittering down into hers with a fierce intensity. She could feel the life, the love pumping into her, and then everything shattered around her, dissolving into a maelstrom of sensation and dark, dangerous release.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Forgotten by Maggie Shayne

Format: E-bookforgotten
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Paranormal Romantic Suspense
Series: Shayne’s Supernaturals, #1
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: Ashville Allan Coye
Heroine: Josephine Belinda Bradshaw
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: April 21, 2012
Started On: August 6, 2015
Finished On: August 8, 2015

I love romances that involve two people who think they are ill suited for one another. I know that that’s not just me. There’s so much fun that happens before they do realize that their ultimate partner lies in one another. Add to that a twist paranormal, as in the heroine being a psychic, well that’s just the icing on the cake for me.

It’s being a long time since I read and re-read Linda Howard’s Dream Man. Ever since, I’ve always looked out for any other stories that would bring forth as much emotion as that particular tale did for me. Forgotten by Maggie Shayne filled that need somewhat, and for that and more, I enjoyed the story that unfolded, so very much.

Ashville Allan Coye (Ash), is lying on a hospital bed, pretending that an accident he’d met with had resulted in him landing with a bout of amnesia, when Josephine Belinda Bradshaw (Joey) walks into his hospital room and announces that she’s his somewhat newly wedded wife.

Ash had been pursuing the story behind The Syracuse Slasher when the accident happened and when Joey walks in and drops the obviously false news of his marital status, Ash is hard pressed to find out what it is exactly that this woman who drives a Harley and is as far removed from every condition he has jotted down for the future missus to meet is up to.

Joey’s psychic abilities are more of a pain to her than something she rejoices in. For one thing, it gets her labeled as a crackpot or worse. For another, her ability at times is not the most cooperative, especially when she wants to help people who could be in mortal danger. With Ash, Joey is determined to stick by his side and hopefully save him from becoming another victim of The Syracuse Slasher together with a different agenda of her own that involves her own family.

Ash and Joey’s connection to one another stems from the sizzling attraction that flares between them from the get go. Ash who deals with issues stemming from growing up with a drunken whore of a mother, his inability to trust a woman to do right by him makes him question his attraction towards Joey. Joey has her own issues to deal with, her lack of trust when it comes to the opposite sex, given the philandering ways of her father. Or so she believes it to be.

Amidst increasing danger to both their selves, Ash and Joey find in each other, a partner they’d be willing to spend their life with, if only the ramifications of coming clean with the whole charade on both sides would give them a fighting chance at what they have between them. Added to the mix, is a killer whose mad enough to go on a rampage, just to feed the delusion that keeps the hunger for the kills at bay.

Maggie Shayne does a splendid job of bringing to life Ash & Joey, two characters whom you fall in love with & root for from the onset. Ash is the journalist, who sees everything in provable facts and figures. And Joey is the woman who shakes up everything he believes in, even what he had perceived as would be the best fit for him when it comes to a life partner.

With a couple of twists thrown in for good measure, Maggie Shayne delivers a story worth sinking into. Loved it.

Final Verdict: Romance, heat & murder. What more can this twisted mind of mine ask for?

Favorite Quotes

To change the subject, she waved a hand to indicate the room they were in, a sparse area with cement floors and white walls littered with exercise equipment “This is my torture chamber, as you can see. There’s a bathroom through here, and that other door leads to the basement”
His gaze lingered on the weight bench and narrowed. “You pump iron?”
“You disapprove?”
“It’s unfeminine.”
“The results aren’t.”
He looked her over thoroughly, his gaze traveling a deliberately slow path over her. For the first time in her life, Joey felt uncomfortable in skintight pants and a skimpy bustier. “I’ll let you know,” he quipped.”

His tongue swept into her mouth like a loving caress, touching her in a probing search as if he were an explorer, the first to enter there. She felt as if he were tasting her, and liking what he found as his tongue dipped and danced around her mouth. She began to shake.
It shocked her. She tried to analyze it. She wasn’t shivering with cold, or with fear. Her arms curled tighter around his neck. Her body pressed harder against his, and her fingers threaded into his hair. This was good. Whatever this was, it was incredibly good. When he withdrew his tongue, she thrust her own into his mouth. But hers was hungrier, more demanding, and she felt him shudder in response.

He stood utterly still for a moment fighting the demon that drove him to turn her around, to look at her, to touch her. It was a hard battle, harder because it was one he didn’t want to win. But he stiffened his resolve and reached past her for the T-shirt. As she gripped the bed for support, he pulled it over her head, holding it in place while she inserted one arm, then the other. And it really was accidental that the backs of his fingers brushed over her breasts as he pulled the shirt down over her body.
He felt her shudder, though. He lifted her hair out of the shirt’s collar, and then he held it aside and lowered his lips to the back of her neck. He didn’t think about doing it, wasn’t even aware he was going to until his lips brushed over her nape. He heard the breath escape from her in a rush, and he felt something akin to pain squeeze his chest.

“Ah, God, Joey.” It was a whisper, hoarse, as if he were in some kind of pain. His hand drifted downward, over her chin, her throat. His fingertips skimmed her breast, then his palm closed over it.
She closed her eyes and let her head fall back in reaction to his touch. His hand slid over the curve of her waist, around to the small of her back, and he drew her to him. Free hand driving into her hair, he brought her face level again, and then he kissed her.

His head angled. His lips slid over her face, and he nibbled at her jaw, then moved lower, the damp warmth of his mouth bathing her neck and the hollow below her ear. Her heart raced, drowning out the sounds of traffic below. Her senses filled with him, with wanting him, needing him.
He bent her backward and took one breast into his mouth. Her hands on his shoulders tightened, and she felt the shudder that ran through him. He suckled her, making her gasp for breaths that wouldn’t seem to come.

He pushed her, and he pulled her. Played with her as if she were a puppet on a string, driving her to the edge of madness only to let her hang there, begging for fulfillment in the language of her body. She writhed beneath him, longing for it, mindless in her need.
Then he gave her what she craved, quickening his pace, deepening his invasion into her body, driving into her as she felt his need grow to equal her own.
And then she exploded.

She blinked at him, her eyes wide and wonder filled. “I’m so afraid of this,” she whispered.
“Of wanting me?” He slipped his hands beneath her shirt and ran his palms over the warm, smooth curve of her back.
“Of… of needing you.”
He closed his eyes at the impact of her words. “I know.”
“It’s overpowering. It’s getting worse all the time, and I—”
“And I can’t do anything to stop it,” he finished for her. “I’m not sure I want to stop it.”

He picked her up, hands on the backs of her parted thighs, carefully avoiding the bandaged wound. He lowered her over his arousal. Her tightness was like a hand, gripping, squeezing. He held her hips and moved her up and down over him. She clung to him, feeding on his mouth as if she were starved for it. Her breasts, their nipples pebble hard, brushed over his chest, driving him insane.

He kissed her jaw, her throat Her head tipped back as he bit and suckled her neck. He pushed her back still farther, and she arched to give him access to her breasts. Those dark peaks strained toward him, silently begging for attention. He laved them with his tongue, going at one after the other like a man possessed. Her body moved faster, harder, taking him more deeply into her with each thrust. He bit her nipples, tugged at them, sucked them mercilessly, until she was trembling and biting her lip to keep quiet.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | Smashwords | iTunes

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: If You Only Knew by Kristan Higgins

Format: E-bookifyouonlyknew
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: MIRA
Hero: Leo Killian
Heroine: Jenny Tate
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: August 25, 2015
Started On: August 10, 2015
Finished On: August 14, 2015

If You Only Knew by Kristan Higgins comes after a seemingly long wait since her last novel. I’ve been scouring through Netgalley, and even tweeted to Ms. Higgins go find out when her next book was going to be released. And as luck would have it, I found this up on Netgalley after finding out its release date and since then have been on tenterhooks, all giddy of course, because that’s what happens when you have a book that you’d love to really sink your teeth into, waiting for you.

If You Only Knew, like most stories by Kristan Higgins, is told in the first person. The difference perhaps is that it tells the story of two people, Jenny and Rachel, two sisters, their love lives or the lack of, their struggles which reaches out to you and the emotions that practically whip your insides to a frenzy. Kristan takes your emotions or rather your soul on a roller coaster ride, makes it reach heights that you never thought possible with the way this story plays with your emotions.

Wedding dress designer Jenny Tate is ready to leave the big city life behind and move back to her hometown, and perhaps in the process learn to let go of her ex-husband whom she has never truly managed to divorce from her heart. The “jovial” relations she has with him and his newly wedded wife, though told with the sort of humor that makes it easy to laugh through the heartache, is more than relatable.

Jenny’s sister Rachel struggling for perfection with the handful that is her triplets, finds her seemingly picture perfect marriage in a rut when she opens a sext message that had been meant for her husband. Unable to face the reality of reconciling with the truth, Rachel goes out of her way to make things work with her husband, showing to us all that even though we promise ourselves that we would never be that woman who hangs around with the guy who hurts us beyond repair, walking away from a marriage or a relationship, especially when kids are involved, is one of the hardest decisions you would ever have to make.

Jenny has this quirky factor to her character that makes her go into daydream mode every time she eyes someone remotely potentially partner worthy. That’s the exact same thing that happens to her when she first encounters her landlord Leo Killian, his pain filled eyes and don’t-get-too-close-to-me attitude acting like a siren’s call that beckons her heart. Jenny’s journey towards happily ever after is not an easy one, but worth all the pain in the end.

Kristan spins a tale that makes you cry god honest tears as you read through the struggles and the turns the lives of Jenny and Rachel takes along the way. The second guessing, the doubts that creeps into you along the way, the self recrimination during the darkest moments of your life, they are all dealt with in this masterpiece with the sort of flair that only an author like Kristan can pull off.

Leo’s character is equally haunting, the secrets he hides in his soul coming to light towards the very end of the novel. Teaching beautiful music to a handful of youngsters, Leo would rather keep to himself, live by himself, than allow someone into his life, to open up his heart for the kind of heartbreak he never wants to subject himself to, ever again. Just like the music that lives inside the musical prodigy that is one of his students, If You Only Knew hits every note perfectly; sometimes it gets messy, ugly and ties you up in knots. But the whole of it together just takes your breathe away. 

The high you feel from reading a good novel is difficult to come down from. It also makes picking your next read that much more difficult because a story like this comes along, if at all, more rarely than you would think. I have just this left to say.

Dear Kristan, If You Only Knew was well worth the wait. It broke my heart & you managed to put it back together again. Might never be as it was before. But it’s all good. Because you left me with a smile in my heart & the beautiful glow of love in my soul.

Definitely recommended!

Final Verdict: So much heart packed into 400 plus pages; it wrings everything out of you!

Favorite Quotes

“You eye-fucking me?” he asks.
“What? No! I’m just… I’m not, okay? I just need my key, but the stupid super isn’t here.”
“The stupid super is right in front of you.”
I close my eyes, sigh and then smile. “Hi. I’m Jenny. The new tenant.”
“Leo. Keep your eyes to yourself, for the record.”

Then he slides his hand around to the back of my head and pulls me to him. One of my hands goes to his chest, and I can feel the solid thumping of his heart. “Recreation only,” he murmurs, his voice scraping a part low in my stomach. “Got it?”
“Got it,” I whisper back.
His eyes crinkle with a small smile, and then he’s kissing me, and his mouth is… God, his mouth is good at what it’s doing—a slow, gentle, thorough kiss that makes my insides leap and spark.

And when he left, he pushed me against the front door and gave me a long, hot, lingering kiss. His hands slid down to my thighs, and he picked me up against him and I wrapped my legs around him, my back pressed against the door, and if it wasn’t the horniest moment of my life, I don’t know what was. Then he let me slide down against him, his hands going to my hair.
“Make sure your rent is on time,” he murmured against my mouth, and then he smiled and was gone, and I staggered back to the couch and collapsed there, grinning like an idiot.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | eBookMall | ARe | HQ | iTunes

outstandingread

by mvbookreviewer

Requested ARC Review: Wanted by Dee Tenorio

Format: E-bookwanted
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Deadly Secrets, #2
Publisher: Entangled
Hero: Rick Trelane
Heroine: Whitney Jean Peterson
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: July 21, 2015
Started On: July 24, 2015
Finished On: July 26, 2015

Wanted by Dee Tenorio is the 2nd book in the Deadly Secrets series. Story begins with the murder of one Brody Roberts, a murder that signals to the former Marine Rick Trelane that this is just the beginning of something deeper and darker than what it seems to be on the surface. Brody’s murder is of significance to Rick because of Brody’s “relationship” with Whitney Peterson, the woman whose existence remains the reason for Rick’s sanity, his best friend & the only person alive who could stir him into giving a damn about opening himself up once again.

Whitney holds secrets in her heart. Emotionally dark secrets that she has no intention of sharing with Rick and burdening him with. As it is, Rick holds the weight of the world on his shoulders. The shadows in his eyes, the darkness that he holds close to his heart is one that dissipates rarely, showing glimpses of the man whom Whitney has given her heart to, a long time back.

Reluctance is the name of the game when it comes to Rick. Reluctance to face what Whitney means to him, reluctance to expose himself to feeling anything that could devastate his world all over again. Reluctance to let Whitney in and face head on the explosive, world shattering variety of desire that connects them.

With the body count beginning to rise, Whitney gets promoted from being just a person of interest to a suspect that the police needs to bring in for questioning. And the only one that stands between Whitney and wrongful prosecution is Rick himself, willing to forgo every value that he has promised to uphold in his quest to root out the corruption that had darkened the doorways of the community.

Wanted is a story that contains elements which combined together definitely makes for a page turner. Rick himself is deliciousness redefined. Seeing Rick through Whitney’s eyes was a huge turn-on, the man being just a walking, brooding version of sex on a stick. Whitney is the heroine who is tough enough to nudge Rick towards the road of recovery. Haunted by a past that was earth shattering when it came to light, Whitney’s character just makes you want to bring out the pompoms and cheer her on. I was never more so proud of Whitney than the moment she decided to pursue Rick, to take matters into her own hands so to speak, even with all the memories of a past that continues unleash its claws on her, more recently of late.

Though the villain was not that hard to figure out, the twists that Dee provided towards the culmination of the story proved to be enticing enough to keep me riveted. Only thing more I could have asked for would have to be more scenes of passion between Rick and Whitney. Ones that would have “reaffirmed” the sexiness that defines all that is Rick Trelane.

Loved the thread of humor interwoven with the fabric of the story. One of the reasons that I love Dee’s voice so much is that she has the right touch of sarcastic and witty combined that gives the reader that much needed breather from the rest of the intense stuff happening in the story.

Wanted is a story that deals with difficult subjects with a high degree of sensitivity. The concept of therapy, moving forward, finding happiness; all this gives that much needed hope to anyone who might be going through a tough time in their lives. After all, that’s what romance novels are partly about. They fuel our dreams & hopes of a love that would never abate, will be reciprocated & withstand the test & ravages of time

Recommended.

Final Verdict: Dee Tenorio delivers a dark tale, as promised. Recommended!

Favorite Quotes

He had to go. He fucking had to. He had to let her go.
But she chose that moment to turn. To open her eyes. To sigh in relief that he was still there.
The choice was out of his hands.
He moved, drawn toward her like fire to air. He pushed through the kitchen door, colliding against her body and taking her mouth with a fury he couldn’t have held in if God himself commanded it. The taste of her flooded him, sweetness and fire, while her body melted into him. It wasn’t enough. He needed her closer. Needed her wrapped around him.

He heard her cry of surprise, used it to deepen the kiss until the carnality of it almost had him ripping at the fabric of her dress. She did nothing to stop him, either. Instead, she kissed him back, her desperate sounds urging him on. His fingers tightened on her hip, pushing her backward onto the table. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down with her, letting him take, demanding more, until he’d nearly climbed on the table with her.

He gasped against her lips, his entire body tightening like a bowstring being yanked.
She lifted herself higher, pulling back only enough to whisper words she hoped he couldn’t ignore. “I need you, Rick. I need you so much…”
He held out for a beat, two, but then he groaned, turning them so her back was against the wall. They hit it with a slam, his swearing the oddest thing to find sexy. Like the sound of a dam breaking, she thought distantly, the one sided kiss suddenly erupting into something that stole her breath completely.

Soon, all she could hear were her own sighs, his murmured encouragement and the roughening pace of their breathing. Her head fell back, arms crossed behind his head so he didn’t stop sucking that spot on her neck. His thumb sought out her clit again and thought completely disappeared. Passion turned to an inferno. She moved desperately, wanting more, wanting everything. All he was. All he’d ever wanted to be. All she’d never been able to give. That she’d never received. It all blended into a maelstrom until the pressure of it snapped, shocking a cry from them both, leaving them shuddering in each other’s arms.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Montana Actually by Fiona Lowe

Format: E-bookmontanaactually.png
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Medicine River, #1
Publisher: Berkley
Hero: Josh Stanton
Heroine: Katrina McCade
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: January 6, 2015
Started On: May 19, 2015
Finished On: May 20, 2015

Dr. Josh Stanton’s move to Medicine River County, to a town called Bear Paw comes from the need to quickly pay off his student loans. The move from Chicago hadn’t come easy for Josh. The relationship that he has just gotten out of, after being burnt from the brunt of it all doesn’t make it any easier to bear. Josh comes from a family of prestigious surgeons. The fact that he had chosen to specialize in ER medicine and lands in a town which requires he divide his time between the clinic and the ER isn’t an irony lost on him.

Katrina McCade returns to her hometown after eight years of living it up outside of it. What brings her home back to her family is too shameful for her to reveal. The fact that she had been duped by the man she had been in love with, ready to share her life with is something that is proving quite difficult for Katrina to get over from. The last thing she needs is for the entirely too irresistible Dr. Josh to be her new tenant, a man who makes her stir crazy from desire one minute and makes a side of her she is not too comfortable with to rear up the next.

While the attraction between Katrina and Josh is inevitable from the start, what makes the story juicier is that neither of them wants to be in a relationship and thinks of their non-relationship as a sort of “people who can barely stand each other – benefits” sort of agreement. What neither of them bets on is finding things that they both like, respect and eventually come to love about each other. But the scars left behind from previous relationships prove to be not that easy to get rid of. However, it does deliver the sort of deliciousness that proved Montana Actually to be a book that was hard to put down.

Fiona Lowe makes it so easy to fall in love with every single aspect of this book. From the reluctant and very sexy Dr. Josh to Katrina to the whole bunch of secondary characters that brings the whole story alive; there is nothing I would change in any of it. The entire setting, how Josh who would like nothing better than for the nightmare he has been saddled with to be over, finds himself slowly settling into the pace of life at Bear Paw and finding it in his heart to accept and be accepted into a tightly knit community was a wondrous thing to watch unfold.

Every single character that appeared in the story was endearing and unique in their own way. The secondary romance included in the story was just the icing on the cake if you ask me. Fiona’s insight and sensitivity in handling a character such as Beau with his speech difficulties reminded me of Ellen O’Connell’s story Without Words. There is an emotional impact when characters such as Beau are delivered in the right manner that just makes a story that much more worth savoring.

The sparks between Josh and Katrina that emerge from the very beginning was a sight to behold and enjoy as well. Josh with his reluctant fascination towards a woman who makes him want to grit his teeth at times and then makes every primal instinct within him come alive at the very next second shakes him up unlike anything else. The pain that Josh holds in his heart from the life and relationship that he’d left behind is very real one, one that nearly broke my heart. But the delicious fun that Josh indulges in with Katrina, all in the name of just sex alone of course, was too fun to watch to dwell on the pain and heartache. And before I knew it, I was in love with Dr. Josh myself.Oh well, who am I kidding. I was in love with him the minute he stepped into the shower – with all his clothes on!

Katrina herself has got a past that rivals Josh’s. The fact that she had come back to her hometown after so long speaks volumes. Her heart had broken into pieces when her last relationship had ended with disillusionment of the kind she never thought possible hurting her soul. Katrina swears off men, especially doctors and the last thing she needs is to have lascivious thoughts about the town’s new physician. But that’s exactly what she ends up doing and more and it was sheer joy to see these two make their way towards their happily ever after.

While the story might seem all light, fluff and laughter, it was hardly that. There is enough emotion in it to practically sucker punch you over and over again. It takes a rare kind of book for me to shed actual tears and Montana Actually turned out to be one of those unique books with the ability to make me bawl my eyes out. Perhaps it was because I was in a pensive mood myself or because Fiona Lowe is that good; I’m going to go with the latter, I had to stop reading at a certain point and take a break because the emotional impact of it all was too overwhelming to continue. I don’t mean to scare any of you into not picking this up; let me reassure you that you would want to continue because there is definitely love and laughter at the end and of course the delicious sneak peak into the second book in the series to contend with!

It is tough to pull off a book with multiple characters and even plot in a secondary romance and make ALL of it work to give such a deliciously beautiful book. I for one am kicking myself for having waited this long to read this. Oh well. Life happens and my reading ambitions definitely have a way veering off track during those times. Last but not the least dear Ms. Lowe, keep em’ coming. For there is nothing more that reaffirms my belief that romance books are what keeps the world turning than a good book that engages all my emotions.

Final Verdict: Fiona Lowe effortlessly charms her way into your heart with Montana Actually. Recommended!

Favorite Quotes

Josh strode quickly through the door, filling the diner with his height, his breadth and his restless energy.
Light gray eyes—eyes that no longer looked like a red trail map—met hers. A flare of surprise burned in them along with something that made her shiver in a very good way. As fast as it had glowed brightly, it faded away leav- ing her wondering. In its place was the more familiar and slightly detached gaze.
She swallowed hard, determined to sound cool, calm and collected. “Doctor Stanton.”
“Nurse McCade.” He eyed the coffeepot in her hand suspiciously. “I hope you’re more in control of hot coffee than paint.”

One minute there was a safe and healthy distance between them, and then the old sofa cushions caved inward, rolling her sideways. Her shoulders bumped into his arm and then she fell across him. Suddenly, she found herself sprawled half on his lap.
“Sorry,” she spluttered as her body squealed in delight. “This sofa is a disaster.” She tried to move but the sucking cushions pinned her against him—a solid wall of muscle radiating heat. Heat that wove through her, taunting her with delicious quivers that danced and swirled before rushing straight to the apex of her thighs.

He groaned and, tantalizingly slowly, traced the outline of her top lip with the tip of his finger. Like a match to paper, she went up in flames as heat and joyful anticipation rocked her. She opened her mouth under his touch, her tongue licking the tip of his finger before her lips sucked it inside her mouth.
The black pupils of his eyes bled into the silvery gray. “Dear God, you’re killing me.” As he withdrew his finger, his other hand curved around the back of her neck and he kissed her.

The kiss was deliciously restrained and divinely decadent. Honor and lust—a kiss of the ages. A kiss any woman would envy.
A kiss that was driving her wild. She wanted to shake the control and unleash the passion.
Tingling from head to toe and desperate to really taste him, she opened her mouth under his, flicked out her tongue and invited him in. He didn’t hesitate. He branded her with his heat and his need for her, both giving and taking, and her knees buckled. She grabbed onto his shirt and he staggered backward, bringing her with him.

He waited for her to say or do something to tell him exactly what she wanted, but she stayed silent, so he lowered his mouth to hers.
He tasted salt, beer and restraint. He lightly nipped her lower lip.
She moaned, rose on her toes and opened her mouth under his, taking him in.
Thank you.

“If I didn’t think it would give you a swelled head, I’d tell you that the reality of you naked, even fuzzily out of focus, far outshines the fantasy.”
He grinned at her with dimples dancing. “I aim to please.”
“So do I.” She closed her hand around him, loving the hot and silken feel of him in her palm.
“Jesus, Katrina,” he moaned as his hands reached for her. “Too much of that and I won’t be pleasing you for another twenty minutes.”
“Where’s your self-control?” she teased.
“I lost it the moment I met you.”

She wasn’t sure if she crawled up him or if he lifted her or if it was a bit of both, but suddenly her arms and her legs were wrapped tightly around him and her back was pressed up against the tiles.
All of her quivered with unmet need and her body screamed for him. “Fill me up.”
Snowstorm gray eyes gazed into hers, filled with match- ing need. “Now?”
“Yes, please, right now.”
He pushed up. She pressed down and beseeching muscles gripped him tight, so tight it was as if they were scared he might change his mind.

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

fantasticread

by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Watch Me by Cynthia Eden

Format: E-bookwatchme
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Dark Obsession, #1
Publisher: Hocus Pocus Publishing
Hero: Chance Valentine
Heroine: Gwendolyn Hawthorne
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: December 9, 2014
Started On: May 18, 2015
Finished On: May 18, 2015

Watch Me by Cynthia Eden is the debut book in her Dark Obsession series. Cynthia has a way of creating heroes who do the crazy, obsessive and of course uber possessive thing that is one of unique aspect to her romances. With the entire series titled as Dark Obsession, well, that is telling in itself.

Chance Valentine is part owner of the VJS Protection, a private security firm founded by him and two of his friends. While Chance has no family of his own to speak of, his one obsession has from the start being his ex-boss’s daughter, Gwendolyn Hawthorne, from whom he had walked away once before.

When Chance is tasked with investigating a new threat to Gwen’s life, all bets are off this time when Chance encounters Gwen, the inborn need  to claim her as his and never let go, one that he is afraid would get the best of him. No one hurts Gwen had always been his mantra, and it becomes more so when their relationship shoots up to its next obvious level, bringing Chance to his knees and shattering all that legendary control of his.

Meanwhile, the danger to Gwen’s life escalates, making everyone working the case work against a deadline not of their choosing but the horrific stalker who would do anything to kill off the target.

The Dark Obsession series has resounding similarities to that of the Mine series by Cynthia Eden. Crazy stalker who would do anything to kill & make the heroine’s life practically miserable and an uber alpha hero who has the hots for the woman of his dreams who refuses to give an inch. Even with all the similarities, Cynthia still manages to give a story that kept the pages turning, perhaps owing to the unique twist in its suspense plot which I liked.

To find myself enamored by the guy who readers are led to believe was the villain was a novelty in itself. Though some might guess the actual perp who was carrying out the attacks, I don’t think anyone would have been able to discern the why of it. And that’s where the ingenuity of the plot lay for me.

Both Chance and Gwen were likable characters, both completely fitting the mold that’s Cynthia’s trademark variety of the hero and heroine. Chance with his almost obsessive need for Gwen, who is sweet, beautiful and definitely not a pushover, the kind of heroine that most readers would definitely find endearing.

There were different veins of interesting tidbits regarding secondary characters that signals that some good stories might come out before the series is through. I’m certainly looking forward to Ethan’s story; his character is one that called out to me on a whole different level. I do hope Ms. Eden writes his story sooner than later.

Final Verdict: No one does darkly obsessed heroes like Cynthia Eden does!

Favorite Quotes

He kissed her. Maybe it was because of the adrenaline. Maybe it was because of the desire that he was so sick of holding in check around her. Maybe the why didn’t matter.
Chance let go of his control. His mouth crashed onto hers. Onto those full, make-me-beg lips. His tongue thrust into her mouth and he tasted her the way he’d been dying to for so long.
The lust he felt for her filled him. His cock stretched, aching to sink into her. And he kept kissing her, right there on the ground, with the snow falling around them. He kissed her hard. He kissed her deep. He kissed her the way he wanted to fuck her.
And he knew that they’d just crossed a line, a point of no return.

Her hips arched against him. The long, hard length of his cock pressed against her. She wanted him in her. Wanted them both to be racing toward the edge of oblivion as the pleasure took over.
He grabbed the hem of her shirt. Pushed it up. Threw it someplace. Then his fingers were sliding under the edge of her bra. She needed that bra gone so that she could feel him and—
The bra was gone. He bent his head and his mouth closed over her breast. Her eyes squeezed closed and a moan tore from her when he started to suck her nipple. She was pretty sure that her panties were getting drenched.
And they’d just gotten started.

“Keep looking at me.”
She bit her lip because she was about to go crazy, but she managed to keep looking into his eyes. That finger of his slid deeper and his thumb stroked her clit, right there, the button of her desire.
“I want to watch you come. I want to see your eyes go wild for me. I want to see the pleasure.”
A second finger pushed into her. She was standing on her tip-toes now. Her nails were digging deeply into his arms as she held on tight.
“And that will just be the start,” Chance promised her. “Because before I’m done…”

“Open your mouth for me…”
Helpless, she did. He kissed her. Thrust his tongue into her mouth even as his fingers drove deep into her once more.
She kissed him frantically, kissed him—
He pulled back.
Her eyes were on him.
His fingers slid out, then pushed into her.
She came, gasping hard with the pleasure and still gazing into his eyes as the wave of release washed over her. Her sex clenched around him, her body shuddered and he smiled.
“So fucking beautiful…”
He made her feel that way.

“Don’t be careful with me. You’re the one I want. Show me that you want me, too.” He’d said that he had trouble telling her how he felt. Fine. Gwen wanted Chance to show her instead.
When he kissed her again, his lips were parted. Better…Gwen’s teeth closed lightly over his bottom lip and she bit, tugging.
He growled and his hold tightened on her.
Much better.
“No more lies,” she ordered softly. “Not from you. Not from me. Give me everything you have…” Her tongue licked across his lower lip. “And I’ll give you all that I have, too.” No holding back.
“Everything,” he promised her.
Then he kissed her. Deep. Hard. Wild.
Perfect.

“I always knew…” Gwen whispered. “It would be like this…with us.”
Chance kissed her again. “So did I.” He pulled her against him. Curled his body around hers and made sure the covers were tucked around Gwen.
She smiled as her eyes began to close. She was safe. She was happy. She was—
“It’s what I was afraid of…”
Gwen almost didn’t hear his whisper.
Almost.
“That I’d have you,” he said softly. “And never be able to let you go.”

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

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Cold Fear by Toni Anderson

Format: E-bookcoldfear
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: Cold Justice, #4
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Lincoln Frazer
Heroine: Isadora Campbell
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: May 26, 2015
Started On: May 12, 2015
Finished On: May 16, 2015

Toni Anderson seems to have hit the mark yet again with her latest installment in the Cold Justice series that I’ve been hooked on ever since it came out. Toni has a writing style that seems effortless in the ease with which she draws you in, and creates characters that tends to leave their mark on you. The fourth book in the series served all that and more and I cannot say enough good things about it!

A homicide practically in the middle of nowhere grabs the attention of ASAC Lincoln Frazer, the head of BAU at FBI, for reasons that sends chills of foreboding down his spine, hoping against hope that he be proved wrong. While a girl killed in some seemingly random murder might not be Frazer’s usual cup of tea, it is the news that something more sinister might be at play that propels him to drop everything and head out to the scene of crime, to contain, control and find a killer who most probably has been killing for more than half his life.

Dr. Isadora Campbell (Izzy) serves as an ER doctor and is the guardian of her seventeen year old sister Kit who seems to test and try her patience at the turn of every corner. When it is Kit’s best friend that turns up dead, and the site of the murder is an all too familiar place for her for comfort, Izzy finds herself battling more than a guilty conscience when the sexy and all too commanding special agent Frazer walks into her life.

While Frazer has his work cut out for him to find a killer who seems to escalate way too fast for anybody’s comfort, it is his inability to compartmentalize as effortlessly as he has done in previous cases that makes Frazer flustered more than anything else. Thinking himself above emotions such as love and the need for things such as long term relationships, Frazer fools himself into believing that he can just walk away from Izzy when all’s said and done. And in the meantime, the clock seems to tick, ever more so closer towards the inevitable, and the secret that Izzy guards close to her heart might be the key to unraveling the entire case as well as the one thing that could break whatever fragile connection that has forged into life between Izzy and Frazer.

If you, as myself, have been a follower of the series from its beginning, you’d completely understand the fascination one might develop for Frazer. The man screams issues buried deep inside from that rigid control of his to the complete command and utter authority he holds over everyone else and if there’s anything that fascinates me in romances more than a hero who is anal about keeping people at a distance, I would be kidding myself. Frazer’s dark soul is one that reaches out to you, wraps its wispy tentacles deep around your heart and pulls with a force that does you in. Frazer certainly lived up to his image, but the icy wall around his heart which had been cracking under emotional pressure from previous books crumbles when he falls for Izzy, hard and fast. All sorts of deliciousness follows wherever Frazer goes in the story. And I enjoyed and soaked up every little bit of it.

While Toni does a remarkable job of creating heroes that you definitely drool over and then some, she also has this ability to carve out heroines that gets to you. Characterization is one of the most important aspects of writing any sort of novel, more so in a romance, and Toni has done a fabulous job out of creating Izzy, not to mention the great cast of secondary characters that gave the story the vitality it seemed to exude at the turn of each page. I definitely loved Izzy as much as I fell for Frazer. She is the sort of independent and intelligent soul who truly matches a person like Frazer in every single way and I loved her all the more for it!

Cold Fear is a novel that seeps with the charms and hazards of small town life. It is also one of the creepiest novels I’ve read by Toni Anderson. Creepy because I could practically feel the chills run up and down my spine, my heart jumped at the sound of every single creak and sway of the trees outside and I ‘blame’ Toni for all that because she practically transported me to the scenes of the story, each of them something I seemed to have absolutely lived through by the time I was done.

Toni keeps the reader guessing until towards the very end when everything just unravels at a pace where you can’t do anything else but hold your breathe and send out fervent prayers that those that matter from everyone involved would make it out alive and that they’d live to see another day. The kind of writing that gets deep into the psych of killers of the nature described in the book is nothing short of fascinating, and I loved every minute of the creepy utterly stalked vibes I got out of reading this jewel of a novel. The only thing I wished for? The fulfillment of the against the wall sex fantasy that I wished had materialized, especially when the man in question is Frazer, someone who prizes his control over everything else. Here’s hoping Killion’s story is up next!

Recommended!

Final Verdict: Soul chillingly good! Ms. Anderson nails it. Every. Single. Time!

Favorite Quotes

She walked into the cottage with every nerve in her body feeling like it was raw and exposed. Holding his gaze, she closed the door softly behind her. “I could make you something to eat—”
“I don’t want anything to eat, Dr. Campbell. Unless it’s you.”
Oh, God. She ached. Between her legs. Under her ribcage. In all the small places around her body that hadn’t felt a man’s touch in so long she couldn’t even remember. Time to make a decision and either be honest about this or get the hell out.
“Then I’m thinking this is probably a booty call, ASAC Frazer.” Her eyes met his. “But before we get naked, I do need to know your first name.”

She didn’t push him away.
Instead she opened her mouth and kissed him back, pulling him toward her by his lapels. It was all the permission he needed and he turned them around and walked her backward down the corridor. Her fingers began to undo his shirt buttons and the desire he’d been fighting since he’d first seen her standing on that windswept beach, oblivious to the effect she had on men, burst free.

“You feel amazing,” she said.
Christ, how could she talk? He couldn’t form a single coherent word let alone an entire sentence. She rode him slow and then she rode him fast and he held onto his control by a whisper as her fingers bit into his chest and her face turned toward the ceiling and inner muscles contracted around him, driving him to the very edge.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her heels into his ass as she started to climax again. He held onto her hips as she writhed and twisted, smooth muscles and soft skin feeling like silk against his fingers.
His own release snapped at the base of his spine as her inner muscles milked him until finally his hips were bucking into her and he flew off that cliff, spinning over the edge into blinding light that made pleasure screech along every neuron.
Holy crap.

He wasn’t bulky, which was why he looked so good in a suit. But he was muscled and lean, golden hair sprinkled sparingly over his chest. He shucked his pants and hung them over the back of the chair—ever the federal agent. His legs were solid and strong, an impressive erection tenting the front of his boxers in a way that made her insides clench. The image of him, pinning her to the wall and fucking her blind flashed through her brain.
“What were you thinking about?” he asked carefully.
She smiled. “Sex. Against the wall.”
“Put it on the wish list.”
“Wish list?”
“Your wish list. Today we’re working on my wish list.”

“Please,” she begged. “I want you inside me.”
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“The narcotics just kicked in. You’re hurting me by not being inside me.”
“So now you’re high? No.”
“Not high. Happy.” She gripped his shoulders. “Trust me, the only pain I’m feeling is unsatisfied lust for your exceptional body.”
He planted his hands either side of her head. “Unsatisfied?” he queried.
“Unsatisfied-ish,” she qualified before pulling him down for a kiss, and tasting herself on his lips.
He pulled back, and one side of his mouth quirked. “Exceptional, huh?”
She traced his features with a fingertip. “Magnificent.”

With no warning he slid inside her, curling his body protectively over her back, but giving her none of his weight.
It felt amazing. She felt wrapped up in him, filled by him, mesmerized by his strong body, his clean fresh scent, his healing heat.
Then he held her hips again, moving slowly, gently, but going deep, touching her just there and that feeling of wonder spiraled tighter and tighter inside her, contracting down until all that mattered was the friction of his flesh dragging against hers. His hand slipped down between her folds to touch her and she was spinning again, out of control, extraterrestrial, outer space, flying and cartwheeling all the way to Mars. He joined her, shuddered and cried out.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Consumed by Fire by Anne Stuart

Format: E-bookconsumedbyfire
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: Fire, #1
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Hero: James Alexander Bishop
Heroine: Evangeline Morrissey
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: May 26, 2015
Started On: May 10, 2015
Finished On: May 11, 2015

Ever since I received an ARC of this number on Netgalley, I have been biding my time, savoring the delicious fuzzies that has been coursing through me at the thought of delving into an Anne Stuart novel, and that too a romantic suspense of the variety of the ICE series that first got me hooked onto her writing. If you have never read the wonderful books in the ICE series, worry not. The debut book of the Fire series works wonderfully well as a standalone though I would recommend reading the ICE series because ALL of them were FIVE STAR reads for me!

Consumed by Fire stars a member of the infamous Committee, a group of elite mercenaries of sorts funded by the richest of the rich, the aim to keep democracies functioning across the globe. Leaving the technicalities of all that aside, Bishop is a hero that perfectly fits the mold of heroes that Anne Stuart is famous for delivering, especially in her ICE series. Cold, aloof, and beautiful for the lack of a better word. Yes, the heroes Anne Stuart creates are nothing short of a work of art.

When Evangeline Morrissey encounters Bishop and his partner during one of their missions, Evangeline has no idea what she is getting herself into when she agrees to have dinner with a man as enigmatic as they come. Every brain cell that has made Evangeline the academic she is flees South, leaving her in the throes of passion of the kind she has never experienced before. But the next thing she knows, the man who takes her as his wife and gives her three days and nights of soul searing passion leaves her, taking her diamond earrings along with him.

Fast forward to five years later and Bishop once again enters her life, in the name of keeping her safe from his enemies that has found out that when it comes to him, his only vulnerability lies in the woman with whom he got married to all those years ago. Thus begins the ride of a lifetime, a story that sweeps you away on the sort of journey that only Anne Stuart and her mastery is capable of delivering. There is not a moment of dullness to be had, not a thing I would change in this absolute perfection of a novel that Anne Stuart has penned. Yet again, I bow down to the absolute wizardry behind every word she writes, the darkness in her novels exactly what this wretched soul of mine craves. There is none like Anne Stuart and I fear that there would never ever be!

I’ve missed the ICE novels. Knowing this was coming out within this year was a godsend. And getting my hands on it before it’s release was one of the best ‘gifts’ I could’ve ever received this year. Anne Stuart stormed her way into my reading life through her ICE series. I’ve neither forgotten nor left behind the memories of how each and every single book in the series made me feel. So to have a book that brought back with it the exact same feeling of exhilaration was more than enough reward for having waited patiently for a novel like this to come out. And thus once again dear Anne Stuart, you have proven to your fans that when it comes to writing books of the kind, none compares to you!

James Alexander Bishop; the man has a way with tangling your insides up with need, the need to see him fall hard and fall bad, the need to claim him as your own. You don’t get heroes who are demanding in bed and mushy and sweet out of it when it comes to Anne Stuart and especially the ICE series. What you get are men who tests the very limits of your acceptance & patience & yet somehow you can’t help but fall irrevocably in lust and love with every single one of them. James Bishop steals your heart from the minute his devastating brand of charm seduces the heart of Evangeline’s and nothing that he did thereafter could change the fact, which is saying a lot.

I loved the subtle differences in the heroine this story had to offer. In ICE novels, it’s almost always the case for the hero to be the one in icy control, forever able to deny his feelings for the woman who changes the very core of existence. The women though strong, tend to not be dangerous in their own right. With Evangeline I felt that she was more than equally matched for Bishop in more subtle ways. Like the way she could hold her own when it comes to him even with the sheer rage that courses through her veins coming across him five years after he’d abandoned her. The fact that she could stimulate his mind, push HIS comfort zone and make him face the reality of his messed up feelings when it comes to her was telling in itself. Pairing an academic and a professional assassin who strikes off sparks against each other that rivals even the most fiery of lightening storms; therein lies the sheer ingenuity that is Anne Stuart.

The perfect balance of romance, action & scorching hot sex, heated enough to melt a few of your brain cells and then some is what Consumed by Fire delivers. An apt title if you ask me, considering the fact that when Bishop and Evangeline come together, there’s nothing short of a major avalanche of feelings, angst and sexual tension happening that seems crazy enough to pull and claw at you until they give in to the visceral need deep inside of them. Loved Bishop and Evangeline & practically everything about the novel. And dear Anne Stuart, thank you for an ending that gave me the sort of closure I needed after the sort of wild roller coaster ride that was this novel. This one lands straight up in my favorites shelf. Can’t wait for Ryder’s story to come out!

Final Verdict: Consumes your very being & puts your senses afire. Anne Stuart’s mastery remains unrivaled!

Favorite Quotes

She reached up and tried to unfasten the buttons to his shirt, but the fabric was wet and stubborn, and she needed to feel his skin against her. She yanked at in frustration, and he laughed softly against her neck. “Patience, Angel,” he whispered, covering her frantic hands with his. “I’ll take care of it.”
He released her, only for a moment, as he simply ripped the shirt open and yanked it off. She knew what kind of strength was needed to tear that wet linen, and she shivered.

His head moved down, his mouth latching onto her nipple, sucking, and she felt a spasm of reaction between her legs. She liked this. Men had always been so gentle with her breasts, so tender, and she’d felt nothing.
James Bishop was rough, demanding, and she could no more resist those demands than she could fly. He moved to her other breast, leaving the first distended and needy, and when she felt his teeth on her a spasm rocked her body, shocking her.

“Shhhh,” he quieted her. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. No rules, just what feels good. And what I want now is you. I’m going to fuck you, fuck you fast and hard, and you’re going to take it, aren’t you?” His voice was low, intense, and he was doing something with his hand. It took her a moment to realize he was sheathing himself with a condom; she had no idea where it had come from and she didn’t care. “You’re going to let me fuck you blind, and when you come you’re going to put your mouth on me and scream into my skin until you can’t scream any more. And then I’m going to take you into the tiny bed in your room and we’ll do it all over again.”

“Not yet,” he growled in her ear. “Don’t come yet.” “I don’t … know if I … can help it,” she gasped. “You can.” He punctuated his words with a hard thrust that pushed her up against the wet, slippery wall. “You can do exactly what I tell you to do. You’re going to let me fuck you, and you’re going to fuck me back, and when I tell you to come then you will.”

“Put your mouth on my shoulder,” he whispered in a tight voice. She obeyed immediately, licking the water off his skin. “Bite,” he said, slamming her back against the tile, going rigid in her arms, and her pent up release erupted, a scream started in the back of her throat, and mindless, blind, she sank her teeth into his shoulder, harder as each wave hit her, an endless trail of climaxes, each one stronger than the last, until she was sobbing, she could taste blood, and he was still thrusting inside her, slowing almost imperceptibly.

He’d pushed himself up on his elbows, and was looking down at her in the inky darkness; and for a moment they were suspended in time, staring at each other. “Fuck it,” he said finally, sliding one hand behind her neck to pull her mouth up to his.
His kiss was air to a drowning man, oxygen to an asthmatic. His open mouth closed over hers and his breath filled her lungs and her veins, and she was alive again, blood pumping through her body as he kissed her, his tongue sliding against hers with such perfect intimacy that she wanted to weep.

He’d been a carefully banked fire, but with her hands on his skin he seemed to explode, and his patience vanished. He reached down and tore her cutoffs open, the strength in his hands shocking her as the zipper and denim gave way, yanked them down her legs, complete with her underwear, and threw them into the darkness. Her uneasiness returned—this was Bishop, this was a stranger. This was her husband, this was a thief and a liar. This was the man she loved, this was the man she despised. This man was a lover.
This man was a killer.

She heard the rip of his zipper, the quick shove of clothes, and for one brief moment the head of his cock against her, large and heavy, and it had been so long…
He thrust into her, hard, and she cried out. not in pain, though it hurt, but with a pleasure so powerful it shook her. He was so big, filling her, and it seemed as if she’d been empty forever, needing him, only him, and no one could take his place.

He pulled out of her, and she screamed in protest, hitting him. He was panting in the darkness, and his hands were rough as he flipped her over, yanking her hips up. “This way,” he growled, and pushed in again, deeper than ever, and she wanted more. The pain wasn’t important, the feel of him deep, deep inside her was what mattered, and she let go, taking his fierce thrusts with such raw satisfaction that she might die from it. This was life, this was what she needed, only this, forever, in the darkness.

“Let go, Angel.” His voice was a rasp in her ear, and she heard the name with a twisted kind of joy. “Let go of it all.”
She shook her head, beyond words, fighting it, fighting him, fighting to survive. He was stripping everything from her, she would die…
“Let go, Angel,” he whispered again, and it sounded like love. “I’ll catch you.”

“Please…” she gasped, as he rubbed her clitoris, her entire body vibrating with frustrated need. “It’s too much.” He let go of her breast with a sucking pop, and unbelievably the sensation brought another sharp stab of desire. “nothing’s too much,” he growled, pulling back. Before she realized what he was doing he’d flipped her over, pulled her onto her knees at the edge of the bed, and he pushed into her from the back, past her wet, swollen tissues to the very heart of her, so deep, so deep, and she buried her face in the sheets that smelled of their sex, clinging to them, panting.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N

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