Category / Endearing Heroine

by mvbookreviewer

Requested ARC Review: Cold Light of Day by Toni Anderson

Format: E-bookcoldlightofday
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Cold Justice, #3
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Matthias Lazlo
Heroine: Scarlett Wilson Stone
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: November 16, 2014
Started On: November 11, 2014
Finished On: November 18, 2014

Toni Anderson is an author you should be reading if you are a fan of well plotted suspense. Toni is an author whose self-published books in the genre has provided me with some of the best reads in suspense that I have read lately and Cold Light of Day is a book that testifies to all that I have just stated above.

Scarlett Wilson Stone joins her best friend Angelina LeMay to attend the annual Christmas party that is hosted by the Russian Ambassador to the United States for one reason alone. She wants the chance to do something to clear her father of the charges of treason for which he has been spending the past 14 years of his life in prison. Scarlett & her mother are the only ones who had believed in her father’s innocence. When Scarlett’s little mission goes horribly wrong, the reaction is swift with life threatening consequences that Scarlett never foresaw.

Former SEAL and FBI Special Agent Matthias Lazlo cannot believe that he had been tricked by a pair of brown eyes that he had felt had seen right through to his soul. A moment that had lasted long enough to make him think of thoughts better left unsaid, Matt is relentless in his attempt to hunt down Scarlett and bring her in, more in a need to protect her than anything else.

Though Matt doesn’t believe Scarlett’s proclamation of her father’s innocence, as the attacks on their lives begin to mount, Matt has to believe in the possibility that someone wants the truth to be buried six feet under, never to surface ever again. What doesn’t help matters is his fierce attraction to Scarlett whose intelligence, devotion and vulnerability strikes him in his very heart making him susceptible to a whole lot more than just being taken down by the enemy.

Toni Anderson explores a mean plot in Cold Light of Day. It kept me on tenterhooks that had the nail biting edge to it with the stakes rising as the story progressed. Toni writes suspense of the variety that makes the heart pound. Add to it the espionage factor explored in this novel and you’ve got yourself the likes of books from authors like Robert Ludlum. The plus point for voracious romance readers like myself is that Toni writes as good a romance as the suspense plot in her novels.

Matt is a hero readers would absolutely adore. I could have sat with the book in my hands and read about just him alone and it would most probably have been enough. He is downright sexy, effortlessly so and there is nothing more deadly on the female senses than that if you ask me. Scarlett proved to be a great heroine. Toni creates heroines who are intelligent and capable, yet with enough sense in them to know when to advance and when to retreat. That in my opinion is an essential factor to writing heroines that grabs the heart.

Final Verdict: Cold Light of Day reads like a puzzle you’d never figure out. Recommended!

Favorite Quotes

Scarlett Stone…
“Why do I recognize that name?” asked Matt.
Alex Parker appeared in the doorway. “Because she’s the daughter of Richard Stone.”
“Richard Stone the spy?” Frazer ground out.
Holy motherfucker. That was the sound of shit hitting the fan.

We might only have one night…we might only have an hour.
The thought made him push a little bit deeper, a little bit harder. She tilted her pelvis and wrapped her legs around his hips and, dear God, he couldn’t go easy, and he couldn’t go gentle. He thrust into her, only grateful she seemed to be enjoying his lack of technique and finesse.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo

greatread

by mvbookreviewer

Review: My Fair Concubine by Jeannie Lin

Format: E-bookmyfairconcubine
Read with: Kindle & iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Tang Dynasty, #3
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: Chang Fei Long
Heroine: Yan Ling
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: May 22, 2012
Started On: November 7, 2014
Finished On: November 11, 2014

Jeannie Lin is one of those authors that writes romances that speaks to your heart. Her writing is flawlessly beautiful and China as the setting provides for that exoticism that is unbeatable. My Fair Concubine is the third book in the Tang Dynasty series and explores the story of Chang Fei Long, a nobleman and Yan Ling, a baby abandoned at a tea house where she had grown up, knowing no life except one of servitude.

Fei Long wants to save his family’s honor and is at a loss as to how to go about it when the idea strikes to make use of Yan Ling to do so. Fei Long has just three months to turn Yan Ling into princess material, to teach her the etiquettes and way of life that would be required from her when she is given to the people of Khitan as princess bride to forge political ties with China through an arranged marriage. What Fei Long doesn’t expect is for him to want to break every single rule he has set for their brief partnership and claim Yan Ling for himself. But as life would have it, many a hurdle needs to be crossed before that particular dream would be realized.

I have no idea why I skipped on reading My Fair Concubine and jumped straight to The Sword Dancer, the 4th book in the series. Either way, My Fair Concubine turned out to be a beautifully spun story with enough angst, finely wrought sexual tension and the intricacies of Chinese politics and life in the Tang Dynasty that I just adored.

I loved both Fei Long and Yan Ling. Fei Long is man who practically has honor stamped right into his DNA. Yan Ling is the woman who grew up as a servant, whose inner fire, courage, wit and wisdom makes her the right fit for a man like Fei Long. The control that Fei Long exerts on his self and emotions was such a turn on if you ask me. I love a hero who is reserved. There is such a wealth of passion hidden inside characters of that sort and I just loved what Jeannie had to offer with Fei Long. When it comes to Fei Long and Yan Ling, there’s so much to be said for the near miss caresses, the fervent longing in each glance and this intricate dance was done superbly well which reached its ultimate climax the moment during which all that control shattered under the strength of Fei Long’s hidden passion for the woman he loves. And oh my stars; what a magnificent moment that was!

I adored the colorful secondary characters like Dao and Li Bae Shen that gave this story the wholesome edge to it that it deserved. The historical tidbits and the exotic feel to the entire setting itself was one I continued to lap up like someone who was starved for just that. If history were ever to be written with such flare, I don’t think I’d ever have a problem with buying a ton of books on the subject and holing myself up somewhere for days.

This review wouldn’t do justice to the story without mentioning the scenes of passion towards the end of the story; oh boy! I was feeling quite peeved about all the heightened sexual tension in the novel with no way of breaking the promises that held Fei Long and Yan Ling from acting on their desire for one another. And when Jeannie Lin delivered on all that, sigh, I swear I just near about swooned and rightfully so if you ask me. All those hours of calligraphy lessons? Totally worth it. And that alone is reason enough to buy a copy and indulge in my opinion. Well done Ms. Lin, well done.

Final Verdict: The prose, the angst and the delivery alone attests to Lin’s mastery. Recommended!

Favorite Quotes

He placed the brush back into her hand. She knew she was gripping it too hard again as she dipped it into the ink stone, but it was the only way to keep her hand from shaking. Before she could place the tip to the paper, Fei Long moved behind her. She closed her eyes as his hand rested against her shoulder to straighten her back. His other arm circled temporarily around her to position the brush and she flooded with fever. Her toes curled with the ache of it when he moved away.

She stood in a panic, keeping herself turned.
‘I have to go.’
‘Yan Ling.’
His voice was louder this time. Closer.
She tried to slip past. Wouldn’t look even when his hands closed around her shoulders.
In the next moment, she caught a glimpse of Fei Long’s face, of his dark and tortured eyes. A muscle tensed along his jaw before he lowered his head.
Her breath rushed from her at the first touch of his mouth. His hand lifted to slide over the back of her neck while his kiss soothed over lips still sensitive from the rough scouring she’d given them. Yan Ling trembled, confused. A lost sound escaped from her.

Suddenly, his hands tightened over her hips. He held her so fiercely it was nearly painful. She could feel the heat of his skin and the taut coil of muscle and sinew through his robe. A shudder ran through him.
He pulled away roughly then, holding her at arm’s length when he couldn’t get enough of her only moments earlier. His chest heaved as he stared at her as if he didn’t know what had just happened. But she knew, in every part of her, to the very tips of her fingers and toes.
‘Forgive me,’ he breathed.
It was the first time he’d apologised since she’d met him. For the one thing she’d wanted more than anything else for him to do.

‘I would give it all up,’ he rasped.
She must have heard wrong. Her throat closed so tight she had to fight for the next breath.
‘I would give it all up for you,’ Fei Long said again, stronger this time. She staggered back a step as he came forwards. ‘Yan Ling.’
He closed the distance between them. His hands came around her waist and his eyes darkened with an unfettered hunger she had never seen. Their bodies brushed as he pulled her close.

It wasn’t long before he was backing her deeper into the cover of the trees. Not long before his hands secured themselves against the small of her back and she was being guided down. Soon she was lying with her shoulders flush against the cool grass. The coarse blades tickled against the back of her neck and she could see fragments of blue sky between the branches above.
Fei Long leaned over her. His face, so familiar now, filled her vision. Masculine and beautiful in its harshness. He captured her mouth again, one hand cradled at the back of her neck to lift her to him. His other hand was braced against the ground beside her shoulder, securing her beneath the weight and pressure of his body. As if she’d ever want to escape.

She exhaled in a small gasp, her back arching willingly. Her hips lifted until they brushed against his. In response, he pressed his full weight upon her. She could feel him. All of him.
His mouth sought her throat where he tasted her first with his tongue, then the sharp edge of his teeth. She shuddered as he devoured her. There was nothing reserved about Fei Long out here. He’d left his careful detachment in the confines of the study. This passion was for her, and her alone.

Her head fell back in surrender, but Fei Long was there to catch her. His other arm circled her now with his hand splayed against her back to keep her upright. She closed her eyes, shaking her head in denial, because the sheer torture of this was senseless. He commanded her with nothing but this single, unending caress and it became everything. Cruelly, inexplicably, everything.
She cried out as her body tightened. Fei Long crushed his mouth to her and she sobbed against his lips. Her inner muscles clenched and unclenched as she shook inside and out.

Then he pulled away and her hand slipped free. There was no trace of tenderness in him as he stood. His expression was heated steel as he removed his trousers. He untied his hair as well and for a moment stood naked over her.
She took him in, all of him. Her mouth was painfully dry and even swallowing didn’t banish the knot in her throat. This was what she had wanted to know— the sight of Fei Long when there were no more boundaries between them. She took the vision deep into herself. It would always be there, no matter what the morning brought.

She pressed her lips against his throat and tasted the salt of his skin. The thrust of his body took on an exhilarating urgency, a riotous intensity that she could feel through the height and breadth of her body. There was no time to think. Only feel.
He was taking everything, just as he promised. Just as she wanted.
She wrapped her legs around his hips and held on.

“Do you know how many times I agonised over this part of your neck or this one ear?’ His mouth brushed over her neck before he took her earlobe between his lips, sucking gently. A shiver ran down her spine, making her breath catch and her toes curl restlessly. ‘You would gather your hair with your hands and sweep it over your shoulder to keep it out of the way before you’d begin to write. And I’d watch you, barely able to breathe.”

“Yes,’ he shuddered as he beseeched her. There were no words for what he wanted, but she wanted it too. ‘Yan,’ he pleaded.
Yan Ling pushed back against him as hard as she could as every muscle within her tightened. His muscled body formed a brace for her in her passion. She cried out, the sound strained within her throat. A vindicating and final rush of pleasure arched through her. An exquisite pain beyond thought.

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

awesomeread

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Without Words by Ellen O’Connell

Format: E-bookwithoutwords
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Breton J. Sterling
Heroine: Hassie Ahearne Petty
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: September 30, 2014
Started On: November 6, 2014
Finished On: November 7, 2014

The very first note that I made as soon as I started reading Without Words by Ellen O’Connell was, “Reading an Ellen O’Connell after so long. I’m so excited.” That excitement pretty much started as soon as I stumbled upon Ellen’s newest release and held all throughout, since then up till I turned the very last page. Ellen O’Connell is a master unto herself. A force to be reckoned with when it comes to self-published and otherwise authors out there. Her writing style rivals that of one my favorite authors of Western themed romances, i.e. Maggie Osborne. Her heroes never fall short of making you fall head over heels in love with them and her heroines are just the same. And Without Words is definitely not an exception to the said rule.

Breton J. Sterling (Bret) is a bounty hunter, who after confronting his latest convict finds himself saddled with Hassie Ahearne Petty; it was either take her or leave her to fend off for herself which would have ultimately meant that she would starve to death or worse. Hassie has no choice but to do as the icy-eyed bounty hunter orders her to. A childhood accident had rendered Hassie without the ability to speak loudly and coherently enough for people to understand. That had pretty much defined Hassie’s life since then and she had been resigned to living the life that had been hers until Bret storms into her life and her heart, making her a changed woman forever.

Without Words is not just a story. It is a journey of two people who at first seems to have nothing in common, a man and a woman joined together by circumstances. Bret is man who is paying his self imposed dues to his family, and Hassie has no family to speak of. While Bret has no need for a woman, he can’t help but be protective of Hassie, a woman who defies every single hardship that had befallen her and still manages to see the beauty the world has to offer. And before long, Bret finds himself yearning for more of his violet-eyed Hassie, something he had never thought would happen in his lifetime.

Hassie’s awakening towards Bret as a man is one that progresses slowly. She has no experience to put her trust in when it comes to anything good happening between a woman and a man, but Bret makes her want to trust and put her belief in the honor that is practically stamped all over the man himself. The trust that unfurls in Hassie towards Bret grows in leaps and bounds until of course Bret becomes the only man she has ever loved, even though his past warns her of the consequences that this love would wreak on her heart.

Without Words is a story in which practically everything worked and meshed well together to give the sort of read that is so hard to come by in the modern world of romance today. There is a reason why I still yearn for the “classics” that started me on my journey of reading romances. And Without Words brought that back with an effortless ease that made me want to cry because there aren’t enough authors who write today like Ellen O’Connell does.

Like I mentioned earlier in my review, Ellen creates some of very the best heroes and heroines I’ve encountered in romance novels. There’s a voice to Ellen’s work that speaks to you on a level beyond just words strung together that give meaning. These words, they speak to your soul. It invokes emotions in you that you don’t think possible and yet if you are a romance reader like myself, yearn for with every fiber for your being. I cried during moments of sweet angst and smiled so much at times that my face hurt. There’s nothing more beautiful to a reader than a well spun story that they can lose themselves in and Ellen has provided just that with every full length novel that she has published to date.

Bret; I swear I just trembled from want, every single time that icy control of his that shattered under the strength of his passions, be it anger against the wrongs in this world or his desire for the woman who consumes him. Bret is a hero who is uber masculine, one who is unabashedly manly and yet has a core of strength and honor in him that makes a woman fall like a ton of bricks. And fall hard, I did. There is no other way to say this; Bret, you own my heart.

With Hassie, Ellen has once again created her trademark variety of heroine. The fact that Hassie can’t speak was a novelty in itself, her outlook towards life, that sheer joy deep inside of her that reaches out from the pages and practically engulfs you in its hold is a powerful one. Without Words is an apt title for a book that speaks to the reader on so many levels and that too with a heroine who is unable to use her voice to communicate. I loved Hassie for everything she stood for. Her love for Bret hadn’t happened overnight, neither had she thrown herself at him just because she was dependent on her. Their love had been a slow and a fiery one, one that consumes you and leaves you with that wholesome glow of having been loved and loved well.

Ellen explores with her stories the hardship that life was during those times. The imminent threat of starvation, the price women had to pay to make a livelihood for themselves and the harsh reality of women without a man by their side, the rough and at times unforgiving land that could make or break a person; all that is vividly brought to life in every single novel that I have read from her. I’m so glad that I happened across the release of this one and Ellen, you’ve made my whole month by this beautiful story, which if you are a lover of romance novels definitely ought not miss!

The problem with finding a book that moves you enough to render you unable to do anything afterwards is the fact that you never want the story to end, you want the pages to go on, the magic to continue, the feelings that courses through you to never cease. And once you turn that last page, you feel like mourning, you feel like no other book would ever have that impact on you ever again and mostly it turns out to be true, because it is so rare these days to find new books that has everything going for them. So I treasure this diamond in the rough that shines vividly through and hope that someday soon I find yet again the magic that I discovered while reading Without Words, that undeniable magic that makes being a romance reader worthwhile.

Final Verdict: Without Words is a beautifully crafted masterpiece that touched every single piece of my soul. Definitely recommended!

Favorite Quotes

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve done this too often to count, and I’ll be back before you know it, but you need to be ready to move out fast then.”
Her hand rested on his cheek, fingers soft by his temple, palm warm even through the growth of several days’ beard. Her body pressed close. She hugged him and was gone.
The cool wind blew in vain as he rode toward the town. The memory of her touch warmed him every step of the way.

She anticipated the kiss, expected hard pressure on her mouth and an invading tongue. Instead his lips brushed hers as lightly as butterfly wings before settling more firmly. Her arms tightened. So did his.
Her body molded to his, chest to chest, belly to belly. Her quickened breath matched the rhythm of his. His mouth caressed hers, played against hers. His teeth tugged gently on her bottom lip, and she opened for him, not invaded at all but joined. His tongue teased until she tried to imitate. From the sound he made deep in his throat, she succeeded.

The mattress moved under his weight. His lips feathered across hers. Her breath caught. A small moan escaped, and she tried to stifle it.
“Don’t,” he whispered against her lips, “Don’t keep anything inside. If you feel like talking that Greek at me, do it.”
She laughed, felt him inhale her laughter.
“You have the most beautiful laugh. It runs up and down my spine, shivers over my skin, and makes me want to grab hold of you like a mad man. You have no idea….” His mouth closed over hers again, his tongue tracing her upper lip, lower, along the seam.

The fever rose again, and soft sounds of desire escaped with each breath. She pulled at his shoulders again to bring him over her, and this time he gave what she wanted, settled between her thighs, slid into her hot, wet core, stretching her past what she had known. Her muscles spasmed, and he groaned.
She did it again, deliberately this time.
“Hassie.” Her plain name sounded like it belonged to someone else, someone beautiful and desirable and loved.

His heat enveloped her or maybe only merged with hers until the room lost its chill. Sweat prickled along her spine, and the tiny knot of reservation inside her dissolved in the flood of pleasure. She moaned softly, her teeth in her lower lip. Mine, she thought. Her hands fisted in his hair. Mine.

“Is that how you think of it?” she signed.
“I was being poetic, but yes, it got harder every year. I’m glad to be done with it. My only regret is I’ll never again see the look of wonder on your face when you see something like the Missouri River for the first time.”
“There will be other things to wonder at.”
“Without mountains and rivers what will there be?”
She fought the temptation to tell him of the greatest thing they would wonder over.
“There will be Christmas trees.”

Purchase Links: Amazon

outstandingread

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Chemistry With Calvin by Katie Allen

Format: E-bookchemistrywithcalvin
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Human Design, #3
Publisher: Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Hero: Calvin Scott
Heroine: Lauren Mayes
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: October 8, 2014
Started On: November 5, 2014
Finished On: November 5, 2014

Katie Allen is an author that I discovered a little bit earlier on to when I started my review blog. Katie is a superb writer of erotic romances. One of these days I just might give her books like Breaking the Silence another go and do a review. That was actually my very first book by Katie which I loved to pieces. Of late however, Katie has been focusing more on writing erotica of the m-m variety which I am not a fan of. Chemistry with Calvin that came out recently seemed a good place to once again revisit a favorite author of mine and that’s how I ended up reading this in one sitting.

Chemistry with Calvin is the third book in the Human Design series, the first book of which is Experimenting with Ed which still sits neatly in my TBR shelf in my iBooks. That being said, Chemistry with Calvin can be perfectly read as a standalone since I wasn’t any worse off having started with book #3 in the series.

Calvin Scott works as the mailman at the firm where Lauren Mayes works. Calvin being a man who keeps to himself with a huge beard covering most of his face and a don’t-come-near-me vibe that keeps most people away, Lauren cannot explain why she has such a fascination for the man. There is just something about Calvin that makes Lauren seek him out, something about him that calls to her inner woman that has a hard time keeping herself down.

When danger comes calling and Lauren rapidly falls into the mess, Calvin is left with no choice but to take Lauren with him to a safe place. With government agents who would stop at nothing chasing them across the country, Lauren finds out that with Calvin she has found just a tad bit more than she bargained for.

The attraction between Lauren and Calvin is one that sizzles right off the charts. Calvin is one who cannot remember a past that goes beyond his capture by the government agency that had experimented on him. And Calvin would do practically anything to not fall into their clutches once again. Though Calvin finds Lauren to be an utter distraction, he can’t help but be drawn towards the woman who cannot stop talking, who gets under his skin in more ways than one and brings out an animalistic side of him that Lauren definitely knows how to provoke.

The dialogs between Calvin and Lauren were at times laughter inducing. Calvin and his reluctance to get involved doesn’t prevent him from getting busy with Lauren in many other ways. And I totally found Calvin’s bossy kisses a huge turn on.

Recommended for fans of the series. Though in my opinion this is not the best of Katie Allen, it still has certain elements to it that testifies to the great writer she is.

Final Verdict: Chemical explosions of the scorching variety guaranteed!

Favorite Quotes

Air left her lungs in a rush as she clung to his shoulders, digging her short nails into his skin. It had to hurt but it only seemed to incite him further. He raised and lowered her, bringing them together with quick, almost violent thrusts. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything except hang on and enjoy the ride. The rougher he fucked her, the more she enjoyed it, which would probably bother her if she weren’t flying toward an orgasm that promised to be more mind-blowing than any she’d ever had before.

“Babies, needles, psycho scientists!” Her hands flew in frantic circles. “We got the jumbo-sized box—how could we forget to use a condom?”
“Shit.” Cal sat up next to her. “You were touching me.”
She bounced out of bed and felt the evidence of their condom-less deed trickle down her thigh. “So it was my fault.”
“Fuck no.” He paused. “But your hands were touching me. Everywhere.”
“And you grabbed me and just popped it in, all bare and naked and possibly baby-making.” She started pacing.
“Fine. It was my fault.” He tracked her with narrow, hungry eyes. “It was my fault I fucked you bare. My fault you felt so incredible, so hot and wet and tight around my cock, I had to come in you. My fault I wanted to mark you, make you smell like me, make you mine.”

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

favorableread

by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Imaginary Lines by Allison Parr

Format: E-bookimaginarylines
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: New Adult
Series: New York Leopards, #3
Publisher: Carina Press
Hero: Abraham Krasner
Heroine: Tamar Rosenfeld
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: April 14, 2014
Started On: October 31, 2014
Finished On: November 2, 2014

I fell in love with Abraham Kramer when I was twelve years old.

Tamar Rosenfeld had fallen in love with Abraham Krasner when she’d been just twelve years old. Growing up with him had only intensified the feelings and at the age of 19, Tamar decides to put her heart on the line and confess of her undying love to the man himself. The rejection of her love, the answer that Abraham only sees her as a little sister gives Tamar the jolt that she needs to cut ties and heal her broken heart and get over her injured pride. Until four years later, she moves to New York as a sports reporter.

New York is where Abraham lives, his career as a New York Leopards linebacker ensuring that. When Tamar comes to New York, Abraham is determined that he get to spend as much time as possible with her as their schedules would allow. And the more time Tamar spends with Abraham, the more she goes onto realize that she had been kidding where her heart had been concerned, where she had convinced herself that she was so over Abraham. And Abraham certainly doesn’t make it easy for Tamar to move on; he pursues her with a relentlessness that Tamar finds she can only resist so much before giving in.

Imaginary Lines is a story told in first person in the heroine’s point of view. Being the third book in the New York Leopards series and having never read the two books published before this one, I would say that the fact I wasn’t left with a question mark in my head where the secondary characters were concerned is a pretty good signal that this book can definitely be read as a standalone.

Imaginary Lines proved to be a novel experience for me in my journey as a reader of romance. Tamar and Abraham are both Jewish coming from big Jewish families. I’ve never read about a Jewish couple, about their customs and food of choice for celebrations and such and thus it was an interesting exploratory journey of sorts for me. Many a time I used the search the web function on my iBooks to find out what a delicacy mentioned in the story looked like, which holiday were they talking about etc. I even managed to read a bit on Judaism on the religion section of BBC, something I’ve been meaning to do for quite sometime. So all in all, Imaginary Lines turned out to be quite the informative journey for me.

I loved the subtle hint of humor interwoven into the story. There is a sense of humor to Tamar that is hard to resist and if you can read a couple of chapters with a straight face, well you are a person in more control of your emotions than I would ever be. Tamar and Abraham, both turned out to be equally likable characters who are strong, so much in love with each other and yet true to who they are individually. I loved Tamar for having the guts to stand up for what she believed in, facing all that crap because she dared rattle around what pretty much everyone else had thought an area of football that she should have just left alone. Abraham turned out to be the sweetest guy! I sort of expected him to get pissed off and storm off, but he proved me 100% wrong by sticking with his woman and standing by her side even through the most difficult of time. That in essence is what true love is all about.

Being a story told in first person, which is something I don’t like for obvious reasons, yet somehow I get roped into reading books featuring just that, it wasn’t easy to garner Abraham’s emotions, something I felt the lack of. I wanted to see Abraham’s reactions, read deep into his mind, see his thoughts and the way he viewed the shared past of his and Tamar’s childhood. I think the novel would have provided a more wholesome experience to Abraham’s character if the author had integrated his point of view into the story as well. That being said, Tamar seemed to see into who Abraham truly is, seeing beyond the facade that Abraham puts up with the rest of the world giving Abraham a true sense of homecoming after four long years of separation.

Though the story seemed to lose focus on Abraham and Tamar during the first half of the story, it definitely picked up the rest of the way and gave an enjoyable read that is recommended for fans of sports romances. Abraham and Tamar would definitely end up being a favorite.

Final Verdict: Childhood friends to lovers; not your usual run of the mill story!

Favorite Quotes

He groaned and leaned back. The lamplights silhouetted him perfectly, light and dark. Dreams made real. When he looked back, he cupped my face in his hands. “I’ve been resisting doing this for years.”
I just stared. I was melting. I was hot clay under the summer’s sun.
He let out a soft sound of desire. The air between us simmered with need, and my whole body yearned toward him. I could barely think, couldn’t blink. Small breaths slipped in and out of me like the hopeful flutterings of a hummingbird and then his lips were on mine.

The air shimmered between us. With each breath I took, I could feel my body pushing against his, my breasts full and aching as they strained against the fabric of my shirt. My hands smoothed down over his biceps, smooth as carved marble under my fingers, living marble. His hands ran down over my body, coming to rest in the small of my back, holding me tight against him. I ached for those hands to keep moving, to keep roaming. My breath hitched but our locked gazes never faltered.
He pulled me down and kissed me.

When the door snapped closed I turned, heart in my eyes, hot and wild as the man striding across the room toward me. He pushed me up against the wall, and we were kissing, tangled in each other, his tongue parting my lips with exquisite skill until I was moaning under his ministrations. There was nothing anymore, just him and me, the sensation of tongues and lips and sliding hands. His hand pushed my dress up around my hip and curved down around my ass. It slid up to the inside of my leg, and toyed with the thin cloth.

And then he lost control, wild now, plunging and plummeting, so quickly that we were both ablaze. There was no control anymore, no anything, just the fierce dance of our bodies, the beat, the rhythm, the everything, and I wanted more and more and I was blind except for him, it had always been him, and it would always be him—
He let out a great shout, a great noise that ripped from his throat. And then I felt the crystalline desire break me apart, a shattering of tension, bringing a great, crashing wave of pleasure and relief that lost the world to me. There was no world. Only the forever of the night and the brightness of the moon, carrying me on a dizzying rush through the stars. I was awash in desire and joy and happiness, aware of only one thing.
Only Abraham.

He withdrew and then slid back in, slow at first, and then increasing in speed and force. It drove me mad with desire, and I rocked against him, helpless and wanton, meeting each thrust with my own, until I was wild with want and empty of thought. We were hot and fast, light lightning, a storm after a dry spell. We were the roaring ocean, the brightness of the moon, the inexplorable tide that tied them together. I let out a cry and clung to him, and he to me, and we were lost together.
Lost and found.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Cover Your Eyes by Mary Burton

Format: E-bookcoveryoureyes
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Zebra Books
Hero: Deke Morgan
Heroine: Rachel Wainwright
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: November 4, 2014
Started On: October 30, 2014
Finished On: October 30, 2014

It has been a while since I held a book in my hands that I didn’t want to put down, even to eat. It has been quite sometime since a book hasn’t forced me to keep turning the pages because the review was due and I was falling behind, again! Mary Burton’s Cover Your Eyes is my first book by hers and most definitely, it is not going to be my last. She had me hooked right from the prologue and what followed after up till the very end did not let me down.

Detective Deke Morgan is called to the scene a brutal murder in the middle of the night. Nothing extraordinary there except for the fact that Deke realizes that they have a crazy on their hands if the sheer viciousness of the kill is anything to judge the murder by. Rachel Wainwright is ready to stir the hornet’s nest that is the infamous Annie Rivers Dawson’s murder. In the name of Justice for Jeb Jones, Rachel is determined to leave no stone unturned in her quest to free the man accused and convicted of a heinous murder that had rocked the city 30 years back.

Deke is not amused by Rachel’s attempts to open a case that had been sitting tidily gathering dust for more than 3 decades. The fact that it had been Deke’s father who had worked the case makes it doubly harder for Deke to believe that anything amiss might have taken place when Jeb was convicted. However, Deke is not a man to turn his back on the tough situations. And the fact that the string of new murders that have rocked the city of late bears a resemblance to the murder of Annie haunts him enough to give the old case a more than cursory look to keep Rachel off his back.

Both Rachel and Deke aren’t the soft malleable types. Rachel is driven by the fact that she was unable to save her own brother and justice and truth had really not prevailed at all as she had hoped and prayed for back then. Deke has never known a life that didn’t involve crimes of the worst kind humanity has to offer. Working undercover for over a decade had left its mark on Deke as well. Two failed marriages attests to the fact that he is better off on his own and Rachel definitely is not the type of woman for him though Deke can’t deny the flare of interest and attraction that the challenge that is Rachel presents.

Piece after piece of the puzzle points towards the night Annie was bludgeoned to death and it is not long before Deke and Rachel reluctantly teams up to find who is behind the frenzied killing spree that seems to be hitting closer to home than both Deke and Rachel would like. In the midst of it all, the attraction that had been sizzling right from the onset breaks surface and there is no going back for either Deke or Rachel in the way they make each other feel.

Like I said at the start of my review, Cover Your Eyes is one of those novels that is hard to put down. From the minute I started reading, one thought kept crossing my mind; Mary Burton definitely knows how to spin a good yarn. Vibrant characters that leaps off the pages, suspense that kept turning the pages and subtle hints of a romance between the two leads gave a story that was worth losing myself into. If there is one thing that I can say about this book; you definitely would not be bored.

I loved both Deke and Rachel. They both invoked emotions of the good kind in me without much of an effort. I understood Rachel and the need that drove her to seek justice for those society would rather label as scum and move on. I admired her for the zeal that she shows and yet there is a vulnerable core to her that makes her the irresistible character that she is. Deke, sigh, now Deke was a hero who got to me. There are no vivid descriptions of him as to why readers should adore him because he is just that heroic or handsome, but there is an intensity and drive to him that perfectly syncs with Rachel. And man oh man, the minute Rachel undressed him and found all those tattoos, I swear that a part of me just swooned then and there.

If there is anything I would like to change in the story, it would be to increase the romance aspect just a bit. Even then, how the romance bit as it is covered in the story seemed to suite two people like Deke and Rachel who don’t require the overly done confessions of love that would bridge their emotional connection. Somehow, the wizard that Mary Burton is, she managed to give a satisfying story on all counts. I am definitely digging into her backlist to see whether there are any more books I might like. If you ask me, there are too few authors who do the romantic suspense genre justice and I believe I have found one in Mary Burton. Recommended.

Final Verdict: Mary Burton spins one hell of a story. Unputdownable!

Favorite Quotes

The look in Deke’s eyes told Rachel she’d effectively jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.
He released the door handle and cupped her face in his hands. Slowly, he smoothed his thumb over her jawline. The touch sent a shock through her body.
He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.

He cupped calloused hands on her hips. “You’ve got me all figured out.”
“Doesn’t take a rocket scientist. Two divorces under your belt are warning enough.” She moved against him, smiling as he hardened. “But I don’t want forever. I want now.”
His hands trailed up her arms to her shoulders. He pulled her toward him and kissed her hard on the mouth. He hadn’t disagreed with words but his kiss had a possessive edge that said otherwise.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: The Buried by Shelley Coriell

Format: E-booktheburied
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: The Apostles, #2
Publisher: Forever
Hero: Theodore “Hatch” Hatcher
Heroine: Grace Courtemanche
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: October 21, 2014
Started On: October 25, 2014
Finished On: October 26, 2014

The Buried is my first Shelley Coriell and of course my first foray into her The Apostles series. The Apostles is comprised of the very best in law enforcement, skilled at weeding out killers of the most heinous variety. Not having read The Broken, book 1 in the series didn’t affect me in any way when I was readingThe Buried, though I did feel the need to check out the former afterwards so it is quite safe to say that this can be read as a standalone.

Grace Courtemanche is a public prosecutor riding the high of having won one of the toughest cases of her career. Forced to go on vacation by her boss to take some time off, Grace however is plunged into the midst of a murder that is in the process of happening when the first victim aka Lia Grant calls her from a hole in the ground, where she has been buried to face her imminent death. From the minute Grace hears the desperation in Lia’s voice, she knows deep in her heart that life as she knows is never going to be the same again.

Theodore “Hatch” Hatcher is lured back to Cypress Bend by just one phone call. And what makes him stay is more than just the knowledge that he has a 13 year old son that he had never known up till now, but rather the fact that his ex-wife, the only woman that he had ever fallen head over heels in love with was being stalked by a meticulous killer playing a game in which only one can come out as the winner.

Grace is not at all prepared for Hatch to disrupt her life all over once again. But Grace is a woman who knows to play along with those that are on her team, especially given the circumstances. As the game surpasses level 1, the rules change leaving Grace, Hatch and the team scrambling to catch up in this deadly game of burial which somehow keeps coming back to Grace.

For a fan of romantic suspense like me, The Buried certainly did give me a page turner. Grace and Hatch were wonderful characters. Hatch is sexy, confident in his own skin and quite the charmer. The only problem Hatch has is with settling down and though Grace tempts him in ways no woman ever has or will, Hatch has a hard time making up his mind about doing the forever thing once again.

Grace turned out to be a surprisingly lovely heroine. Called the blonde bulldozer or justice seeking missile by those who know her work, Grace is one determined woman if ever there was one. Strong and confident in her abilities, Grace has a softer side to her that complements well with that edge of hers and I fell like a ton of bricks for that woman.

The twist at the end when it came was a definite shocker, one that rendered me into a place where I found it really difficult to see the villain in just black and white. The thought that kept crossing my mind was, if I had been subjected to the same would I have turned out any different. And I guess that is a question that would haunt me for a while yet and I always say this, books that makes you question your feelings and emotions, especially when it comes to villains, those are the ones that makes reading books such as this one worth seeking out!

Recommended.

Final Verdict: Secrets of a buried past that kills at will & keeps the pages turning!

Favorite Quotes

You should have told me.” His mouth and jaw barely moved as he spoke.
She tried to ease away, but he moved with her. “Told you what?”
“Hmmmmm, where should I start?” With his free hand, he jammed a finger in the air. “One, you received threats from a convicted felon. Two, you received nine phone calls from a girl presumably buried alive. And three, as we speak, a forensic team is sifting through dirt in your backyard looking for human bones.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Oh, Princess. Dear, dear Princess.” He moved closer, a big, graceful, golden cat. He stopped a hairsbreadth from touching her, but the heat of his skin warmed her, nipping at the chill that had set in yesterday with Lia’s phone calls. When he spoke, his breath fanned her face in a low, rumbling half-purr, half-growl. “You have been and always will be my business.”

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Lions And Lace by Meagan McKinney

Format: E-booklionsandlace
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Van Alen Sisters, #1
Publisher: Island Books
Hero: Trevor Byrne Sheridan
Heroine: Alice Diana Van Alen
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: April 1, 1992
Started On: October 5, 2014
Finished On: October 12, 2014

My search for romances that feature ruthless heroes is an endless one. A time consuming one at that too. Some might call these heroes the uber alpha heroes. Or some just call them anti-heroes; you love them and hate them in equal doses. And some call them gamma heroes too because they go beyond the boundaries that define who an alpha hero is.

Authors of today who write such heroes have become far and few in between. Anne Stuart is my go to author for such heroes. Sandra Brown and Linda Howard are authors who have pushed that boundary time and yet again in some of their novels. For  the most part, these type of heroes aren’t well received by almost half of the romance reading population today. With the change of times, with the feminist movement rising above, readers no longer like the heroes who are tad on the wild side, those who don’t conform to their definition of what a hero should constitute of and if you ask me, its such a damn shame.

So a whole lot of boredom and a whole lot of internet searches later, I came across a website that had a list of books that features ruthless heroes. Now mind you, some readers define a hero as ruthless a tad differently to how I tend to define them. Luckily, this reader tended to veer towards my tastes and alas, I found myself with a couple of books I haven’t already read, that feature the heroes of the variety that I deem as ruthless but those with just that hint of redeemable quality that makes me fall like a ton of bricks for them every single time.

Lions and Lace features such a hero. Trevor Byrne Sheridan, the Wall Street wonder who rose to the top with basically nothing to his name, is Irish, and persona non grata where society is concerned. A chip on his shoulder a mountain wide, Trevor remembers the slights, the mockery and the laughter behind his back though he is equally revered by the men for the power and wealth he amasses day in and day out. The tipping point comes when society refuses to turn up at his younger sister Mara’s debut. People say that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, well let me tell you, they haven’t had their dose of Trevor just yet.

Alice Diana Van Alen lives under the thumb of her uncle, her finances tied up under his name after the tragic death of her parents. Alice holds the secret of her younger sister close to her heart, a secret she is determined to carry to her grave. Alice lands under Trevor’s radar as one from the society who slighted his sister. His vengeance on her is swift, the revenge he takes on her forcing her hand into marrying him one that should have brought satisfaction to his heart. However, Trevor becomes a victim to his own plan, falling for a woman of the society, something he scorns with his very being.

Lions and Lace is a novel that provides a ton of angst. Trevor is ruthless in his revenge and seemingly doesn’t care much about the pain he causes along the way. I think the fact that the author didn’t provide much in the story from Trevor’s point of view seemed to double the angst factor which I absolutely loved. Instead, the reader has to look for clues of his torment from his actions, the way his facial expressions tended to change and of course the volatile desire that courses through Trevor whenever his wife comes into the picture. He hates the very thing that his wife represents, his bitterness about his past refusing to let him move beyond that and see his wife for who she really is, and yet he can’t help but want to possess her for himself in every single way.

Alice turned out to be a heroine who got on my nerves in the first half of the story and later on redeemed herself through her actions. From the firm grip Alice seemed to have on her emotions and what she wanted for her life, I thought that Alice would prove to be a worthy opponent where Trevor was concerned. But every time Trevor said something cruel, all Alice could seem to do was wring her hands in despair and run off crying. I wanted her to buck up and deal, to make Trevor realize the error of his ways and practically storm through his heart leaving nothing to chance. And eventually, Alice does get there and that is where I decided to forgive her and consider her worthy of the fall that Trevor would take from his pedestal.

There was a thread of a secondary romance inserted in the story, in the middle of nowhere I would have to say, and I didn’t overly care much for it. I wanted Trevor and Alice’s relationship to be the core aspect of the story. Trevor’s control was one I wanted to be shattered so badly that when it did come, it did deliver on the fronts that I wanted it to. And ladies, prepare yourselves for one of the best declarations of love by a hero of this type; it did make tears spring to my eyes and that rarely happens.

If you like your heroes ruthless and I mean really ruthless, Lions and Lace is a story worth digging into. I would recommend it if you can get past the first couple of chapters where the heroine could get on your nerves, but in the end gives in beautifully.

Final Verdict: Trevor Byrne Sheridan; slow down my galloping heart.

Favorite Quotes

In the years to come she would always remember her first sight of Trevor Byrne Sheridan. He stood in silhouette. She was not privy to the details of his face, but he left a deep and lasting impression on her. He held a walking stick, an unusual accoutrement for such a tall, muscular form. His straight, formal figure was pleasing, yet his stance left her feeling as if a frigid wind had just passed through her heart. He crossed his arms and tipped his head back to look down at her as she almost knelt on the wet marble stairway, and in the shadows he looked every bit as cold, dark, and forbidding as the night that mercilessly pelted her with rain. And she knew then, with a truth that pierced her very soul, that the devil before her now was sure to be worse than the one who had just left her behind.

“I am human,” she whispered. “If you just looked close enough.”
“I want to.” His breath feathered against her forehead. “I swear I want to.”
His mouth found hers in the moment she realized she’d yet to let go of his arm. He kissed her, offering damnation and salvation in one eloquent motion. She wanted to pull back, but something stronger—his arm, she thought— pushed her farther into his embrace until she was wrapped in his warmth and strength.

He lifted his head, and his mouth again captured hers, creating more heat between her thighs. The pleasure he gave her was like a band of rubber being pulled until it snapped and she fell, twisting in the air until he caught her, his hand beneath her hips to hold her closer, to make her pleasure complete.
“Trevor,” she moaned, chanting his name in surrender.
It drove him over the edge. He seized her and bit out the word, “Jeysus,” then fell against her, sated.

His tongue, hot and strong, thrust again and again into her needful mouth, a wild accompaniment to the thrum of the shower. Demandingly, he cupped her breast, his palm brushing the steam droplets that clung to her nipples like diamonds. He flicked open the buttons to his trousers.
She was hardly aware of what he did next. Her only sensation seemed to be his mouth on hers and the overriding instinct that he wanted her, ferociously.

She shook her head and said again to that unyielding back, “Do you love me?”
“I’ve never been in love before. I don’t know what being in love is like.”
“I’m asking you. Do you love me?” Her voice caught with unshed tears.
He paused as if thinking through each word. “I’ve nothing to compare it to, but if love is obsession, if love can be so powerful it overtakes a man’s reason and his will, if love is the feeling that one would rather die than live only to grieve its loss—” He turned, and she could see the desolation on his face. In one sweet rough whisper, he said, “Then yes, I love you, Alana. I’m doomed to love you. I’ll always love you.”

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Mean Streak by Sandra Brown

Format: E-bookmeanstreak
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Hayes Bannock
Heroine: Dr. Emory Charbonneau
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: September 2, 2014
Started On: September 28, 2014
Finished On: September 29, 2014

Mean Streak by Sandra Brown hit the bookshelves just earlier this month. I stumbled across the release of Mean Streak quite by accident. Ever since then, I’ve been biding my time until its release, putting it on my calender so that I could have it in my hands as soon as the book released. It would be an understatement to say that I am a HUGE fan of Sandra Brown. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that she is one of those authors who have compelled me to keep reading romance and also instilled in me a love for the genre. Her books are those that I have read, re-read and then re-read again when I had hit an all time low on reading books that somehow keep falling short of hitting all those vital spots that makes a book stand out in more ways than one.

Mean Streak is a novel that hits all those spots. Dr. Emory Charbonneau is a pediatrician who shares a practice with two other OB-GYNs, a philanthropist, a general do-gooder and a marathon runner. Her three plus year marriage had been going downhill for quite sometime and Emory’s latest planned run in her quest to challenge herself up in the solitude of the mountains couldn’t have come at a better time when she needs to get away and sort things out. However, rather than clearing her head and getting a timeout from her life as Emory planned, she ends up waking up in a strange hut, with a man who frightens her with his size, intensity and the sparkle of something inside of her that she dares not name.

Forced by circumstances, Emory stays with the man who remains secretive about his name and elusive about anything to do with him that might reveal who is. Fearing the worst, Emory would like to believe that she is immune to that gentle touch and the calm and quiet that exudes from a man who should really be menacing rather than making her feel sheltered and protected in a place where there seems to be no one else but just the two of them. And without Emory realizing, she does the worst thing possible under the circumstances; she falls for the man whose name she knows not, but whose merest touch has the power to melt her on the spot.

Sandra Brown’s mastery with storytelling is evident in Mean Streak. For 3/4ths of the story, you never know the name of the man up in the mountains who shelters a woman suffering from a concussion, yet unleashes his ferocity on those who deserves it. Emory who has led a pretty “normal” life on the scale of things up till then can’t decide whether she is attracted to or afraid of the man who makes her feel so many emotions that it becomes difficult for her to identify which one is the strongest.

Hayes Bannock, the hero turns out to be quite the surprising character in the story. Surprising in the sense, you are as stupefied as Emory when it comes to him. The different facets to his character though he reveals nothing of himself is what makes him such a fascinating character. And in the end when Sandra reveals his full character to you, you are left with the feeling of how totally wrong you could be about a person and how easily you could be led to believe a totally different “truth” about a person. And that was unsettling and brilliant in itself. Hayes is the type of hero that has faded away from the genre as authors strive and write heroes of the variety that pleases “feminists” in general. And because of this rarity and because I am a sucker for a ruthless and dangerous man as Hayes, I loved Sandra’s unapologetic portrayal of him as a hero that defies the accepted norm when it comes to creating heroes. A man who asks to make dirty memories with him; well that’s a hero you can’t ever go wrong with.

The explosive attraction between Hayes and Emory was of the shiver worthy kind of the good variety. Hayes is all male; confident, dominant and totally unapologetic in the way he takes, possesses and destroys every single notion that Emory has about sexual attraction and love. Hayes though he doesn’t show much of how he feels, the words of passion exchanged between Emory and himself during long and dark hours of the one night they spend together reveals just how much Emory changes Hayes’ stance and perspective on the life he has been leading up till then. Those flashbacks that Emory has of the time they spent together? Erotic, compelling and definitely ties you up in knots.

The end when it came encompassed everything I could have wanted for the story. Emory’s life that is in danger, which is revealed as the story progresses gives you the most shocking twist of all, and that ladies and gentlemen, is how you write suspense of the variety that keeps the pages turning. I was a bit apprehensive towards the last pages of the book thinking that Sandra wouldn’t deliver the happily ever after for Hayes and Emory as I had been craving. If you have read Lethal by Sandra Brown, you’d know exactly what I am talking about. But thankfully, there was a wonderful ending to Mean Streak that I believe did the story justice in all the ways possible.

Combining masterful suspense and heated passion, Sandra delivers one of the best novels of the year. Most definitely recommended! And now I have to contemplate on how to resign myself to books that would fall short in comparison and send me into despair until the next book that would deliver on all fronts, which seems to happen less and less as I read more.

Final Verdict: Oh dear Sandra Brown, thank YOU for this one!

Favorite Quotes

Her attempt to be a femme fatale had ended on an ironic twist: it was she who’d been seduced. She had put on that mortifying display, but when he began caressing her, she stopped playacting. He’d pulled her to him, and she’d felt him hard and insistent against her, and the truth had been undeniable. She’d wanted him.
Every feminine urge had sprung to life, and it wasn’t just the long dormancy that had made her sexual desire so acute. It was him. She wanted to experience him, every rough surface, every gruff word, his outdoorsy scent, the whiskey taste of his breath, the arrogant jut of his penis. She had wanted the totality of him with a reckless disregard for what was right and proper for Dr. Emory Charbonneau.

“The brothers were fighting when I came out to get you. What was that about?”
“Me.”
“You?”
“Will asked me if I was a homo.”
“How crass. What did you say?”
He looked at her for a moment, then removed his hand from the doorknob, placed it around the back of her neck beneath her hair, and pulled her up to receive his kiss—his open-mouthed, exploratory, evocative, and unshy kiss, which started out slow but soon acquired an urgency that was barely contained.
He kissed her like he meant it, like this kiss was going to be the last thing he ever did on earth, and he was going to do it right, thoroughly, and leave nothing wanting.
But she was left wanting, and judging from the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the fever in his eyes when he jerked his head back, he’d been left wanting, too.
Roughly, he said, “I told him no.”

“Last chance.”
She placed her palms on his chest and then slid them up onto his shoulders.
“Okay. I warned you. I told you that if I ever got my hands on you again—”
“You’d put them all over me.”
“That’s not all I said I’d do.”
He covered her lips with his and unleashed the hunger he’d restrained the night before. Nothing was tempered, not the introduction of his tongue, not the need with which her mouth opened to him, not the darkly erotic words that he whispered when he finally broke the kiss and released her, but only so he could hastily undo the buttons of his shirt she wore.

He pushed into her in one, purposeful glide.
“Jesus, Doc,” he groaned, “I promised you it wouldn’t hurt.”
“It won’t.”
“It might.”
Flexing his hips, he seated himself even deeper, then stretched out above her and began moving. Mating. All raw, male power and surety. Unapologetic, dominant and possessive.

He lowered his head to her breasts, sipped at her tight nipples and flicked them with his tongue.
Her orgasm was shattering.
With a snarled obscenity he pulled out barely in time and imprinted her body with his.
Writhing and straining, they wrung out every ounce of pleasure, and when he came, the pulses were strong and intense. Then they seemed to melt into each other, spent.

His voice a sexy rasp, he said, “You’re not gonna go run screaming from me?”
In a sublime state of arousal, she smiled and shook her head no.
“Then make memories for me, Doc.”
“Memories?”
Leaving her breasts tingling, he skimmed his hand down over her belly. He contemplated the architecture of her hipbone as though it was a marvel. Then he brushed the backs of his fingers over the soft hair. “Make memories for me to take out and play with when you’re gone.”
“What kind of memories?”
Her question ended on a surprised inhale when he deftly relocated and moved her thighs far enough apart to accommodate his wide shoulders. She could almost feel the probe of his hot gaze as he slid his hands under her and pulled her closer. She definitely felt the first sweep of his tongue, then his lips moving against her as he whispered. “Dirty ones.”

[Hayes] “Sorry, Doc.”
[Emory] “For what?”
[Hayes]”Keeping you awake.”
[Emory] “I haven’t complained.”
[Hayes]”So, you don’t want me to stop?”
[Emory] “No.”
[Hayes]”Don’t stop this?”
[Emory] “No. God no. Don’t…don’t stop.”
[Hayes]”You’ll have to be the one who says you’ve had enough.”
[Emory] “I’m not there yet.”
[Hayes]”Good. Because I can’t stop.”

When she lay back, he followed her down and sank into her, pushing until they couldn’t possibly be any closer, then he settled his weight onto her and buried his face in her neck. “You’ll be the ruin of me. But fuck if I can help myself.”
He levered himself up and, eyes focused on hers, began to thrust into her.
And it was incredible, not only because she was so deliciously tight and silky. She was. Not only because she perfectly timed a corresponding motion for each short, quick jab and every long, smooth glide of his cock. She did.
Not only because whenever he all but pulled out, she worked the tip of his penis with seductive belly-dance motions until he couldn’t stand it any longer and had to again sheathe himself completely.
Not only because her hands caressed him with flawless intuition. And not only because, when she climaxed, he felt every convulsive squeeze, but also saw the tears in her eyes that attested to the overflowing emotion behind them.
All that contributed. But what made him come harder, longer, and more meaningfully than he ever had in his life, was that in those moments when he lost himself in her, she closed her arms around his head, and held it close, and said on a sigh, as though it was the dearest word in her vocabulary, “Hayes.”

Tearing his mouth free of hers, he buried his face in the ell of her shoulder and neck, his breath fast and hot against her skin. “Yeah, okay, something has changed. When I’m by myself in the night, I’ll want you.”
He dipped his head and found her nipple through her clothing, moving his mouth across it as he hoarsely whispered broken phrases. “Sleeping between your thighs, finding your breasts in the dark, listening to your breathing, and smelling your hair on my pillow. I’ll want all that, damn you. Damn you, Doc. You won’t be easy to let go.”

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

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: In Your Dreams by Kristan Higgins

Format: E-bookinyourdreams
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Blue Heron, #4
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: Jack Holland
Heroine: Emmaline Neal
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: September 30, 2014
Started On: September 26, 2014
Finished On: September 28, 2014

The fourth book in the Blue Heron series by Kristan Higgins tells the story of Jack Holland, the only son in the out of John Holland’s four children. Jack has been a substantial part of the previous novels in the series and I was properly excited to be finally reading about him and his road to the happily ever after.

Jack handles the actual wine making process behind the Blue Heron vineyard, the family’s business. Everyone sees and defines Jack as perfection itself from his family to everyone in town to practically anyone who has ever crossed his path. Graced with good looks of the kind women find it hard to look away from together with a bucketload of charm makes him easy to love. Jack is elevated from his status as perfection itself to the town hero when he rescues three boys from drowning, an act that puts Jack in the limelight like never before.

Emmaline Neal is the deputy police chief of Manningsport, having moved just nine months back after having her heart broken by her fiance who had moved on with another woman. Being invited to their wedding means having to turn up to save face and Emmaline is determined to acquire a date of sorts to go with her as moral support. In the end it is Jack who fills the role and though Emmaline has her reservations about going to a wedding where she would be emotionally vulnerable with a man who renders her speechless most of the time, there is not much she can do about it given the short notice.

In Your Dreams tells the story of two individuals who each have powerful back stories to tell. Emmaline the heroine’s story is one that can move most to tears; the rocky childhood that she had, the way she had found that someone with whom she thought she would spend the rest of her life with by the time she had hit eighth grade, only to have her heart smashed to pieces by the wicked turn of events that takes place. The wedding is the place where she is determined to put her past to rest, but it doesn’t come as easy as it sounds.

Jack the perfect son, the perfect citizen of Manninsport finds himself battling symptoms of PTSD though he’d rather die than admit to the fact. Determined to ignore the debilitating conditions to which his symptoms reduce him to, Jack grasps the wedding which is to be held out of town as a lifeline thrown his way, a chance to get away from everything and just breathe. Put his ex-wife into the mix and Jack is ready to scream (something that totally goes against the perfection that his character is famous for) and while neither Jack nor Emmaline thought that anything would happen between them, something that irrevocably ties them together does.

In Your Dreams while wasn’t as heart wrenching as some of the other novels in the series when it came to the relationship between the hero and heroine nevertheless proved to be a riveting read. I couldn’t for the life of me put down the book even into the wee hours of last night and I just had to finish the 400+ pages of the book before I could sigh in contentment and sleep knowing that all was right in Jack and Emmaline’s world.

I totally fell in love with Emmaline. Having had a tough time while growing up, Emmaline makes for a steadfast, snarky and beautiful person. The way she hurts over the man she fell in love with was one that touched my heart and I could literally feel the pain that coursed through Emmaline as she moved through the different stages of heartache before finally moving on.

Now Jack, I had a teeny weeny problem with because there was nothing but perfection to him. It’s hard to put into words what exactly that I found off in Jack but I think there was a little bit too much emphasis on how perfect a man Jack was. There is no one that perfect, everyone has their flaws and everyone has their quirks that annoys and pisses other people off and endears them to others. Though Jack’s past broke my heart I just felt that he needed to come down from that pedestal a bit and reach the level of us humans. I also felt a bit cheated out on not having seen Jack move on from his battle with PTSD; there was a reference to him getting help but I would have loved to see more of that actually realize in the story after having seen how much of an affect the symptoms seemed to have on his life. I know I would be in the minority when it comes to thinking this way about Jack but that is how I felt when I was reading In Your Dreams.

That being said, Kristan Higgins never ceases to amaze me with the incredible stories that she writes and In Your Dreams is no exception. Recommended for those who love humor of the laugh-out-loud variety (the husband seemed perplexed by my bouts of laughter that he couldn’t find any reason for) and those who love honest to goodness variety of storytelling that would keep you up way past midnight turning the pages. And most of you would literally love Jack to pieces. I loved the way he could seduce the pants off of Emmaline and boy, was he good at it. Grab a copy and indulge. You wouldn’t be sorry you did.

Final Verdict: Delicious with a lot of heart; Higgins delivers an unputdownable tale.

Favorite Quotes

He turned his head to breathe in her smell and felt her shiver. She didn’t pull away.
That skin smelled so sweet. He dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder. Smooth as water.
Emmaline inhaled, her breath shaky.
Another kiss, this one closer to her neck.What are you doing? a small voice asked, but it was faint, drowned out by the hard, deep pulse that was thudding through his body. She tasted as good as she smelled.

He pulled her hands over her head and held them there, still kissing her mouth, her neck, the softness of her breasts against his chest making him drunk. She wasn’t protesting. In fact, little sweet sounds were coming from her throat, and he could swear he felt her skin get hotter under his mouth, because he was kissing his way down her neck, scraping her skin with his teeth, because Emmaline Neal was edibly delicious.

Clearing her throat, she looked down at the rumpled sheets. “Hungry?” she asked.
“Starving.” He reached out and, very slowly, pulled the tie of her robe.
“There’s still some cake,” she whispered.
“I wasn’t talking about cake,” he said, his voice deep and rumbly, and her girl parts gave a hot, sudden throb.

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