Category / Grand Central Publishing

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Sweetest Scoundrel by Elizabeth Hoyt

Format: E-booksweetestscoundrel
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Maiden Lane, #9
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Asa Makepeace
Heroine: Eve Dinwoody
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: November 24, 2015
Started On: May 24, 2016
Finished On: May 27, 2016

I have been meaning to dive into this delectable novel for quite sometime now. Crista on Goodreads is a romance reader whose tastes fairly match that of mine. So I make it a point every now and then to grab some recommendations off her shelf of books, which is how this sweet number caught my eye. This was not my first Hoyt novel as I had previously sampled her talent through her novel The Raven Prince which I reviewed way back in 2012.

Sweetest Scoundrel is book 9 in the Maiden Lane series. Though I picked this novel up without having read the rest of the novels prior to this in the series, I had no trouble at all in picking up the story and I believe this works perfectly well as a standalone. However, having since then gone back and sampled the rest of the novels in the series, I have to say that the full impact of meeting some of the secondary characters that makes their way into the story might not be felt if you decide to pick this up like I did. Nevertheless the enjoyment factor when it comes right down to it is not affected in anyway.

Asa Makepeace is the owner of the pleasure garden known as Harte’s Folly, though few know of the fact, especially not his family. Asa has a chip on his shoulder the size of Manhattan itself when it comes to letting his family know how he earns his living. Though when I first heard of the term “pleasure gardens”, I thought to myself it must be something akin to a brothel or the likes of it, which must be the reason why Asa was so reluctant for his siblings to know of his occupation, I was proven wrong as I read along. I realized that the term was used to denote places which were highly popular in the 17th, 18th and 19th century as a place where patrons can buy tickets to gain entrance and then enjoy a variety of performances such as plays, operas, and symphonies, and even enjoy a meal or two and explore the gardens within which the whole thing takes place. Asa’s reluctance for his family to know that he is the owner of the place stems from his childhood, and the fact that the Makepeace family is fairly religious considering all things.

Sweetest Scoundrel begins at a point where Asa runs into a bit of a trouble with Harte’s Folly being reduced to ashes in a fire, which meant having to start all over. Running short of the kind of capital required to do that, Asa had taken the helping hand lent by the Duke of Montgomery, which is how Asa’s life is invaded by Eve Dinwoody, the Duke’s half sister.

Eve is described as a woman with plain features, someone men would not notice all that much at a first or even third glance. That is what happens with Asa as well when Eve practically forces her way into his business activities, throwing Asa’s life into disarray of the kind he starts to find appealing in a way he never thought possible. But Eve’s past is mired in the kind of darkness and violence that has held her a captive of its memories, leading Eve to live a life half-lived, under the protection afforded by those that she keeps close to her heart.

Working with Asa in close proximity makes Eve stand up and notice things she would not have if otherwise. And for the very first time in Eve’s life, in Asa’s warm and passionate embrace, Eve finds within herself the courage to step outside of the circle that binds and shackles her to the past, a way to break free of the mold that every one has pretty much thought was a given where she was concerned.

Hoyt’s stories aren’t just plain romance novels. There is so much more happening in each and every single one of her stories that I have read since picking up Sweetest Scoundrel to read. There is of course romance of the kind that makes your heart go pitter-patter, there is the factor of enchantment to her stories via the chapter openers that precede every single chapter with a mini fairy tale that keeps you turning the pages. There is also the portion of mystery that adds in the intrigue factor and that is what makes reading a Hoyt novel an experience of the kind you would not find elsewhere.

Asa is a hero well crafted. He is handsome, earthy, passionate and virile in a way that makes your insides go hot in just the merest of seconds. He is also a straightforward kind of character that makes him more endearing in my eyes. There are so many novels out there, especially historical romances where characters always talk in double entendres that can be quite tiring, perhaps an effort by the author to make his or her characters sound overly intelligent. Thus, I appreciate candid honesty in characters because I tend to be a pretty straightforward person myself.

I loved Asa for so many things, the utmost of reasons being his patience when it comes to dealing with Eve. It is not easy for a woman such as Eve to give into her desire to touch and be touched by a man such as Asa. Not because he is a brute or scares her in that sense, but because of a past that makes her reluctant to even test the waters when it comes to the opposite sex. Eve’s courage when it came right down to it was something that I approved of wholeheartedly. There is being afraid and there is being stubborn and mule headed enough not to want to change. I was glad that Eve belonged to a category of her own and charted her own path towards what was best for her. Some of the scenes of passion are downright hot and steamy! Whoever said that historical romance writers do not know how to steam up a carriage window have not been reading right!

Sweetest Scoundrel is a novel that all romance readers, especially those who love unconventional historical romances ought to read. I friggin’ loved the whole thing!

Final Verdict: Rich in detail & multi-layered in characterization, Sweetest Scoundrel makes for a beguiling read!

Favorite Quotes

She lifted her chin. “Then I suppose our discussion is done.”
She turned to go, but he had a hard grip on her upper arm, pulling her back.
“Not yet it’s not,” he growled.
She fought down the old, nauseous fear. “Let go of me.”
“Why?” He cocked his head, an ugly sneer on his beautiful lips. “Can’t stand my touch?”
“Yes!” she tossed back, losing her patience, her self-control, and any upper hand she’d ever had in their argument.
Which was when he took her by the shoulders, pulled her roughly into his arms, and pressed his mouth to hers.
And Eve lost her sanity.

Her breath caught on the thought. Was he saying that a woman would put her hands—her mouth—there?
Her bodice felt suddenly too tight as her breaths became faster. She didn’t know where to look: at those long fingers massaging his own leg or his glinting, knowing green eyes.
“And of course,” he continued, “a woman can pleasure herself—with her hand—and a man…” His hand drifted up, straight to the top of his widely spread legs. He gripped himself frankly—lewdly—and looked at her.
She lost all sense of propriety. All sense of place and time and who he was and who she was.
She stared back into those sensuous green eyes and whispered, “Show me.”

Her nostrils flared as she inhaled. There was a musky scent in the air, salty and animal, and it made her clench her legs together.
He grinned suddenly, his white teeth gritted together, as if he knew what he did to her. His fist was moving faster now, the deep red head of his cock appearing and disappearing between his fingers. It shone, fully revealed, and so big she bit her lip.
“Now,” he grunted. “Now, Eve, watch me. Are you watching me?”
“Yes,” she moaned.
The muscles stood out in his neck as a white liquid erupted from his cock, flowing and spurting, his legs shaking, his hand slowing.
And the entire time he watched her.

He couldn’t take it anymore.
He wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her up, pulled her across his chest, pulled her into a kiss so filthily explicit his tongue might as well have been fucking her mouth.
They groaned in unison and he wrapped his hand over hers, forcing her fingers tight around his erection, showing her how to pull up, the loose skin sliding over his hot core—oh, sweet, sweet God—and down, fisting tight, moving faster, his hips pumping up into their shared grasp.
She moaned and his hips jerked at the sound.
And then she sucked his tongue and hot pleasure speared him. He convulsed, spunk spewing over his fingers, over hers. He smeared them both in it as he yanked himself through it, shuddering.

She wanted to ride him, wanted to hide him away in her bedroom, to use only for herself.
She was jealous of every woman who had come before her. Had used this wonderful penis. Had heard his groan.
She opened her eyes. But it was the women who would come after that she truly wanted to kill.
He was hers. He should never share this part of himself with anyone else.

She threw back her head, riding him hard, the sweat sliding down between her breasts. He lurched up, half sitting, his arm propping him up, and licked the sweat from her body.
She cried out, gasping, holding his head to her even as he sucked one nipple into his mouth. She felt the pull, felt the answering gush, and knew she was falling apart, spreading outward, a star exploding.
He gasped and let go of her breast, bowing his head to her chest, his hair wild and tangled against her as he groaned and shook.
She felt heat inside her and rose one last time, spreading wide her thighs, shoving him as deep inside her as she could.
Trying to keep him forever.

“Because I deserve more,” she said. “I deserve a man who loves me above all else. I deserve a family and happiness.”
“Then go!” he growled. “Go off and find this mythical man and spread your legs for him if it’ll give you what you want.”
She took two strides toward him and slapped him, quick and hard, and then her eyes widened as she realized what she’d done. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
He turned his face back to her slowly, almost lazily. “I’m not.”
And then she was in his arms, his mouth on hers, wild and hot and dangerously close to out of control. He thrust his hand into her hair, holding her head immobile, and ravished her mouth, biting, tonguing, thrusting.

She remembered her hand and how to work it, tearing open his falls and the smallclothes beneath. Her breaths were coming in hot little pants now and she stared up at him as she took him into her fist. She would remember this. She’d remember this until her dying day, she promised herself.
“Ah, Eve,” he groaned, his head falling back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He thrust once, convulsively, into her hand, and then he was lifting and spreading her legs, taking his cock out of her hand, thrusting into her.
She gasped, it was so fast. A complete possession.

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

amazingread

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Deadline by Sandra Brown

Format: E-bookdeadline
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Dawson Andrew Scott
Heroine: Amelia Wesson née Nolan
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: September 24, 2013
Started On: December 26, 2015
Finished On: January 27, 2016

Deadline by Sandra Brown is another masterpiece by an author whose books rarely turn out to be a miss where I am concerned. Whether it be just plain romance or romantic suspense, Sandra has a way with putting the story out there that leaves the reader on tenterhooks. Deadline was such a book for me. While I felt that there was a brief lull towards the middle of the book, the revelations at the end that knocked me off my feet, made up for it in more ways than one.

Dawson Andrew Scott is a news reporter for NewsFront. His recent stint in Afghanistan, covering stories in the region had come with its own price. Suffering from PTSD which Dawson refuses to talk about or seek help for, it is Dawson’s godfather and FBI Agent Gary Headly that comes to his rescue with the tantalizing lead on a possible story that acts effectively as bait where Dawson is concerned.

Dawson turns up at the Chatham County Courthouse to follow the developing story on a murder trial that involves Marine Captain Jeremy Wesson, a decorated war veteran who is presumed dead. When Amelia, widow of Jeremy and mother to his two boys takes the stand to give her testimony, Dawson feels as if he has been sucker punched in his solar plexus. The reaction he has towards Amelia is one that he knows can cloud his judgement when it comes to following the particular vein of the unfolding story that he is interested in.

Dawson maneuvers his way into Amelia’s life without knowing just how close to danger he is skirting. Though Dawson resists the connection that exists between him and Amelia from the onset, the series of events that reaches its explosive conclusion is one that refuses to let Dawson remain unaffected. The ending when it came, delivered a book worth every moment of agony and helplessness that both Amelia and Dawson are subjected to throughout the story.

Deadline is a book that delivered one of the most explosive endings that I have read from Sandra Brown to-date. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I reached that point, having had to go back and re-read the passage a couple of times before the reality of it all could actually sink in. It was that good, that riveting and I truly never saw that coming, which was the best part.

Dawson is the hero of the variety that Sandra Brown excels at. Earthy, sexy and alpha in a way you can’t help but be drawn towards. Dawson’s character grows on you because of the PTSD he battles, and because he has that quality which ensnares you helplessly as you read on. Amelia’s finest quality is her protectiveness towards her sons. Having dealt with a husband who had suffered from PTSD and made life a living hell on Earth for her before, makes Amelia wary of putting herself in the same position again. But as circumstances would have it, none of what Amelia sees nor has experienced is what it seemed to have been and before the story is through, Amelia finds herself falling for a man who is determined to do just the opposite. Amelia’s adorable kids gives the story that wholesome edge which gave it the charm factor.

Recommended!

Final Verdict: The explosive ending alone, carves in stone, the sheer genius that is Sandra Brown.

Favorite Quotes

“Pictures of me and my children, taken by a total stranger. You bet they made me uncomfortable. Especially since you failed to explain the reason for them.”
“I didn’t explain?”
“No. And I asked.”
“Oh. I took them so I could study you.”
“As part of your research?”
“No, so I could get to know you.”
“I don’t want you to know me.”
It could have been a trick of the lights along the dock, reflecting off the water. Or his gaze really did move down to her mouth when he said in a low and stirring voice, “That’s too bad.”

“Then why are you here? I told you that I wouldn’t cooperate with any story you intend to write. Why don’t you just go away and leave us alone? You weren’t even all that interested in the story of Jeremy Wesson. You said you were about to reject it and move on to something else more interesting. Why didn’t you?”
“Fair enough. You want to know why?”
He slid his hands under her hair behind her neck and drew her forward until her body was flush against his, his legs sandwiching hers, their faces not quite touching. “Why didn’t I leave this goddamn story alone?” He brushed his thumbs across her lower lip. “Because you walked into that courtroom.”

Her head tipped back. Taking that as encouragement, his kisses on her neck became more fervent. By the time they reached her ear, there was intent behind them, and she responded. Tension escaped her on a sigh. Her body settled, ever so slightly shifting closer to him. Tentatively she placed her hands on his shoulders.
He eased his head back and looked into her eyes. “I’m not him, Amelia. I’m not like him. I swear to you, I’m not. I have it under control.”
“I’m not afraid you’ll lose control.” Her voice was low and husky, and he wished it was something he could touch, stroke, taste. “I’m afraid I will.”

With a rasped curse, he cupped her head between his hands and claimed a kiss that was unapologetically deep from the start. There was no buildup to the intimacy, because he’d been thinking about making love to her mouth from the moment he saw her in the courtroom.
She didn’t shy away, but kissed him back in kind, with heat, her fingers alternately kneading his shoulders and tugging handfuls of his hair. Her unrestraint was as much a surprise as it was a delight.

Amelia rubbed against him seductively, each movement sweetly feminine and small but breath stealing. He wasn’t as subtle. His hands roved selfishly and impatiently, greedy for the feel of her skin. He pushed his hand into the loose waistband of her pajama bottoms and caressed the curve of her hip. In response, her thighs shifted, separated. He fit himself into the notch.

“Hmm?”
“We can’t.”
“I know.” But he didn’t stop at her collarbone. He continued down, placing soft kisses on her chest.
“Really,” she said weakly.
“I know.”
Through the thin cotton tank top, his hand cupped her breast and pushed it up to swell above the neckline. He rubbed his rough cheek against it, then turned his face into the plumpness and kissed it open-mouthed. Hard with arousal, he fit himself into the V between her thighs. The sensation was so intense, she gasped.

Ten minutes later, Dawson rejoined her in the kitchen. He went straight to the glass of tea she had dutifully poured and drained it without taking a breath.
“Well?”
“Well,” he said, stretching out the word, “they’ve both experienced what I assured them was a perfectly normal biological phenomenon.”
“Ah. I thought that might be it. I’ve noticed that phenomenon on occasion, but always pretended not to, as any lady would.”
“Hunter experienced a rather, uh, stubborn one today. He was afraid it signified something terribly wrong with him, which he wanted to keep from you so you wouldn’t worry or get upset.”
“That sweetheart.”
“Grant was just as considerate of your feelings. He felt you should be told about the affliction in case they both died of it and you found them dead in their beds without knowing what had killed them.”

She fumbled with the buttons on his fly and then her hand was claiming him, her fingers tightly squeezing, massaging their way up until her thumb was at the tip, pressing—
“Jesus.” Gasping with pleasure, he ground his forehead against the wall behind her shoulder in an effort not to come. “Wait, wait.”
The fabric of her skirt was as light as air against his hands as he slid them beneath it. He worked his fingers under a wedge of lace. She was soft and warm and wet. He quickly rid her of the underpants so he could luxuriate in the femaleness, the snug, silky, wonderful feel of her.
She pressed down hard on his exploring fingers, moaned his name, whispered, “More.”
He lifted her up to straddle his thighs and thrust into her, fully, completely, and without caution.

He fucked her. He gave, took, told her with every stroke what he hadn’t been able to convey with words, communicated what he’d felt from the moment he saw her enter the courtroom, and knew, in that instant, that he’d been blessed and doomed in the same heartbeat.
He changed the angle and the tempo to favor her. She clutched handfuls of his hair and squeezed his hips with her thighs. And when her orgasm pulsed around him, he came and came and came.

“So, is that it?” she purred. “Have we run out of fantasies?”
“Hell, we’re just getting started.” Sliding his hand beneath her bottom, he tilted her up. “Going real slow, like now.” He kissed her, his tongue sliding into her mouth with the controlled intensity with which he was pushing into her. He pulled out, almost entirely, before sinking into her a little deeper than before. And again.
She made a small, wanting sound and breathed his name. “What exactly do you call this particular fantasy?”
He buried himself inside her fully and, just as he kissed her again, whispered, “Making love.”

With very little movement, he pumped into her rhythmically while in shockingly coarse terms he described how it felt to be enveloped by her and the pleasure his fingers and mouth derived from pleasuring her. Soon his lyrics changed to those of poets, but the subtext was as erotically charged.
When both were on the brink of implosion, his voice became rough with emotion. His breaths became bursts of air against the back of her neck. In the language of raw need, he gasped, “Squeeze me. Tighter.” His body strained, and each shudder was marked with the harsh, choppy cry of a man in the throes of release that went beyond the physical. Finally, as his body relaxed and enfolded hers, he sighed her name like a benediction.
She fell asleep with all those wonderful words echoing in her heart.

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

greatread

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Low Pressure by Sandra Brown

Format: E-booklowpressure
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Denton Carter
Heroine: Bellamy Lyston Price
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: September 18, 2013
Started On: December 24, 2015
Finished On: December 26, 2015

I have been putting off reading some of the standalone romantic suspense titles by Sandra Brown that had been published of late because some readers have attested to the fact that some of the titles were pure suspense with very little romance in them. Though I love a thriller every now and then, I need my dose of romance in novels to satisfy the closeted romantic deep inside of me. Which is why Low Pressure proved to be such a delicious surprise because the romance between Bellamy Lyston Price and Denton Carter burned hot and bright and as a reader I couldn’t have asked for more.

Bellamy comes from old money, one that had afforded her a cushiony lifestyle though she is not one to rely on that to get by. It is publication of Bellamy’s novel Low Pressure, a fictionalized version of a true story that involves not just Bellamy’s family, but that of many a person who would rather not see the truth of that particular incident come to light that kick starts the story. When Bellamy starts receiving threatening messages, she returns to her hometown where she runs into none other than Denton Carter, the man who had starred in her adolescent dreams, her sister Susan’s boyfriend when she had been murdered and left in the cold in such a brutalized fashion.

Denton is a man who lives with no commitments to his name. Drowning his demons in the bottle and cheap women, sometimes both, Denton chooses to live as he does because nothing apart from flying gives him joy in life. That is until Bellamy and her book Low Pressure stirs up the ugly memories once again, bringing the chip on Denton’s shoulder to the forefront where Bellamy and her family are concerned. However, when both Bellamy and Denton come under fire from an unknown assailant who seems hellbent on revenge, it makes Denton take a second look at Bellamy and her book, which means he gets enticed into looking deeper into the incidents that had unfolded on that fateful day. The deeper Bellamy and Denton dig, the more confusion it throws on the events that had taken place, until it all comes to head in one breathtaking conclusion that brought a twist that at first I never saw coming.

Sandra Brown is a legendary figure in the writing circles because she creates stories that makes you sink your teeth into them and enjoy every morsel of it and in the end leaves you begging for more. Her heroes and heroines are characters you root for – never perfect, but flawed and human. Her heroes are especially drool worthy; I kid you not. Sandra Brown creates heroes of the variety that you can’t help but sigh and moon over and Denton was no exception to this rule. They are earthy, sexy, dominant and very alpha and they deliver that sizzle factor to the novel from start to the very end. Denton’s playful nature in particular, got to me. Most of the time, Sandra’s heroes tend to be on the more serious side and Denton was a refreshing change in that regard.

Low Pressure’s mystery was one that was well done. I loved the twists and turns it took to take me to its ultimate conclusion, leaving me in awe once again to the sheer talent that are authors like Sandra Brown. This story in fact reminded me a little of a novel I read, loved and reviewed recently, Into the Waning Light by Loreth Anne White. There were certain similarities to the concept of the plot though the two stories couldn’t be any more different in the way they were delivered. Needless to say, I loved both these stories and cannot recommend both enough!

A truly masterful storyteller is one that can lull you into thinking that you know where the story is going to be headed. But then bam! Low Pressure made me sympathize and empathize with the “villain” when all was said and done because I could understand where the character was coming from. It is human tendency to paint the dead in a more favorable light than people would view the person when they were alive. That plays a role in Low Pressure as well, with Sandra Brown dealing tactfully and honestly in stripping away the misconception.

Highly recommended for fans of romantic suspense!

Final Verdict: Low Pressure is a book that would cause you many a sleepless night. You will never see it coming!

Favorite Quotes

As a virginal preteen, and as a woman who’d taken lovers, she had daydreamed about kissing Denton Carter. While writing her book, specifically the sex scenes between him and Susan, it hadn’t been her sister he was kissing, caressing, and taking with adolescent fervor. It had been her. The fantasies had left her aroused, but irritated with herself. Surely her imagination embellished how good lovemaking with him would be.
But now she realized that her daydreams had actually been tepid. His kiss was delicious and darkly erotic. It delivered. It promised more. And the substance of what it promised made her wet, feverish, and needy.

“This visit with Steven could be awkward. It won’t help if you’re pouting over what happened, or didn’t happen, last night. There. It’s out. Let’s not make it an unsightly wart that’s there but no one acknowledges.”
“Don’t sweat it, A.k.a. I asked, you—”
“Funny. I don’t recall you asking.”
“Maybe not in so many words, but, just FYI, in a crotch-grinding embrace, when a man’s got his tongue in your mouth and his hand on your ass, it’s a pretty safe bet on what he has in mind. I asked, you said no.”

“You could fly corporate jets.”
He waited for a moment, then, acting on impulse, reached across the distance separating them. He slipped his hand beneath her shirt and curled his fingers inside the waistband of her jeans. Pulling her out of the chair and toward him, he said, “Buy one. I’ll fly you.”
Positioning her between his thighs, he pushed up the hem of her shirt, undid the button on her jeans, and spread open the two ends of the waistband with his thumbs.
“Dent . . .”
“We related on your level, Bellamy. It’s time we came down to mine.”
Then he pressed his open mouth against that wedge of pale, smooth skin.

Then his eyes turned dark. Because she had touched him. At first just a few tentative brushes with her fingers, to indulge her curiosity about the various textures, but, encouraged by his unsteady breathing and that smokiness in his eyes, she took him in her hand. Guided by his gruff whispers, and instinct, she pumped him until he grew incredibly tight. Hot breaths struck her hair as he bent his head over hers and groaned her name.
A drop of moisture leaked from the tip. She took it on her thumb, sucked it off, and pressed her thumb against the center of her lower lip, which he’d told her was sexy. Raspily, he said, “Disappointed, my ass,” then covered her mouth in a fierce kiss that left her mindless.

He sank into her a little deeper and her throat arched up. “That feels amazing.”
“To me, too.”
“But you haven’t . . .”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because you were drifting in euphoria. And I want you to remember this. With perfect clarity.”
She touched his rough cheek. “I could never forget this.”
“Me either.”
“Only because you had to work so hard for it.”
“Nope. Because you’re so damn beautiful.”

A second later, he was sheathed completely, his fingers were entangled in her hair, and his breathing was loud and ragged against her neck. Sliding his hands under her ass, he tilted her up and pushed into her as deep as he could possibly go.
“Jesus, Bellamy.” He hoped that with that guttural moan he’d made her understand just how tight and hot and incredible she felt.
Because when he began to move, he was quickly lost.

He watched the lips of her sex close around it, then looked into her eyes as he began to stroke her with a circular motion that caused her body to quicken and involuntarily thrust against his thumb. Tilting her face toward the ceiling, she closed her eyes and lost herself to the sensations.
Without inhibition, she gave over to her impulses, moved as her body was dictating, and allowed herself to be governed strictly by her senses. She heard Dent’s hiss of pleasure, felt the fervent, wet tug of his mouth on her nipple, the flicking of his tongue in concert with his thumb’s caresses.
She arched her back and cried out his name.

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

awesomeread

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: 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

Review: Tempest in Eden by Sandra Brown

Format: E-booktempestineden
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Ian Douglas
Heroine: Shay Morrison
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: April 1, 2005
Started On: September 7, 2014
Finished On: September 8, 2014

Tempest in Eden is one of those books that I have missed out on in my quest to read all the titles by Sandra Brown. This one came to my notice I think through Amazon that does a wonderful job out of emptying my credit card every month by suggesting books that I definitely MUST have, most of which I never end up reading due to time constraints.

Tempest in Eden tells the story of Shay Morrison, whose mother recently gets remarried. Meeting her stepbrother turns out to be one hell of an encounter, when she sees the man in the shower, completely naked, spellbinding Shay by the complete and utter deliciousness of his physique.

From the moment Shay and Ian meet, it’s a clash of wills between the model that poses nude, someone who has no qualms about showing off parts of her body and Ian who is a Minister, who has devoted his life to serving God. Shay turns into a completely different person around Ian, her need to move past the indifference he shows towards her body and attempts to bring him to heel making her more frustrated and prone to childish tantrums than she believes herself possible.

Tempest in Eden throws the hero and heroine into an intriguing scenario. A clash of wills as well as a clash of beliefs takes place. Shay is quick to anger, because she always ends up being defensive about her life and the career she has chosen. Her defensiveness and the walls she has built around her heart also stems from her past marriage, a marriage that had left its emotional mark on her.

I loved Ian as a hero. He is gentle in his soul, understanding even when Shay tests his patience every now and again with her temper and physically a demanding lover who cannot get enough of the woman who holds him enslaved. I cannot say that I fell in love with Shay. There were times when I felt like shaking some sense into her and then there was the latter part of the story where she grew up and made me fall for her character, just a little.

This might not be the best of Sandra’s work, but her talent nevertheless shines through in this short novel. A bit flowery in prose for my tastes perhaps, but the one thing that has held constant in her past novels, something that I miss in her present ones is that Sandra always manages to capture in her novels the essence of a wildly hedonistic sexual attraction that practically robs two people of their very breath in their desire to consume one another. And that is an emotion that is rarely captured in novels of today.

Recommended for fans of Sandra Brown.

Final Verdict: Nude model vs a Minister. Let the sparks fly!

Favorite Quotes

He went only as far as the third button. With heart-stopping slowness, he carefully parted her blouse. His hand slid around the column of her throat. He pressed his thumb against the pulse point at its base. It was beating erratically. “I had to touch you with some degree of intimacy.” He sighed. She closed her eyes just as his mouth fused with hers.
The kiss was hot, wet, and turbulent, evoking the very act of love. His thumb kept up that hypnotic massage along her neck. It was only a suggestion of the things she wanted him to do. It was only a suggestion of the things his eyes had told her he wanted to do.

“Shay, I can’t wait. Take me inside you.”
He grasped her hips with strong hands, and she let herself be impaled on his strength. Her cries of ecstasy echoed in the small tile enclosure as he fused their bodies with the wet, sleek precision of two sea creatures. Their mating was frenzied and quick. His body shuddered with his release at the same moment that she collapsed onto his chest, dying a little even as his life pumped into her.

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

favorableread

by mvbookreviewer

Review: The Best Man by Maggie Osborne

Format: Hardcoverthebestman
Read with: Hardcover
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Dal Frisco
Heroine: Fredrick Roark
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: January 1, 1998
Started On: March 17, 2012
Finished On: March 18, 2012

The Best Man is a novel that is going to be hard to review, not because it wasn’t a splendid read in all the ways that counts. It is going to be difficult to put into words just how much the story affected me, how the characters that were brought to life in front of my eyes continued to worm their way into my heart and later on etched themselves onto my very soul to stay there for the time to come. As I have said before and I will continue to say this, Maggie Osborne is an author who is one of a kind. She delivers romances that takes you to place you rarely get to go and she gives you a story that you can sink your teeth into and cannot let go!

Joe Roark, owner of the King’s Walk Ranch dies leaving behind 3 daughters and his fourth wife a widow. Each of them grapples with the astounding will that Joe leaves which dictates that his daughters prove their mettle before they are to receive their due inheritance. If that fails to be the case, all the sweat and hard work that Joe had put into building his ranch would be in vain and would be handed over to a wife that he detested more than he did  his daughters.

A man who only wanted sons and got saddled with daughters, Joe refused to let his daughters forget their place in the world. Alexander Roark Mills (Alex), Fredrick Roark (Freddy) and Lester Roark (Les); the 3 daughters whom he had pampered in his way and each of whom had disappointed him in one way or the other suddenly finds themselves tasked with driving a herd of longhorns to the market in Abilene, Kansas. 

Dal Frisco is a man who is looking for a second chance, a chance to turn his life around and achieve his dream of owning his own spread in Montana. To do that, he needs cold hard cash and the news of the infamous will Joe left to his daughters pave the way for him to do exactly just that. What he doesn’t bargain for is to find daughters who look like the high strung type who carry smelling salts in their fringed wrist purses who look and behave as if they have never engaged in an honest day of work in their whole lives. But even then, Freddy with her dark hair and green eyes catch him unawares with the bolt of desire that strikes him upon the very first time their eyes meet.

For Dal, the success of the mission ahead hinges on his ability to prepare the 3 women to face and cope with the challenges of being on the road, to actively take part in delivering the herd in the exact number their father has stipulated in the will. But the number of foes who want nothing more than to see them fail work from within to bring chaos and mayhem to their venture. And through it all, the 3 sisters continue to discover the hard truths about themselves, become better women and go on to form a bond with each other that would remain unshaken till death does them apart.

Labeling The Best Man as the story in which Freddy and Dal discover each other and fall in love would not do justice to a story that is so very much more. The Best Man brings to life the characters of 3 sisters who had grown up trying to compete and outdo each other during their childhood, each resenting the other for one thing or the other. And later when adolescence had hit, the 3 of them had found themselves going their separate ways, never forging a connection befitting that of sisters. Alex elopes while Freddy sets off to embrace her dream of performing in a theater which drives a further wedge between the sisters. Les, the youngest is the one who stays behind, who feels betrayed when her father brings home a wife that disrespects everything they stand for.

For 3 people who have never tried working as a team or have never worked hard a day in their life, the training and the pace that Dal sets serves to be sheer torture. But Dal is the man who forces them to force out their inner strength, to straighten that backbone of steel that each sister has in spades, to embrace the true hidden characteristics within each of them that makes them such appealing characters. Each of them has their own fair share of faults, fears and dreams. And learning about each of them was a journey in itself and I loved every minute of it.

The men who enter into their lives are nor less appealing. Dal plays the most prominent role and he is the stuff that pure alpha men are made out of. He is strong, stubborn, has that inner qualities that makes him a good leader. But he is not without his fair share of faults either. A recovering alcoholic, Dal battles his inner demons day in and day out and the focus shifts from his desire for the drink to his need for a woman that sets his senses afire by merely just existing. Freddy drives him crazy in more ways than one and though Dal might try to tell himself otherwise, Freddy invades his heart and his soul before he is even aware of it happening.

Alex was one of the most complex characters in the story. With a past that portrays her as the most tortured soul in the story, Alex is a character that rouses equal amounts of sympathy and admiration in the reader. At first she comes across as a snob who later transforms into a woman who is able and willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that she and her sisters get what is entitled to them. How Alex discovers love, forgiveness and the courage to move on in one of the most unlikely heroes to crop up put a huge lump in my throat and made me ache in ways I cannot explain. If it is only to discover Alex and the magical transformation she undergoes in this story, it is worth getting yourself a copy of The Best Man.

Les is the sister who has problems with asserting herself. The one who enters into a relationship with an abusive fiance and believes it to be her due. The sister who has the hardest time in putting one foot in front of the other and taking the next step. The one who continually faces the dilemma of doing the right thing and choosing the easy way out. And hers was a story that I read all the while wanting to infuse her with the strength to move on, to be able to stand up and give as good as she gets. And she does get there eventually, surprising herself more than anyone else by just how far she has come by the time the story ends.

Freddy is the dreamer, the one who envisions life as a stage set for acting and she plays the lead role. One hard bump after the other and the tough lessons day in and day out teaches her to face reality, forces her to come crashing down into the world of living rather than continue to walk the Earth with her head up in the clouds. Her desire for Dal is one that catches her by surprise, her innocence the factor that lures her towards a man who shakes her up and tosses her into a maelstrom of desire that she cant shake lose from. 

With Maggie Osborne, you never get a simple straightforward story. She takes you on a journey filled with twists and turns, ups and downs, traversing through roads that brings joy as much as peril comes seeking you out and later on at the end you emerge victorious from all the hard labor you have toiled in, which in the end transforms your reading experience into something wondrous that you won’t forget anytime soon.

Recommended for fans of Maggie Osborne. If you have never read a Maggie Osborne, you are definitely missing out!

Favorite Quotes

His mouth came down on hers hard and hot and deliberate. His kiss was so unexpected that Freddy went limp in his arms with shock. She didn’t fight or protest, couldn’t move or breathe. No one had ever kissed her like this, selfishly, unemotionally, taking with no thought of giving. This kiss was hungry, domineering, something that seared and scorched physically and left her mind reeling.

He kissed her then, not gently, not tenderly. He didn’t kiss her to comfort her. He took her mouth hungrily, almost savagely, wanting to punish her for having a body that tormented him, for telling him that his last kiss had meant nothing, needed to punish her for letting scum like Jack Caldwell call her honey, and for ever thinking about a man who wasn’t him.

He found her breasts with his hands and dropped his lips to her arching throat, tasting dust and woman sweat and a trace of something that reminded him of apples. She tore his shirt at the throat, ripping it downward, and slipped her hands inside, her fingers like brands of fire across his skin. One minute she was straddling him, the next minute he’d fallen on top of her. It was like a dam had burst within them both, releasing a flood tide of desire and urgency. And God help him, he would have taken her right there on the ground with a stampede winding down a hundred yards behind him.

For a long moment they gazed at each other, and Freddy felt her mouth go dry and her heartbeat accelerate. If the evening ended right now, she would still remember this moment for all her days. The music, the perfume of the flower baskets, and the hard look of desire in Dal’s eyes.

“Dal … Dal …” Mindlessly, she whispered his name as his kisses deepened and became possessive and deliberate. But slow. Exploring. Teasing. Never quite enough. Kisses that drank desire from her mouth and left her frantic with wanting, wanting, wanting.

Winding her arms close around his neck, she closed her eyes. To be embraced, safe in a man’s arms when she had never expected it to happen again, this would be enough.
Time sheltered their embrace, enfolding them within a summer scented capsule that felt endless and theirs alone. The fragrance of grass and sunlight and nearby water sweetened each breath. Theirs was the music of birds ans the lazy buzz of insects and the beating of two hearts. Yes, she thought, she didn’t need more. This would be enough.

This time his kiss was full and provocative, summoning sensations she had believed, had hop, were submerged too deeply to be awakened. But his fingers on her face, his mouth, his lips, stirred slumbering emotions and coaxed them to life. His hands moved to cup her head, to spread across her spine, and he crushed her against him as their kisses deepened.

He molded her body to his and another gasp tore at her throat. She had never expected to be held in a man’s arms again. Hadn’t dared to hope that she would ever stand chest to chest, hip to hip with a man who desired her. She had truly believed lovemaking was a pleasure she would never again experience in her lifetime. That was her choice and destiny.
His hands moved from her waist to her face, and he kissed the tears shining on her cheeks and eyelids. “I love you,” he whispered. “I have loved you from the moment I saw you.”

“You are so beautiful,” he breathed. Standing over her, rampant in the moonlight, he gazed down at her body. “You are as lovely and as perfect as I imagined you would be.”
Afraid to believe, afraid to trust, she dared a look at him and felt her heart wrench when she read his expression and understood that she truly was whole and beautiful in his eyes. She was a magnificent to him as he was to her.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Abe Books

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Run from Fear by Jami Alden

Format: E-bookrunfromfear
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Trilogy, Book 3
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Jack Brooks
Heroine: Talia Vega 
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: March 1, 2012
Started On: February 25, 2012
Finished On: February 28, 2012

Run from Fear by Jami Alden is the much coveted 3rd book in the untitled trilogy that showcases Jami’s remarkable ability in delivering romantic suspense the way we readers crave them. Anyone who has read the 1st book in the series entitled Beg for Mercy would have encountered the larger than life Jack Brooks and definitely craved to learn more about the man behind the intimidating figure. I belong in the said group and when I saw this title up for grabs at Netgalley, I quickly seized my chance get my hands on a copy. Though I was disappointed in the book when compared to the previous 2 books in the series, Jami Alden still manages to deliver a decent romantic suspense that makes for a none too shabby a read.

Talia Vega is slowly making a life for herself in an affluent corner of California, having survived one of the most horrific incidents a woman can ever go through. Two years of her life spent in hiding with her younger sister Rosario in tow means that Talia appreciates the freedom that life has offered her with the death of the man who had made her a slave of his in every way. Talia’s regrets in life are many, and the way she looks at herself and comes up lacking is one of the many scars left behind with many more, some of them even physical in nature. Talia’s only aim is to give her sister everything she has got to give and though she feels those tendrils of unease coursing through her every now and then, she lets them slide through never knowing that her days of enjoying peace, serenity and order in her life are quite numbered.

Jack Brooks is ex-military and works in the security business. From the moment Jack had encountered the sexy siren version of Talia, Jack had been a goner. And watching Talia pick up the pieces of her tattered life and come out fighting the demons that must haunt her just makes Jack feel emotions of a stronger nature towards a woman who already has him on a dangerous edge. Jack stays on the sidelines, never letting Talia know just how much he is affected by her, and only re-enters her life 2 years later in order to severe the ties that binds him to her, or so he tells himself.

But so it happens, danger is never too far from Talia and Rosario and once again Talia is the focus of a stalker who would stop at nothing to complete a legacy that he claims to be rightfully his. Jack once he learns of the danger is as unmovable as a ton of steel and whether Talia wants it or not, Jack is around to stay until he can once again breathe easy, knowing that Talia and Rosario would remain safe from the clutches of mad men.

As always, Jami Alden does a superb job out of creating a villain, whose vicious thoughts alone is enough to give a person the shivers of the bad variety. But knowing who the villain was right from the very start somehow stole all the glory from the suspense aspect of the story, though the nature of the villain’s fascination with Talia and how he goes about securing access to Talia is one that was splendid.

Talia was a tough nut to crack. Though she is beautiful, smart and independent, she has a lot of self esteem issues, understandable when throughout her life men had deceived and made use of her. Talia is not ready for a relationship, especially not with someone like Jack who makes her feel uncomfortable and tingly all over, all at the same time. Talia is cautious with whom she gives her trust, and comes across as a bitch sometimes and makes life pretty much miserable for Jack who adores the very path that she walks on. And maybe it was because of that reason that I couldn’t like Talia much though she makes for a strong heroine in most of the ways.

Now, Jack Brooks is the type of hero that I salivate over all the time. I like larger than life heroes and Jack is one of them whose sheer size is in direct contrast with his gentle nature. He has “knight in shining armor” syndrome, something that had been triggered due to the abuse he had witnessed and gone through as a child. And when it comes to Talia, Jack’s over protectiveness is something to behold, his utter lack of control around Talia something to be savored. His gentleness around Talia who is skittish as a newborn colt when it comes to expressing sexual desire was one of the best aspects of his character. I totally fell for him because Jack is a man who is willing to do anything, and I mean literally anything to be with the woman he loves, to protect and cosset her and give her the life that he feels she deserves. 

So, even though certain elements within the story didn’t work that well for me, Run from Fear still made for a great read, Jack Brooks’ character the reason I am bumping the rating from the “good read” range to the “great read” range. 

Recommended for fans of the series and fans of Jami Alden. Jami certainly knows how to deliver on heroes that would appeal to the female readers and Jack Brooks is no exception.

Favorite Quotes

[Jack] “Don’t kid yourself for a fucking second that I don’t feel anything for you.”
Her lips parted in shock, but before she could get a word out, he covered them with his own. She made a high, startled sound in the back of her throat.
Pleasure, red, blinding, exploded through him at the first taste. Sweet, spicy, better than all his fevered imaginings. Her lips soft and giving against him, her tongue delicious and moist as he sucked it into his mouth.

She couldn’t deny him anything. She reached behind her and unhooked the bra, leaving breasts completely bare to his stroking hands.
Her mouth sought his, licking, sucking, leaning into his touch as she tried to tell him without words how much she wanted him, needed him. How desperate she was for his touch, how she’d needed him, needed this, all along and hadn’t even realized it.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | BoB | Book Depository

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Deadly Heat by Cynthia Eden

Format: E-book & Paperbackdeadlyheat
Read with: iBooks for iPad & Paperback
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: Deadly, Book 2
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Kenton Lake
Heroine: Lora Spade
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: February 1, 2011
Started On: December 26, 2011
Finished On: December 29, 2011

I have come to identify with the fact that Cynthia Eden writes romances of the no holds barred kind which I just absolutely love. My first taste of Cynthia Eden came with book 1 in the Deadly series which just rocked my world in all the ways that counts. Deadly Heat turned out to be just as intense, maybe more so with the heat literally and figuratively on from both the romance and suspense side of the story.

Kenton Lake, Special Agent from the FBI’s Serial Services Division (SSD) makes his way to Charlottesville where a serial arsonist is at work. From the first page itself, Cynthia lets the reader in on the mind of a vicious killer who starts out young, who has the ability to creep you out enough that you are practically sniffing around you just in case he turns up with a can of gasoline right next to you.

When Kenton collides with the fiery firefighter Lora Spade who just vibrates with an aura of energy that crackles whenever she is around, Kenton is as helplessly drawn towards her as she is to him. Lora who lost the one man she loved, the man who had been her best friend to the arsonist would love nothing more than to bring the villain to justice, which is the only reason why she agrees to help the sexier than sin agent from FBI; or so she tells herself.

From the first kiss itself that just heats up the pages, Kenton and Lora’s relationship and courting is an intense one, one that burns hotter and faster with each encounter. Lora might tell herself that sex is the only thing between herself and Kenton but deep in her heart she knows that the desire that burns between them is not just simply that but so very much more.

With the arsonist always one step ahead, taunting them with his ability to take lives and bring those whom he sees fit to “justice”, Cynthia Eden definitely delivers a punch with Deadly Heat, a book that is edgy, dark and scorching hot in all the ways that matter!

Recommended for fans of the series, fans of romantic suspense with a darker edge and of course fans of Cynthia Eden.

Favorite Quotes

“I’ve been dying to know,” he said again, “how you taste.”
Oh, hell. Her right hand grabbed the back of his head, and she yanked him down toward her.
Their mouths met. Open. Ready. Lips kissed. Tongues licked. And—damn!
Yes, she wanted.
The control she’d held so tightly began to crack. She jerked in her seat, struggling to press against him. He took her mouth. Tasted her. Tormented her. And she met him. No, she fought him, fought him for more.

The light from the hallway spilled inside her bedroom. She’d barely stepped over the threshold when he caught her. Kenton spun her around and yanked her up in his arms. Two steps, and they were on the bed. Crashing down. Falling hard into the soft mattress.
He caged her arms over her head, holding them with one hand even as he took her mouth.
That other hand—yes!—drifted down her stomach and pushed between her legs. He’d find her wet, she knew it. One kiss, and she’d been wet for him. Creamy, hot. Ready.

His fingers snaked between them and found her clit. His thumb pushed against her even as his cock shoved inside in a thrust that had her gasping.
“Come for me.” His whisper.
Her eyes opened. When had she closed them? Lora met his stare. “Make me.” A taunt. One she’d never given a man before. What the hell was her problem? What was she—
He pulled on her clit. Thumb and forefinger, tugging, then pressing, pushing down with just the right force as his cock thrust into her, again and again.
His hips bucked. Then his eyes went wild, and he came.
So did she. 

Then his hands were around her waist as he lifted her up. The muscles in his arms flexed as he held her.
Wow, didn’t realize the man was so strong, didn’t know—
She licked his throat.
Screw it.
Lora wrapped her legs around his waist. His cock pushed against her, pressing right at the wet entrance to her sex.
She arched toward him just as Kenton slammed deep.
So deep.
She bit her lip to hold back the scream.
Skin to skin. Hot. Slick. So full.

Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes&Noble | BooksOnBoard | Diesel Ebooks

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Hide from Evil by Jami Alden

Format: E-bookhidefromevil
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: Trilogy, Book 2
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Sean Flynn
Heroine: Krista Slater
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: November 1, 2011
Started On: October 30, 2011
Finished On: October 30, 2011

Hide from Evil is the second book in an untitled trilogy by Jami Alden, the first book of which skyrocketed its way towards my favorites book shelf earlier this year. If you are tempted to pick this one up, not that you can’t read this as a standalone, but in my opinion you definitely need to read book 1 first to experience the full impact of the story as it unfolds and for you to be invested in the characters and the outcome of their happily ever after as much as I have been ever since finding out about the expected release date of this book.

Deputy Prosecuting Attorney Krista Slater is a woman on a mission. Krista who has a vision of her working her way towards the top of the Prosecutor’s Office, always sticking to the rules and never straying from them finds herself wallowing in a conflicting mass of guilt and regret when she finds out that she has wrongly prosecuted and sent an innocent man to the death row. It had only been the tenacious work of Sean Flynn’s sister Megan who had refused to give up on her brother against all odds that had brought to light the actual killer who had neatly tricked everyone into believing that Sean had been the Seattle Slasher.

Refusing to put the case to rest though Sean has walked away a free man, something about the case and its loose ends pricks and prods at Krista until she uses her own resources to find out whether there could be more to the Seattle Slasher case than everyone had originally thought. Her digging opens up a can of worms that she never comprehends, putting her and Sean in the path of a powerful family who would do anything and everything in their power to keep the secrets that they hide from ever seeing the light of day.

The last thing Sean expects is for Krista to turn up out of the blue and make him confront all those feelings that he has bottled up inside, having numbed himself for the past three years of his life because remembering the past just causes him nothing but endless grief, rage and pain. But Sean’s dormant libido seems to have its own agenda when it comes to the classically beautiful and reserved Krista, behind whose propriety lies a wicked sense of humor that cracks through his numbness right from the very start.

Though Krista knows that she shouldn’t let her wayward hormones rule when it comes to Sean, she can’t help but be drawn towards the man buried deep inside the mass of seething resentment that she had previously seen and brushed aside as the egoistic mannerisms of a psychotic killer. But as passion bursts forth and refuses to be denied in its quest to be fulfilled, neither Sean nor Krista is powerful enough to deny each other the need that they have for the other.

As a nationwide manhunt ensues for both Sean and Krista with no way of finding out whom they can trust, the harder they dig their quest leads them to places neither expected, forcing both Sean and Krista to face their changing feelings towards each other as the clock ticks towards the hour of reckoning.

Hide from Evil though a bit toned down in the darker aspects that we come across in Beg for Mercy is still a book of the unputdownable variety. Sean Flynn was everything that I had imagined him to be in my mind and I damn near swallowed my tongue from salivating over his tortured hotness that just about seeps through the words each and every single time he comes into the picture. His desire for Krista that spills over the tight control he holds over all his emotions was one of the best aspects of the story, his resentment towards the woman who helped put him behind bars no match for the red haze of lust and need that nearly blindsides him with its ferocity.

Krista is a heroine basically carved out for my favorite heroines shelf. She is beautiful & smart with a heart of gold, a woman who has the best of intentions at heart and whose truthful nature forces her to face the one mistake she has made in her career and put it to rights. It was the way she seemed to understand Sean, the fears that he battles with each and everyday of his life since he walked out of prison and the way that she wants him with that a no holds barred passion that makes her the type of heroine that I just adore.

Once again, I loved how Jami seems to know just in which direction to steer the story forward, when to bring in the action and when to bring in those intricate details about the past events that teases the memory to recall what happened in book 1 of the trilogy. The scenes of passion between Sean and Krista are of the scorching hot variety, not overly erotic but with just enough action to really make one heat up as you read along. Paving the way for book 3, Run from Fear which is to come out early next year starring the sexy ex-Green Beret Jack Brooks that I just know is going to invade my heart as soon as I get my hands on the story, though Beg for Mercy proved to be a tough act to follow, Jami Alden comes darn close in delivering what the reader expects from her in this second installment.

A taut, gripping novel of suspense with underlying sexual tension hot enough to keep the adrenaline pumping; Hide from Evil is another superb installment in Jami Alden’s unbeatable trilogy of dark romantic suspense!

Favorite Quotes

(Sean) “The therapist calls it cleithrophobia.”
“That sounds like a fear of something else,” Krista snorted before she could stop herself. She bit her lip, as shame washed through her.
Sean turned, his startled laughter sounding rusty as it erupted from his chest. “No, I’m definitely not scared of that.”

Like punch through the brick wall he’d built around himself and give in to the sudden, desperate urges to touch, to taste, to feel. Krista Fucking Slater. Of all the women in the world, why was she the only one who managed to remind him he was still alive in a way no one had been able to in three long years?

“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” he murmured and she felt the warmth of his breath on her face and yes, he was going to kiss her. His mouth came down on hers, hot and fierce. She parted her lips and licked into his mouth, loving the way he shuddered and groaned at the contact.
Her response was fast, ferocious, startling in its intensity. One kiss and she was fired up, more turned on than she could ever remember being.

(Sean) “Sometimes the system fails. And sometimes you have to break the rules to get what you want.”

“I wish I could tell you this was all just because I’m desperate and horny, making up for lost time after being locked up.” He slid his palm under the hem of her T-shirt, groaning at the feel of warm, smooth skin. “It would be so much easier if that was all this was.” He cupped a breast and flicked a nipple through the silk of her bra, loving the way it jumped to immediate attention against the pad of his thumb.
“There hasn’t been anyone,” he said between kisses. “I haven’t wanted anyone. I’ve been walking around like I’m dead inside and then you show up.” He couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice, angry at his own lack of control. Like she needed anything more on him, but he couldn’t keep himself from spilling his guts. “All of a sudden all I can think about is how you smell, how you might taste.” He sucked her tongue into his mouth for emphasis. “How soft your skin would feel.” He whipped her shirt over her head and slid his hands down the smooth line of her back, down the curve of her waist and hip.

He smelled like sweat and sex and Sean, a potent combination that made her want to hold him here inside her and never let him go.