Category / Review

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Shield of Winter by Nalini Singh

Format: E-bookshieldofwinter
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Series: Psy-Changeling, #13
Publisher: Berkley
Hero: Vasic Duvnjak
Heroine: Ivy Jane
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: June 3, 2014
Started On: May 21, 2015
Finished On: June 06, 2015

Shield of Winter is the 13th book in the Psy-Changeling series. The book that comes after the most explosive title in the series, Heart of Obsidian. Shield of Winter tells the story of one of the most enigmatic characters of the elite group of soldiers of the Psy race, the ones that carry out the covert operations as required.

Vasic Duvnkak is an assassin, a soldier and an Arrow. With the volatile changes that had been happening to the three races living on Earth, the Psy world as Vasic has known it is rapidly changing, bringing along with it regrets of the kind written in blood, a conscience mired by a past that cannot be changed. Vasic is drifting further and further away from the roots that had kept him grounded, and until the inevitable end of his life, Vasic is willing to do whatever it takes to continue protecting his race, albeit minus the allegiance to the corrupt elite.

Ivy Jane is an empath, empaths being the Psy that had been brutally and viciously hunted down when the Psy world was initially established. Ivy becomes part of the group that is rounded up by Kaleb Krychek in order to save the Psy from an illness that has been ravaging the minds of Psy, rendering them mad beyond help. Ivy is helpless in the face of the sickness that seems to be accelerating its way through the NetMind, the bio feedback mechanism that is crucial for the Psy to survive.

Ivy and Vasic are both newbies to the world of sensation that had been forbidden for the Psy for so long. Vasic more so than Ivy because of the conditioning, training and torture that he had been subjected to when he had first been entered into the training academy for the Arrows. When Vasic chooses Ivy as the empath that he would protect till the mission ends, Vasic finds in Ivy, for the very first time in his life, a woman who makes him want. Want something more.

The journey of discovery that these two embark upon is a beautifully sensuous one, one that only an author of Nalini Singh’s caliber can deliver. The bloody turn that Psy’s world takes doesn’t detract from the connection that springs forth between Vasic and Ivy, a love that is beautiful in the way it develops.

Though Shield of Winter doesn’t obviously live up to the splendor that is Heart of Obsidian, it nevertheless gives fans of the series a read worth sinking their teeth into. Vasic is the type of hero that we all would love to cuddle, pet and call our own. Not because he’s the cuddly, warm and fuzzy type. But because he is just the opposite. Reserved, a touch cold and aloof, Vasic is the type of hero that makes women want to claim them as their own. Vasic is downright delicious. Though a virgin, Vasic’s focus on “matters” at hand makes everything doubly more so sensual!

Ivy is just the sort of woman that a man like Vasic needs. A man on the brink of crossing over, not caring much about how or when his end arrives. But in Ivy, Vasic finds the sort of strength he never thought he was capable of, the strength and will to focus on living than the inevitable end of the cycle of life. Vasic’s back story is one that would make even the hardest of hearts thaw. Ivy’s equally horrific, but made a trifle bit better owing to protective parents. Beyond the romance, there is of course always the fascinating world that Nalini has created with this series, that in itself a reason enough  to get lost in these books!

Recommended for fans of the Psy-Changeling series. Nalini writes beautifully. That is one reason why these books are not to missed out on!

Final Verdict: In the fall of Silence, nothing will ever be the same ever again. Great storytelling, as always!

Favorite Quotes

Ivy bit down on her lower lip, released the swollen flesh . . . and tugged the top off over her head. Raising one hand to pull back strands of her hair that had curled over her face, she didn’t attempt to hide herself from him, the plump mounds of her breasts cupped by a confection of ivory satin and lace. “That’s not Psy issue,” he said, fighting every single cell in his body not to push the delicate fabric aside and look his fill.
Ivy’s own breathing was unsteady, her breasts rising and falling as if in invitation. “No,” she admitted in a husky tone. “I’ve always liked certain textures against my skin.” Raising one hand, she pushed off a strap.”

Ivy’s breath was a sob. “Don’t ever give up.” Using her free hand to cup the hand he had around her wrist, she bent her head to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Promise me.”
His entire body in shock at the sweet, hot caress, he nodded. For her, he’d conquer even the dark numbness that had been eating him alive for years. “I promise.” He touched her hair. “Ivy, I was trying to protect you.” He’d never intended this bond to form, never intended to cause her pain. “From the terrible things I’ve done, the destructive choices I’ve made, the broken mess inside me.”
Ivy shook her head, her expression haunted. “It was too late the first day we met. You’re inside me, and I’m inside you. It’s done.”

He squeezed her nape. “Kiss me,” he repeated.
Ivy licked her lips, slid her hands up to his shoulders, and confessed. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Neither do I,” he responded, the glittering silver of his eyes on her mouth. “Arrows learn by repetition and practice until the basic skill is honed, at which point we begin to specialize.”
The words should’ve been dry, but they made her breasts swell, her nipples so plump and tight the lace of her bra became abrasive. Because he was talking about repetition and practice when it came to intimate contact. Kissing. Touching. Sex. Her lips parted and he lowered his head.
“Do it again, Ivy,” he murmured, his breath mingling with her own. “Repetition—”
“And practice,” she completed, and brushed her lips over his.

When Vasic broke contact, his forehead pressed against hers and his breath jagged, she caressed his cheek, kissed the clean-shaven smoothness of his jaw. Never had she felt so alive, so pleasured. But below that was a sexual hunger brutal in its ferocity, hard and dark . . . and then she knew. It wasn’t her desire she was sensing. It was his.
Body melting even further, she kissed his jaw again. “I’m picking up your desire. Do you mind?”
“No.” He kissed her again on the heels of that statement, one hand on her lower back, the other on the side of her neck.
Then he licked his tongue against hers.
Her brain exploded.

“Vasic.” Soft breath, Ivy’s lips on his throat.
Fingers tightening into fists, he stood in place, his head bowed slightly and his arms trapping her. Instead of fighting to escape, she kissed his throat again, licked out with her tongue to taste him. It made every muscle in his body go tight, the tattered vestiges of the psychological brainwashing he’d survived attempting to overlay the pleasure with pain, but he didn’t move.
“Vasic,” she whispered again, her kiss damp this time, the sensation going straight to his rock-hard erection. “My Vasic.”

Turning toward her, he braced himself with his palms on either side of her head, his bare skin inches from her, the heat of him smashing against her hungry skin. And his fury . . . that was a stunning thing, the storm in his eyes molten silver.
“I can’t give you what you want.” It came out ice-cold, but those eyes, those eyes . . . “I thought—” He shook his head. “You can’t change the core of a man, Ivy. You can’t take a man christened in blood and make him into something better.”
Ivy narrowed her eyes, furious at the way he continued to see himself. “I don’t want you to change. Haven’t I made that clear?” Rising on tiptoe, she fisted her hands in his hair. “I want you. All of you. Even the part that infuriates me.”

Chest heaving, Ivy stared at him, the suspicion on her face making something twist deep inside him, the strange emotion at once gentle and fierce. “Wait for me in your bedroom,” he said, taking what he needed because Ivy had said he could have it. Have her.
Ivy had fought for his right to have her.
She never denied him, never punished him by withholding the touch he craved—her touch—and he planned to take terrible advantage. Now and always. “I need to make sure everything is secure before I join you.” The mattress on his bed was hard, would discomfort her. “I want you under me, naked and aroused and mine.”

A lazy, affectionate smile that caught at his heart and refused to let go. “I flaked, huh?”
“You needed rest,” Vasic answered. And then he kissed her.
Ivy responded with the lush generosity that had already made him an addict. Sliding her arms around his neck and bending one leg at the knee to cradle him between her thighs, she surrendered her mouth to his desires. And he took, devoured. He hadn’t understood how starved he was of touch until he met Ivy. Now, she was the only one who could ease the piercing ache of his need.

His fingers curled around her nape. Are you going to be mad at me for this our entire life?
She nodded. You should’ve waited for me.
I never dared dream of you, Ivy. I never thought a man like me deserved such a gift.
Petting his chest, she said, You’re my gift, too, you know. I’m so glad for you every instant of every day. Even when I’m really, really angry with you.

“I need to ask you some highly personal questions.”
Judd reached down to pack the snow into a ball. “I’ve been hoping for a long time that someone else in the squad would get to the point where a discussion like this would be necessary.” Rising, he threw the snowball with a fast arm. “Ask.”
“How do you control your telekinesis while intimate with your mate?”
“I broke a damn lot of furniture at the start, including two beds.” A curious glance. “What are you doing?”
“Traveling around the world.”

“This will likely hurt.” He didn’t like the idea, but it was a biological fact they couldn’t escape.
Ivy wrapped her legs around his hips. “Love me, let me love you.”
He gritted his teeth, guided himself to her, and began to push. She was slick and hot and so tightly stretched around him that he felt he’d rip her open. “Ivy.”
Clutching at his shoulders, she gasped, “So . . . you’re built in proportion, then.”
The unexpected words gave him the breathing room he needed. Kissing her on that sweet, soft, generous mouth, he said, “Unfortunately.”
A sensually feminine smile. “I have a feeling that won’t be the correct description once we begin to do this on a regular basis.”

“Leaving them tangled around her thighs, he squeezed one cheek with a blatantly possessive touch, then dipped his hand between her legs. “You’re liquid.” Crushed rocks and sexual heat, that was his voice.
Ivy’s answer required no thought. “Because it’s you.”
Movement behind her, the back of his hand brushing her buttocks. The sound of a zipper. Fabric being pushed down. And then he was gripping her hips to tilt her farther forward as he pushed into her with relentless focus. Making incoherent sounds of need, she was hardly aware of the world altering between sand and the wall and back over and over. Every cell in her body was focused on Vasic, on feeling the thick intrusion of him stretching her flesh.
This position permitted nothing else.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Need Me by Tessa Bailey

Format: E-bookneedmetb
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Broke and Beautiful, #2
Publisher: Avon Impulse
Hero: Ben Dawson
Heroine: Honey Perribow
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: April 21, 2015
Started On: April 24, 2015
Finished On: May 10, 2015

From the deliciousness of the cover to what’s inside, Tessa Bailey seems to have outdone herself with the second book in the Broke and Beautiful series that wooed me in more ways than I can count. Tessa Bailey is a master, no a goddess, when it comes to delivering dirty of the good kind. As a reader who always loves a good bout of scorching steam in her romances, Tessa is a godsend from whom I dearly ask never ever to change in the delectable heroes and stories that she continues to deliver.

Having not read book one in the series, I can assure you with 100% certainty that you would be able to carry off with reading Need Me as a standalone. Tessa has managed to do a marvelous job with a trope that can be tricky to pull off, i.e. romance between a professor and his student.

Before you go on building your own assumptions about Professor Ben Dawson who teaches Introduction to Literary Theory, let me do my civic duty and inform you that Ben is worth your time in gold! And yes, I mean it. A man whose words alone seduced me from the beginning, whose control over his baser emotions was a thing of wonder to see break into such absolute mess of a pieces was just exhilarating to watch. I might be a bit too enthusiastic about that fact but lets face it, we all love a hero whose control breaks under the right circumstances and boy, does Tessa deliver a healthy dose of just that!

Honey Parribow, from the small town of Bloomfield, Kentucky has dreams of her own which is why she moves to the big city to make it a reality. Though she misses her home and family overly much, the essence of her being which yearns for things that her hometown would not be able to provide for her makes her stick it out. Not to mention her ‘unhealthy’ obsession with her lit professor Ben makes it all worthwhile.

When a culmination of events brings Ben to his knees and convinces Honey of all that she had firmly believed to be true about her “crush” on the professor, things take a turn that neither of them expects to. Ben finds himself in waters that he has steered clear of all his life. To make the same mistakes that his father had made, to ruin a life that he had built for himself with rigid control, rules and structure that seems to tumble down in the face of all that is Honey Parribow.

With plenty of angst to match and oh god, hot sex of the panty scorching variety included, Tessa takes the reader on a veritable feast for the senses that I just could not get enough of. If you are fan of Tessa, I don’t think you would need any further encouragement from me to take the tumble. If not and you have a thing for tropes like professor/student themes that deliver dirty talking heroes that would want to make you throw yourself at him, then I assure you that you’ve chosen right. Trust me on that.

There were so many aspects that I loved about the story. The emotional roller coaster ride this story took me on is one that is unforgettable. I was driven to laughter, tears & moments of sheer angst that felt so good that I didn’t want any of it to end. Few authors can make a reader feel right from the very beginning of a story till its end. Tessa Bailey is one who can, and does deliver, every single time. Need Me definitely is a story to be reckoned with and I think I’ll forever remember Professor Ben Dawson with a goofy smile and naughty glint in my eyes because every inch of his delicious self demands nothing less.

Ben Dawson is hands down the reason I fell for this story, hook, line and sinker. From the moment his uber controlled self strode into the story with his rules about keeping his personal & private lives separate, I knew that he’d cause me palpitations of the good kind. And oh boy, did he deliver! He delivered all that and so much more that I went into this state where I wished for a professor of my own just like Ben Dawson. But I have a feeling that the world cannot handle more than one of his kind; demanding in bed, a bit of a brood and of course towards the end sweet of the kind that is just potent! Sigh! I guess I can go on waxing poetry over Ben Dawson and even that wouldn’t be enough!

Tessa Bailey knows how to deliver characters that speaks to your heart. She’s yet to disappoint me in that aspect and I loved Honey Parribow to bits and then some. She was the perfect balance of wholesomeness, sexy and all things woman enough to drive the very stoic professor out of his ever loving mind. Loved Honey’s courage, what drives her to pursue her dreams & of course the way she is able to so effortlessly drive the professor to profess all sorts of dirty deeds that he wants to do to her and with her. Oh boy!

Only thing that I wanted more was a bit more of Honey and Ben towards the ending. After such a painful angst ridden of a “separation”, my heart needed the healing and I guess I acutely missed that & felt that the ending was a trifle bit rushed. In all other aspects, Need Me was perfect and I wouldn’t change it any other way.

I cannot end the review without sharing some of the notes that I made along the way while I was reading, which I think would convey more of what I was feeling than a lengthy review would! And forgive me. I went sort of crazy with the quotes. But I tell you, it was ALL worth it!

My God, Tessa Bailey, where on earth did you dream up Ben from!!!

Sigh! What’s with Tessa and the way she makes her men strut around that makes ME want to say, hell yes please, take me now!!!

Tessa Bailey! Oh the things you do to a woman!!!!

Holy shit Tessa!!

Final Verdict: You’re going to fall in love. In love with every single inch that’s Professor Ben Dawson.

Favorite Quotes

She took a deep breath and eased closer to him. The door rattled, telling her he’d backed up and hit it. Good. He couldn’t go any further. She placed her palms on his chest and felt him shudder. Heard him curse in an almost desperate manner. Memorizing every inch of terrain encountered by her hands, she smoothed them higher, over his shoulders, before dragging her fingertips back down the way she’d come. When they reached his hard abdomen, Ben heaved an exhale and tunneled his hands into her hair. It was so sudden and so fierce that Honey’s knees almost gave out.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Touching you. Feeling what you look like.”

“Fuck. I’ve been so hard all day, babe.”
She felt dazed at hearing her straightlaced professor curse. Admit to a weakness. “Why?”
“So many reasons.” His laughter sounded pained, turning into a hiss of breath as she began to stroke him through his pants. “But it feels like it was all for you. I don’t know how to explain that.”
The beating in her chest expanded, reaching her throat. Her limbs felt heavy but pliant at the same time. Coupled with the darkness, the anonymity, his words emboldened her. I’ve been so hard all day, babe. It feels like it was all for you. She went up on her toes and laid her mouth on his ear. “I’ve been soft for you all day, so I guess we’re even.”

“Did you think of me when you put those good girl panties on this morning?” He coasted his hands up the tops of her spread legs, letting his thumbs drag up the sensitive insides of her thighs, taking her skirt higher as he went. “Did you think they’d make my dick hard if I got a peek at them?”
“Yes.” The answer burst out of her in a desperate whisper, as if she’d been holding it in. “I thought of you when I chose them.”

Ben sounded out of breath when he rounded the doorway into the classroom. He stood outlined by the frame for a moment, looking her over from head to toe. Burning her. God, he looked amazing. If possible, his stubble had grown more pronounced during the reading, hair standing out at every direction. Honey trapped a gasp in her throat when he slammed the door behind him and came toward her, moving so fast her heart shot to her throat. His long legs ate up the distance. The weight of his determined gaze had her gripping the large metal desk behind her for balance.

He hauled her body up against his, bending her backwards over his forearm and yanking her back up, as if he couldn’t decide how he wanted her. How to get close enough. His fingertips traced the hem of her dress before slipping beneath to skim up the inside of her thigh. When his warm hand molded to the flesh between her legs and squeezed, Honey broke away with a moan.
“Does it still hurt?” He grated the question at her lips. “Tell me it still hurts so I can lick it better.”
A sharp exhale burst from her mouth. “It still hurts.”

“Do you know what I thought about during the reading, Honey?”
“What?”
Her head fell to the side, giving him room to suck and lick at her neck. “I thought that if we were sitting in the back row, I would have made you sit on my lap. With my dick inside you.” He drove into her tightness, again and again. So wet. So damn wet. Fuck yes. The rhythm was perfect. Steady enough to give her time to come, fast enough to satisfy this urgency she made him feel. “No one would know except us. Unless you moved, even just once. Because then you’d have to keep moving. We’d need it. And we’d have to fuck right there in front of everyone.”

Her lips curved into an even wider smile. “Where I come from, a good story is a gift.”
“You must be buried in gifts, then.”
She looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
Feeling a little uncomfortable, he tried to sit up straighter, but she shook her head and he stilled. “Your papers.” He cleared his throat, and it echoed in the empty classroom. “I’ve read the classics ten times over, I’ve studied and written enough words to drown us both, but I bet I’ve never held anyone’s attention the way your papers hold mine.”

“Come on, babe. I’m right behind you.”
“Ben.”
Sweet fucking hell.
No one came like Honey. She bent forward with her hands braced on the wall, practically giving him a vertical lap dance as her body trembled. Legs spread, hips grinding on his hard dick while she moaned his name. As if she needed to feel every damn part of what their bodies had produced. He’d never get over seeing it. Especially not at that moment, when release clamored in his stomach, successfully finding an outlet right between her gorgeous thighs.

Roxy pulled her knees up to her chest. “So, Professor Ben, huh? Please tell me he slapped your ass with a yardstick.”
“Well it wasn’t a full yard . . .” Honey coughed into her fist. “But it was impressive. It reminded me of that scene in A Few Good Men where Jack Nicholson yells, ‘You can’t handle the truth’ at Tom Cruise. Except Ben was Jack Nicholson and my vagina was Tom Cruise.”

Honey tried not to be miffed that he didn’t appear bothered by the lack of nookie on the table. It made her wonder if he had a plan cooking behind those scholarly looking glasses. “Who was Elmer to you, Honey? Please note that I’m speaking in the past tense.”
“My high school sweetheart.” She pursed her lips. “You jealous of ol’ Elmer, Ben?”
“ ‘Jealous’ is too common a word. His existence is a threat to my sanity.”

He pressed their foreheads together and looked her in the eye. “Listen to me.” He waited for her nod. “You’re going to take me somewhere now where I can see you without your panties on. I’m going to get you off good and hard, maybe a few times. And then, Honey, we’re going to talk.” He bucked his hips into her twice. “But first, I’m going to fuck you so dirty, you won’t be able to look anyone but me in the eye afterward. Have you heard everything I’ve said?”
He removed his hand so she could answer. “Yes. Okay, Ben.”
“Good. I’ll be at the truck.” He stepped back, letting her slide down the wall. “Tell them whatever gets us out of here.”

When her palm brushed over his erection, his head fell back and hit the car on a groan. As she unzipped his pants, she leaned in and licked the column of his neck. “Whenever I fantasized about you during class, I pictured you wearing a tie when I did this.”
“Did what?”
Honey gave him a sly smile in response. Having succeeded in undoing his pants, she slipped her hand into his boxer briefs and stroked his heavy arousal. “You asked me earlier about my favorite position.”
“Tell me,” he panted. “Say it.”
She placed her mouth over his ear. “On my knees.”

He ceased his torture of her breasts to lift his head. “You want me to finger bang you, Honey?”
“Yes. Yes.”
His eyes locked on hers as he drove two fingers inside her. Oh God. She was going to come. Going to come. But she couldn’t, because his touch didn’t move, granted her no friction. Her hips lifted and fell in a plea, but he didn’t grant her request, choosing instead to study the movements of her body like one eyed a juicy steak. “If you move like that when I’m inside you, babe, I will fuck you all the harder.”

“I’m the only one who belongs inside you,” he growled. “Show me why, babe.”
She tightened her thighs around him and ground herself down as the climax shook through her. Her scream was swallowed by his hungry mouth as it claimed her, tongue pushing her lips wide to tangle with hers. His big body, plastered so tightly against her, began to shudder. He ripped his mouth away with a shouted expletive, eyes squeezed closed as his release took him.

Her heels dug into the small of his back. “One thing you do, though, is by far the hottest.”
“Tell me. Tell me now. I’ll never stop doing it.”
Honey’s lips twitched. “When you talk to me in that professor voice.” Her eyelids fluttered, as if just saying it out loud was enough to get her going. Sweet hell. This girl. “You do it all the time, you know. Out of nowhere, your tone changes, and it . . .”
“What?”
“It makes me so wet,” she murmured, hitting him with the full impact of those big eyes. “For you.”

Ben kept her pinned with his body, continuing to speak in the voice he usually reserved for lectures. “That’s a good girl, Ms. Perribow.” He rotated his hips, grinding the base of his cock against her clit. “Now take down your panties and bend over my desk. Stay that way until I’ve dismissed you. Not a moment sooner.”
Honey cried out, her body going bow tight beneath him before it started to shake. Ben watched her with nothing short of awe. Unbelievable. He’d actually made her come just by talking to her. He liked the power of that. A lot. Maybe too much, because his body was now thrumming with the relentless need to be inside her. Now.

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

amazingread

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Staking His Claim by Tessa Bailey

Format: E-bookstakinghisclaim
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance
Series: Line of Duty, #5
Publisher: Entangled: Brazen
Hero: Matt Donovan
Heroine: Lucy Mason
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: February 3, 2014
Started On: April 10, 2015
Finished On: April 13, 2015

Tessa Bailey has earned herself the title of being an author who delivers stories that feature commanding heroes who talk dirty unlike any other. If I want a romance that would scorch my e-reader and then some, I look no further than Tessa Bailey, because she has become an author synonymous with that of intensely sexual books that deliver that emotional punch together with it, which is a lethal combination for any romance lover like myself.

Staking His Claim is the fifth book in the Line of Duty series and features Matt Donovan, ex-military and now a cop, whose commanding entry into the novel itself sent my senses haywire. With darker appetites than your average alpha hero, Matt hides his true self from the rest of the world due to the scars his previous relationship has left on him.

Lucy Mason has just finished her Masters Degree and isn’t so looking forward to the downtime that had been planned with her best friend Sasha, when she cancels last minute on her. When Matt turns up to offer Lucy the ride that her brother had promised her, the instant variety of lust that burns fiercely to life between the two makes Lucy live the lie of the mistaken identity (Matt thinking she is Sasha) just a little longer.

While Lucy battles her own insecurities owing to the wildness of her younger years, Matt believes that no woman would be willing to accept his sexual appetites for what they are. Yet, Matt finds that he cannot for the world of himself stay away from Lucy and the instantaneous explosive reaction that she offers to every single touch and command of his, which acts as the balm that soothes his ravaged soul.

What I love about Tessa Bailey is the fact that she delivers on all the sexual tension that makes you hold your breathe in, just barely daring to breathe wondering when the explosion would occur. I sometimes wonder at the tease and retreat game that many authors tend to put their characters through, with sexual tension so thick that it can only be cut through with an axe. I keep thinking, how on Earth do you turn away from something so compelling in the first place, that defies rhyme or reason. Guess their characters are far stronger than I would ever be. And perhaps that is one reason why I am drawn to the stories that Tessa Bailey writes because while you get the full impact of the searing sexual tension, you get along with it sex scenes of the mind blowing and panty melting variety that is unbeatable!

Matt, battling his demons was a facet of the story that touched me to no end. At first, I thought that Matt had been cheated on by his girlfriend for the usual reasons and that was it. But as I delved deeper into the story, there emerged the tale of how Matt had actually found out, and how even then, he had kept on trying until he had nothing left to give. Matt finds himself with the type of emotional scarring that is difficult to get rid of, especially given the fact that Matt is reserved around people and keeps to himself. Lucy coming to his life was like a light bulb moment; totally illuminating and capable of eroding away at the darkness that shrouds his heart and soul.

One point I would like to highlight time and yet again is that Bailey has a way of writing commanding heroes that one can never get enough of. Whenever Matt starts walking towards Lucy in that purposeful manner of his, I swear that every nerve ending inside of me went on the highest level of alert and nothing I did was enough to tamp it down. There’s just something so hot about a man who knows how to take charge & then deliver on all the promises that every stride he takes towards you makes. I couldn’t have asked for more where Matt was concerned! Le Sigh!

Lucy is a heroine that proved to be equal amounts of endearing. I loved her for having a mind of her own, for being able to love and see beyond the surface where Matt was concerned. Her courage and full of life nature gives the story itself a vitality that would not have existed otherwise. While Matt remains all darkness and edge, Lucy is the light that shines through & infuses the story with the color that it deserves.

Few authors can truly make a scorching explicit sex scene really work. Bailey is one of those authors and every single sex scene that I’ve read from hers has never failed to invoke deep emotions within me, which is the number one reason why I’d come back for her books time & yet again, because I know that if I ever were in need of a book that would completely scorch its way through my heart, I’d have to look no further than Tessa Bailey.

Recommended!

Final Verdict: Dirty of the kind that makes you melt – on the spot!

Favorite Quotes

“Take me deep, Sasha. I can’t wait any longer to fuck you. I need you.”
Something akin to panic flared in her eyes just as he drove into her with a hard upward thrust. “Matt—”
Then it was gone, as though he’d imagined it. Hidden behind her expression of shocked pleasure. His vision swam when he finally managed to shift his hips enough to bury himself to the hilt. Never. He’d never felt anything like her. She squeezed every inch of him like a vise, already beginning to contract, milking him before he’d even moved.
“Oh…oh my God. Matt.”

“Matt, please. I can’t wait.”
Without pausing his brutal thrusts, he leaned down and bit her bottom lip. “You come because I allow it. You only do it for me.”
“Yes. Yes!”
“Squeeze me, then. Milk it out of me.”
Lucy raked her fingernails down his ass, yanking him closer as she contracted her inner walls. She kept her eyes open, memorizing the way his jaw went slack, eyes unseeing as he imploded, jerking heavily inside her. His potent reaction combined with the muscled flesh of his backside pumping beneath her palms sent her spiraling over the edge, her surroundings becoming insignificant as he worked her through a stunning orgasm.
“Goddammit, Lucy,” he growled, collapsing on top of her. “I can’t stop this. How can I stop?”

The position made her back arch, displaying her stiff nipples, filling her with seductive power. God, she needed to be filled.
As if he’d heard her internal plea, he drew down his zipper and rolled on the condom he’d removed from his pants pocket. In one swift motion, he dragged her off the counter onto his waiting erection. Lucy screamed in her throat at the sudden fullness. Matt bit into her shoulder and groaned, but wouldn’t allow her to wrap her legs around his waist, pushing her knees down when she attempted to bring them higher.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Man With a Past by Kay Stockham

Format: E-bookmanwithapast
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: Joe Brody
Heroine: Ashley Cade
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: November 24, 2010
Started On: April 2, 2015
Finished On: April 5, 2015

Man with a Past by Kay Stockham is one of those stories that I stumbled across in my quest to find something featuring a widowed hero or heroine. I was utterly convinced to give this a go based on the rave reviews her books seem to receive, noted in particular for her delivery of emotional reads.

Man with a Past deals with ex-convict Joe Brody who returns back to his hometown after spending 10 years in prison for murder. Joe knows that no one would welcome him with open arms but he needs to find a way to stay, at least for his father’s sake.

Ashley Cade is swimming in waters out of her depth, having just moved to the neighborhood. Growing up in group homes has left its mark on her, and the one thing that drives her to strive to make it amidst feeling like the outsider who would never fit in is the dream that she and her husband had shared of bringing up their children in a homey neighborhood which would give them the experiences that they had both never had.

When Joe turns up at her home, Ashley, the one who follows every self-help guide that was ever written has a hard time letting go of her control issues and saying yes to the help that he would provide. The fact that no one else wants to work that hard for such a small pay is one of the reasons she says yes and within no time Joe proves to her that he is more than capable of delivering on his promises where work is concerned.

What troubles both Joe and Ashley from the onset is the attraction that slowly unfurls in both of them, each yearning for the other in a fashion that refuses to be denied. Joe believes deep in his heart that no one would want to be tainted by a man with a past as his and Ashley though she knows that its time for her to move on from the memory of her beloved, has a hard time trusting her instincts when it comes to going all in.

Kay Stockham writes a mean romance, delivering on characters that reach out to you, putting in the angst and emotional factor that makes the story that much more worth delving into. Joe is the character that clutches at your heart right from the very moment he steps into the story. The wealth of pain that he hides in his heart is one that swallows you a whole and you can’t help but feel for him all the way through.

Joe is one of those heroes that all kinds of romance readers would fall in love with without fail. He is sweet, kind and yet a tortured soul that you’d want to soothe no matter what. The fact that he had made something out of himself during the time in prison when he could have let it rot his mind and soul shows strength in his character that is rarely found. That Joe could find it in his heart to be patient when everything and everyone practically worked towards running him out of town was one of the best selling points when it came to his character. And of course, his rough and tough physique that hides the sweet and generous man that he is serves to be the icing on the cake.

Ashley proved to be a strong heroine, who has a hard time coming out of her comfort zone, her mode of survival when she had been growing up. It takes a different kind of strength to shake free the emotional ties that bind and strive to be better, to push yourself out there because you want your child to have the kind of childhood that you’d never experienced. I loved Ashely from her sassy nature to the kind hearted soul that she tries hard to hide, which nevertheless makes itself known time and yet again.

Kay Stockham touches on a lot of sensitive and important issues in this short novel. Deaths of babies associated with vaccination is one of the reasons why some parents tend to forgo vaccinating their children altogether, owing to the fact that certain children can prove to be allergic to certain vaccinations, especially given the circumstances of their birth. I found it quite informative, the concept that Kay explored in this story, an area that I have never yet delved into even with all the reading that I do.

The issues associated with small towns is also one that touched the core issue of someone from outside trying to fit in. Not to mention the tough time that even a wrongly convicted person, having served his “time” has in trying to fit back into society. There’s a lesson to be learnt from each of these issues that Kay has touched and I love an author who can make me think beyond the storyline and well into the issues that are highlighted in the story. All in all, I can honestly say that Kay Stockham is an author I would continue to seek and read because she has the sort of talent that draws the reader in.

Recommended for those that love sweetly emotional reads.

Final Verdict: Emotional, tender & sweet!

Favorite Quotes

Ashley’s laughter ended with a gasp. She pulled away to look him in the eyes, but didn’t put any more distance between them. He stared into the honey-bronze depths of her gaze and waited for her reaction. Waited for her to shove him away and stammer something about how she shouldn’t have hugged him.
Instead her mouth parted and an instant later Ashley raised herself on those sexy, red-painted toes. That was all the encouragement he needed. He pressed his mouth to hers, swept his tongue inside. She tasted hot and sweet, musky.

“What if I want you to?” she whispered. “What if I want you to kiss me?”
Joe turned just enough to glare at her over the shoulder she touched. In her bare feet she nearly met him eye to eye–nearly, but not quite. And although Mac had been taller, Joe was broader, more strongly built. Honed and hardened.
By prison.
“You deserve nice things like that car your date drove. Things I can’t give you.” He swore softly. “Ashley, I can’t give you anything right now because I have nothing to give.”

Still, he did as she asked and she got an eyeful of taut backside and corded muscles. She smoothed her hands up his arms, trailed her fingers to his shoulders, in to his neck and down his spine. She rose to her tiptoes and pressed another kiss to his skin, this one to the tattoo of Josie’s name.
“Ashley.” His voice broke, husky, filled with too much emotion and needing an outlet. Joe turned so fast she gasped, and even though she stood mere inches from the bed, he swept her into his arms to lower her to the surface. Then Joe’s mouth covered hers, his tongue delved deep and she immediately discovered a difference between this kiss and the ones they’d shared before she’d found out the truth.
Joe’s hesitation was gone. Her acceptance of him, of his past, had unleashed something inside him, a fierceness, a tenderness.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Chasing Trouble by Anne Stuart

Format: E-bookchasingtrouble
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: James Michael Diamond
Heroine: Sarah “Sally” Gallimard MacArthur
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: October 1, 1991
Started On: February 14, 2015
Finished On: March 15, 2015

Chasing Trouble by Anne Stuart is one of her oldies and nevertheless an enjoyable one at that. By the time I finished reading, I was sighing over the book, typical reaction to having read an Anne Stuart romance. My life undergoing a bit of a change right now means that I don’t have as much time as I used to, to read for fun. And when I do, I want the book to sweep me away on a journey, just as if I was discovering the wonderful genre of romance anew. Anne Stuart books have a way of surprising you with just that and Chasing Trouble is one of those stories that had me pleasantly surprised and of course giddy with the whole effect of it when I was done.

Sarah “Sally” Gallimard MacArthur is looking for a private investigator and an “unsavory one” at that, one who would ask less questions and help her find her sister. While James Michael Diamond fits the mold that she is looking for, James proves to be a tougher nut to crack than she imagined he would be. James would like nothing more than to forget the classy Sally that walked into his office, trying to convince him to find her sister. But then Sally proves to be a difficult woman to forget, before long, James finds himself saddled with a woman who talks too much and still manages to drive him crazy with the secrets that she harbors close to her heart.

Chasing Trouble is a story that manages to deliver the great stuff that the romance genre is legendary for, and yet the stories of the present seem to quite not be able to deliver. It does not present a mystery that makes your heart pound. But what it does is present two complex characters that the reader would like to peel the layers off to find what lies beneath.

James is the sort of cynical detective, whose life as a cop and his failed marriage has helped shape him to who he has become. Sally, while she might have led a privileged life, suffers from issues of her own which you become privy to as you read along. Both are reluctant to let other people close enough to trust the other with their heart, but eventually its a losing battle they fight when you factor in the sizzling hot attraction that makes the whole body hum.

Anne Stuart is legendary for the types of heroes that she manages to create for her stories. While James is a tamped down version of the caliber of heroes that Anne Stuart is ever famous for, his impact is no lesser. The control that he exerts on himself was one that I wanted to break down under the onslaught that his senses were being subjected to by Sally. I loved the witty banter which is of course another trademark of Anne Stuart novels. This one has got a lot of that going down and boy, do the sparks fly! The “mystery” aspect of the novel has little bit of twists to throw your way and I think everything worked out just wonderfully in the end.

Final Verdict: An enjoyable romp between two opposites. Recommended!

Favorite Quotes

She would have been able to resist an attempt to overwhelm her. Men had tried it often enough, and she had simply shoved them away. She would have been able to resist a polite brushing of his lips against hers. That was usually all she allowed. But she couldn’t resist the slow, sensuous nibbling of her lips, the way he drew her lower lip into his mouth and sucked lightly, the way his tongue moved against hers, the way his fingers stroked her breast into pebbled hardness, feeding the fire that was burning in the pit of her stomach.

He was almost frighteningly efficient about it. He seemed to know just what to do, just where to touch her, how hard, how soft, to elicit the response he wanted. She hadn’t known her breasts were so sensitive, but beneath his hands, his mouth, her reactions were astonishingly strong. She lay beside him on the bed, squirming, whimpering, straining to get closer to him as he quickly, cleverly brought her to the edge of explosion, all without letting her touch him.

She wanted to keep that response from him. She wanted to argue, to force him to break through that control, but the words wouldn’t come, her hands could only clutch his sweat-slick shoulder, her body could only move with his, reaching for him, clenching around him in a sudden shower of stars.
She remembered being almost surprised that he followed her, his body going rigid in her arms, his eyes closed tight, his mouth clamped shut as he gave her the one thing he couldn’t withhold.

“Sally, ” James said, his voice tight with regret, “I’m not the man for you. “
“Yeah, I know. You’re too old, too broke and too mean. Don’t worry about it. I’ll get older, I’ll give away my money and I’ll work on being just as sour as you. “
“Sally. . . “
She put her lips against his and he had to kiss her. There was no way he could stop himself. ”Don’t argue now, Diamond. Once we’re back in San Francisco and my sister’s safe, you can give me the brush-off. Or you can try, ” she added, as if honesty compelled her to. “But for now, just shut up and kiss me.”

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: The Duality Principle by Rebecca Grace Allen

Format: E-bookthedualityprinciple
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: The Portland Rebels, #1
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Hero: Connor Starks
Heroine: Gabriella Evans
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: November 11, 2014
Started On: February 20, 2015
Finished On: March 3, 2015

“A rose represents promises and hope, but its beauty is bonded with thorns. It embodies pain and loss. Combined together, they are in perfect harmony, equal parts beautiful and strong.”

I have somehow forgotten how I stumbled across this book, but I bet there is a good story behind it. The Duality Principle by Rebecca Grace Allen is a contemporary romance that is based on quite the “brainy” principle of duality. The heroine Gabriella Evans is doing her PhD in disproving the duality principle which states that “if a theorem is true, it remains true if each object and operation is replaced by its dual.” Gabriella is not just super intelligent, she is also someone who is tired of hiding her true nature from the men she had accepted into her life up till now. The fact that every single one of them had left her feeling like she is doing something wrong by wanting more from the physical aspect of their relationships had left its scar on her.

Gabriella comes to Portland, Maine to not only sort her thoughts out and work on her thesis, but to say goodbye to the home that had been her grandmother’s, a home that holds sentimental value to her and she is having a hard time letting go of. Her relationships with her parents is a tension filled one at best, and Gabriella comes seeking the solitude which she has always found at her grandmother’s place. When her best friend suggests that she go on a blind date with a friend of hers, Gabriella goes along with it, not thinking that anything much would come out of it. However, when Connor Starks shows up, there is something about him that makes her want to know more, that makes her senses go on red alert, and makes her want to climb, lick, kiss and suck every single inch of him. The fact that Connor seems to present two very contrasting sides of his character to her confuses her more and makes her want to unravel what it is that Connor is “hiding”.

Connor is the bad boy who has worked hard to walk the right path. The fact that Gabriella interests him on a level that no other woman has ever interested him before makes Connor fidgety about the fact that being true to his seductive nature could spell out trouble for him where his long term plans with Gabriella are concerned. But then again, the best laid plans always have a tendency of going awry, and time and yet again, Connor finds himself literally being driven crazy by the desire that makes him feel absolutely primal with wanting when it comes to Gabriella.

What made this book a fun read is the scorching hot sexual tension that sizzles through the pages, practically making me melt, on the spot. Connor is someone who turns up the heat, just like that, and there is nothing anyone can do but go along for the ride. The fact that Connor is the one who holds back, trying to do what is right as per his twisted logic when it comes to Gabriella is what lends the story the interesting tangent of angst that made this worth reading.

While most romance writers tend to shy away from writing brainy heroines of Gabriel’s nature, I found Gabriel to be an interesting mix. The duality that lives within her character, that is constantly at war with one another until Connor comes along and proves to her that he is man enough to handle both was quite compelling. The fact that I learned of a completely new-to-me nerd fact was the icing on the cake when it came to this book.

Recommended for those who love stories featuring sexy as sin, reformed bad boys who just can’t help but be bad with the right woman!

Final Verdict: Loved it!

Favorite Quotes

“You sure you don’t want any more?” he asked.
“I might want more.” But she didn’t mean the ice cream.
“You should. It tastes really good.”
He took the cone from her hand and slowly, purposefully gathered some ice cream onto the tip of his tongue. Closing the distance between them, he bent down to brush his lips against hers. For a moment, all she felt was hot breath and cold lips, and then his kiss washed over her. Gabriella melted into the feeling, drinking the ice cream that spilled from his mouth into hers.
Connor pulled back to take a breath and threw the cone to the ground.
“You taste better.” He roughly clasped her neck, cleaving her to him for another dizzying kiss. “Goddamn, you taste so good.”

Make an island of yourself, make yourself your refuge. There is no other refuge. Make truth your island. Make truth your refuge.

Connor slipped his hands to her bottom, and her hard exhale was as loud as his hiss when he squeezed. His lips brushed hers in an open-mouthed tease. “Am I hot yet?”
“Almost.” She reached back and drew one of his hands around to her belly. “Other side.”
Connor groaned and pulled her to him with the hand still grabbing her ass. He fell back against a nearby tree, leaning on it for support, and Gabriella licked the shell of his ear. Reveling in his shudder, she bit down on his earlobe and brought his hand down toward the waistband of her shorts. She popped the first button open for him, and Connor’s hand slipped inside.
“Now you’re burning up,” she told him.
“Fuck,” he said, his breathing hard and fast. When his fingers stroked over the damp fabric covering her slit, he seemed to completely forget about his quest. Instead, he simply snapped.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins

Format: E-bookthegirlonthetrain
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Mystery/Thriller
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Transworld Digital
Hero: NA
Heroine: Rachel
Sensuality: NA
Date of Publication: January 15, 2015
Started On: March 16, 2015
Finished On: March 24, 2015

The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins is one of those debut novels that has received rave reviews practically everywhere. This book first came to my attention through my sister, who is particularly choosy when it comes to reading. The next time happened to be when I walked into a bookstore here; I just had to pick it up from the prominent display right at the entrance and then I just had to get a copy after reading the blurb. Well, you know how that goes.

The Girl on the Train has an interesting premise, one that perhaps observant commuters who travel back and forth to work or anywhere for that matter, can relate to. Rachel is the woman who commutes to London to work everyday and back, a journey that takes almost an hour of her time in the mornings and evenings. What Rachel does to while away the time is to watch the view beyond the windows of the train. The one thing Rachel does focus on everyday is the couple that she has come to call Jess and Jason, a couple that she believes to be in love, a couple who has got it all, unlike her failed marriage to Tom, the man with whom she shared the house just a couple feet away from the house her Jess and Jason occupy.

When Rachel sees something she would rather not on one of those long commutes and it suddenly comes to light that the woman she has started calling Jess in her mind has gone missing, Rachel does the one thing any civic minded woman would do. She goes to the police to tell them of what she knows.

Thus starts a tale that keeps the reader guessing, that tells the story of a woman who continues to live her life as an alcohol addict, who has a difficult time letting go of the husband who had divorced her for another woman. Rachel finds herself in the midst of a circle of distrust, both from the police as well as the spouse of the woman that has gone missing. The rampant circle of distrust becomes more corrosive driven by the fact that Rachel has a hard time trusting her own memory when it comes to her alcohol riddled mind.

Ms. Paula Hawkins takes the reader through a journey of the impact of emotional and physical abuse, and how debilitating that the former as well as the latter can be when it comes the self confidence of a person. The truth emerges slowly and painfully, at least for Rachel and gives the reader a chance to delve deep into the psychology that drives Rachel to seek out what had actually happened the night “Jess” had disappeared.

While I had my finger on who the villain would turn out to be, The Girl on the Train nevertheless proved to be a story that kept the pages turning, because there is a quality to the voice of it all that is just compelling. While I am not one to stray into genres that do not contain any elements of romance in it, I found myself the least bit bothered with the lack of it because Paula Hawkins delivers a damn good story! Recommended!

Final Verdict: Makes for compulsive, addictive reading!

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Rebel by Kristina Douglas

Format: E-bookrebel
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Series: The Fallen, #4
Publisher: Pocket Books
Hero: Cain
Heroine: Martha
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: March 26, 2013
Started On: February 8, 2015
Finished On: February 10, 2015

Rebel is the last published book in the Fallen series by Kristina Douglas. Rebel tells of the fallen angel Cain, who returns to Sheol after a long period of time, nursing the need vengeance and revenge that has been haunting him for a long time. Cain is the hell raiser, the angel that everyone at Sheol has a hard time trusting given his penchant for causing trouble and leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. When Martha, the seer of the Fallen “sees” the arrival of Cain, Martha would like nothing more than for her this very vision to be proved wrong.

From the minute Cain arrives in Sheol engulfed in a ball of fire, everyone is shocked and apprehensive of his presence at the same time. Martha more so because of the wicked variety of dreams that had been haunting her for a while now, dreams of Cain and herself getting down and dirty in a way that she and her now dead husband had never engaged before. Nothing scares Martha more than opening herself up to the vulnerability that would be sure to follow if she allows Cain in and Cain certainly makes it hard for her to trust him with her heart when it comes to him.

Cain believes that nothing but boredom makes him seek out Martha. That her dull character would soon bore him and he would be able to move on without much trouble. That Martha is nothing but just one step he needs to cross in order to execute his plan of making the Fallen bleed a success. What he doesn’t bet on is for Martha to show him a side of her that proves to be alluring both physically and emotionally, for her to reach into a side of him that makes him want to lash out and he does, in ways that will exasperate the reader and then some.

While all of the Fallen stories follow a similar pattern, it is Cain’s arrival that heralds a belief change in the entire group that stirs things up in a manner that the occupants of Sheol has never faced before. Martha whose character appears to be a bit of a lackluster one in the previous novels proves to be the most surprising element to the story when she reveals her backbone of steel that has seen and being through a lot in her life. She is the usual no nonsense variety of heroines that Anne Stuart loves to write and she writes them well.

While I totally was on board with the angst that was delivered to the story through Cain’s reluctance to put a label on his feelings where Martha was concerned, I felt that Cain didn’t really have to work for it when it came to winning Martha over. I would definitely have loved to see Cain grovel a bit, so that it would have given readers a more well rounded ending to their story.

While there is no mention anywhere on the continuation of this series, I would like to think that somewhere along the way Anne Stuart would put pen to paper and give the series an ending that readers would love. Lucifer is the fallen angel that is left and the angel which I believe as per how things were proceeding would end up turning things around not just for the Fallen, but for the entire world.

Recommended! And one more thing; the dream sex – totally hot!

Final Verdict: A hell raising angel and a seer whose visions never seem just quite right. Love definitely is a game changer.

Favorite Quotes

He moved then, and his breath was hot against my skin, his long hair drifting against me, his hands on my arms, holding me still. And then his mouth touched my skin, and I wanted to weep.
It was no erotic kiss, no arousing tease of my suddenly tight breasts. It was a soft, sweet kiss against the place where the claws had bitten deep into my flesh, where the scar puckered in such an ugly way. A kiss, a benediction, followed by another, and then another, as his mouth traced the brutal line of scarring, then moved on to the next one, and I was weeping beneath my tightly closed lids.
He said nothing, but I heard his thoughts anyway. You shouldn’t be ashamed of these scars, his voice said in my dream. They’re a badge of honor.

“More.” I didn’t recognize the raw, needy whisper, but I could feel the strange delight of his laugh against my clitoris, and then his teeth, delicately, as he withdrew his long finger and then pushed two inside.
I shattered immediately, my voice hoarse as I cried out. “Don’t . . .
“Don’t . . . stop.”
He didn’t, pushing me over that hill and then dragging me up another, higher, steeper, and I knew the plummet into darkness would be terrifying, and I knew I couldn’t—wouldn’t—fight him. I wanted this. In the private darkness of my dreams, I wanted everything, because nothing was real.

“Take me,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “Take all of me.” And I moved, baring my neck to him.
He thrust, so deep and hard that it was a kind of pleasure-pain that had me teetering on the very edge. And when I felt his bite sink deep into my throat, I went over, lost in the pulsing of my blood into his mouth, the pulsing of his semen inside me. Lost, forever, until, as I wanted, there was nothing left.

“It doesn’t. It’s just me asking. Come here, Martha. Or turn your back on me. It’s your choice. It always has been.”
I stared at him. “And it doesn’t matter which one I choose?”
His smile was rueful. “Of course it does. I’m ready to explode from wanting you. You’re making me crazy—I can’t concentrate on why I’m here; all I can think about is getting inside you, and each dream only makes it worse instead of taking the edge off. I’m drowning in you, in your scent and your touch and your taste. Come to me, goddamn it.” His voice was ragged at the end of this, and I was hot, trembling.
“No,” I said. Just to see the darkness flood his face. “You come to me.”

I felt the wall against my back, hard, and his hands were up under the shift, on my hips, ripping away the scrap of underwear I wore. He braced me against the wall as I felt his fingers between my legs, testing me, slipping in the wetness of my arousal, and then he fumbled with his jeans. I heard the rasp of a zipper in the darkness, and a moment later he was pressed against me, large and hot and real, and there was no sweetness, no gentle persuasion, there was only the hard thrust of him, pushing in, deep, so deep that I wanted to cry out in sudden satisfaction. Wanted to cry out for more.

“I want you to feel this,” he whispered against my ear. “I want you to be so caught up in you and me that there isn’t room for anything else. Not doubt, not control, not trust or Thomas or any of the thousands of reasons you don’t want this. I want you to think only about why you do. Why you want me inside you. Why it feels like you’d die if you didn’t feel me inside you. And then you’ll understand what I’ve been feeling for the past week, every time I look at you.”

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Warrior by Kristina Douglas

Format: E-bookwarrrior
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Series: The Fallen, #3
Publisher: Pocket Books
Hero: Michael Angelo
Heroine: Victoria Bellona
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: April 24, 2012
Started On: January 24, 2015
Finished On: February 8, 2015

He wanted her. Needed her.
He wouldn’t take her.

Warrior by Kristina Douglas is the third book in the Fallen series. Warrior tells the story of Michael Angelo, the angel that has honed himself into a lethal fighting machine. It has been two centuries since Michael had last taken a mate and Michael has no intention of taking one until fate brings to his life Victoria Bellona, the Roman Goddess of War.

Victoria doesn’t believe in the fact that she is a goddess of anything, much less a Goddess of War. However, it is undeniable that her childhood up till now had prepared her in the art of fighting and she aims to fight dirty to gain her freedom from the life she has been subjected to, until she finds herself married off to Michael, a man whose very presence makes Victoria forget herself, until she learns that Michael is one of the Fallen and has no intention of ever truly making her his.

Michael fights a losing battle when it comes to Victoria. Michael’s honorable intentions take a hard hit when it comes to her. When Michael is forced to go after Victoria, all bets are off when both Victoria and Michael finally give in to the hunger that courses through them every second that they are together.

With every searing kiss and scorching touch, Michael knows that there would be no turning back for him when it comes to Victoria. But the Fallen’s number one enemy is still eager as ever to break them up, make them all bow down to him and in the process, destroy what they’ve built millenniums ago. Will Victoria make a difference or will she be the one that helps their enemy finally and once and for all bring them down?

Though not as good as the first two books in the series, it is hard to remain detached from a tale spun by Anne Stuart. She brings the variety of wicked humor and nerve tingling passion alive in her books that are hard to forget. Michael and Victoria, though at the surface might seem like they don’t want anything to do with each other, fights an attraction that burns through their blood, a calling that runs through their soul for each to claim the other. Half the fun lay in Michael trying to resist Victoria and the passion that ignited when he finally succumbed to the inevitability of it all.

Recommended.

Final Verdict: A grumpy & reluctant angel finds his match in the brave goddess of war that entices him unlike any other.

Favorite Quotes

He stood at one end, his face cool and impassive. Such an arresting face on the man. Angel. Whatever he was. Exquisitely beautiful. Exquisitely cold.
In the bright sunlight I could see him clearly for the first time. He was wearing white as all the others were, a loose open shirt, though he’d rolled up the sleeves, as if even a so-called wedding required hard work. I looked at his strong forearms, and for the first time I noticed tattoos snaking their way up beneath the white cloth. The shirt was loose at the neck as well, and there were more markings on his chest, his throat, twining around to the back of his head, markings I hadn’t seen before. I halted, momentarily fascinated, and then Allie caught my arm and gently urged me forward.

She must have heard him come in. She rose on one elbow, looking at him, and the sheet fell away, exposing one small, perfect breast. And he needed to suck at it, to slide his hand between her legs and feel the wetness of her desire. He’d tried everything he could to fight this.
For the first time in his limitless existence, he had lost a battle.

“You’re not paying a debt,” he said. “Are you?”
She hesitated. “No,” she said, and leaned back against the pillow. “And you aren’t doing your duty, are you?”
“No.” He knelt on the bed, straddling her carefully. There was barely enough room for the two of them. It didn’t matter. They were going to be so close they wouldn’t need extra space. “No,” he said again, moving between her legs, lifting them. He took her mouth, her sweet, inexperienced mouth, with his, and then simply pushed inside her, hard, knowing she’d be wet and ready for him.

He pulled out almost completely, and she let out a cry of loss. He slid his hand down her stomach to her clitoris, touching her as he suddenly slammed into her, and she shattered, her body clamping around him. She shrieked against his shoulder, in shock, in pleasure, her fingers digging into him so tightly he would have thought she’d draw blood. That was another arousal, and he thrust, again and again, hard, riding her orgasm, prolonging it, and when she finally fell back, limp, he let himself go, releasing his seed into her, filling her, his head dropping to the pillow beside her as his wings unfurled to lock around them, cradling them in softness.

Darkness. Thick, enveloping darkness, with his strong body surrounding me, his hot, wet mouth on mine. All arguments fled. I wanted this. Needed this. Ever since I’d left his bed, a part of me had been missing, and now it was found again. He had come for me. And I was his.
His tongue slid into my mouth, and I felt unaccountably shy even after last night, but it didn’t seem to matter. When I tentatively moved my tongue against his, he let out a low growl of unmistakable approval, and I wanted to get closer. I wanted him inside me again, I wanted to take his cock into my mouth the way they did in the books I’d read. I wanted everything.

So many contrasting emotions were flooding me that I felt dizzy. Lust and irritation went without saying. But . . . he’d come for me. He’d died for me. He had my blood inside him, making him strong. He had me inside him.
And in willingly giving him my blood, my life force, I was afraid I’d given him more than that. I had given him love.

He shook me again, gripping my wrists so tightly that my hands were growing numb. “Had enough?” he demanded furiously.
“Not even close,” I snapped back.
And then we both froze. He looked down at me, bafflement and rage fading from his face. His mouth was bleeding. “Oh, shit,” he said.
He released my wrists. I didn’t know if he was going to try to pull away, but I wasn’t going to give him that chance.
“Oh, shit, indeed,” I said, my eyes daring him.
His mouth on mine was hard and angry, and I could taste his blood. It should have horrified me. It didn’t.

I shattered, letting out a low, keening wail, and he caught the cry from my mouth, drinking it in. Distantly I heard the clang of his belt buckle and the rasp of his zipper, and then he was inside me, sliding deep, pulling my legs around his narrow hips. I was already wet, aroused, my body accepting, and I clung to him, shocked. I felt like a boat on a stormy ocean, adrift in a tempest of sensation so powerful I could focus only on his body and what it was doing to mine.

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Demon by Kristina Douglas

Format: E-bookdemon
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Series: The Fallen, #2
Publisher: Pocket Books
Hero: Azazel
Heroine: Rachel Fitzpatrick
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: May 31, 2011
Started On: December 11, 2014
Finished On: December 12, 2014

“Who is Sarah?” […]
“My wife,” he said. “She died seven years ago. And I will not replace her with you.”

What happens when you find a series that just begs to be read? On top of that, what happens when it is written by an author who always delivers, even in her not so stellar stories? Well, that is what has happened in the case of The Fallen series written by Kristina Douglas aka Anne Stuart. I finished reading Raziel, the first book in the series just two days back. Being the fan that I am, and given the intriguing ending to Raziel, I just couldn’t help myself but quickly pick up the second book to read.

In Raziel, the first book, we meet Azazel, the Alpha of The Fallen, who has acted as their leader for eons. Giving the secret behind Azazel’s leaving would be spoiling it for readers who are interested so I will just say that it is heartbreaking what happens to Azazel, who leaves Sheol, the hidden realm on Earth in which the fallen angels reside. Anger and fear drives Azazel to seek out the female demon Lilith, who is rumored to be all things evil. Azazel’s fear stems from a prophecy as old as time itself, and he knows that the only way to prevent that from coming true would be to kill Rachel Fitzpatrick.

Rachel is a woman who leads a life even that she can’t remember much. There are echoes of memories that linger around in her mind. She doesn’t tend to stay around one place for long, some age old instinct driving her to run when the time comes. When Rachel finds herself face to face with Azazel who has the weirdest theory about who she is, and wanting to kill her, none other than Rachel is more surprised by the fact that she wants the man whose cold eyes speak of an intention to end her life.

Azazel would be kidding himself if he were to think that he is immune to Rachel. Though she hides behind baggy clothes and assumes a nonthreatening posture, the lure that she presents to mankind itself is one that even Azazel is not immune from. That doesn’t mean that he gives in from the moment he lays eyes on her. Rather he fights and fights dirty to keep her at bay, going as far as to betray her in a way that would have been hard to pull off if not for a writer of Anne Stuart’s caliber.

Mark my words, Azazel is ruthless. Ruthless in a way that some readers might not appreciate. But I think Demon is a perfect portrayal of his character the way the author intended him to be. I hate books where at the beginning of a series, a particular character is portrayed as this tortured and ruthless man that would be hard to take in, but oh so good when all is said and done. And then when his book arrives, from the minute his intended show up, he loses every single character that defines who he is. That is not realistic in my opinion and it cheats the readers out of a lot of anticipation they have been storing up for that particular character. Which is why I love Kristina Douglas aka Anne Stuart. She has no problem with delivering her characters as they are. And she ends up doing quite a fantastic job out of the storytelling with them.

Though I fell in love with Raziel’s story a tad more than I did for Azazel’s, Demon nevertheless is a book not to be missed. It has got a story that you’d either love or hate; there is no in between. Once again, combining first person point of view with view points from other characters in the story in third person, if every story written in first person were to be like this, I definitely wouldn’t have a problem! Recommended!

Final Verdict: Lust, redemption, betrayal and love; Kristina Douglas definitely delivers!

Favorite Quotes

“You are everything that is evil. I should have left you to the Nephilim.”
[..]
“Why didn’t you?” My voice was almost a whisper, as if I knew what he was going to do and I was afraid to startle him. Distract him. Stop him. I knew what he wanted, and God help me, I wanted it too.
His deep-blue eyes were shadowed, and I thought I could see a streak of blood on his mouth. Whose blood? “Because I am a fool and a half,” he whispered as well, the night air all around us. “Because I know who and what you are, and I want you anyway.”
And he kissed me. His mouth was rough, pushing mine open as his hard body pressed me back against the car, and I felt heat, desire, sweep through me, not knowing if it was his or mine.

I kept my mouth shut, wondering whether I could bite him hard enough to draw blood, wondering why my breath was coming fast and my heart was racing. It wasn’t fear. I’d told the truth—I was no longer afraid of him. I remembered his kiss from the dockside, the rush of desire that had suffused my body.
As it did now. My pulse raced, my skin heated; I was wet and ready. I thought, Fuck it, and opened my mouth for him, taking the sweet invasion of his tongue with a shock of pleasure, and I knew I’d been waiting for this, longing for this without knowing it. Longing for him, my enemy.

He brought his hands up to cradle my head, as impossibly the kiss deepened, and I wanted my clothes off—now. I wanted to strip him naked and feel him inside of me, pulsing and thrusting. I could sense it, anticipate it, feel the thick push of him, and I cried out against his mouth as a small climax startled me.

I felt his teeth then, a small bite against my skin, barely painful, and my muffled arousal was suddenly full-force, sweeping over my body. I put my hands on him, on his damp, silky hair, pressing him against me. The room wasn’t dark the way I wanted, but it didn’t matter. It was all right to want him, all right to feel overwhelming desire. There were no witnesses, and he didn’t care what I was feeling. We were doing this, it was out of my control, and his mouth was wonderful against me.

“Oh, God,” I whispered as he licked me gently, carefully, teasing me until I wanted to scream at him. And then his mouth fastened on me with such deep, drawing hunger that I felt a hot spasm between my legs and, straddling him, pressed my naked body against his. He hadn’t lied. He was most definitely aroused, and I rocked against him instinctively, feeling him against my sensitive flesh.

I looked down between us, at the joining. I could see my nipples, tight and hard. See him buried inside me as I felt my body grow accustomed to his. He hadn’t moved, and slowly I raised my eyes to look at him.
For a moment we simply stared at each other, frozen in time, his eyes and mine, more powerfully intimate than the joining between our legs. “Move,” he said, his voice raw.

I dug my fingers into his shoulders, wanting to get away, but he wouldn’t let me. “Do not fight it,” he whispered. “Embrace it.” He slid his hand down my stomach, touching where we joined, and a jolt of reaction swept through me.
I heard my own muffled cry, and he surged up into me again, and again, and he touched me once more, hard, and his voice was a growl.
“Come,” he said. And I did.

Pulling the long skirt up, exposing my legs in the stormy afternoon, so that I felt the rain pelting against them, and I knew I should care whether someone was watching. I did care, just not enough. Not even when he reached for my panties and with one rough yank tore them off.
He put one hand under my butt, lifting me up, pressing me back against the door, and I heard the rasp of his zipper, his muttered curse as he freed himself, and then he pushed inside me, not waiting to see if I was ready for him.
I was. More than ready.

His hands were on my bare thighs, holding me up, and he pushed into me again and again. I could hear the wet slap of our joining, and it was another jolt of dark pleasure. He kissed me, hard, and I could taste blood, his or mine or both, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t get enough of me and I couldn’t get enough of him.

One more crash of lightning, and the sky opened in a deluge. He slammed back into me, and I went over the edge as I felt him jerk and pulse into me. I have no idea why I did it, only knew that I needed to; my mouth opened, and my teeth sank into his strong, powerful throat, breaking the skin, tasting the rich sweetness of his blood.
I heard his deep groan, felt him swell inside me, and then nothing more as sheer sensation washed over me. I shook, convulsing, lost in a place that terrified me, with only his arms and his body supporting me as I flew.

His hands slid down, covering them, and I cried out with the sensation, a raw, rough sound, and then I made no sound at all as his mouth closed over one taut nipple, drawing it in tightly, his tongue dancing across the beaded top as he sucked, and I wondered if I could come simply from his mouth at my breast. And then I remembered his hoarse, one-word command, “Come,” and my body went rigid as a small climax caught me.

The pull of his mouth at my neck, sucking, drinking, lost in my taste, the sweet hot rush as he filled me were too much. I was dying, and I didn’t care. We would die together, destroyed by a desire that was elementally wrong; they had warned us, and neither of us had cared. I was dying, and I was in his arms, and that was all that mattered.
There were feathers, feathers closing around me, soft and blessed, drawing in the darkness, and as I tumbled back to earth I let myself rest in their gentleness, at peace.

His hands slid down to cover my breasts, his fingers plucking my nipples, and the banked fire roared to life again. I pressed my butt against him, rubbing, and his sudden growl was pure animal need. Something that vibrated within me as well. I turned in his arms, and he kissed me, his mouth still tasting of the salt water, and I wanted to drink him in. Wanted to suck at him, as he had sucked at me, and I knew what I was going to do.
“Oh, God,” he muttered weakly, and I remembered he could read my thoughts. My body heated with a rush of embarrassment, but he only laughed, low in his throat, and shoved the covers off me.

“I want …” she whispered in that lost, broken voice that filled him with shame and sorrow, “… I want to change positions.”
He managed a crooked smile. “Of course,” he said, starting to turn and pull her on top; but she resisted, pushing at him.
“No,” she said. “There’s another way.”
He held very still. “There are many other ways,” he said finally, his own voice sounding as damaged as hers.
“I … I …” Embarrassment colored her voice, and he knew she couldn’t find the words.
“You want me to guess?” he said with strangled amusement.

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