Category / Scarred Hero

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Mistress of the Night by Charlotte Featherstone

Format: E-bookmistressofthenight
Read with: Adobe Reader for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: New Concepts Publishing
Hero: Blaine Ashbourne
Heroine: Madeline Brydges
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: September 1, 2005
Started On: November 11, 2015
Finished On: November 12, 2015

Charlotte Featherstone is an author who got on my radar with her book Sinful. Her decision to not take the easy way out when she crafted the hero in the story won my wholehearted approval. Even though the books that I have read from her since then haven’t lived up to the mark, Mistress of the Night caught my eye because there was just something about the description of the story that got to me. The reclusive hero described? Yes. The heroine who wants him and no other? Oh, hell yes!

Blaine Ashbourne, even though he is part of the elite ton, is someone who keeps himself far removed from everything that goes on in those circles. He keeps close to himself a secret that he would rather die than get out, knowing that it would be one not at all well received. It is his bid to look out for his niece that lands himself in this ball and that, directly in the sight of Madeline Brydges, the woman he observes without being obvious about it, or so he thinks, his hunger for her something that shocks even himself.

Madeline has no choice but to snare herself the husband that her father insists that she find. But the only man whom she is going to get herself married to is none other than the Earl of Ashbourne, a man who is seemingly as reticent as they come. But with every encounter that proves otherwise, Blaine and Madeline seduces and get seduced by each other, while Blaine believes that a blissfully wedded future with anyone, much less Madeline is not for the likes of him.

Mistress of the Night is a story that had such potential. Charlotte’s flair for the dirty talking hero and sex scenes that practically melt you on the insides were all present in the story. But it fell short of delivering on what it could have been. I felt a tad disappointed and a wee cheated by the time I finished reading the book, though it is a testament to the writing that I finished the book in just one sitting. Perhaps my problem was with the huge differences between how the book was described in the blurb and how it actually materialized later on.

Blaine is someone who has had fear instilled in his heart by his father. A father who had been devastated that the only son he had ever had turned out to be less than perfect. Blaine’s tortured soul heals under the touch of Madeline, but he refuses to let her in too deep, for the fear that she might discover the secret that he keeps from almost everyone. Madeline’s actions towards the latter part of the novel also might be one of the reasons why I couldn’t really say I loved what happened, though I did understand that desperate times called for desperate measures. Nonetheless, Mistress of the Night turned out to be an enjoyable read, recommended for those that love this author.

Final Verdict: Delivers scrumptious scenes of passion, true to Charlotte Featherstone style!

Favorite Quotes

“I wanted that dance to be with you, Maddy. The whole time I was dancing with her I thought only of you, wishing we were the only two people in the room so that I might do this to you.”
Her pulse leapt and surged as he continued to caress her neck, his fingers, light and teasing trailed down her throat, stopping at the peak of her breast, only to travel back up the column of her throat.
“Tell me,” he said, bringing her back tight against his chest, his tongue, hot and teasing flicked along her bounding pulse. “What is it you desire?”

“God, how I want this,” he said thickly, stroking his thumb along her nipple, making it pebble hard. “And this.” he slid his hand down her bodice to the flat plane of her belly where he kneaded the small mound. “And this,” his voice was a low rumble in her ear as his fingers traced the curls of her sex through her thin gown. “I want this so much. So much so that I cannot sleep. So much that I am constantly thinking of you, of your lips, your flame red hair, the way your skin feels. So much that I lie awake, hard and aroused, torturing myself with thoughts of how you will feel beneath my hands, my lips, my body. I dream of how you will taste, Madeline. I dream of the taste of your sex, the feel of you on my tongue. Tell me, would you let me taste the desire I create within you?” A whimper caught in her throat and he tightened his hold on her while he kissed her shoulder. “Tell me what you want, Maddy.”

“Make love to me, Maddy. Show me what it is like.”
She didn’t know what he wanted, but he showed her. He sat in the chair and brought her down atop him. Cupping her bottom he showed her how to ride him and when she had the right of it, she caught his hands in hers and clutched them tight. She captured his gaze, holding it as she loved him, and she thought she saw his eyes fill with more than desire. She thought she saw love shining back at her, but then he blinked it away and reached for her and slid himself out of her body, emptying his seed on to his own belly. He clutched her to him and he held on to her like a drowning man holds on to a lifeline.
“Mine,” he whispered into her hair and she knew then that she was his lifeline in a sense. Something profound had happened.

“It’s very warm, isn’t it?” Madeline asked, fanning her bosom with her hand.
Blaine couldn’t help but watch that delicate hand as it whispered slowly back and forth and over the exposed mounds of her breasts, of which, the bodice of her French gown did little to hide. “Wouldn’t you agree, my lord?”
“Huh?” The word was a strangled huff, torn from his throat when one of her fingers traced the length of him through his trousers. Thank God the table was shielding them and thank God no one but Madeline could see the reaction her boldness was having on him.
“Are you warm, too?” she asked, looking up at him through her veil of copper lashes.
Warm? Sweet Jesus, he was on fire.

“Tell me,” she whispered again, “tell me where you want to come. My belly?”
She licked him and swirled the tip of her around the head of his cock. “My breasts,” his gaze lowered to her rounded breasts that were swinging with her movements and he captured them in his hands and let go of them with a small, gentle slap, watching as they swayed faster. She purred as he repeated the motion, this time a little faster, a little harder, and his cock swelled further in her hand. “My throat?” she asked, her hot breath caressing his shaft, forcing his gaze away from her breasts only to see her tongue curl around the rimmed cap of his cock. “My mouth,” she teased in a deep, wanton whisper.
He closed his eyes and wrapped his hand in her hair. “Yes,” he said, filling her mouth with his cock. “Your pretty mouth.”

“Look at me.” She did, her beautiful eyes glazed with passion and need. “Watch.”
And then he sunk himself to the hilt inside her tight, wet sheath in one powerful stroke. Her eyes widened and her lips parted on a silent moan. “So damn beautiful, and you’re mine,” he whispered, holding her gaze, watching the tremors of pleasure flicker along her face with every one of his thrusts. “You’re all mine, aren’t you, Maddy? Just mine.”
“Yes,” she breathed against his neck, her pants matching the rhythm of his
strokes.
“Forever, Madeline?” he asked, mindless with need, careless with his words as he forced himself inside her. “Because it has to be forever.”

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N

favorableread

by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: In the Waning Light by Loreth Anne White

Format: E-bookinthewaninglight
Read with: Adobe Reader for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Hero: Blake Sutton
Heroine: Meggie Brogan
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: November 3, 2015
Started On: November 6, 2015
Finished On: November 10, 2015

Meggie Brogan returns to her hometown of Shelter Bay because she wants to prove that she has indeed left her past behind. The past that involves the brutal murder of her sister Sherry, a murder that had rocked and torn asunder the idyllic town where she had grown up in. The murder that had splintered her family, having now left her all alone in this world, except for the man who wants to make her his, if only she would let him.

A true crime writer, Meggie has never broken the cardinal rule of not picking an unsolved case, which is sort of what Sherry’s case is. Although the killer had been identified and things had gone horribly wrong in between, Meggie can’t help but believe that a part of her subconscious keeps holding back fragments of the memories associated with the day Sherry had been killed. Returning to her hometown raises more skeletons from her closet, ones like the sexy Blake Sutton, the man she had left behind when she had fled her home all those years ago.

Blake has got his hands full with being a single father to his son Noah and trying to restore his family’s place of business to its former glory. And then in walks the woman that had gotten away, the woman whom he has never forgotten, though so many things had happened in his life since then. Meggie’s quest to write a book on her sister’s murder brings a fresh source of worry for Blake even amidst the haze of desire for her that almost obliterates everything else. The town of Shelter Bay is about to be rocked to its very core once again as Meggie’s quest for the truth takes her deeper into a web of secrets, lies and half-truths, secrets so deadly that she might not live to tell the tale she came home to write.

Loreth Anne White writes a mean story with in In the Waning Light, throwing the reader into the chaos that she has so beautifully crafted. I was in shock, in awe and everything in between as I kept turning the pages, trying to piece together what had happened that fateful day when Sherry had died such a brutal death. Meggie and Blake’s connection that rekindles was another factor that kept me glued to the pages. Though Loreth doesn’t spend all that time discussing their past, the bits and pieces tossed in between makes for wholesome reading, showing a passion that had refused to die even with all that distance and time that had come and gone since then.

There is so much tragedy and loss in the story that I at times felt like I was totally going to lose it. The secrets as they came forth like a dam that had broken, kept me on my toes, afraid of what just might be around the corner. I think it was because of all the factors above that In the Waning Light turned out to be a story that really got to me. I kept telling my husband about this great book I was reading; I was like a child with a beautiful sleek new toy that was all mine and I wanted to savor it in small doses but wanted to just take all of it as well. I actually managed to convince my husband to read this book, my husband who rarely reads, if ever. This book consumed him just like it did me, he barely even made the time to watch any of his favorite TV shows, just holed himself in the room and kept reading, cursing me all the while for giving him a book that refused to let go.

There is such beauty to the way the settings are described in this story that I absolutely fell in love with it. There are authors who try too hard to describe the scenes they are writing and end up failing miserably, making the reader flip through the pages just to get to the story that is at its core. Believe me, cos I have read my fair share of those books. But In the Waning Light tossed all that out of the window and made me sigh and yearn at the magic that Loreth was weaving right in front of my eyes. It is almost as if you are engulfed in the fog described, being tossed around in the roiling sea while the wailing wind tries to snatch you from the scene before it engulfs you as a whole. That was how I felt through every single scene in the book. It was all encompassing. It was that gripping, and I loved the sensation of being thoroughly swept away!

The suspense itself was topnotch. The clues lead the reader on a wild goose chase and then some. But at a certain point, you start getting a feel for who the murderer could be, that is if you are the type who questions every character that you come across in the story.

A small town brimming with secrets everyone is keeping from the other person, even their loved ones, those secrets that can rip families apart and toss a town inside out; those are the type of secrets that Loreth was dealing with In the Waning Light. A heroine suffering from a memory block, the same memory block that perhaps had saved her life long ago, the very block that prevents her from committing to anything or anyone in her life except for her passion of writing true crime.

If there ever was a romantic suspense that I would recommend the hell out of this year, it would be this.

Final Verdict: Blew me away. Completely. Cannot recommend it just enough!

Favorite Quotes

She leaned in toward him, her lids lowering, and desire gushed hot through his gut, kicking every residual thought clean out of his head and sending his blood south with a sweet, pulsing delirium as his lips met hers. Her mouth was cool, soft, firm, and she opened to him.
He slid his fingers up into the dense, soft waves at the nape of her neck. A moan slipped from her throat, and her hand touched his arm, moving up his biceps, along his shoulder, encircling his neck as she pulled him closer, and opened her mouth wider, moving suddenly faster, hungry, her tongue, slick, warm, mating, warring with his.

He reached for her hands, and drew her to him, slowly, inexorably, giving her time to stop him, the question implicit in his pacing, in the darkening pools of his eyes. And when she didn’t resist, he yanked her firmly against his solid frame, his other hand sliding down her hips and cupping her buttocks. He pulled her pelvis up against his groin as he forced his mouth down hard on hers. She felt his erection pressed between them.
Heat exploded logic from Meg’s mind. She came up onto her toes, arching into him, opening her mouth under the crushing aggression of his hunger, her tongue tangling, fighting with his.

Sex with Blake was elemental and it was rough. It was slammed up against the wall, her legs wrapped around him, and it was back down on his bed with her on top of him rocking against his pelvis, milking him, panting, a trembling tension building in every fiber of her body as she clamped his wrists down above his head, and he bucked under her, up into her. He flipped her onto her back, and she tasted blood as his teeth raked and bit her lips, and she responded with equal ferocity. He kneed her thighs open wide, and thrust up into her, impaling her, forcing her to gasp and burn with each push to the hilt of his thick cock. She felt the wet heat of his mouth down her belly, at her groin, his tongue inside her. And she shattered like bridge cables that had held too taut for too many years, suddenly exploding in an almighty crash as rolling contractions seized her body and her mind.

She eyed him. “If I didn’t know better, Mr. Sutton, I’d say you were jealous.”
His features tensed, and his eyes grew dark. She swallowed. He stepped forward, grabbed her shoulders, and kissed her hard, backing her up against the wall. “Maybe I am, Meggie Brogan,” he murmured over her mouth, his hand sliding down her back, and cupping her buttocks. Heat arrowed instantly into her groin. She was turned on by his rough and sudden intensity. “Shall we christen these nice clean carpets?” he whispered, his mouth moving down her neck, down to the vee in her shirt. Her nipples contracted.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | iTunes

fantasticread

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Just Kiss Me by Kathleen O’Reilly

Format: E-bookjustkissme
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: Joseph Matthias Barrington
Heroine: Amanda Sedgewick
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: August 1, 2002
Started On: October 29, 2015
Finished On: October 29, 2015

Kathleen O’Reilly landed on my reading radar with her novel Sex, Straight Up, which I just adored. The story was just so much more than what you would usually expect from a Harlequin Blaze novel and it blew my mind enough for me to always remember that read with fond memories. I have forgotten how I stumbled upon this earlier publication from the author. But something made me hit the one-click purchase button and there I was, burning the midnight oil.

Amanda Sedgewick has been in a predicament for more than half her life, and one that has proven difficult to shake off at every turn. That is Joseph Matthias Barrington (Joe)’s brother’s affections. No matter how many times Amanda has tried telling him that she wasn’t the one for him, Dr. Avery Barrington, III wouldn’t hear of it. So desperate times calling for desperate measures, Amanda seeks the help of the rougher around the edges than Avery, the blue-collar variety brother of his to engage with her in an affair that would keep Avery away from her – for good.

Joe knows a bad idea when he hears of one and sees one. But the desperation in Amanda’s eyes makes him say yes – to playing pretend boyfriend until the very first night they get together, Amanda completely blows his mind. From that moment on, Joe, who has given up trying to measure up to the brilliance that is his brother, turns over a new leaf. For him, becoming the sort of man that “deserves” a woman like Amanda is the goal that he hopes to attain.

For some reason, this story made confusing  turns that made it difficult for me to follow. One minute, Amanda was willing to indulge in the hottest affair of her life with Joe, the next she was busy trying to prove her worth in her career. Joe was the only one who made any kind of sense to me. And boy, was he deliciousness itself!

The simmering tension between Joe and Amanda is pretty low key until wham, with just one scene Kathleen O’Reilly literally blew my mind to smithereens! You’ve got to read this book, if only to experience the heat that that particular scene alone generated. Whew! Let me just say this. Joe was decadent!

Recommended, if you are up for a confusing story line, but one that nevertheless made me burn the midnight oil.

Final Verdict: Joe’s decadent nature makes this book worth a look!

Favorite Quotes

“We don’t have to pretend, Joe.”
“Yes. We do.”
She flashed him a gentle, comforting smile. “No. We don’t.”
“Yes. We do.”
Amanda moved in closer. “We could do torrid, you know.”
“No.”
“Hot.” She licked her lips, getting into this femme fatale persona. The courtroom had never been this exciting.
“No.” The denial sounded a little strained.
“I could make you forget your name.”
“You’re Avery’s girl. That’s all I need to remember.”

Amanda held his arm. “Stay, just a little bit longer.”
“Can’t. Look, I’ve got a few hours off on Saturday. I’ll call you and we’ll do something then.”
“Have sex?”
Just for that, he kissed her again. “Amanda. I’m shocked.” He tried to keep his tone light, but if he sounded like he was completely turned-on, well, there it was.
Her cool blue eyes flashed at him. Damn, she looked good when she was angry. “I don’t want you shocked, I want you aroused.”
Like lightning, he had her pressed against the wall. Locked together from breasts to thighs, he made sure she felt every tortured inch of him. “You don’t think I want you? You think I’ve been killing myself to keep from touching you—” he laughed “—God, I can’t even do that right.”

He cradled her body with his own, grazing his lips over her neck. She rubbed against him, and gentleman that he was, he locked his hands on her hips and pushed against her. His erection was hard and insistent, and she licked her lips, her eyes drifting shut.
Her legs started to shake, threatening collapse, but he held her tight. There was something incredible about the way he smelled. All musky and male. Each time she moved, he answered. Each time he moved, she moaned.

He kissed her neck, whispering in her ear, in slow, exquisite detail exactly what he was going to do to her. What he wanted to do with her right here. Right under the watchful eyes of everyone around them.
Oh.
She chewed on her lip, ready to scream. When his thumb brushed against her, she felt her muscles shake and spasm. He covered her mouth with his own. That was all she could take. She closed her eyes, and watched the world shatter.
And he kissed away her cries.

One. Two. He was back. “I can’t wait,” he said, taking her lips in a quick kiss.
She fumbled with his briefs. “Now.”
He sheathed himself with shaking fingers. “I wanted this to be slow,” he said, lifting her.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, needing to feel him inside her. “Later.”
He took one step forward, braced her against the door, she locked her hands around his nape.

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

favorableread

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Make Me by Tessa Bailey

Format: E-bookMakeMe
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: New Adult Romance
Series: Broke and Beautiful, #3
Publisher: Avon Impulse
Hero: Russell Hart
Heroine: Abby Sullivan
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: August 11, 2015
Started On: October 18, 2015
Finished On: October 21, 2015

Anyone who loves Tessa Bailey’s books knows what one can do for you. How it can mess you up in ways you never thought possible. Which is why I started reading the Broke and Beautiful series even though I am not much of a fan of the New Adult genre; though if Tessa writes them, I am definitely reading them. Though I missed out on the first book in the series (perhaps I will get around to reading it one of these days – a girl can always hope), I became an avid fan of the series from the moment Ben (the hero from the second book in the series), walked into MY life. Yes, my life. Note the possessive edge!

One cannot read either of the books in the Broke and Beautiful series without being invested in all of the characters. Thus, my heart was clamoring for the story of Russell, oh the big bad Russell, from the moment I laid my eyes on him. The man is a walking talking temptation unto womenkind if ever there was one. Well, of course after MY Ben of course! Abby and Russell’s friendship is one reason why Russell keeps his hands off of his precious Abby. Another being his past – a past that has screwed him up enough to believe that he would never measure up to someone like Abby.

Abby’s past wasn’t a walk in the park on a breezy Sunday morning either. A genius at numbers, something she inherited from her father, Abby’s life defines the word loneliness, until she finds a friendship of the kind she never thought possible with Honey and Roxy, and of course the three gorgeous men that relationship had brought into her life, one of them being Russell, the friend that she can always count on. Abby’s perspective of Russell as the friend she never had takes a dive when a set of events makes her take notice of the man he is – the man who sets her senses reeling, panties wet, and sets an ache tumbling through her that cannot be denied.

Russell is a man who can take torture, and I mean torture of the kind a lesser man would crumble from. But his heart doesn’t allow him to take that step, until of course there is no way that he CANNOT give into the passion between him and Abby. And then comes the heartache. Sigh! While I wanted to give Russell a bit of a good shaking until the chips in his head aligned just right so that he could see what preciousness that he was throwing away by playing noble, I wasn’t too happy with Abby for not realizing that for a man like Russell, the friend who would lay down his life for her – there must have been something that would cause him to behave as such.

But worry not ladies. If anything, Tessa Bailey knows how to write a mean ending and of course makes you pant your way to the finish line! And I mean literally pant your way through it because with all that heat? You won’t have a choice!

Recommended for fans of the series and fans of Tessa Bailey. Though not my favorite, Make Me still delivered a good read!

Final Verdict: Hot dayum!!

Favorite Quotes

Abby didn’t realize she’d closed her eyes until Russell’s heavy tread forced them open, and she saw him standing in her doorway.
Shirtless. Damp. Jeans sitting low on his hips.
A red-hot fist formed beneath her belly button. For Russell? She tried to shoot into a sitting position so fast, the back of her head bashed against the headboard, which really didn’t help her confusion. Not a bit. She wasn’t supposed to notice Russell in that way, right? But when a water droplet rolled down the center of his abdomen and vanished into the waistband of his jeans, she noticed. And she noticed good.

When the orgasm crested over her, Abby’s heels dug into the mattress to push herself back into the welcoming strength of his body, bearing down on his pleasure-giving hand at the same time. And God, even with the wicked climax turning her inside out, she wanted to feel his erection against her backside. Wanted to tempt him to do something about relieving the hunger she sensed in him. Already, his movements were growing uneven, staggered, his breathing ragged at the back of her neck.
“Yes,” he grated. “That’s how I make you come. Hard as fuck when you’re in my bed. That’s the way I do it.”

Long seconds of Abby’s studying his face had passed, as if she could discern what was taking place in his head when even he didn’t have a fucking clue. Those eyes were obscured a moment by her eyelashes, and Russell could feel that gaze move over his erect cock where it tented his jeans, then shoot back up. Hexpected surprise, maybe more confusion. Instead, he got relief and excitement. No. Not that. He couldn’t handle that.
Her sweet, ripe tits rose and fell on a shudder. “I’m sorry I used the situation to my advantage, Russell. It was wrong of m—”
He kissed Abby. Abby. He . . . kissed Abby.

“Abby, attraction is a weak-ass term for what’s going on here. It doesn’t begin to describe what I’d like to do to you.”
“Wh-which is?”
He placed his mouth against her ear, the truth coming out on a rush of breath. “I’d like to bang your little virgin brains out.”

“Come on, I’ll walk you to the train.”
Sti cazza. In another, more appropriate term, screw this. With a silent prayer for courage, Abby found the hem of her sundress and peeled the garment over her head, letting it fall to the floor. “I’m not ready to leave yet.”
[…]
Doubts fell from her consciousness like a cup of overturned paper clips when Russell stalked forward, prowling across the room and shifting the air around her. This impulsive disrobing had started as an act of rebellion, but now a furnace blast hit her head to toe. The raindrops pelted the window in time with her jumping pulse. The fierceness in his eyes told her to expect being pinned against the wall again, but it never happened. Instead, he fell to his knees in front of her, gripped her bottom . . .
And buried his face between her thighs.

Abby buried her fingernails into his ass, her thighs beginning to tremble around him. “I’m going to . . . oh my God, don’t stop. I’m . . .”
Russell dropped his head forward and closed his eyes, putting all his focus into staying right where the fuck he was, not deviating from what was pushing her toward a climax. Just a little longer. Just a little—
“Russell.”
Holy shit. His eyes flew open in time to witness Abby’s tits shaking between them, her teeth buried into her bottom lip as she arched on the chair. Her heels had a firm hold at the small of his back as she rode it out, her pussy squeezing him in tiny spasms that he would crave like air for the rest of his time on earth.

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

goodread

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Behind the Mask by Carolyn Crane

Format: E-bookbehindthemask
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: The Associates, #4
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Hugo Martinez
Heroine: Zelda
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: May 18, 2015
Started On: October 01, 2015
Finished On: October 12, 2015

Ever since I saw a tweet from Carolyn Crane about the release of the 4th installment in The Associates series, I’d been hankering to read it. Behind the Mask is written using one of my favorite tropes, a hero who is dark and edgy, living in isolation and the heroine who comes along, understands him for all that he is & shakes up his life while she is at it. Carolyn Crane is not an author who writes fluffy romances, well at least the books in this series aren’t for the fainthearted. There is only so much of the lighthearted variety of romances that I can take. With the romance genre becoming increasingly filled with fluffy reads, an author like Carolyn Crane who can still stand firm in delivering a read of the sort is a heaven-send for a reader like myself.

Zelda the heroine is actually the silent founding partner of The Associates. A forensic botanist who had served in the CIA, Zelda had retired from the field given how her last mission had gone awry. She returns to the field by her own volition, given that it is her twin sister who would take the fall if otherwise. But things don’t go exactly according to plan and Zelda finds herself confronted with the image of the very man she had spent a better part of her career at CIA tracking down – the infamous Kabakas; a near mythical assassin whose prowess had been legendary.

Hugo Martinez lives up on the crumbling mountaintop villa with the beautiful blood red savinca flowers around his property, with the young boy Paolo that he’d rescued on a mission for companionship. Hugo is a hard man, driven to lead the life he lives after he had been “forced” into retirement. But Hugo is prepared to protect his precious mountaintop villa and surrounding village at any cost, even if it means the infamous Kabakas has to make a comeback.

Taking Zelda as the “captive” who would cook for them might not have been one of his brightest ideas, but then again, the way his soul recognized Zelda from the very first moment is one that he cannot turn away from. Zelda has her mission’s agenda which needs to be fulfilled, but the very thought of turning traitor to Hugo makes her want to hurt someone. The slow awakening of Zelda and Hugo’s awareness for one another, the events that propel Hugo to claim her – those were aspects of the novel that I absolutely could not get enough of.

Romance writing has become such a competitive genre that authors seldom write on those tropes that actually made readers like myself fall in love with the genre in the first place. Everyone wants something modern, something relevant to the current times, something with an edge to be the book they come out with. But there is nothing wrong with using a trope that droves of readers love and adding a twist to it that would make it relevant in today’s circles. In my opinion, the best of romances are those that are able to withstand the test of time. And I wish there were more authors who actually wrote romances as such.

Behind the Mask was a novel that I immensely enjoyed; if you can’t tell that already from the gushy bits and pieces you’ve already read from the review, I’m just putting it out there – I loved Behind the Mask! Carolyn Crane is an author who writes well. Her books are highly readable, her heroes are of the dark and tortured variety and her heroines are ones who can take all that darkness and then some. Hugo and Zelda’s journey towards the happily ever after was filled with dark and horrific moments that most readers might like to forget – but that is in essence what gives this book the edge that makes it the awesome read it is!

I loved, loved, loved Hugo. He is so lovingly crafted that it’s almost as if I could feel the proverbial key strokes that created and wrote him down for this book. Fanciful, I know. Yet, that’s how Hugo’s character came off to me. Beautiful. Lonely. Lost. Hungry. Lethal. And even all those words barely does him justice.

When Zelda was first introduced in the book, I thought that I wouldn’t like her overly much. I like strong heroines, but not the kind that tends to overshadow the hero in her attempt to appear as his equal or more. I was totally wrong in my line of thinking because Zelda turned out to be just perfect. In her vulnerabilities, the way she couldn’t help but be affected by Hugo, the way she actually wanted to and needed to make a difference in Hugo’s life. All that spoke to me on a level that had me rooting for her in a big way.

I simply love the fact that Carolyn’s books are dark. The dark of the variety that I adore. Loved the moments of cocooned intimacy between Hugo and Zelda, the time that gave them the opportunity to be drawn towards one another. Hugo’s bewilderment about feeling so deeply about her was adorable. The way he couldn’t keep his hands off of her just outright hot. And as the reader, I just couldn’t get enough.

To finish up, Dax seems like a fine piece of work to contend with. Can’t wait to see what Carolyn puts his dark and tormented soul through to give him a happily ever after!

Final Verdict: Beautifully savage in its rendition. Spoke right to my heart!

Favorite Quotes

“You’re okay,” she whispered, dipping two fingers into the cool salve. Gently she slicked it onto the pinkest, most inflamed-looking skin.
Much to her surprise, he allowed it. Maybe the pain outweighed everything else. He turned back to the fire, breath ragged, as she stroked the salve across his tormented flesh.
She’d thought of Kabakas as many things over the years, but never as a suffering being. Never as an old friend. So human, so compelling.
So fucking beautiful.

“Shhhh,” he said.
She gasped as he pushed his fingers inside her now, thumb stroking her taut nub. He would not take her; he would make her feel good. It was all he wanted now—just that.
He stroked her to a rhythm that matched her soft breath. He could always feel when a woman’s body became his, control switching over, pleasure building.
Mercilessly he drew his rough fingers through her tender folds. She felt like molten silk, and his touch was a tide, pulling her out to sea.

He grumbled about it being a long day, but seeing Paolo play in front of the fire, being a boy in a way that Hugo never had, it made him want to hold him, to care for him.
It was Paolo he wanted to hold, yes, but maybe, just a little bit, it was Hugo’s younger self.
Hugo left, holding his boy to his breaking heart. All these years. It would’ve been so easy to play with him.
So easy to call him by his name.

“He pumped into her slowly, breathing her secrets with his cock. “I’m here,” he whispered as he shoved into her, devouring her. She squeezed her pussy as he thrust, trying to make herself feel extra tight, trying to take over. But he wouldn’t go on autopilot. He wouldn’t get lost. He would stay with her. Keep her there, present and gasping.
“Corazón,” he groaned. He kissed her all over her face and neck as he fucked her.
He fucked her like he cared. Like he was fucking her instead of just fucking. Like a waterfall of dangerous feeling crashing right through her.

“Your hands. At the end.” She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss.
Desire surged through him. He’d never wanted anybody more. He flattened her against the wall and kissed her, probing at the seam of her lips with his tongue, knife flat between them.
“Say it again,” she said.
“Zelda,” he grated out. “Zelda.”
He would say it forever, because she was no longer Liza. She was a warrior, his equal, and his enemy.
He kissed the side of her neck and pressed his killer’s body into her.
“Yes,” she said.
And he was lost.

This man, he was so beautiful. Her quarry for so long. “Kabakas,” she gasped, feeling the rising swell of pleasure.
With a wild, tortured look carved onto his harsh features, he pressed his thumbs into her windpipe, cutting off speech, breath. She tried to suck in a breath but it wouldn’t come. She coughed and fought, instinct taking over at last. He tightened his hold on her as he fucked her and choked her, thrusting on and on. The edges of her vision went hazy as she began to come. The orgasm swept through her like fire, filling her head with stars and shattering her mind. She was plummeting, spinning, dissolving into pure pleasure and darkness—perfectly blameless, perfectly free.

“Hugo—”
“Quiet, or I will gag you again. All day I have imagined taking you, making you come over and over and over.” Her blood raced as he pushed her head to the other side, working symmetrically. “When you sucked in my fingers, I imagined them inside you.”
He turned off the water and pulled her up by her hair.
She opened her eyes to see him behind her in the mirror, holding her wet hair, focused down on her with a level of intensity that felt frighteningly primal.
“And I imagined that I would make you come screaming. After that I would take you.” His words came out in gusts. “I can wait no longer.” The furrow between his eyes looked deeper, his cheekbones more sharp-cut, more ruthless somehow. Her killer, her lover.

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

awesomeread

by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Seducing Seven by M.K. Meredith

Format: E-bookseducingseven
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: What Happens in Vegas, #9
Publisher: Entangled Publishing
Hero: Blake Turner
Heroine: Sevannah Michaels
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: October 12, 2015
Started On: October 06, 2015
Finished On: October 12, 2015

The 9th installment in the What Happens in Vegas series from Entangled Publishing features Seducing Seven from the new-to-me author MK Meredith. Sevannah Michaels is a romance author who is in Vegas for the Romance Lover’s Convention when she runs into Blake Turner, someone who is as ambitious as they come. Fate throws Blake in Sevannah’s way, at a time when she needs help to get out from an awkward situation. The sizzle that is felt on both their parts towards one another is one that is inconvenient at best, given that Blake shuns the very idea of romance and happily ever after and that just sets Sevannah’s teeth on edge.

A bet is reached, that Sevannah would make Blake fall for her before the weekend is through. For Blake, an easier bet could not have happened along, but if he were to be honest with himself, the way he is tempted to give in to Sevannah is one that has him questioning everything that he has believed up till now. So thus Blake resists with every fiber of his being from giving in, afraid to even face the prospect that he might be having feelings for Sevannah. For Sevannah, the dilemma is even greater. She has to face the harsh truth of who is actually seducing whom and who was winning, because from where she is sitting, it looks like she was losing, and what a way to lose!

Seducing Seven is a romance that features a likable hero and a heroine who grows on you as the story goes on. At first I was of the mind that Sevannah was just a tad too sure of herself. I sensed a bit of arrogance in the way she thought about herself and that didn’t sit well with me. Well, that lasted for a very short period of time because once I started seeing Sevannah through Blake’s eyes, I saw someone entirely different. Someone sweet, someone who gives as good as she gets, someone who is simply true to who she is and has the courage to face her fears – even be it she might end up with a tattered and broken heart.

Blake makes for a delicious hero. He is handsome, a tad arrogant about how good looking he is, but beneath all that lies a vulnerable core that makes itself known by the time the story is done. What I found a trifle bit odd was the character of the old woman who resided on the same floor of the hotel as Sevannah and Blake. I just couldn’t understand the significance of her role in the story.

Recommended for those that love a lighthearted contemporary romance.

Final Verdict: A romance author who dares a cynic to fall in love; light & fluffy with just the right touch of angst!

Favorite Quotes

He pressed her up against the wall, grinding into her, hoping to relieve the pressure, his dick swelling thicker still, and he growled low in his throat.
The twin thumps of her shoes hitting the floor sounded, and Seven slid her tongue along his lower lip and sucked it into her mouth.
His knees buckled, and he pressed into her more fully to gain some stability. “Fuck.”
“I’m trying.” She smiled against his mouth, then trailed her lips along his neck to his earlobe, biting with a gentle tug, sending shivers down his spine.

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

favorableread

by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Bear Meets Girl by Shelly Laurenston

Format: E-bookbearmeetsgirl
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy Romance
Series: Pride, #7
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp
Hero: Lou “Crush” Crushek
Heroine: Marcella “Bare Knuckles” Malone
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: March 27, 2012
Started On: September 23, 2015
Finished On: September 27, 2015

Bear Meets Girl by Shelly Laurenston was a tough read for me to get into. There were those multiple conversation threads that I got lost in and the various characters that appeared out of nowhere which plunged me further into the abyss. I have read a lot of books midway into a series and still managed to get the gist of the characters involved without much of a problem. And those reads have at times even persuaded me to pick up a book that was published before that particular book in the series. But alas, Bear Meets Girl wasn’t one of those reads.

Lou “Crush” Crushek wakes up from a party, not his usual lifestyle mind you, wrapped up in the arms of a woman who instantly puts him on the edge. Marcella “Bare Knuckles” Malone (Cella) can’t help but have a little fun with the uptight polar bear until it all comes to the point where Cella is the one in need of Crush’s help to keep her well meaning family’s ministrations to help find her a “suitable” mate at a minimum.

Amid all this, there is some plot to hurt the bear population, Crush becoming a part of a new police force from his usual undercover work that has him going down in a bit of a spiral towards depression. Crush and Cella are two very contrasting characters, perhaps reason why I was drawn towards the book in the first place after reading the blurb. Cella, while is all out outrageous, Crush is the opposite. Someone who likes to keep to himself, who considers his home the haven of quiet & solitude that he requires after coming home from work. Cella and Crush do make the right fit, but I just couldn’t find myself all that interested in the rest of the story that was happening.

I skimmed through more than half of the story to just read the bits where Crush and Cella are together. Their dialogues with each other were refreshing. Their connection towards each other interesting, something that the author could have worked a bit more on to make the story more enticing. Because the rest of the stuff that was happening in the story just made my head whirl.

So given all the things that didn’t work for me in the book, one might ask, why did I still trudge on through the story? Well, there’s a magic to Shelly Laurenston’s writing that always makes me request her books even though the stories seem to come wrapped in a whole lot of characters and interactions between them, that tends to take away the focus from the main couple in the story. Which I seldom like, if at all. Bear Meets Girl having the exact same problem shouldn’t be a surprise, but then I keep hoping that this would be the time I would be proven wrong. I couldn’t skim through the rest of the chunks of the story fast enough to get to the bits where Crush and Cella were the focus. They make for a great combination. There’s enough spark, charm & adorableness to their coming together that makes it hard not to fall in love with them.

In my opinion, Bear Meets Girl is too seeped in details of all else that’s going on that it detracts the reader from the most alluring factor of the story; the couple in question & how their coming together works. I’m not saying other characters & scenes are not required to make a story more wholesome. No. It’s just that when a story gets bogged down with too much of past characters & extended family & whatnot, the reader who spontaneously picks up a book to read in the middle of a series can get a little lost in the midst of it all.

Recommended for fans of the author & fans of the Pride series.

Final Verdict: Bear Meets Girl; a story worth trudging through only because of Crush and Cella.

Favorite Quotes

She invaded his mouth with her tongue, fingers digging deep into the back of his neck and head, kind of holding him there. Crush’s entire body loosened, his arms falling away from his chest and to his sides, then reaching around her waist and pulling her off the chair. The chair ended up be- tween them, so Crush kicked it out of the way. Keeping a solid grip on her, he returned her kiss. But he wanted more.
Without thought to anything but the demands of his body, Crush pushed her up against his refrigerator, his body pin- ning hers there. He let his hands slip from around her waist and travel up until they could grip her breasts, fingers squeezing while his thumbs circled her nipples through her shirt and bra. Her entire body shook and then her hands were pressed against his chest, pushing him back.

Malone turned, saw them, and ran over. When she was about ten feet from Crush, she launched herself at him, hit- ting him hard, her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms around his neck. “Hi!”
“H—”
She didn’t let him finish, her mouth pressing against his, arms tightening around his neck. And for those few seconds Crush forgot about everyone else.
When she finally pulled her mouth away, Crush still had his eyes closed.
“I’m glad you came.”
Wait. He had? When?
“I was afraid you were going to bail on me.”
Oh! Came as in attend. Got it. He was there. He was okay.
He could handle this. Her. Whatever.
“I promised.”
“You did.” Still wrapped around him, she leaned back a
bit and gave him a once-over. “You’re kind of overdressed.” “I see that now.”

He wasn’t sure, but then she leaned in, sniffed his neck, and gently scraped a fang across his jugular. The last of Crush’s restraint snapped, his hands tightening around her waist. He lifted her up, pulled her in closer, and while staring into her eyes, slammed her down hard on his cock, at the same time bringing up his hips.
The feline roared, her head dropping back, her arms wrapping around his neck. She held on tight, breathing in deep and taking a moment before she looked at him.
Panting hard, they watched each other.
“Well,” she sighed, “that does feel good.”

She knew what he was doing, the tricky bastard. With every twist and tug and tease of her breast, her pussy tightened around his cock like a vise. His growling grew harsher, louder, and the vibration of it against her flesh had her nearly out of her mind. She panted, she mewled, she might have hissed a few times. Then she was coming. Coming so very hard that she cried out.
The bear lifted his head to gaze at her with those black eyes.
“You all right?” And she wondered if he realized he was still growling at her.
Unable to answer since she was still panting, Cella nod- ded.
“Good.” Remaining inside her, Crush slowly stood, releasing her arms so that he could carefully lift her legs and drape them over his forearms. “ ’Cause I’m not really done yet.”

“I need you to calm down, ma’am.”
Cella’s body began to shake, her knees weakening. “What is this?” he asked, fingers pressing, stroking. “Can
you tell me, ma’am? It’s better you come clean now rather than let me find out later. I can help you now.”
She shook her head, unable to find any words with her body unraveling.
“I don’t think you’re listening to me, ma’am.” He sighed, shook his head. “That’s a real shame.”
Cella didn’t know what he was saying, what was going on. She only knew what she felt and what she felt was that monumental orgasm ripping through her, so strong, she nearly threw the three-hundred-pound bear off her.

While Cella tried to get her breath back, the bear removed the cuffs, his hands rubbing her wrists. He stretched out on the floor and Cella collapsed on top of him. They lay in silence for long minutes until Cella admitted, “You have the biggest cock . . .”
Crush laughed, his hand slipping into her hair, massaging her scalp. “Why, thank you.”
“Just felt I should share that.”
“I have to admit, Cella, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of your after-sex pronouncements.”

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

averageread.png

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Flowers from the Storm by Laura Kinsale

Format: E-bookflowersfromthestorm
Read with: Scribd for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Harper Collins
Hero: Christian Richard Nicholas Francis Langland
Heroine: Archimedea Timms
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: May 27, 2003
Started On: September 10, 2015
Finished On: September 14, 2015

Flowers from the Storm by Laura Kinsale is a book I attempted to read in my quest to go through the books in one of the AAR Top 100 Romances lists I found way back, the year of the list which I have forgotten. While I went in expecting a novel that would of course sweep me off my feet, I didn’t bargain on a read that would send my emotions in all directions, making me wonder whether I should have at times thrown the book at the wall or hugged it close to my heart. Because I think that pretty much sums up my emotions when I was lost in the story that Flowers from the Storm delivered.

For those newbies like myself to the novel, Flowers from the Storm stars the rakish hero Christian Richard Nicholas Francis Langland, His Grace the Duke of Jervaulx, Earl of Langland and Viscount Glade. By rakish, I mean that Christian is the type of man who has no qualms about sleeping with a married woman, impregnating her, nor much care for what the society thinks of him. His one and only passion apart from being as notorious as they come with the ladies, lies in the field of Mathematics, an interest that he keeps close to his heart.

Archimedea Timms (Maddy) is a of the Quaker faith, something which I came to know of only when I encountered Maddy’s character and her “odd” ways in the novel. Conservative to the bone in the way she was brought up, Maddy’s faith dictates all the ways of her life. Companion to her father John Timms who himself is a Mathematics enthusiast, it is through this shared connection between Maddy’s father and Christian that Maddy crosses paths with Christian. However their “acquaintanceship” is a short lived one because an event of significant impact that occurs in Christian’s life sends him away, leaving everyone to think he had died, until Maddy encounters him months later, at the asylum that is run by her cousin Dr. Edward.

When Maddy’s paths crosses that with Christian’s, Maddy finds herself unable to walk away from the man that is chained to his current existence in more ways than one. Maddy answers to her God’s calling so to speak, when determinedly pursuing Christian’s path to recovery, hindered altogether too much by Christian’s wayward emotions together with that of the leave that Maddy’s senses take, every time she is in close quarters with Christian.

One thing leads to another & before she knows it, Maddy finds herself married to Christian, going against every major tenet of her belief system, against everything she has known and holds dear to her heart. Her existence with Christian is one fraught with desires of the kind that Maddy has been sheltered from all her life. The extravagance of Christian’s life, not to mention the treacherous game she has to play with Christian’s family that would rather see his determined spirit locked up is one that eats away at Maddy’s soul, day in and day out. Until it all comes to its explosive conclusion which left a thousand different feelings coursing right through me.

There were times that I wanted to shake Maddy, times that she made me grit my teeth and trudge on. All because her belief system, the very core of her existence which had been her life up till Christian entered into it was one that prevented her from going all in when it comes to him. I wanted Maddy to throw away everything she had known, abandon ship and jump right on board with Christian. But then again, I knew deep in my heart that that wouldn’t have delivered half the emotion and realism that Maddy’s character lent to the story. Once all was said and done, I was grateful for Laura Kinsale for penning Maddy, for giving readers a character that threw my emotions all over the place. Because that is in essence what great storytelling does to a reader.

Christian was of course, easy to fall in love with. Easy to relate to. And oh how my heart wept for what happened to him. But his sheer determination to do right by his wife is one that had me stand up and cheer him on. In a journey that was fraught with danger of the kind that actually had my skin crawling. Not because bad guys were out and about with their pistols blazing. But because the danger was too close to home in the case of Christian. And I for one hyperventilated at the thought of him going back into a life of captivity, the fire inside of him extinguished day by day until even the embers of his soul are too tired to put up a fight. There were so many times that I wanted to Google and find out what had happened to him, what had rendered him to become so. A thousand times I waited for a miracle to happen, for him to just get all better. But then Laura Kinsale proved me wrong and delivered something better. And that is the sense of realism that I am talking about when it comes to Flowers from the Storm.

Flowers from the Storm is for readers who want to go beyond your usual variety of romances where the rake reforms overnight and the heroine just goes along with it like it was meant to be. There is so much more happening in the story, all of it intricately woven to give readers something that they would carry with them for the rest of their lives. Kudos Laura Kinsale. For you certainly deserve it after delivering a read this explosive to the mind, heart and soul.

Utmostly recommended!

Final Verdict: Flowers from the Storm is a novel that changes you. Dare you to find out for yourself!

Favorite Quotes

His mouth hovered near hers. Even if she had tried to step back, she couldn’t have, without kittens toppling in all directions. She felt herself entrapped by it, frozen into place by him.
He brushed his mouth against hers, so lightly and briefly that it was a mere breath, a warmth, a touch and then gone before her lips parted to object. He was smiling at them, at her, holding kittens at her ears, caressing the protesting animals along her cheeks. She sucked in a quick breath as pins burrowed into her forehead and the kitten on top tried to scamper down her nose.

The whistle slipped from his fingers. She felt it bounce against her breasts as his mouth came to hers. He touched her as the silver had touched her, just a light graze, but warm.
He took modesty and virtue and salvation away from her so easily. She gave it up so easily.
She stood washed in the sensation of his featherlight contact against her lips, his breath mingling with hers. It seemed as if God’s light within her must be shining bright, filling her with wonder. This man, his eyes closed, dark lashes so frivolously long as they rested against his skin: even his eyelashes were unholy in their opulence.

She felt her own will leap up to meet his. Her mouth opened; he answered instantly with a deep and ardent union. His hands drew downward, closing as he leaned into her, bracing his forearms on the door.
He enveloped her. The feel of his kiss was strange and painful and electric. Her hands opened helplessly, trying to find something to touch that wasn’t him, but everything was him: all the solid reality within reach.
He opened his palms and smoothed her hair—sweetly, over and over like a parent would touch a child—at the same time that he kissed her, pressing hard against her, a forceful intercourse of their mouths and bodies.

The duke looked up at Maddy. He swept his hand over the formula her father had completed, where the value for the earth’s distance from the sun was multiplied by numbers half a million times greater than itself to reach the realms of their new geometry.
“Stars,” he said, his face alight with passion. “In… finity.”
And he smiled at her as if he owned it: distance and space and stars and infinity… as if he owned her, too.

A scarlet petal floated downward, avoided the brim of her bonnet and caught on her shoulder.
The scrap of crimson lay there, close to the pale curve of her throat, between the stark collar and the tight upward sweep of her hair. Christian reached out and caught the petal between his fingers. She held stiff, breathing like a frightened doe. He let the moment spin out, his hand suspended near her cheek, not quite touching—not quite, not quite—a whisper away, a restraint as intimate as a kiss.
Color flooded her cheeks. Expectation. Her eyes, those eyes that turned hazel to gold under wanton lashes; her eyes held terror and wonder.
He stepped back and set her free.

Her braid lay over her shoulder and their hands. He toyed with the tip of it. He held it in one fist and ran his thumb against it. The single strand of hair, the tiny thread that she’d looped tight to hold it—the strand broke, and the plait came free.
He made a sound, low and hot. And then he released her—before she could find herself in his embrace, before she could say what it felt like—only that he was solid and tall and heated and catastrophic, only that she felt bare and hollow when he let her go.

She lifted her chin and kissed him back.
He had been her teacher: she knew how to taste his mouth, search the corners while he grew still, his lips parting a little. His body seemed to respond with a slow tautness, a tightening over her; his hands pressed into her skin. Yet he lay motionless, suspended, his mouth acquiescent to hers, as if his whole concentration was on what it felt like. His lips opened more with each contact, allowing her to seek further—inviting it.
She touched him with her tongue. He was foreign and familiar, so close and yet so strange to her. A nobleman, with fairies and Welshmen and kings in his history, lord of this hall and castle, but most alien and potent of all: a man.

He locked his hands with hers and spread them out on the cold stone. His signet ring drove into her finger, caught between his hand and hers, painful pressure down to the bone, but she wanted it. She wanted it there, as she wanted him. Everything inside her arched upward to meet his kiss. It seemed that she had been bound up, held tight by threads that he had broken with a touch.
She heard herself, like a whimpering child, moaning with the terrible pleasure of it. She moved; she could not help it, taking the rhythm that he gave her with his tongue, arching to find more.

“Maddy,” he said, between hard breaths, “make you…glad. I swear.”
She smoothed her hand down his shoulder and his back. She could feel his heart beating. He shuddered again and pushed himself closer to her.
“I’ll make you glad,” he repeated.
She bit her lip, resting her head against his.
He turned his face deeper into her. “Black Guard won’t get you,” he said, muffled.
Stop. Oh, stop, say stop, but it’s too late.
Too late. Because God forgive me, I love thee more than my own life.

He lifted his head from the carpet to suckle her. She moved with awkward exquisite jerks, writhing, until he cupped his hands at her buttocks and taught her the rhythm, her hair sliding between his palms and her skin. With a lovely suddenness, she came— with little female cries, like an unquiet dreamer: he brought his arms up around her and held her close for an instant—then with one deep thrust, holding her hips down to take it, he let go of the lust he’d kept dammed inside him.
When it was finished he held her hard against his chest and never closed his eyes— to make it real, and banish nightmares in the firelight.

She sat looking down at her lap desk. She fiddled with the corner of the paper, rolling it up, and then unrolling it. “Christian,” she said, watching her fingers. “Wouldst thou please come tonight?”
For a moment he didn’t do anything. Then he steepled his hands and lifted his head from the back of the chair, resting his chin on the tips of his fingers, gazing at her.
“Why wait?” He smiled. “I’m here…now.”

She gave him a push. The book slid down; he held it out behind him and let it fall with a flutter and thump as he leaned forward to kiss her mouth. He caught her body in his hands, his thumbs passing provocatively over her breasts, caressing the tips, back and forth. The feel of it drew a liquid arching, a breath and a pressing flex of all her muscles toward him.
“Want me?” he whispered, licentious, the Devil at her ear in full daylight: a man’s firm elegant hands on her body, blue eyes and long dusky beautiful eyelashes.

He pulled her petticoat and dress higher, cupping her hips and her buttocks with his bare hands. He made a rough, ardent sound near her ear. He bit her, hurt her, kneading her body in his palms, but it was sweet pain and sinful ecstasy. She felt him release his own buttons; his hard male part pushed and pressed, and she began to pant in desperate guilty excitement.
Like stone melting, her body slackened, her legs allowed him between. The sound of his breath was caustic, an animal engine, brushing heat across her nakedness. He pressed her hips, a rash hard grip of his fingers, making her close her legs on his shaft.

“Want me?” His voice was grinding, insistent, taut with extremity. “Maddy… inside you.”
She bit her lip, her face turned aside to the wall. “I want thee,” she said, on a sob. “I want thee.”
And he showed her how, then. How to bend and submit for him, in bondage to him, in daylight, sinking together on their knees to the floor, with him deep inside her, over her and around her, his hands holding her breasts, his mouth against the nape of her neck—lost in him and in his coupling with her. She cried out with violent joy at the height, her voice mingling with his masculine groan: the two of them no more, and no less, than every wild creature that God had made of clay to walk the earth.

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

amazingread

by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Midnight Fire by Lisa Marie Rice

Format: E-bookmidnightfire
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Men of Midnight, #4
Publisher: Carina Press
Hero: Jack Delvaux
Heroine: Summer Redding
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: September 21, 2015
Started On: September 14, 2015
Finished On: September 18, 2015

Summer Redding is the owner of the political blog/webzine called Area 8. With both her parents dead and being an only child, Summer leads an almost solitary existence. No men that entered into her life since her non-relationship with Jack Delvaux, who was killed in a terrorist attack that had rocked Washington DC, had ever measured up to her expectations. That is exactly who she runs into at a funeral that she would rather not have attended.

For the past six months, Jack had gone underground, disappeared by hiding in plain sight, all for one reason. To bring the perpetrators of the Washington Massacre to justice. Not your usual run of the mill variety of terrorists that mostly hail from Arabic origins. But homegrown and bred terrorists, possibly within the organization that he had dedicated a huge percent of his adult life to serving, i.e. the Central Intelligence Agency.

When Jack and Summer’s paths cross, Jack has no other choice but to come clean. Summer would have thought that given how things had ended with them previously, she would be immune to the tougher & much harder version of the golden boy she had fallen for so hard, years back. What Jack feels for Summer takes him by surprise as well. The feeling of being at home with Summer is one that is foreign to him, but one he realizes that is fates way of giving him a chance to work things out this time around.

When the bad guys come calling for Summer, all bets are off and once again the men from the previous books in the Midnight and Men of Midnight series get together to hunt and root out the bad guys before the fate of the entire country ends up at the mercy of the enemy that wants America to fall. And fall hard.

Midnight Fire is a book that holds the remnants & whispers of the Lisa Marie Rice that I used to know and love. There is a strong alpha hero of course. And then there’s the good sex; this time around on an airplane! The only thing that perhaps was different was the heroine Summer, who was feisty in her own little ways. Not the usually demure type of heroine that Lisa Marie Rice is famous for. For one thing Summer is strong and independent, but that doesn’t mean she is stupid enough to walk into disaster. One thing that stood out for me in this story was how Jack leveled with Summer when danger came calling, how he had just told her how things stood rather than ordering her to stay put. That spoke to me on a level that I wouldn’t have thought possible, but there it was.

Summer and Jack are both likable characters, but I wouldn’t say that there was anything extraordinary about them that touched me except for the fact that they both have the zeal to do what’s right, no matter the consequences. What I miss most from the Lisa Marie Rice novels that I used to love is the sizzling and at time scorching variety of sexual tension that exists between her characters. And Lisa Marie Rice is an author that delivers spectacularly on that. The uber protectiveness that comes along with the sexy, drop-you-down-to-your-knees variety of heroes that graced her novels. The ultra feminine & yet strong in the ways that count heroines who enter your heart right from the get go. Through it all, Lisa Marie Rice was an author that delivered on the suspense aspect as well, though one might not have the hardest time figuring out the bad guys in her novels. All that somehow seems to have changed with the recent novels that have been published and I for one mourn the loss of it all.

Recommended for those who love novels by Lisa Marie Rice. For those that love a strong hero and an equally determined heroine.

Final Verdict: A favorable installment to the Men of Midnight series.

Favorite Quotes

With his hand he silently told her to widen her stance and she opened her legs and oh my God! His fingers found her slick heat and she shuddered. He touched her just so. A Goldilocks touch. Not too hard and not too soft and oh! A probing finger rubbed over her clitoris then dipped inside her heat and she clenched. She clenched with her entire lower body, it was so intense.
She opened her mouth under his and gasped.
“That’s my girl,” Jack murmured.
“Jack,” she whispered.
“Darlin’,” he whispered back.

So hot, so hard, so…right. It was like a homecoming, something she’d wanted, missed for so long. Her legs rose, wrapped around him as tightly as her arms around his shoulders as she savored a connection that was a missing piece of her. As if she’d been half dead and was coming back to life.
Jack withdrew slowly, pushed back in, and it was sheer bliss, her body had missed this, she’d missed him so very much. To her horror, tears sprang to her eyes but her body saved her in the nick of time. She tipped over into orgasm and tears were perfectly normal while climaxing.
And she could pretend it was just sex instead of her heart opening to Jack Delvaux once more.

There was something exciting about being half dressed, having to keep quiet, some whiff of the forbidden. He was thrusting hard. He reached down, opened her up even further with his fingers so that his penis rubbed right…there.
She went up in flames. She clenched heavily once, twice and came with a huge electric rush, wanting to cry out but Jack covered her mouth with his. She couldn’t move and couldn’t cry out and it was as if her body turned in on itself, exploding.

Summer was done, she went lax. Her sex was soft and open to him slick with her juices. Jack’s movements became less rhythmic, jerky, moving in short hard thrusts so fast she was surprised she didn’t burn up from the friction. He gasped, thrust hard one last time and started coming in hot spurts inside her that, impossibly, gave her another climax.

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

favorableread

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

fantasticread