Category / Scarred Heroine

by mvbookreviewer

Review: The Confidence and Resurrection of Wildflowers by Micalea Smeltzer

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
POV: First Person, Single
Series: Wildflower Duet
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Thayer Holmes
Heroine: Salem Grace
Sensuality: 3
Published On: March 23, 2022
Started On: April 10, 2022
Finished On: April 13, 2022

He cuts off my question, pressing me into the corner of the maze, the dried corn stalks rough against my back, and then he kisses me. It’s a rough, searing, soul-stealing sort of kiss. Thayer Holmes has branded himself on me. And I know, without a doubt, that whatever this is, whatever we become, if we grow and flourish like the wildflowers behind our houses, or crash and burn, it won’t matter because when I’m old and gray, lying in bed thinking about my life, he’ll be the best part.

The Wildflower Duet by Micalea Smeltzer was released early last year. Ms. Smeltzer is an evocative writer, whose elegant prose and characterization left me spellbound when it came to the story Sweet Dandelion. Being a sucker for May-December tropes, I was quick to grab this as it was released and I was not disappointed – at least with the first installment of the duet.

Salem Grace is 18 years old when the story begins, having just finished high school and dating the quintessential popular guy you come across in small towns. 31 year old Thayer Holmes moves in as Salem’s next door neighbor, and an unlikely friendship is forged with the single father whose gruff and silent manner should have been off-putting but draws Salem to him like a moth to a flame.

As Salem starts to babysit for Thayer’s son, the relationship between the two deepens to something much more, and a love forges to life, unlike any Salem has known. With Thayer, Salem feels safe from the nightmares that plagues her, and she feels cherished in a way that she has never known. However, tragedy is not too far from their lives when the unthinkable happens, driving the kind of wedge between Thayer and Salem that only time alone would heal. As the story moves to its second installment, Salem returns to her hometown six years henceforth, forced to come home and face the music at long last. This time around, she is older and wiser, and has a secret that she left with all those years ago.

As mentioned earlier in the review, I did enjoy the first installment in the series. Salem and Thayer invoked so many emotions in me that at times I felt chock full of it. Salem’s tragic past had me wanting to hurt someone, a very specific someone, and Thayer was all kinds of appealing. He has his own demons to fight with, but the connection between Salem and Thayer is one that all too real for him to ignore, even with the huge age gap between them.

I could understand why Thayer acted the way he did towards the end of the first installment, because some losses, you never ever fully recover from. The fact that Salem loved Thayer enough to know that and understand that was one reason I loved both of them to bits. But as the story moved to six years later, I found that there was not much essence nor conflict to the story to keep the reader hooked and the pages turning. I would have been happier had the first installment being extended a bit, and this was just a single book story. I believe it would have been more fitting.

Towards the end, I skipped huge parts of the latter half of the second book, just so I could get to the ending. I don’t like reiteration in my novels to the point where I have to force myself to keep my eyes open. That is what happened with the second installment in the series, with mundane details of everyday life thrown into make the pages count. I just sorely wish that had not been the case because if not, this would have been a stellar 5-star read!

Recommended for fans of the author and fans of May-December themed romances.

Final Verdict: The Wildflower duet is a story of tragedy and heartache. It is also one of deep abiding love and hope that gets you through the darkest moments of life!

Favorite Quotes

“I’ll get our drinks.” I head back to the kitchen for them. I grab another Diet Coke from the fridge and turn to get his, but nearly smack into his chest. “Jesus Christ!” My hand flies to my chest. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.” He makes no move to back up. “Thayer?” His brown eyes stare at me intently. “W-What are you doing?” His tongue wets his lips and I realize he’s staring at my mouth. “Are you going to kiss me?” I blurt my thoughts out loud.
He towers above me, lowering his head so I’m cocooned with the mini-fridge behind my legs and his body blocking everything else. I know if I wanted to move, he’d let me pass, that’s the kind of man he is. But the fact is, I don’t want to.
His voice is deeper than normal when he asks, “Do you want me to?”
I swallow. Do I?
“Yes.”

“Salem,” he murmurs my name between kisses.
I wind my legs around his waist, gasping when I feel the hardness of his erection.
We are chaos. Unrestrained passion igniting with a single spark.

“Need to be in you.” He sounds like he’s aching with the same need I am.
He shoves his jeans down and his boxer-briefs with them.
Thayer Holmes is naked in front of me.
I don’t look away.
I take in every inch of him.
Every. Long. Perfect. Inch.

He doesn’t hesitate. Grabbing the base of his cock, he plunges into me. I cry out, my back arching. He’s so big and I’m so full.
“Fucking hell, Salem,” he curses, exhaling heavily.
“Am I too tight?” I squeak, because my God, he’s stretching me.
He shakes his head, brown hair falling over his forehead. I reach up, brushing it away so I can see his eyes. I need to see them. He can’t hide from me that way.
“No,” he rocks slowly out and back in, “it’s just…” His fingers tighten around my hips, angling me up to meet his thrusts. “You feel like mine.”

His hips push into mine and I gasp at the feel of him hard and ready.
“Thayer,” I pant.
He wraps a hand around my neck. I moan, surprised at how much I like his hand there. “Do you want me to fuck you against the wall, Salem?”
God, yes.
“Yes.”
“Good.”

“Thayer,” I pant, breathless, “right there. Don’t stop.”
I fall over the edge, my orgasm rattling me to the bone.
His lips press open-mouthed kisses to my neck. He pumps his hips harder, faster into me, and impossibly I feel my body building toward another high.
“Thayer!” I scream his name, my orgasm rippling through me.

“If you wouldn’t have chosen a peony, what did you think my favorite would be?”
“Sunflowers,” he answers without hesitation. “I guess that’s because you remind me of them. You’re so bright and happy most of the time.”
“I didn’t used to be,” I admit mournfully.
His finger is warm beneath my chin, lifting my head to look at him. “Who we used to be doesn’t matter, it’s who we are now, what’s in our hearts that matters most. You’re sunshine, Salem, but even the sun doesn’t always shine.” His hand moves to cup my cheek. A sigh passes through my lips as I lean into his touch. “I’m not bright like you, but I promise, when your days are dark, I’ll be your light.”

“You feel so good,” he murmurs into the skin of my neck. “Fucking made for me, Salem.”
“God, yes.” I squeeze my legs around him. He rests his forehead against mine, our noses brushing, breath to breath.
He makes love to me and I soak in every bit of that, letting it fill me up.
This is what it means to be cared for. Cherished.
Anything less is second best.

One of his arm winds around my back and he lifts me effortlessly, pressing my back to the shower wall. His erection presses into my core, my hips grinding against him on their own accord.
“Yes,” he encourages, guiding my hips with his hands, “get yourself off on me.”
He kisses me again, and it’s rough, aching, so desperately needy.
My fingers grapple against his slick back.
I rock my hips harder, faster. It feels so good. He feels so right.
My orgasm shatters through me so fast with so much force that I scream.

I bite my lip, holding back tears. My voice is barely above a whisper when I say, “I never stopped caring about you. I moved on, but my heart didn’t.”
He pulls the truck abruptly off to the side of the road. Gravel and dirt kick up behind us as he slams the vehicle into park. He turns slowly in his seat to look at me.
“Thayer—” I start to question, but he doesn’t give me a chance to finish my thought. He cups my cheek in one hand, his mouth descending on mine in less than a heartbeat.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Whiteout by Adriana Anders

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
POV: Third Person, Dual
Series: Survival Instincts, #1
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Hero: Dr. Ford Cooper
Heroine: Angel Smith
Sensuality: 4
Published On: January 28, 2020
Started On: February 18, 2022
Finished On: February 26, 2022

On the ice, in the antarctic cold, in the middle of freaking nowhere, his tongue showed her how dirty sex could be, his body made her take it, and that dark, raspy husk of a voice broke in to turn the whole thing up a million degrees.

Whiteout by Adriana Anders is the first book in the Survival Instincts series. I have come across this book multiple times since it was published in 2020. I am glad that I finally gave this book a chance because this tale was all consuming on so many levels, be it the suspense factor, the romance, or the breathtaking landscape upon which the story unfolds.

Whiteout takes place in the South Pole where a scientific expedition is ongoing and 31 year old Angel Smith comes in as a cook as part of summer crew. When the story begins, her period of stay is almost over, with her return journey just a day or two away. Angel had needed the remoteness of the location to heal from the wounds that she guards closely and even though she might yearn for a certain someone to look her way, she is done running after emotionally unavailable men. Her sunny disposition and vibrancy might fool everyone, but inside she is a woman who has lost a lot, but has not given up on the potential that life has to offer.

38 year old Dr. Ford Cooper is a scientist on the expedition, who does not like crowds nor too much interaction with the outside world. From the start, Angel rubs him the wrong way, his perception of her being that she is too loud, too enthusiastic, too everything, which annoys him to no end. He is a loner, which means the job at hand suits him perfectly. The fact that Cooper is looking forward to Angel’s departure from the station is indicative of just how aware he is of her presence even if he gives nothing away, even if he might never have exchanged more than a few syllables with her.

When things go awry on the day of the departure, and Angel witnesses the horrific barbarity of a group of individuals who are working towards their own goal which might end up putting the whole world at risk, it is only Cooper and Angel who are left to put piece it together and identify how to best thwart their attempts from coming to fruition.

And so begins their trek through the unforgiving, icy, and harsh terrain of the South Pole in winter, with. As these two fight for their survival and try to outsmart those in pursuit, the circumstances that brings them together forging a bond that is difficult to overlook. Hearts are thawed and healed, desire blooms, and love emerges into the light, willing to brave it out and provide warmth in the cold and hostile environment that seems all encompassing.

Whiteout was a truly phenomenal read in my opinion, up till its end, when the story ended on a weird cliffhanger that paves the way for the second installment in the series, with two different main protagonists, which is why I found it a tad odd. Ms, Anders could have given a more well rounded ending to Whiteout and still ensured that our interest in the series remained intact without giving us such an unexpected ending.

Even if the ending did get in the way of my enjoyment factor, I still loved a lot of things about this story. I loved the breathtaking landscape upon which the story unfolds, that was so vividly brought to light by Ms. Anders. The prose is as such that I felt like I was transported to the setting, where I was witness and party to all that was taking place.

The suspense factor was also well done, reminding me of movies of the same nature, where through large chunks of what unfolds you are left holding your breath, the wait and see factor not an easy one to get through, but definitely why such thrilling movies are so addictive. Whiteout was similar in many ways, and I loved every exhilarating bit of it.

That brings me to Dr. Cooper who demanded nothing less but total surrender of my heart, body, and soul. He is the kind of hero that many romance readers may not find affinity with, but I adored. He is the true definition of a hero who is a loner, who prefers his own company to everyone else’s, who grew up without much affection in his life, who is practical in his approach to life, and who believes that love has no place in his life under any set of conditions. He is as reluctant a hero you will find in a romance, and that is how I often like them.

I loved how sexy and commanding Cooper was, how readers could see and witness his “downfall” when it came to Angel, and how he tried so valiantly even towards the very end to put up a fight and resist what was inevitable. Cooper does not understand his worth, nor his appeal, and I think that was the charm to his character which might not be so obvious to most.

I also fell wholeheartedly for Angel – the things that she had gone through were harrowing not to say the least, and the damage that it had done to her self confidence as a woman is one that can be felt by the readers. But through it all there shines a light from within, where she the beauty of her soul is evident, and that is the ultimate reason why Cooper fell so hard as he did. Angel knows Cooper well, understands the nuances to his character, and yearns for him with every fiber of her existence. But the respect she shows to her own self by walking away from something destructive made me approve of her wholeheartedly, which also led to the ultimate scene of groveling which was satisfying on many levels.

Recommended for fans of romantic suspense. The push and pull factor between the main protagonists alone was enough to keep me hooked!

Final Verdict: Whiteout is the kind of novel that brings out the adventurer in you that you never knew existed. The excitement of the romance and suspense definitely keeps the pages turning!

Favorite Quotes

He went mindless the second his mouth met hers. No cognitive abilities, all nerves and need, this unbearable tightness in his chest, this raging fire in his limbs. He couldn’t slow down to save himself. His mouth wasn’t just on her; he was devouring, prying open, taking everything he could. As wild and out of control as this storm that was trying to end them.
So much softness, but he needed more. He wrapped his arms around her, drew her flush to him, pressed and pulled and lifted, while his mouth ate her up.

When he finally moved, it was a gentle dip, his nose to hers in an achingly slow exploration that shouldn’t have been provocative. She strained for his mouth, but he denied her.
Like a big cat toying with its prey, he stroked his cheek along hers, scruff to soft skin. Just that move made her choke back a moan. How would it be if they could take their clothes off? If skin touched all over?
Deliberately, gently, he ran his nose beneath her ear and a sound escaped him. A tiny, tight-lipped hiss that she’d never have caught if he weren’t so near.

And then, oh God, then he kept her pinned with his mouth, stilling her, while he finally stroked his hand, lazy as a lion basking in the sun, from her head to her neck, then down her side, bypassing the obvious draw of her breasts, to clamp her hip, holding it still when she hadn’t even realized she was fidgeting.
Owning her.
Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he shifted above her until she could feel every hard bit of him, put his mouth to hers, and took the kiss from her.

Recklessness edged under his skin. He pressed harder, more desperately, slid his fingers through her hair, tightened his hold.
The deep, consuming kiss, tongues tangling, pushed noises out of his mouth. Painful against his ruined trachea. There was so much to do. He needed to take stock and figure out how they’d live for over two weeks on less than one week of food, but hell, maybe he could live off of this. Off of her.
He barely noticed his erection at first. Then, like his body’d taken over his brain, he moved against her—a slow, rhythmic press of his pelvis to hers.

He lay behind her, utterly still. No arm around her. Just breathing, a little lighter than his usual deep, steady rhythm—faster, too, maybe.
Was he nervous? Or was she imagining it? Projecting, probably.
Her neck grew warm from his exhalations. Was he drawing closer? Was that…
Angel shuddered at the feel of his lips on her nape, and though she wanted to press back into him, she forced herself to wait instead. Let him give without pushing too hard in return. He liked giving, her lone wolf, needed to take the first step in his own good time.

“Can’t stop wanting you.”
“Why would you want to?” She swallowed, for the first time worried about what kind of terrible answer he might come up with.
Instead of something dire, he puffed out a laugh and rubbed his nose gently against her temple. “You mess with my self-control.” A pause and a shift and then his hand was on her hip, just resting there. Slowly, he stroked under her shirt, then up her waist, to where she was braless and more than ready. She gasped, he inhaled, the sounds harsh. “Afraid I’ll lose it.”

“You’re amazing.”
He frowned. Was she kidding? “What are you—”
“You were always such a detached jerk. On the outside.” When he opened his mouth to interrupt, she put a hand to his lips and stopped him. “But it was an act. I get that now.” Straining up, she put her lips to his and kissed him so tenderly he couldn’t hold himself up anymore. He sifted his fingers through her thick, soft hair and gave in. Gently at first, then deeper, their tongues playing, exploring, they finally learned each other’s faces in the murky light of this place. Their bodies did the same, shifting, sliding, pressing together. Skin to skin. Bliss.

Something snapped inside Ford. She watched him go from calculating, to a little lost, then finally a bit…feral.
The thing was, she really liked this animal part. Pounding into her, twisting her body, turning it, bending, pushing, all so he could get closer, deeper. Thrusting into her like he’d die if he didn’t.
And she felt it, too. She needed this thing. Passion, she’d call it, if it hadn’t felt more primal than that.

Each of his hard thrusts scooted the cot toward the metal wall, where it banged like thunder, causing cans and boxes to crash to the floor.
It was hilarious on one level. On another, when she looked him in the eye and he hit that high, bright place just right… No hilarity. Just frightening intensity and a deadly seriousness.
She let out a sound—weak and a little frantic.
He leaned down in response and kissed her again, slowed his movements, twisting his hips, so he got the spot every time and, rather than getting screams now, he forced her into one long, low moan of pleasure.

Around them lay the destruction of a room fucked to pieces, their stuff everywhere. Like a storm had come through.
Above her, Ford’s body heaved. Exhausted and probably overcome.
She wrapped around him and held on to him—this big, tender loner of a man. The man who’d saved her life more than once. Funny how somehow, suddenly, right this moment, she felt like he’d torn it all apart.

“Come here,” he mouthed, as he nudged her up and over him, so perfectly aligned that when she dropped her pelvis, she found him ready, right where she wanted.
Her eyes captured by his, she lowered her body as slowly as she could, needing to feel every second, every millimeter of this coming together. To hold on to, to remember, to unpack it later when she was gone and this man was just a memory carved out of the ice.

When he bent to meet her lush lips with a frantic kiss, it occurred to him that he’d sunk back into her siren’s pull. She was so precious beneath him, her eyes full of life and affection and a good dose of challenge.
I can take you on, the look said. I can turn you inside out and make you like it.
And it was true. The problem was that he didn’t know how he’d find himself again when this was all over.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | eBooks | Apple Books | BookDepo

by mvbookreviewer

Review: The Mistress Deception by Susan Napier

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
POV: Third Person, Dual
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Mills & Boon
Hero: Matthew Riordan
Heroine: Rachel Theodora Blair
Sensuality: 3
Published On: May 2000
Started On: January 31, 2022
Finished On: February 03, 2022

This time Matt was lying flat on his back on the bed, the muscles of his deep chest straining against the pull of his arms stretched over his head, his crossed wrists bound to the head of the brass bedstead with the narrow silk cummerbund he had been wearing in the earlier photo. Straddling his lower belly was the Valkyrie, flaunting a vast expanse of smooth, creamy skin unmarked by tan-lines, her knees digging into his lower ribcage, her spectacular breasts hovering invitingly above his pillowed head as she arched up to secure his bonds. The crowning salacious touch was the thin black leather whip which lay coiled on the bed beside them.

Susan Napier puts to shame every single stereotype that category romances from Mills&Boon and/or Harlequin have been stuck with. She brings to light characters that were ahead of the times in which some of her stories were written, and Ms. Napier never minded pushing the boundaries of convention that ruled the world of romance, while at the same time delivering stories that have so much wit, heart, and heat!

The Mistress Deception brings together 31 year old Rachel Theodora Blair and 26 year old Matthew Riordan (Matt) one fateful night that ends with “racy” photographs of them taken and sent to both of them. Matt is livid, more so when his father has a heart attack after seeing the pictures, more so because of dreams of his that were shattered.

When these two are thrown together once again, it is only a matter of time before both of them succumb to the red-hot desire that rages between them. Matt who has been groomed by his father in a certain way with the expectation that he would take over the reins one day, and Rachel who would never have thought she would be heading the security company her deceased fiance had left behind, are two lost souls in their own way.

What drew me to the story most was how both Matt and Rachel surprised me in the most unexpected ways. Matt might be the cool sophisticate to everyone else, but underneath all of that lies a romantic soul. Matt’s lack of luck when it comes to love was something that really punched me in the gut, and I fell like a ton of bricks for him because of the way he falls for Rachel and sees her for what she is worth.

Rachel’s back-story is one that is equally emotional. I cannot even imagine the kind of strength she would need to have mustered to do what she had done, at the mere age of fifteen, and how life’s second blow would have literally broken most of us. However, Rachel has a hard time placing her full trust in any man given her past. But there is no reversing the tide from the course it has set upon, and the scenes of passion were as beautiful as they were sensuous in nature, showcasing the wealth of tenderer emotions that they both hold for each other.

Ultimately, it all boils down to the matter of trust as Rachel finds towards the end of the story; that she could choose to trust the best thing that has happened to her or keep sticking to what is safe, when it would not give her what Matt brings to her life – the beauty of love that is all consuming.

Definitely recommended for those who love category romances with unexpected twists and turns and witty banter. This one certainly packs a punch!

Final Verdict: Susan Napier delivers an emotionally gripping story with twists and turns that I never saw coming, with love of the grandest kind paving the way.

Favorite Quotes

‘Matt…’ She tunnelled her hands up between his shoulder blades and raked her trim nails all the way down the length of his back, hard enough for him to feel the sharp scrape through the polished cotton.
He arched and shuddered, sensation pooling at the base of his spine and spilling over into his loins. ‘Witch…!’ His hands, which had been gripping the edges of the shelf in a futile attempt at self-control, swooped down to her flanks, smoothing up her thighs and over her womanly hips, tracing the rounded shape of her full bottom through the filmy skirt, snagging his fingers in the soft gathers as he kneaded her against his growing hardness.

Matthew’s rough-shaven jaw rasped tantalisingly across Rachel’s soft lips, and with a stifled sound of frustration she clenched her hands in his thick dark hair, holding his head still so that she could at last find the intimacy that she craved. He resisted only long enough to wrench off his spectacles and shove them blindly into his jacket pocket, then his mouth was settling hotly over hers.
It was everything she had wished, everything her dream had promised…sinfully sweet and deliciously devouring; steamy, wet and wonderful.

‘Your subconscious told you I was a blackmailing bitch?’ Her outraged voice bounced off the pitched ceiling.
Instead of flinching, he looked her straight in the eye and said with devastating honesty, ‘No, my subconscious was telling me that you were a gorgeous, earthy, incredibly sexy woman to whom I was dangerously attracted. I say “dangerously” because all my logical thought-processes went completely haywire whenever you were in the vicinity. In trying to hide it I guess I might have overcompensated. You may have noticed that I hardly managed to address a single coherent sentence to you whenever we were in a room together…’

‘Am I hurting you?’
She felt a delicious stretching, but no pain, and she shook her head on the pillow. Matt raised himself up on one arm, gazing triumphantly down into her passion-blurred face. ‘Now…’ Looking deep into her eyes, he took her hand and pushed it down between their steamy bodies to cup his virility. ‘Show me…take me…’ He used her fingers to guide him inside her. ‘I want to feel everything you feel. I want it to be you and me, together, every step of the way…’

‘Do you want me to take you like this? Is that it?’ he murmured, stroking her bottom and the curvature of her spine with a possessive hand.
He sank his teeth into her shoulder, gently holding her captive as he reached for the replenished supply of protection beside the bed. His chest braced her back, his hands slipping underneath her, one to fondle her swaying breasts, the other to splay across her taut belly, adjusting her to his thrust as he discovered a new and intensely pleasurable thrill to add to his expanding repertoire.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | eBooks | Apple Books | Harlequin

by mvbookreviewer

Review: To Have and to Hold by Patricia Gaffney

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
POV: Third Person, Dual
Series: Wyckerley Trilogy, #2
Publisher: NAL Trade
Hero: Sebastian James Ostley Selborne-Hammond Verlaine
Heroine: Rachel Crenshaw
Sensuality: 3
Published On: September 01, 1995
Started On: January 12, 2022
Finished On: January 13, 2022

Even now her husband obsessed him. He lifted his face from the hot hollow between her neck and shoulder to ask, “Did he hurt you, always? Was there never any pleasure for you?”
She wouldn’t answer.

Reading a Patricia Gaffney is always an experience – whether you enjoy it or not, learn from it or not is a whole different story. Book 2 in the Wyckerley Trilogy, To Have and To Hold, would be my second read by Ms. Gaffney and this was riveting in many ways.

The story begins when 28 year old Rachel Crenshaw is brought in front of 30 year old Sebastian James, Viscount D’Aubrey, who resides as a judge in their small town. Accused of stealing, Rachel would have easily been thrown in prison as someone with a record, who was jailed for ten years for the murder of her husband.

Sebastian is a man called many things—rake, sensualist, seeker, dilettante, degenerate. Those very traits within him sit up and take notice of Rachel from the very first moment he lays eyes on her. The sensualist in him drawn to the drab form Rachel is, a woman who has erased the very essence of who she is. His curiosity drives Sebastian to do the unthinkable and he hires Rachel as his housekeeper. The story that follows is one that was compelling.

Sebastian’s goal is simple – to goad his new housekeeper into revealing bits and pieces of herself until she is no longer the mystery that his brain works to solve every single day. Sebastian invades Rachel’s personal space, deliberately tries to get a reaction out of her when she would not give him much, and obsesses with the fact that she was married and what it is that her husband must have done to be murdered at the hand of his wife mere hours after their marriage.

It is only when the story reaches its pivotal point that much is revealed about the horrors that Rachel underwent, the hard blow that life had dealt her, after the way her family had brought her up to cultivate the right sorts of relationships and acquaintances to snag just the perfect match that would take her places. Ultimately, the only place it had taken her was to the gaol and a life of loneliness and hardship of the kind she had never known.

Sebastian is a hero that many a reader would love to hate – the way he pursues Rachel, someone who has undergone abuse and is clearly suffering from the memories of it is something that many readers would not be able to condone. However, we are talking about a time when people did not acknowledge the trauma of abuse, when it was seen as the woman’s duty to accept whatever form of abuse that was doled out by their spouses. Even at present day, we still have a hard time understanding and empathizing, and I would not expect someone like Sebastian to have understood where Rachel was coming from.

While Sebastian makes you want to smack him a time or two, those very characteristics made the story that much more enticing when the transformation ultimately happened. Sebastian reminds me of heroes written by Anne Stuart, men who are rakes and degenerates who live up to their reputations, up till the point they finally accept that they have fallen in love and that there would be no going back.

What happens to Sebastian too, is similar. When he ultimately finds out the extent of the damage that had been done to Rachel, the wooing he does, the patience he exerts, and the results which emerge when Rachel finally lets go of the shackles that binds her to the past; that is what made this story stand out.

The story Lily being the only other novel from Ms. Gaffney which I read prior to this, I was expecting something similar that would consume the whole of me. Those expectations were ultimately not met. There were things about Rachel that I wished to be true for her towards the end. I wanted her to be stronger than who she was; for the most part, neither Sebastian nor Rachel had the mind to question what was happening to her and assess the circumstances. Had it not been for a particular piece of correspondence that cleared up Rachel’s name, she would in all probability have been forced to go to prison before the story was through.

This story also made me think deeply about the attitudes of the criminal justice system towards women who have undergone a life of abuse. Has much changed? Not really, if you ask me. There are so many cases where women finally fight back only to find themselves in prison for defending themselves from someone who would have most likely killed them due to escalation of violence which is only inevitable. Makes me want to hang my head in shame for all that and more.

Recommended for fans of historical romances featuring heroes that won’t sit well with most readers! The transformative experience makes it worth the pain!

Final Verdict: Ms. Gaffney takes the reader through a journey that makes you question how far society has come when it comes to women and the criminal justice system.

Favorite Quotes

Leaning in, he ran his tongue along the prickly line of her lashes. She had stopped breathing. She waited for him to do the next thing, take the next conscienceless liberty with her body. Very well, he would. He gently inserted the tip of his middle finger between her lips. Her mouth moistened it, and he wet her lips with his finger, smoothing it back and forth, going back inside for more wetness when her lips went dry. He thought she might be trembling, and brought his other hand to the back of her neck to see. Yes. Soft, subtle quivers coursing through her, like a light breeze rustling the leaves of a small, slight tree.

He put his hands flat on her chest, feeling her heart thud, thud, as she drew a choking breath. She was going to the stake like St. Joan, brave and above it all. He slid one hand to her face, spreading her lips to the sides a little with his thumb and forefinger, parting them. She made a soft sound, helpless. He put his open mouth on hers, breathing on her, and tasted inside her lips with his tongue, circling them slowly.
Heat jerked through him, rough and willful, out of control.

“Hold on to me,” he told her, and she did that at least, clutching his sides with stiff, loveless fingers. He took her as gently as he could, and until the last second it was a cool, controlled act of sexual release. Then he lost his head. He saw the light around him dim and recede, objects disappear. In absolute blackness, he drove and drove into her, conscious of nothing but pure sensation, impossible pleasure, storming and raging in him, until he surrendered and let it take him over the blinding white edge.

He slicked his hand into the jar again, and this time he took a taste of the ointment on his tongue. The wicked smile flashed. “I like it,” he announced, and began to soothe her other breast with the same slow, careful, painstaking enjoyment. Her toes curled. She could not possibly like this. She hated sex, which was violent, brutal, and degrading. She could endure it, but she could not enjoy it. No matter, completely irrelevant, that some people claimed to take pleasure in it—she knew what she knew. And yet, when Sebastian leaned over her and put his mouth on her, put his lips on the nipple he’d warmed and stimulated with his hands and his devilish unguent, a stab of such exquisite pleasure shot through her that she groaned, and the longer he teased and tongued and bit, the more excruciating it became.

He drove her higher, pushed her against the rails, cold wood hard against her shoulders, driving, driving. Sweat glistened on his face and chest, his straining arms; sweat dripped from his damp hair and fell on her breasts. He kissed her, opening her mouth wide, thrusting into it with his tongue in rhythm with the steady plunging of his sex inside her. She knew what he wanted, knew he wouldn’t stop until she gave it to him. She wanted it, too—but it was out of reach, impossible. She let him pull her legs around him, tight around his waist, and she moved her own body to his fevered rhythm.
“Let go,” he panted against her neck, grazing his teeth across her throat. “Give in.”

He lay down beside her and propped his head on his hand. Watching her eyes, he tilted the vial and poured a drop of oil on the nipple of her right breast. She caught her breath. “Don’t close your eyes. Look at me.” Their gazes locked while he plucked and rolled the tight, crinkling bud between his fingers. She moaned softly. “If you knew what you look like. Your mouth . . . you have the most delicious mouth.”
“Kiss me . . .”

“I’ll tell you what I want,” he said threateningly, leaning over her until they were mouth to mouth. While he spoke, he skimmed his finger down the moist crease of her sex, making her suck in her breath through her teeth. “I want to put my cock inside you very slowly. Feel your heat. Feel you stretch and tighten around me. I want to feel the beat of your pulse deep inside. I want to see your face when you lose control—and you will lose control. And when you come, Rachel, I want to hear you cry out my name.”
Two spots of bright pink color stained her cheeks. She couldn’t catch her breath. He rested his finger over the tight, swollen nub of her sex just to let her know he knew where it was. “What do you want?”
“I want you to touch me,” she ground out through her teeth. “There. Now. Do it.”

“Don’t hold back. Give yourself to me, Sebastian. Because I want you.”
She let him keep her hand when he grabbed for it. He squeezed it tight, so tight he was hurting her—but then his punishing grip slackened and a groan tore from his throat. Panting, he lifted his head from the pillow and dropped it back heavily, twice, too stunned to speak. She could feel him trembling, feel the tension in his muscles and the light sheen of sweat everywhere she touched him. His fingers tangled in her hair. “Rachel,” he said on a sigh, and he sounded sated, resigned, almost hopeless. “Too much. Oh God, Rachel.”
She rested beside him, her arm across his waist, thinking, Ah, then you know how it feels. It was good that he knew. When she left him, they could feel, at least for a time, the same loss.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | eBooks | Apple Books

by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Brutal Intentions by Lilith Vincent

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Dark Contemporary Romance
POV: First Person – Dual
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Lazzaro Rosetti
Heroine: Mia Bianchi
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: September 28, 2022
Started On: September 20, 2022
Finished On: September 23, 2022

“Come on, Mia. Show me how bad girls get off in the middle of the night.”

Having never read a Lilith Vincent novel did not stop me from requesting for an ARC of this steamy, taboo-as-it-gets romance when I encountered the author’s posts on the release of Brutal Intentions on Instagram. Being a lover of dark, edgy romances that pushes the conventional boundaries of male-female relationships, I felt right at home with this one. Even though in real life I would probably never be able to imagine something like this happening, much less supporting it, between the pages, 29 year old Lazzaro Rosetti (Laz) was just what this depraved heart of mine needed.

18 year old Mia Bianchi is used to being the invisible member of her dysfunctional family, bearing the brunt of and carrying the stain of her mother’s past mistakes. All of that changes the moment she lays eyes on Laz as he stands at the altar saying his I do’s to none other than Mia’s mother.

Laz is the youngest of his family, trying to get his hands on what is rightfully his to forge his own path in life. However, Laz finds himself forced into a marriage that is of not his choice, and as a result it is Miathat bears the the brunt of his anger over his lack of freedom to choose. At his heart, Laz is just as lost as Mia is in some ways, but even Laz through his depraved heart can see that Mia has got it much worse than he ever did.

The story is relentless from the very beginning, with Ms. Vincent never letting there be any respite from the heat and twisted nature of what unfolds between Mia and Laz. While Mia does try her best to steer clear from Laz, it is as if Laz has made it his life’s mission to torment her and make Mia face the inevitable truth when it comes to what is between them; the lust that roars to life that is unparalleled. There is no escape from being consumed by the fire that rages for either of them, and Laz to his credit, does not even try.

Navigating the treacherous nature of Mia’s family takes some doing, but it is Laz’s well placed intentions that makes for the climax of this newfound and fragile love that was careening towards the edge of the cliff from the onset. However, there is something to be said for the determination that defines both Laz and Mia even in the face of all the obstacles that stands in their way, which is one reason why their story was so satisfying when all was said and done.

I do not think I can begin to express all that this novel presented; there is just enough emotional development and backstory to the characters to make all of this real and relatable to the point where you root for the main protagonists against all odds. However, if you are the type to shy away from cheating in romance novels, this is definitely not the book for you – because there is plenty of cheating, assholery, and the kind of sex that makes you reach for your non-existent glass of cold water at your bedside table.

I will definitely be looking for more of Ms. Vincent’s books in the future. Her writing is flawless, even when writing a character that is rough around the edges like Laz, who does not care for the polished veneer that most people believe makes us civilized. With an increasing number of books published that tries to serve the appetites of the majority that likes their romances bland and safe to fit the current times, it is rare to meet authors like Ms. Vincent and I will doggedly be in pursuit of her new releases!

Recommended for those who love their romances on the frisky side, with an extra serving of taboo to really spice things up.

Final Verdict: Brutal Intentions at its heart is the kind of story that digs itself deep into those empty crevices of your soul that you never acknowledged existed.

Favorite Quotes

[Mia] Heat and pleasure rise up and crash over me. My body flexes in Lazzaro’s strong arms as I hurtle beyond all conscious thought and straight into pure pleasure.
That was better than anything I’ve felt in my entire life.
I suck in a deep breath and open my eyes.
Lazzaro is awake and staring at me, his expression absolutely feral.

[Mia] “Do as you’re told, Mia. I’m not letting you up until you come again.”
Lazzaro thrusts hard against my ass through his sweats and his hot breath is on the back of my neck. The hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on has me pinned in place, and my body craves to give him what he wants. His brutal assault on my senses forces a third orgasm from me.
I press my face into the pillow and moan, wishing it didn’t feel so good to be so thoroughly humiliated.
My stepfather raggedly breathes into my ear, “Good fucking girl.”

[Mia] “What a performance Giulia made over a broken leg. I don’t think she’d carry on the same way about you, do you?”
“Thanks for pointing that out,” I seethe.
“So do something about it.”
“Like what? I’m not going to pour red wine on Mom’s favorite dress because she loves Isabel more.”
He shrugs, but there’s a dark glimmer in his eyes. “There are better ways to take revenge.”
“I’m not going to suck your dick because my family hates me.”
A wicked smile hooks Laz’s mouth. My eyes are drawn to his scar as he saunters toward me. “You are going to suck my dick, but because you crave the feel of me bottoming out in your throat.”

[Mia] Wanting my stepdad is one thing.
Falling in love with him?
Insane.
I pull myself out of his grip and back away.
“I can’t be your anything. I really like you, I care about you, I’m always thinking about you, but this isn’t right.”
The expression in his eyes flickers between anger and pain. “If you wanted to say the words that would make me back off, those aren’t it.” He moves toward me like a hunter stalking prey. “You like me? You care about me? That’s oxygen to me.”

[Mia] “You bad fucking girl.” Laz pulls me closer, takes my face in his hands, and kisses me hard, his tongue parting my lips. My heart is beating wildly as Laz perches me on the vanity and moves between my thighs, pulling them around his hips. He overwhelms me.
Invades me.
Conquers me.
It’s the most intense kiss of my life.

[Laz] “Am I hurting you?” I ask through gritted teeth.
Mia sits up on her elbows and stares at herself. Stares at me driving into her with careful thrusts, edging my way deeper. Her pretty pussy is getting my shaft so wet.
She looks up at me with flushed cheeks and dilated eyes. “I think you were made for me, Laz.”
I relax a little and thrust deeper, and she moans in pleasure. I’m lost in those big eyes, my cock buried inside of her.
I think she’s fucking right.

[Laz] I picture Mia wearing a wedding dress with a pregnant belly, and my dick gets so hard.
I need to fuck her again.
And so, I do.
I pull back and slam into her again, short, hard thrusts.
“Laz,” Mia hisses. “What are you doing?”
“Hold still, baby, I’m not done with you.” I drag her down the bed, pull one of her legs over my shoulder and the other around my waist.
Mia’s breathless with desire and panic. “You shouldn’t—we can’t—”
All her protests are like a red flag to a bull. I can and I will.

[Mia] The drag and pull of his cock inside me is making me go insane. My clit is alive with sensation. There’s sweat on Laz’s chest and his eyes are dilated and dark. Suddenly, he clamps a hand around my throat and squeezes. I’m being pressed down into the seat, completely at his mercy. Trapped between his body and the leather.
Suddenly, everything rushes up, and I fly apart into a thousand shining pieces.
Laz is on the verge of coming when I return to earth. I reach around his cock, grab the skin of his ball sack, and twist.
He groans but doesn’t stop pounding me, and I feel him come as his rhythm stutters, his body flushes red, and his head tips back.
When he opens his eyes to catch his breath, he grins lazily at me. “You little hellcat.”

Purchase Links: Amazon

by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: The Night Blossoms by Leylah Attar

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: Untitled Series, #2
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Rafael Roza
Heroine: Vee Roza
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: July 28, 2022
Started On: July 14, 2022
Finished On: August 03, 2022

The Night Blossoms by Leylah Attar is a novel that is closely tied to The Paper Swan that was published in 2015. While The Paper Swan was dark, gritty, and breathtaking, The Night Blossoms, like its main male lead is a different ball game altogether, which was spellbinding in a totally different way.

When Vee Roza’s husband Rafael goes missing after a heated argument between the two, never does Vee think that this would in fact be the pivotal event which brings the secrets that she hides to the forefront, test her to her very limits of endurance, and in the end show to the readers the strength of her character.

I went in expecting the kind of immersive experience that was The Paper Swan. Don’t get me wrong; this book was engrossing in the way Ms. Attar unfolded the layers to her characters and revealed all that was simmering underneath. While I would have loved for more darkness in the story, I did enjoy the tumultuous journey that was the Rozas’ before and even after they said their I do’s.

With The Night Blossoms, Ms. Attar shows to readers what resilience really means when it comes to relationships, especially after marriage. Vee and Rafael do not find each other under the most heartwarming circumstances; they both lead equally tough lives, especially during their most formative years. One would think that they would catch a break, but turns out, life wants to test their love to a point where most of us would just probably give up and walk away.

I loved Rafael – his character was one that shone through in many ways. Ms. Attar explores a fascinating trait in Rafael, something which I do not want to particularly reveal in my review. Understanding what it means to live with that sort of “gift” perhaps, is something beyond my capacity as I cannot imagine the impact something like that would have on one’s physical and mental well-being.

Rafael’s smartness is what got me – when he started talking about concepts of physics, I wanted to be sitting in his class, soaking all of it in. We would all be so lucky to have educators who are as enthusiastic as Rafael is when it comes to imparting knowledge that is akin to a gift given for life.

Vee’s character was a tougher nut to crack for various reasons, and I think Ms. Attar wanted it that way. Even when the story is told from Vee’s point of view, there is always a part of herself that she keeps in the shadows, as if penetrating her secrets would threaten her very existence. Her fears and insecurities were all too real and I felt them, which attests to the brilliance that is behind Ms. Attar’s writing.

Recommended for readers who love romantic suspense. You will have to read The Paper Swan first to have an appreciation for the characters, and if you like myself love dark romances, The Paper Swan is definitely a treat!

Final Verdict: The Night Blossoms is tale that captivates the reader on multiple fronts, of love of the kind that prevails and grows in strength through the worst life has to offer.

Favorite Quotes

“Yvette? Did you hear what I s—”
Her kiss was breathless. Clasping her fingers behind his neck, she drew him close. The air expelled from Rafael’s lungs. He angled his mouth to taste her. His lips trailed to her throat, to the pulse under her skin. A wild surge of pleasure gripped him when her hand slipped under his waistband and untucked his shirt.

“Don’t fall in love. Not with me.”
“Why not? You’re smart and strong and determined. You can do anything you set your mind to.” He stroked her hair. “Why do you hate yourself so?”
Slipping out of reach, she gathered the blanket to her chest and sat. “You will too, when I tell you the truth.”
“Fine. Let’s have it.” He grinned.
Bit by bit, she revealed the details.
Bit by bit, Rafael’s world careened out of orbit.
Everything shifted. Everything changed.
By the time Yvette was done, nothing was the same again.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N

by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: A Governess Should Never… Deny a Duke by Emily Windsor

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: The Governess Chronicles, #2
Publisher: Sentra Press
Hero: Rhys Cadogan
Heroine: Isabelle Violette de Beaujeu
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: July 07, 2022
Started On: July 05, 2022
Finished On: July 14, 2022

A Governess Should Never… Deny a Duke is the second installment in The Governess Chronicles by Emily Windsor. Even though this is part of a series, the story is perfectly readable as a standalone.

27 year old Isabelle Violette de Beaujeu is a governess with almost a decade of experience under her belt, having earned an impeccable reputation for herself. Her newest charge is the 15 year old niece of the Duke of Aberdare. Even though 34 year old Rhys Cadogan has a reputation for being mean, moody, and mysterious, it does not deter Isabelle from seeking the position, one more milestone towards making headway in her retirement funds.

From the get go, the Duke’s sheer masculinity takes Isabelle’s breathe away, or so it would have she tells herself, if she weren’t made of sterner stuff. Likewise, Rhys is drawn towards the spirit and fire that is evident when Isabelle loses that rigid control she exerts on herself.

However, a governess has no space to dream about frivolous things like love and desire, especially when it involves the likes of a Duke, who for all intents and purposes is on the hunt for a bride. What neither Rhys nor Isabelle realize is that when it comes right down to it, they are both two halves of one soul, drawn towards a shared future, irrespective of the circumstances that brought them together.

From one breathless encounter to heated stolen kisses, Isabelle comes to the realization of the kindness that is inherent in the Duke, the passion that he hides behind the at times aloof facade of his, and the dreams that he harbors for the kind of love that Isabelle herself yearns for but never hopes to find.

I loved this installment in the series and enjoyed both Rhys and Isabelle. Rhys is the kind of hero that is the right mix of tenderness and masculinity that sweeps you off your feet. His keen intelligence and his kindness draws the reader towards him like a moth to flame, and it is not just Isabelle that falls hopelessly in love with him.

Isabelle is the kind of heroine readers root for in every sense. With a past that still haunts her, Isabelle is someone who has lived true to her values and principles and made a name for herself in her profession. Even when the Duke tempts her so, Isabelle tries to tell herself that it is not for the likes of her, but alas, love does have a strange way of seeking one out when you are least looking for it.

The style of writing that Ms. Windsor brings to the genre is evocative, the portrayal of the yearning of both characters in this novel the kind that makes for an immersive reading experience, and the witty nature of the inner monologues and the dialogues which keeps the pages turning. The secondary characters added vibrancy to the story as it unfolded, many of whom I would definitely love to read more about.

Recommended for fans of Ms. Windsor and fans of beautifully spun historical romances!

Final Verdict: Delightful, sensual, and poignant; Ms. Windsor’s writing is powerful in the way it moves the reader!

Favorite Quotes

I wait. I tremble. I yearn,
Yet to me she cometh not.
I lust. I languish. I burn!
Yet to me she cometh not.

His lips brushed.
Back and forth. Beguiling and mellow and supple and sinful.
The angel admonished one last time, prattling on about all those years of flawless reputation, but instead of dissuading Isabelle from this path of desire, it compelled her to be reckless. Yes, she had been all that was placid and perfect for so long, but she was tired. Tired of suppressing her accent, her upbringing, her nature, her temper, her very self.
So, she returned the duke’s kiss.

Abruptly, she was swung around, her spine meeting the panelled wall, and she was unsure why until he pressed his muscled frame as though he required more pressure, could not get close enough to her…
Now the assault came not from just his ravishing lips, or from his hands which grasped her face, securing her for his kiss, but his hips which recklessly thrust.
She knew he was heavily aroused, had read many a novel for knowledge, but even the most prurient tale failed to convey the sheer elation that surged.
Real, indulgent and utterly wicked.

“Beg pardon,” he muttered, hands tidying her bodice and attempting to push curls into their plait – a fruitless endeavour yet she welcomed it, savoured the sensation of being fussed over for once, till he claimed her wrist and kissed the pounding pulse. “Thank you. Thank you for… My mood was sombre tonight and you fetched light into it with your empathy and touch…Miss Beaujeu.”
She nodded. Knew tonight was at an end for Isabelle.
The clock chimed midnight.
“Good night, Your Grace.”
“Good night, Miss Beaujeu.”
He kissed her hand once more and she twisted away on legs that appeared to be filled with English custard.

“Ça alors!”
He shivered. “You know when you speak in French, it causes the most uncontrollable urges within me.”
“Does it?” She brought her lips to his ear. “Je te désire, Monsieur le duc.”
With a grunt, he strode for the bed. “If you keep testing my limits, Miss Beaujeu, you will find yourself nude and splayed before you can take another breath.”
She laughed as he lowered her to the coverlet, followed her, his perfect mate as she arched beneath him.

His entire weight sank upon her, powerful and possessive, and her legs parted of their accord to accommodate.
Now the kiss grew reckless and tempestuous, both their bodies arching into one another.
With a growl, he reared, twisted off the bed and wrenched at the fall of his breeches, shoving them down. By the flame of the candle, Isabelle glimpsed muscled planes and masculine beauty and an arousal that should’ve scared her but that instead spurred her pulse to race.
He sank upon her again, but now with bare, heated skin, his body tight with sinew, blunt with need.

She leaned up as best she could, gasping as it forced him deeper. “Mon amour. Mon coeur…”
“Cariad, don’t–”
“Je t’aime pour l’éternité.”
With that, any pretence they were civilised creatures vanished as Rhys roared and abruptly arched, his hand grasping her hip as he bucked.
Isabelle sought to retain a grip unto sanity but it was a futile endeavour as his mouth devoured her breast, her throat, and his body demanded she yield also to this madness of desire.

“Love waits, still and swithe,
Love lingers, dusk and bright.
Love waits, it waits for thee,
For thee to fill my night.

So come to me, my soul,
Aside the pounding sea.
Come love and make me whole,
And ‘I’ shall become ‘We’.”

Purchase Links: Amazon

by mvbookreviewer

Review: A Daughter’s Dilemma by Miranda Lee

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Powers-Slater Studio, #1
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: Vaughan Slater
Heroine: Carolyn McKensie
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: February 21, 1997
Started On: December 21, 2021
Finished On: December 30, 2021021

A Daughter’s Dilemma by Miranda Lee was my last read for the year 2021. It is February 2022, and it is only now I am able to get my last review for the year in place. I am a firm believer of the philosophy better late than never. Perhaps more applicable here than elsewhere in my life because I have a habit of always running behind on my review schedule.

My book list for 2021 veered in the direction of picking up older Harlequin romances to read because, at the cost of repeating myself, modern watered down versions of the heroes that I come across in books these days just makes me itch, and not in a good way at all. I feel bereft of the emotions that would otherwise run gamut through me when authors just get it all right, with a hero who is brusque, taciturn, and all those qualities that we hate to love and love to hate.

Miranda Lee in this way, is an author whose books teeter on 50-50 line; I either love them or am meh about them. Luckily, this one too passed muster, and I had an enjoyable time with the journey that was 34 year old Vaughan Slater and 24 year old Carolyn McKensie take to their happily ever after.

The story begins with Carolyn sending off her newly wedded mother on her honeymoon cruise, with a promise to her stepfather that she would do what was needed to ensure that their new home was ready to move into upon their return. However, Carolyn gets the shock of her life when she finds out that the architect hired by her stepfather is none other than Vaughan, who basically destroyed her mother all those years ago.

Carolyn’s mother raises her as a single parent, with her father having died even before she was born. All of that had caught up with her mother when Carolyn was fourteen years old, and since then, Carolyn had acted more as a mother than vice versa. Carolyn being fiercely protective of her mother is not ready to forgive and forget what Vaughan is responsible for; having seduced and discarded a woman who was much older than him.

Carolyn’s helpless reaction to the magnetism that Vaughan exudes is however the nail on the coffin so to speak, and even though she is determined not to give in, it proves too much of a challenge to turn away from the heat, especially with Vaughan feeling the same way. Consequently, the attraction between them gives way to passion of the kind that innocent Carolyn had never known, and before she knows it, her heart too is on the line.

But there looms dark clouds on the horizon, casting gloomy shadows on her newfound happiness that is all too fragile, especially when Carolyn has a hard time reconciling with the version of the events that Vaughan stands by and won’t let her shy away from. With Carolyn torn between the man who makes her senses reel and her heart soar, and her mother for whom she would practically do anything for, it is up to Carolyn to gather her courage and face the music, whatever tune it may be playing when all is said and done.

While I found Carolyn a bit tiresome at certain points, overall, I understood where she was coming from. I too would probably have been a bundle of nerves if I were in her place, believing that I have to choose between the love of my life and my own mother who sacrificed her youth to bring me up. That is a tough place to be in.

I loved Vaughan, for being as determined to make Carolyn stand up for what she wants, for giving her that needed push to step out of her comfort zone, without which she would probably have made the wrong choice and ended up being miserable, bitter, and lonely for the rest of her life.

Recommended for fans of Miranda Lee and fans of Harlequin romances.

Final Verdict: A Daughter’s Dilemma delves into what it is like to be caught between a rock and a hard place; it takes courage of the kind not many of us can muster to make that leap of faith.

Favorite Quotes

For a few seconds longer he stared down at her. ‘Let’s see if I can’t help you make up your mind…’ And his mouth slowly descended.
How long later did it lift again? A minute? Two?
Carolyn had no idea, for instantly those soft sensual lips claimed hers she was catapulted into a world so erotic and exciting that all coherent thought rocketed to a distant planet. She clung to him, her lips parting soundlessly beneath the increasing pressure of his, letting his tongue slide forward into her mouth, letting him arouse her with it to a pitch she would never have believed possible from a kiss. The blood began swimming in her head and wave upon wave of heat flooded up through her body. When her knees threatened to buckle from under her, she slid her arms up tightly around his neck, her small hard breasts pressed flat against his wet chest.

Carolyn bit her bottom lip against the tumultuous pleasure he immediately evoked, her knuckles whitening around the railing as she felt him gradually work his way back down her body. Surely he didn’t mean to…to…
When he passed her navel, every internal muscle she owned contracted and held tightly. Her lips parted, as though ready for protest. But no protest came from her lips when he finally reached his destination. No protest at all. Only a shuddering sigh of sheer ecstasy. ‘Oh, yes,’ she moaned. ‘Yes…’

For a split second Carolyn felt a thrilling moment of peaking, of being suspended. And then she was spun into a wild avalanche of sensation that shattered her completely, the experience impossible to fully capture in words or even memory. Its sharpness caught at her breath, then forced sounds from her lips, soft sensual cries somewhere between sighs and moans. Her head tipped back, her lips panting apart, her back bending like a bow from the bed as she felt her flesh convulsing around Vaughan’s, felt her woman’s pull on his body, urging him to a mutual release.
When it came Carolyn was stunned, thinking the pleasure she’d just experienced was impossible to surpass. But nothing could eclipse the emotional and physical satisfaction of holding Vaughan and feeling him climax deep within her.

‘Tell me you love me too,’ he urged. ‘I want to hear you say it.’
Her heart leapt, but instinct warned her not to admit to such a thing. ‘No,’ she panted. ‘No…’
He muttered something and resumed his slow, steady rhythm, taking her inexorably towards the moment when will-power would cease to exist, when there was nothing but her body and his, teetering on the brink of ecstasy.
At this most crucial moment, Vaughan stopped once again, bringing a cry of sharp need from her gasping lungs. Her nails dug deeply in his back and her body urged him desperately to continue.
‘Tell me you love me, dammit,’ he demanded, holding her still beneath him in an iron grip.
She whipped her head from side to side till he captured her mouth with his own, grinding her head back into the soft pillow with a savage kiss.
‘Say it!’ he gasped when his mouth finally burst from hers. ‘Dear God, just say it this once!’
She was moved, more by the desperate note in his voice than his violent kiss, or the sexual edge on which she was hanging.
‘I love you,’ she cried huskily. ‘I’ve loved you all along.’

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

by mvbookreviewer

Review: A Date with Destiny by Miranda Lee

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: Michael Angellini
Heroine: Salome Twynan
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: March 25, 1994
Started On: December 13, 2021
Finished On: December 17, 2021

A Date with Destiny by Miranda Lee is a category romance that was first published in 1994. The story begins when 24 year old Salome Twynan discovers that her ex-husband had once again added another item to her divorce settlement; a penthouse unit at McMahon’s Point. Salome had married young, at the age of nineteen to a 49 year old man, who had warned her that people would talk, judge, and slander her reputation upon their marriage. Salome had gone into the marriage with her eyes wide open, let her husband mold her into what he wanted, and when the divorce had come out of nowhere, Salome is devastated, and having tried and failed to see her ex-husband to get answers to the questions she has being futile slides her further into a depressive state.

When Salome turns up at the penthouse, she discovers that her neighbor is none other than Michael Angellini (Mike), one of Sydney’s most eligible bachelors, the wealthy owner of an exclusive Italian restaurant that Ralph had taken Salome to on many occasions during the course of their marriage. From the onset of their introduction, Salome and Mike had rubbed each other the wrong way, and the hostility had often meant Mike ignoring her or giving her scathing glances while Salome tried her utmost to be more flirty and appreciative of her husband in his presence.

Needless to say, the knowledge that Mike is going to be right next door is not information that settles well with Salome, especially when she discovers that underneath all her hostility lies recognition of Mike’s vitality as a man and the need he rouses in her. Salome has her hangups about casual sex which drives her up the wall when it comes to admitting to the fact that she indeed finds Mike desirable to the point of distraction.

I found the love that unfolded between Mike and Salome to be an entertaining, sweet, and sexy journey with a bit of angst tossed into the mix. It is apparent from Mike’s behavior that he finds Salome just as desirable, and would like nothing better than for Salome to give in for them to reach the height of their mutual pleasure in each other. But Salome is a stubborn as well as a reluctant heroine (but not to the point where it becomes annoying), and Mike has his work cut out for him in trying to make her see that for him, there is no other.

Recommended for those who love books by Miranda Lee.

Final Verdict: Intense heat and good characterizations renders A Date with Destiny to be a wonderful read!

Favorite Quotes

‘You don’t want me to stop, do you?’ he said hoarsely.
‘No,’ she admitted, her voice shaking. ‘No…’
His raw groan stunned her. Clearly, he wanted her almost as much as she wanted him. Maybe he had always wanted her. No, no, a dim memory refuted. That’s not so. He said that wasn’t so.
His next kiss obliterated any further thought, and this time his mouth contained nothing but uncontrollable passion, a taking rather than a tempting. Salome met him halfway, their tongues joining together in a violently sensuous mating that could only be eclipsed in one way.

She could hear his breathing, as heavy and ragged as her own, hear his dark mutterings as he began working on the buttons of her jacket and blouse, then the tie at her neck. Cool air suddenly caressed bare breasts, a rash of goose-bumps temporarily sobering her. For a split second the appalling truth of what she was allowing came home to Salome but, before she could react, Mike’s mouth moved across her breasts and closed over one single, straining nipple.
A moan was torn from deep in her throat, the fingers of both her hands curling over to dig into her palms. ‘Oh, God!’ she whimpered. She jammed her fists down beside her on the case, but this only served to give her a lever with which to arch her back further upwards, pushing her flesh deeper and deeper into his mouth. Her head swam with dizzying pleasure, the blood in her veins surging hotly through her body.

‘What is it?’ Mike said sharply.
She expelled the breath she had been holding in a trembling gasp. ‘Nothing…nothing…’
‘Tell me,’ he urged, and drew her to him in a breathtakingly close embrace, his lips pressed feverishly to her forehead. ‘What is it that frightens you so about me? Why didn’t you want to let me finish making love to you earlier on? Why?‘
She shook her head frantically from side to side. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘I can’t! It’s all too confusing.’
‘What’s confusing?’ he insisted, little knowing that the hot, stroking hands on her hair, her neck, her back, were the most confusing of all, because they kept bringing wave after wave of sensation that was slowly obliterating her capacity to reason. Surely she wouldn’t feel like this in any other man’s arms, would she? It didn’t seem possible. Yet…if it was only Michael Angellini who could do this to her, then what was it exactly she felt for him? Sexual infatuation? Obsession? Lust?
Salome refused to embrace the word ‘love’. Even if her feelings for Ralph had finally begun to die, her bruised, battered heart wasn’t ready, or capable, of loving another man yet, and certainly not a man who had nothing but contempt for her. Perhaps she was acting this way out of some sort of crazed revenge against the hurt perpetrated by her husband. Perhaps this was a rebound thing. She didn’t know any more.
‘Everything’s confusing,’ she groaned. ‘Me… this…you…’

She moaned her frustration and frantically pushed him away, ‘No, no!’ she cried.
He staggered back off the end of the bed, getting to his feet and staring down at her with eyes both wild and incredulous. ‘You must be mad! There’s no stopping now. No changing your mind. Look at me!’ And, with a single savage yank, he stripped off his pyjama-trousers, striking her speechless with the stark evidence of his desire.
Salome had never looked quite so blatantly at an aroused man before, certainly not one as well-endowed as Mike. Colour burnt in her cheeks, her heart thudding beneath her breasts. ‘I haven’t changed my mind,’ she burst forth, then hesitated, finding it hard to find the words. ‘I was wanting you. You!’ she cried. ‘Not…anything less…’

Finally he gasped away from her mouth and pressed hot lips to the smooth skin of her shoulder, the pulsating vein at the base of her throat, his hands running up and down the sides of her body. Her own hands were caressing the muscles in his back, but dug sharply inwards when he grabbed her hips, lifting them from the bed and thrusting even more deeply into her. Quite instinctively, her inner muscles squeezed tightly around his throbbing hardness, gripping and releasing him in a relentless rhythm. Any moment now…
There was a split second when she seemed to balance on a sharp edge, when her breathing stopped, and every muscle in her body strained to an aching stop. She heard him gasp for breath, felt his hands tightening around her. Then, with one final surge, he set them both free, and their mutual cries of release echoed in the night.

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Degrees of Control by Eve Dangerfield

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: The Beyond Bondage Series, #1
Publisher: BookBaby
Hero: James Hunter
Heroine: Charlotte Bell
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: November 30, 2015
Started On: August 10, 2021
Finished On: November 25, 2021

Degrees of Control by Eve Dangerfield is a novel first published in 2015. The story begins with Charlotte Bell attending her friend Sophia’s “low-key” engagement party, where her friends are trying to hook her up with a man who would understand needs of a closeted submissive such as Charlotte and deliver her from the bad breakup that has left a mark on her.

Charlotte is sort of biding her time until she has saved enough to return to Australia where she is from. The decision to follow her ex-boyfriend to America had turned out to be one that was foolhardy in hindsight, with Dale having subjected her to unwarranted jealousy which had only escalated over time for no good reason.

When James Hunter walks into the party, every single cell inside of Charlotte goes on red alert. Even with all her friends warning her that James is the kind of man-whore that she should steer clear from, the need that he rouses in her is all too great to be ignored.

Even though Charlotte knows that James and herself are as ill-matched as can be, the fact that neither of them are looking for anything long-term works at first. James makes reality of every sexual fantasy that she has harbored and makes the submissive in her crave the dominant in him all the more. But when emotions come to the forefront, it is a challenging road that is ahead for both, with Charlotte trying to understand the complexity behind the man that James is, so that they might at least have a shot of making things more longer term.

I loved Degrees of Control and thoroughly enjoyed the dynamics between Charlotte and James. Ms. Dangerfield is a master at delivering scorching hot scenes of passion, while at the same leaving us with tantalizing bits thought provoking elements that makes her books the stellar reads they are.

I fell in love with Charlotte and James from the onset – what is there not to love about a heroine who is kind, gorgeous, and smart, and a hero who is an alpha-hole of the best kind, who I knew would break my heart and patch it all up before all was said and done?

Recommended for those who love psychological depth with their smut! This one certainly delivers!

Final Verdict: With the perfect balance of panty-melting variety of kink and emotional depth with heart, Degrees of Control is a character-driven page-turner!

Favorite Quotes

His thumb brushed over her clit and the whole world tipped sideways, a surge of energy burst at her center and her hips bucked against his stroking fingers. “James!”
Another dark chuckle. “Oh honey, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”
Charlie came then, she couldn’t help it, and as she came, she screamed.

“I love that look on your face,” he said. “All nervous but so fuckin’ eager, like you’re gonna cream your panties the second I lay a hand on you.”
He strode toward her and Charlie felt herself shrink beneath his much larger presence. James’ smirk grew wider. He pushed a strand of hair from her eyes, letting his hand linger on her neck. At his touch, she did indeed feel an answering clench in her cunt, sparks flickering deep within her belly. She pressed her thighs together, taking pleasure in the ache.
It was worth coming for this, just to know this kind of doomsday lust exists.

“Now the skirt.”
Charlie didn’t think she’d ever felt this exposed. Her hands lurched up to her hair, stroking it nervously before she reached for the fastener at the back of her pencil skirt. His hazel eyes bore into hers as he rubbed a palm across the front of his jeans, stroking the bulge that lay below. Charlie let Holly’s skirt pool around her ankles. Her panties were cheap but new. She hadn’t wanted to wear anything for him that she’d ever worn for Dale. James stared at the ornate love heart woven into her pink bikini briefs and she saw something wild flicker in his eyes.
“Turn around,” he snarled.
She did what she was told, her feet swaying slightly in the pumps.
“Bend over.”

“You wanna come, Charlotte?”
He ran his thumb over her swollen clit and Charlie almost choked on her tongue. “Yes.”
“Go on then, girl, come on me.”
That was all she needed. She rubbed her pussy on him, slick and insistent until warm, blessed orgasm surged over her like a tidal wave. She whimpered, welcoming the oblivion, and James seized her hips and sank her down on his length.
“James, fuck!”
She writhed against his shaft, sunk so deep his pubic hair brushed against her engorged clit. As her inner muscles strained to accommodate him, her orgasm plateaued, igniting the tangled webs of nerves deep inside herself so that she shuddered and moaned. James smirked like a blond Satan. “Feel good, sweetheart? Good as you hoped?”
“Y-you tricked me, I wasn’t ready—”
He leaned closer, the position a million times more intense with his cock buried inside her. “Darlin’, you’ve been ready since you showed up in those fuck-me heels. Now be a good girl and get on your hands and knees.”

James’ hazel eyes closed, his hands clasped her hips. “Oh that’s so good, honey, ride me. Ride my dick.”
James’ head was thrown back and the line of his jaw was sharp as a blade. He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, she realized. Powerful and wild as the stallion on his ribs. James groaned, a strangled desperate sound. “Jesus, Charlotte, your pussy’s so goddamn tight, I’m gonna come.”
He seized a handful of her hair, driving himself against her. The brutality of his thrusts made her scrape her nails down his chest.
“Fuckin’ hell, I’m there. I’m fuckin’ there.” James went rigid, his hands biting into her hips, and he cursed long and loud as his cock pulsed inside her.

“Say something,” she whispered. “Please, say something.”
James lowered his mouth to her ear. “Scream my name, slut, scream it while you come on daddy’s dick.”
With a gush of slick warmth, her pussy convulsed around him. Her bound hands banged against the floor as she screamed his name so loudly, his ears rang. He slowed his pace, giving her a chance to recover.

Charlotte smiled and kissed his neck, his collarbone, any part of him she could get her mouth on. Gentle kisses that somehow got his motor running again. His balls tightened, the pressure built in his cock, but still he couldn’t get over the edge. James swore softly, plunging deeper and faster into her cunt. Charlotte’s eyes found his. She had a freckle inside her right iris, James realized, like an island floating in a sea of blue.
“It’s all right, James.” She sounded so quiet, so sure. “It feels so good, I promise. Come inside me. Come inside me. Let me feel you.”
She pressed her lips to his mouth and everything inside him clenched. At long, long last his climax tore through him like a tornado and all the tension in his body drained out of his balls.

Without breaking their eye contact she drew him back into her mouth. This time his shaft was slick and her lips slid down with ease.
“Enough.”
Charlie pulled back until only her lips were pressed against the head of his cock, like a bizarrely chaste first-date kiss.
“God, darlin’, that mouth of yours…”
She drove down again, as deep as she could get without choking, gripping the base with one hand and stroking his tight sac with the other.
“Fucking hell.”

He ploughed into her with short, sharp thrusts, satisfying himself with her flesh. The warmth between their bodies was oppressive and her orgasm seemed to swell in the pressure, blowing out like an overheated balloon.
“Oh God, James, James, James.”
“You’re gonna cream, aren’t you, bitch?”
Charlie had never been so sure of anything. He could pull out and leave her empty and she’d still come.
James chuckled. “Even when I use you like a blow-up doll, you get off. Know why that is, Charlotte?” He whispered the words in her ear like it was a childhood secret, like a prayer. “Because you’re my whore.”
Charlie screamed so loud the sound ate up the world. James pumped, once, twice, three times, then went rigid behind her, swearing like a sailor. They shuddered like animals, riding out their climaxes until they were both completely drained.

“Hey there,” he said, smirking like the arrogant prick he was.
Didn’t he know he was ruining her with that lazy, insolent smile, with his tight abs and broad chest and his stupid square-jawed face? Who would she want to date after this? Who would ever want to be compared to him? He opened his mouth, possibly to offer another pointless greeting, and Charlie threw herself on him. She kissed him in punishment for making her wait this long, for destroying her chances of being content with some middling nice guy. She kissed the arrogant look right off his face.
Soon she forgot everything except the feel of his lips against hers. His hands drew her forward and she eagerly clambered into his lap. They consumed each other, rocking slightly in his office chair until she hoped that by “lunch” James meant “a covet fuck against my desk.”

“If I was you, I’d be coming right now, instead of bored.” His blasé attitude was somewhat undermined by the small wet stain seeping through the front of his briefs.
Charlie pulled his underwear halfway down his hard thighs. “We’ll see how boring I am, Mr. Hunter.”
She examined him, stroking lightly over his blood-swollen cock, and when his dick pulsed in her hands, she bent forward to trace every last pulsing vein with her tongue. Slowly.
“I know what you want, girl, and it’s not happening,” James warned.
“What’s not happening?”
“I ain’t gonna beg. You can tease me as much as you want and I’m just gonna lie here, silent as the grave.”

“Baby, I’m gonna go off. Come up here and sit on my face.”
“Beg.”
“Please,” James said with what appeared to be the utmost sincerity. “Please, honey, I need to make you come. Put that pussy down on my face. I’ll stay tied up, I just have to get you off. Please.”
Charlie hesitated. “I’ll taste like lube from the condom…”
“I don’t give a fuck. I’ll do anything, Charlotte, just…please?”
She couldn’t battle her submissive urges any longer, she scrambled up the bed and positioned her legs on either side of his head.
“Fuck yeah.” James arched his neck and eagerly drew his tongue through her cunt. The noise he made, like a starving man tasting chocolate, turned her skin white-hot. “That’s it, girl, don’t move a fucking muscle. Lemme take care of you.”

“James!”
She threw her head back so far her body was an arch, rutting her hips against his talented mouth. He sucked her harder, urging every last vibration out of her climax. When she finally pulled away, there was no trace of arrogance on James’ face, no cocky sense of achievement. “Get on me. Get on my dick right now.”
She climbed down his bound body and drew him inside her tingling, tortured flesh. He was close, she could feel it. She clamped herself around him and the aftershocks from her first climax throbbed to life.
“Use me, Charlotte.” James’ voice was harsh. “Ride my fucking cock.”

He’d opened his door on Tuesday night to find Charlotte in a trench coat. She removed it to reveal an outfit that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a pole dancer; black stockings, a tiny, ruffled skirt and a sheer, black corset. The sight of her sweet face contrasted by such slutty underwear completely blindsided him. Before he knew what was happening, Charlotte was on her knees, unbuckling his belt and giving him the slowest, hottest blowjob he could ever remember getting. She’d sucked him lightly, running her tongue down his shaft and over his sac so slow he could feel the come surging up his shaft. In the final throes, she’d wet a fingertip and sunk it in his ass. He’d come so hard sparks had popped behind his eyes.

She walked toward her bedroom with legs that felt like jelly. Rummaging through her lingerie she selected ruffled cream panties and a sheer babydoll negligee that cupped her breasts and flowed down to her hips like the world’s most inappropriate dress. Figuring she’d go all out, she applied lipstick and mascara and slipped on her black Mary Jane shoes. She inspected herself quickly in the mirror.
Nothing like a troll doll. Good.
When she emerged into the kitchen, James’ mouth flattened into a straight line. He beckoned her closer, eyes cataloguing every detail. As much as Charlie wanted his mouth to fall open, she’d learned that the more potent James’ reaction to her body was, the more it looked like anger. When he’d opened the door to find her in stripper clothes, he looked like he wanted to punch a hole in the wall.

“James, can you hold me down?”
“Anything you want. Anything.”
He seized her delicate wrists and pulled them over her head, pinning them with one hand. Charlotte’s inner muscles clamped around him, as though she was determined to draw the come up from his balls.
“Oh Lord. Tell me you’re close, sweetheart?”
Her eyes were wild. Desperate. “I’m so close, please keep going. I need you.”
I need you.
The words went straight to his dick, filling him with a strange spiraling warmth.

She pushed him onto his back and he let her, kissing her breasts as they went over. He felt her wet heat kiss the top of his dick and moaned.
“I swear, we don’t have to do this, baby.” He searched her eyes for reservation. There was none. Pushing aside any last doubts, James flexed his hips and slid himself inside her hot, bare cunt.
Oh my fucking God.
He wanted to die. He wanted to live and die in Charlotte’s pussy. She was warmer and tighter than anything he’d ever imagined, her wetness enveloping him in ways that felt both physical and not.

“Stay. Finish with me like this.”
She moved against him in short sweet strokes, her hair tumbling around her shoulders. The words he couldn’t say before tumbled out. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Charlotte. I love this, I love your body.”
Her response was to reach down and kiss him, pressing her entire body along his chest and bathing him in her scent. He sank back into the floor, dissolving into pure sensation. What they were doing was a million miles from fucking. It was that whiskey-warm feeling he’d gotten from taking her under the covers in her bedroom amplified to a thousand-fold. Every pressure point from his jaw to his toes was tingling.

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