Review: Punk 57 by Penelope Douglas

Format: E-Bookpunk57
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: New Adult
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Misha Lare
Heroine: Ryen Trevarrow
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: October 21, 2016
Started On: April 29, 2019
Finished On: May 05, 2019

It has been seven years since Misha and Ryen started corresponding via letters as part of a school project which had paired students from both classes. Misha and Ryen had continues on that path long after the school project  is over, and become each other’s confidante along the way. At the same time, both Misha and Ryen had steered clear of using any other mediums of communication, lest what was between them become less special.

All of that changes after one fateful night when Misha completely disappears, leaving Ryen worried, wondering what it is that had put a stop to their communication with one another. At the same time, the new student at school who goes by the name Masen Laurent is far from the “friendly” sort, who manages to stir up trouble in more ways than one. In fact, Masen goes out of his way to be hostile towards Ryen, bringing all her deepest and darkest insecurities to the forefront.

Masen/Misha is on a mission that he would not deviate from and if Ryen had turned out to be less than what he had perceived her to be in his mind; what Ryen had portrayed herself to be throughout their communications, Misha is determined to bring Ryen down from the high horse upon which she is perched. However, what both Misha and Ryen do not count on is the deep-seated attraction between them which refuses to die down, no matter what.

While I enjoyed Punk 57, I would not say that this was my favorite out of every Penelope Douglas novel that I have read thus far. I found the teenage angst and drama often distracting and at certain points, I was definitely rolling my eyes. But at the heart of it all, Penelope Douglas manages to tell a decent story and also surprised me with how she brought the twists and turns into it. Through it all, Penelope managed to create characters who stood out for various reasons, some being less favorable than others.

But at the end of the day it is about where you lead your characters or perhaps where they lead you. Ryen and Misha leads you to a good place in the end and that is what matters. Misha’s confrontation with his mother was the best thing about the story for me, something that I didn’t foresee coming. Those surprises in a novel where you least expect them are the best. The lyrics that Misha writes that were very much a part of the story were highlights too. I just wish I could listen to some of them for real.

Recommended for those who love teen angst in their romances. Penelope Douglas brings in her special magic to it which makes everything work.

Final Verdict: Misha and Ryen’s journey begins at a point where everything is fraught with the ugly bits life has to offer. With Penelope’s intuitive writing, it is hard not to be caught up in the magic the story delivers.

Favorite Quotes

She arches up on her hands, meeting me halfway as her hot, little breaths fan across my lips. Her eyes fall to my mouth.
“What does it feel like?” she asks quietly, reaching a timid finger out and touching my lip piercing.
I groan, challenging her. “You tell me.”
She locks eyes with me as if scared, but then her gaze falls again to the piercing. Opening her mouth just slightly, she darts out her tongue and flicks the ring.
I groan again, unable to keep my eyes from falling shut. The wet heat from that small spot filters across my face, down my neck, and swoops low in my stomach, making my fingers dig into the leather seats.

His eyes drop to my lips, and he leans in, both of our breaths turning shallow, and I can almost taste him.
I lick my lips.
And he loses it.
He reaches down, grabs the backs of my thighs and hauls me up, and I wrap my arms and legs around him, letting out a small whimper. Yes.
I part my lips, running them over the lip ring and savoring the feel as he groans and digs his fingers into my thighs. I tighten my legs around him, needing to feel him.
“Bitch,” he whispers.
“Loser.”
And when I dart out the tip of my tongue to lick the little piece of metal again, he’s done being patient.

“Oh, my God,” she whimpers. “Masen, no.”
“Why not?” I hold her jaw, trailing kisses across her cheek as I pump my fingers inside her. “You think your friends will hate you when they find out you’re a slut who loves getting finger-fucked on a floor.”
I slide my fingers all the way in and back out a few times in long, full strokes, before bringing them up and rubbing her clit. She moans, arching her back, and my cock strains against my jeans, begging to grow.
“Yes.” She licks my lip ring, rubbing her ass into my dick. “I’m afraid they’ll find out I like it.”

“You turn me on.” He cups my face, brushing my hair away from my eyes and a tear off my cheek. “God, you turn me on. You’re driving me crazy. I want you to need my hands on you. Do you?”
I hold his eyes, seeing the pleading in his. Seeing, for the first time, the need. He’s desperate to hear me say it.
And I know right then and there I want to be the only girl he ever looks at like that.

Grabbing my waist, he brings me in close, forcing me up higher on my knees so that my breast is level with his mouth.
“Masen,” I gasp as he grabs my left nipple between his teeth, sending shocks through my system and right down between my thighs. “Oh, my God, we can’t.”
But he sucks the whole damn thing into his mouth, and I grip his shoulders, my eyes flutter closed and not giving a damn that half our class is right outside.
“Yes,” I whimper, losing my breath and wrapping one arm around his neck, holding him closer.

He suddenly pulls away from me, and I look to see him pulling his shirt over his head. I briefly see the rest of the tattoos trailing up his arm and over his shoulder, as well as the few across his chest and stomach.
He pulls me to him again, pressing his chest against mine. “I want to feel your skin on mine.”
He palms my breast with one hand while slipping the other down the back of my shorts and squeezing my ass.
I gaze into his green eyes, both of us breathing hard, but I see him pause, as if he’s suddenly not sure about something. And all of a sudden, I’m not worried about getting caught. I’m worried about him stopping.
Don’t stop.

My chest rises and falls, the incredible feeling wracking through my body, up to my head and down to my feet.
Masen lowers his hand, palming my breast before letting go. He rises up and leans over me, putting a hand on the door behind me to hold himself up as he unbuttons his jeans. My heart picks up pace again.
His hard eyes stare down at me, filled with lust. “Take off the thong, or I’m ripping it off.”

He kisses me, and I barely have time to adjust to him before he pulls out and thrusts back in, stretching me so good.

“Oh, God.” The sounds of the movie play in the distance, and I hear the muffled voices of people not far off.
But all I see is him. His lips hovering over mine, his breath warming my skin, his fucking that’s getting harder and faster as he thrusts between my thighs.
I look up, seeing his hand still gripping the door, the muscles in his arms bulging and tight.
“Look at me,” he whispers.
I drop my eyes back down as I lick his piercing and hear him growl under his breath.

“Masen,” I beg, licking and biting his neck and feeling myself coming again. “It feels so good.”
He slides a hand under my ass and nestles in deeper, grunting as he fucks me rougher. I hear a noise underneath us, from the truck, and I cast a worried glance around. “Go slow!” I plead. “The truck…”
But he growls and comes down, kissing and biting my lips. I slide my hands down, gripping his ass and keeping him close, and he thrusts his dick inside me again and again.
“Yes, yes,” I moan over and over, feeling another orgasm crest as I taunt him with quick, little kisses.

“Show me what you do with it,” I beg.
Her eyes flash up to me, worry and nervousness written all over her face.
I glide my fingers over her hard nipples. “I’ll love everything you do. I promise.”
She shakes her head.
I grip her breast harder, a little whimper catching in her throat.
“Do it now,” I growl, demanding.
Her head falls back, and she squirms a little, clearly turned on, and I moan in her ear, my dick fucking solid.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N

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Review: Lachlan’s Protégé by V.F. Mason

Format: E-Booklachlansprotege.jpg
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Lachlan (Kaden Scott)
Heroine: Valencia Moore
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: August 15, 2018
Started On: April 19, 2019
Finished On: May 05, 2019

Lachlan’s Protégé by V.F. Mason is spectacular in the spellbinding tale it delivers. Like one of the reviewers on Goodreads has mentioned, V.F. Mason is unapologetic in the way she writes, the darkness that she brings to her stories, and the anti-heroes that she creates.

While Lachlan’s Protégé pretty much gives out similar vibes as Psychopath’s Prey, there are of course the differences that made this book worth every minute I spent reading it. Lachlan’s Protégé begins at a point where other stories would perhaps be reaching their climax. It is the way V.F. Mason puts it forth, taking readers back and forth along a journey where you cannot help but be invested in the lives of the characters you are reading about.

Lachlan, otherwise known as Kaden Scott, is an enigma amongst the circles within which he moves. Lachlan has one goal in life – to seek out the man upon whom he wants revenge. And if it means getting to that goal through Valencia Moore, an innocent who remains largely unaware of the evil that had been so close to her, so be it. In Lachlan’s mind there is no line that he would not cross to reach ultimate victory. What he never counted on perhaps, was that his need for Valencia would surpass his desire for vengeance above everything else.

Lachlan’s Protégé is not an easy read by any means. There is a wealth of emotion packed into this story as it takes readers through the lives of the younger versions of Valencia and Lachlan, both seeming to intertwine at one point. Valencia lives a sheltered life, pretty much clueless to the darker emotions that had clouded the marriage between her parents, which had ultimately broken up, with her mother having never given her any reasons as to why.

Lachlan is the character that makes you bleed profusely in cuts that are small and yet lethal. It makes you cringe in fear and also weep for the boy he was, who through no fault of his own finds himself prey to the darkest elements of society. Being abused at such a tender age, and reaching adulthood pretty much the same way has left its mark on Lachlan, something he refuses to give up, something he harnesses as his weapon of destruction of the same kind who preys on the most innocent and vulnerable.

The ending when it came was spectacular in the way everything came together. What I loved the most was reading the epilogue. Even knowing that Lachlan would never conform to the “norms” that society expects of a “hero”, there is no other sentiment in my heart but love for him. Love for the little boy he was who grew up in a world so cruel, love for the man he was, and love for the man he would always be.

There is a certain kind of acceptance that we all go through when we enter into long-term relationships or marriage with our better halves. For Victoria, it is an acceptance that reaches far beyond what normal couples would have to. But knowing what she knows of Lachlan and what she means to him, even though he may never say the words, it is in the way he lights up her world in all the ways that matter.

This story leaves me with a deeply resonating message. We as a society need to talk more about these kinds of issues, what it means to generations that grow up having gone through abuse so vile that we cannot even comprehend what it is like. We need to do more to weed out the evil, to protect the vulnerable. But we cannot hope to do that if we are unwilling to open our minds and hearts to what it means to actually undergo abuse as such, what it could do to the psychology of the person who undergoes that abuse. People spend their entire lives going through therapy and psychiatric treatment for the same. Seeing the abuser meet a violent end, is perhaps the only cathartic experience under such circumstances.

Final Verdict: Thought provoking and gut wrenching; there is darkness through which light seeps. The best one can hope for is for the light and dark to coexist. Recommended.

Favorite Quotes

Nipping on her sensitive skin, I still her in my arms. Her back arches under my touch when I kick her legs apart a little and slide my hand lower to her pussy. “Do you see how gorgeous she is? Flushed, against me, with her body begging me to touch her and pleasure her. Why would I need any reason but that to want her?” Sucking on her earlobe, I quickly bite it before skimming my lips over her ear, and whisper, “What would you want me to do, Valencia? All this sassy attitude needs punishment, doesn’t it?” She moans, pressing harder against me. “Do you need my fingers?” I probe her a little, just enough to give her clit a little friction through her leggings. “My tongue? I remember you could get off on it for hours.”

He spins me around and crushes his mouth to mine, changing my question into a moan as he slides his hands down my ass and hikes me up, leaving me no choice but to wrap my legs around him while my arms circle his neck.
His kiss is demanding, passionate yet punishing in a way that brings me pain along with pleasure. As if he wants me to forever remember the imprint of it but at the same time hates that he is doing it.
Hates that he needs me.

“Look at you, all flushed and ready for the taking. I could fuck you against the wall now and you’d scratch my back, welcoming every thrust. Right, Valencia?” he prompts, bending me forward, and then I feel my breasts press against the bed, the movement arching my ass up to him, and his hand palms it, molding and then squeezing, earning himself a moan. “But that’s not how I will give it to you tonight. You deserve to be denied a little for all the fucking hell you put me through.” And that’s when he spanks me, his palm bouncing off my ass cheek, and I still.

When I’m about to lose my freaking mind, he rises up, unbinds my wrists, and I hear the foil packet being ripped open. Then I feel him nudge against me, sliding his cock up and down over my heat, spreading the wetness all over me. He murmurs, “Fucking finally,” and enters me, stretching me wide, not even giving me time to adjust to his cock as he drags it out and slides back in, matching my gasp with his as we both groan.
He is right.
Fucking finally.

A moan slips past my lips, and he lets go of my mouth, trailing kisses down my neck while I throw my head back, groaning at his bites that will for sure leave marks for everyone to see.
I don’t dwell on it much as he rolls my shirt over my head and sends it flying behind me. His tongue circles my pointed nipple and licks the tip but then bites on it hard. I cry out in pain, scratching the back of his head, but still seeking his touch as it sends prickles of electricity through my skin.
“There is beauty in the ache, angel,” he rasps, immediately licking the abused flesh and driving me even wilder. “I know you like it long and hard, darling, but tonight it’s going to be only hard.”

I hear the belt buckle being unfastened, and then he places his palms on my knees, bringing me closer to the edge, and with one swift move, he flips me over again, and we end up on the floor, with me straddling him once more. My head goes dizzy and I can barely comprehend what’s going on, as he growls in approval.
“Have to keep you off-balance so you feel nothing but this.” And that’s when he enters me, filling me to the hilt. My arms automatically wrap around his neck as my cry echoes in the room, followed by his low groan, our lips inches away from each other.

My body aches, my nipples pucker, and I moan around the head before sucking on it lightly. What I’m doing must send vibrations through him, because I’m roughly hauled up, and without giving me a chance to take a breath, he tears the nightgown away. I only have time to blink as he throws me on the bed where I bounce, ending up on my back.
My heart stills and then gallops again as I see the expression on his face when he removes the strands of hair that fell over my face.
I think the gentle part has ended and I’m about to be fucked hard.

Sucking her neck, I make sure to leave my mark on it so she’ll always fucking remember who makes her body ache, and before she knows what’s happening, I enter her with one swift move, digging my fingers into her ass, adjusting her for a better angle.
Fuck, she is tight, so fucking tight I almost lose it right there. I catch my breath as she cries out and wraps her legs around me, pushing into my ass. “Move, Lachlan.”
“You are not in charge, darling,” I say, thrusting deep as her breath hitches. “I am.”

Her pussy clenches around me, her mouth hangs open, and her eyes fill with pleasure. A cry tears out of her throat and she falls back on the pillow, her chest rising and falling, my cock still drilling inside her, deeper, deeper, and deeper, finding solace in her heat and seeking the calmness only she can give me.
Then I feel it. The tingling of my spine, my balls draw closer, and finally I spill into her as pleasure unlike anything I’ve experienced before washes over me, almost knocking me out completely.

Purchase Links: Amazon

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Review: Preacher Man by Jessa Kane

Format: E-Bookpreacherman
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novella
Genre: Erotic Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Joseph Stark
Heroine: Mila
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: February 23, 2019
Started On: April 10, 2019
Finished On: April 10, 2019

I’ve done it.
I’ve made her my wife.
I’ve satisfied her.
I’ve claimed her, made her mine.

Preacher Man is a classic example of a properly done novella that delivers nothing but a healthy dose of smut. My first Jessa Kane turned out to be delightful in many ways, and perhaps delightful is too tame a word to convey the kind of scenes that she delivers in this short story.

Preacher Man is told in the first person, in both the hero (Joseph Stark) and the heroine (Mila)’s point of view. Mila is drawn to Joseph like a moth to a burning flame, as if the glow from the fire has been growing brighter by the day, beckoning the “evil” within her, or so she thinks. Little does she know that the town’s new preacher, who turned up just a year back, is just as drawn to her as she is to him.

Joseph is a man who is the furthest thing from a preacher. Having led a questionable life in the past, Joseph is a man with enemies who could do anyone he brings close to him a lot of harm. However, even that does not stop his possessive self from claiming innocent Mila as his own and ensure that she is his, forever.

I loved the short story this delivered, perhaps the perfect antidote from the lackluster reads that had disappointed the romance reader in me from the couple of books I had finished just prior to this. At least with a novella, you understand that there would not be much character building that would happen, but in Preacher Man, Kane did just enough to satisfy the need in me to make an emotional connection with the readers. I would have been disappointed had it been otherwise.

While there was an aspect to the story that I could have done without (I have never understood this need to call your partner daddy and I don’t think I ever will), I enjoyed the rest of the book with the sheer abandon that comes only from having a great book in your hands.

The epilogue tucked at the end made my day. I so love myself a hopelessly smitten couple, and a dangerous hero (otherwise), who is nothing but a possessive sweetheart when it comes to the woman he loves, above all else.

Recommended if you love a good smutty novella.

Final Verdict: Smut of the feel good variety! Kane delivers steam that accelerates not just your pulse but sets into overdrive your imagination in ways you never thought possible!

Favorite Quotes

“You wore this scrap of nothing to tease me, didn’t you?” I growl, ripping my mouth away so I can see her face when I thrust my cock into the notch of her thighs. Watching Mila’s eyes roll into the back of her head, feeling her legs begin to shake, I do it again and press my mouth to her ear. “You knew you’d break me.”
“I hoped so,” she hiccupped, her knees digging into my ribs. “I’ve been hurting so bad.”
“Shhh. I’m going to make it all better.” I lick my way through the hollow of her throat, using my hold on her bottom to ride her up and down my cock. “I’m going to fuck the ache away every day for the rest of your life.”

More moisture coats my thighs under Joseph’s watchful blue eyes and he groans, falling to his knees on the floor, lunging forward on his elbows to lick me straight up the center. A scream catches in my throat, my vision wavering. H-he licked me. There. A sensation I’ve never known gathers in my middle, a storm full of thunderheads preparing to break. And that’s before Joseph finds that secret nub at the very top of my flesh—I never thought to look that high—batting it with his tongue, before lightly sucking. Then he’s alternating between the gentle suction and rolling the flat of his tongue over me, side to side, teasing it with quick, little flickers.
“Oh my God,” I scream, my head thrashing side to side on the pillow, wrists yanking at the bonds. “My God, my God, my God.”

I can’t wait any longer,” I growl, coming to a kneel and unbuttoning my shirt as fast as I can, ripping it off and throwing it aside. Until I’m shirtless, I forget my tattoos have been hidden from view since coming to town.
But I remember when Mila’s eyes go as wide as silver dollars.
“Daddy,” she breathes, raking me with her gaze. “You are a bad man.”
With my teeth bared, I take hold of the neckline of her dress and rip it down the center, leaving her completely naked. My personal virgin sacrifice—and she’s even more incredible than I could have ever envisioned with her dusky nipples, rounded hips and open thighs. I take my cock and smack it against her pussy, spend dribbling from my tip to slip into her folds. “I’m your bad man now, little girl.”

I grind down one more time on his ample girth and let myself fly. Coming. I’m coming. Freefalling through a star studded night sky, my eyes rolling back in my head and everything below my waist squeezing hard, pulsating, pulsating and then I can do nothing but shake while relief courses through me, adrenaline still whipping in my blood stream. And love. My heart won’t let me forget about that.
I watch through half-mast eyes as the man who embodies love to me groans through the throes of his own peak, his hips jackknifing up and lifting me out of the water, his hands yanking me up and back, up and back on his lap, forcing me to ride him straight through to the end, the warmth of his spend jetting inside me.

“Brace your hands on the tree,” I rasp, unbuckling the belt of my dress pants. “I’m in need.”
“Me too,” she hiccups, doing as she’s told.
The act of lifting her hands has raised the hem of her white dress and I lift it higher now, overcome by the sight of her thighs, her supple butt cheeks. An emerald green strap of silk is tucked down the center—one of the new thongs I bought her—and I pull those panties down now, letting them fall at her ankles. I reach around the front of her body to slide a finger through the folds of her pussy, ensuring she’s warm, wet and ready, before I grip my cock and cram it up inside her, grunting into her smooth neck, growing louder with every inch she accepts. “Tilt your hips back,” I growl.

I reach under my dress and tug down my panties, goose bumps flying up my skin at Joseph’s starved expression, the way he groans when my panties hit the sand, that huge part of him bulging behind his fly. Wide eyed, I bite my lip and hitch my legs up around his waist. “Is it playtime, Daddy?”
Joseph fumbles with his zipper and finds my entrance with his erection, bouncing me five, six, seven times until I’m fully impaled and we’re both moaning. “It’s always playtime when we’re alone, little girl.”
And with the sea roaring behind us, we play fiercely, we love obsessively.
We begin our forever.

Purchase Links: Amazon

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Review: Cold & Deadly by Toni Anderson

Format: E-Bookcoldanddeadly.jpeg
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: Cold Justice: Crossfire, #1
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Dominic Sheridan
Heroine: Ava Kanas
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: February 12, 2019
Started On: March 25, 2019
Finished On: April 01, 2019

Cold and Deadly is the debut book in the Cold Justice: Crossfire series by Toni Anderson, one of my favorite romantic suspense authors out there. Cold and Deadly begins with a funeral proceeding for FBI retired agent Van Stamos, who had allegedly taken his own life with the service weapon FBI had gifted him after thirty years of service. Special Agent Ava Kanas is the only one who doubts that Van had taken his own life, which brings her under the focus of Supervisory Special Agent Dominic Sheridan, who at first is skeptical of what Ava has to say and suspicious of her motives.

In his mid-thirties, Dominic is an expert in the Crisis Negotiation Unit, and comes from well connected family. Ava is a rookie agent, having being mentored by Van before he left service. Even though Van had all good things to say about Ava when they had crossed paths prior to his death, Dominic is not a man as easily persuaded, which is why he has a hard time at first when Ava comes out with her theory that Van could not have taken his own life. That is until the funeral proceedings is interrupted by a deadly sniper willing to take as many lives as possible with every bullet fired.

Once Dominic discovers that there could be truth to Ava’s hunch, that is when things get interesting in the story, bringing in favorites from the Cold Justice series to complement the team we meet in this book. Ava, acting as Dominic’s bodyguard, comes face to face with a past she would rather forget if she could, and the close quarters in which they both operate breaks down the walls holding the tide of desire between them at bay.

With the hunt fully on in pursuit of a killer who is cunning in the extreme, it is a race against time that Dominic and Ava embark on, to find the truth behind the spate of killings targeting specific FBI agents.

I loved Cold and Deadly to bits. Now here is a story that delivers on both fronts; romance and the suspense, in spades. A hefty dose of sexual heat and romance, with nail biting suspense is what any romantic suspense fan could ask for, and Toni Anderson certainly delivers with this number.

Though Ava started off as a bit defensive in the story, understandable given where she was coming from, I fell in love with her soon after. Her dogged determination to pursue the truth, even at great cost to her own career and reputation is one reason why I loved her. There are no pretenses to be had with Ava, which is how I love my heroines. Any character that acts wily and plays hard to get just because, gets on my nerves big time. But Ava is a perfect balance of independence, vulnerability, and playfulness which came to light during scenes of passion between her and Dominic.

In Dominic (sigh, Dominic), Toni created the perfect male specimen (if ever there is such a thing). I am not kidding. Dominic is off the charts hot in a way that is indescribable. He just walks into the story and practically owns the page he strode on. There is arrogance that comes from multiple years in service, and given that he is a top notch hostage negotiator who got where he is by honest work when he could have taken the easier path to “success” was what earned my admiration for him. Bottom line? I loved Dominic and could definitely read more about heroes like him. A reader can send out hints, can’t she?

What was most intriguing about the story for me was the case that brings about all of the present events, culminating in the deaths of multiple FBI agents. That kind of premise deserves its own book, so that readers like myself can crawl under covers with our Kindles and get startled every time the wind blows a hefty gust, bringing with it thoughts of creepy houses in woodlands and makeshift graveyards that haunt.

Can’t wait to see where Toni takes characters like Charlotte Blood and Dominic’s boss, Chief Negotiator of the FBI, Unit Chief Quentin Savage. I even checked Toni’s website to look up a date of release for the next book to no avail. That is how excited I am!

Definitely recommended!

Final Verdict: Cold & Deadly is wonderful debut striking that perfect balance between romance and suspense. With fascinating new characters and favorites from the Cold Justice series; what more could a reader ask for?

Favorite Quotes

God, she felt good. Tight. Hot. Aroused. He made sure every thrust hit all the good spots, angling her hips to doubly make sure. His injured shoulder was feeling no pain right now.
He wanted to take it slow, but the desire cruising his blood was stoking his body to a boiling point. He counted to one hundred in French to stop himself losing it. Even when Ava spasmed around him he held on until he could breathe again, slowing it down, wanting it to last forever.

As she started to tighten around him for the second time, he locked his arms around her hips and slammed into her so forcefully he was worried he might hurt her. Then she cried out again and they climaxed together, him gripping her tight and holding back a roar that would have brought backup bursting through the door.
Ava shuddered and sank against him, their hearts beating in unison.
Holy shit.

She straddled his thighs and he watched, glad that the light from the adjoining room spilled through the open doorway brightly enough to reveal every detail.
He slid his hands between her legs. Her pupils widened as he sank two fingers inside, driving her up onto her knees in shocked surprise. Her muscles clamped around him as he found her g-spot and made her cry out.
Her post-orgasmic smile made his toes curl. She inched forward and took hold of him, rubbing the head of his cock against her clit until he was the one squirming.
“Dear God, Ava, if I don’t get inside you soon…” he pleaded.

She held herself still long enough for him to catch his breath, and then she started moving. Riding him slowly at first, finding a rhythm and a depth that pleased her. And he hung on for the ride, gripping her thighs like a man dangling off a cliff. If she didn’t have bruises tomorrow it would be a damned miracle. And still he couldn’t let go. Finally, her breath caught, and he drove harder, deeper, pushing for that climax. Wanting and needing nothing except to share that moment with this woman.
It started like an explosion from his balls to his tip, a warm rush that filled him with exquisite joy.

“I guess you’re awake.” Her voice rose sharply as he pinched the tip her breast.
“I’m awake.” His voice was deep and sent a ripple of anticipation through her body.
She heard the rustle of a wrapper, and her mouth went dry with want.
He parted her thighs and didn’t even check that she was ready for him. He knew. He knew how turned on she was and how desperate she was for him to fill her up.
She groaned when he did. Panted and clawed the sheets as sensation rocked her. His thrusts made her want this never to end, never to stop. To lie here forever with that delicious friction gliding through her body, ratcheting the tension higher and higher until her nerves felt like guitar strings about to snap.

“Dom,” she groaned.
He lay flat against her, taking most of his weight on his elbows, but still immobilizing her with his strength, only the tip of him inside her, making her hungry for more, making her want to back into him and take him deeper.
“What?” His breath brushed her ear before his teeth bit gently into her earlobe.
“Please…” It was as close to begging as she’d ever get. As close to telling him how much she wanted him—not just his body—but him, all of him.
What was it about this man that hooked into a woman’s blood stream and made her addicted? No wonder women turned up on his doorstep with offerings.
Fuck me and I’ll bake for you. Fuck me and I’ll do anything…

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

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Review: Raid by Kristen Ashley

Format: E-bookraid_ka.jpg
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Unfinished Hero, #3
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Raiden Ulysses Miller
Heroine: Hanna Boudreaux
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: February 25, 2013
Started On: December 27, 2018
Finished On: December 28, 2018

It has been a while since I read a Kristen Ashley novel, Dream Man being my introduction to her work, a book that has remained on my favorite shelf since then. Raid is the third book in the series entitled Unfinished Heroes. I skipped the first two books and jumped straight into this one, mainly for one reason. I was looking for an angst-filled read of the variety where the heroine has been in love with hero, without him even acknowledging her existence. I found this title on a recommendation thread somewhere, and knowing that Kristen Ashley’s series’ usually allows a reader to skip a couple of books and wade right in, I went ahead and did just that.

Raiden Ulysses Miller (Raid) is ex-military, having moved back to Willow, Colorado, after returning from war a scarred man, a man who keeps his dark secrets hidden well. Like I mentioned at the beginning of this review, the heroine Hanna Boudreaux (Hanna) has been in love with Raid for a long, long time. She has watched him and admired him from afar as he went from being the most popular boy in school to the young adult who had taken on the responsibility of his family after his father had left, and how he had joined the Marines afterwards. His return as a war hero had been a big deal for the town, and all the while, Hanna had watched from the sidelines, hoping that someday, he would notice him.

However, there comes a point where Hanna realizes that her dreams are nothing but castles built in the air. Things take a radical turn when Hanna, determined to get over the funk in her life makes some changes which brings her in contact with new people, and ultimately becomes the focus of Raid, the man who Hanna never ever thought would even glance her way.

From the onset, the chemistry between Raid and Hanna are off the charts steamy, and while at the beginning there seemed to be an awkwardness on the part of Hanna where Raid was concerned, that quickly dissipated in the face of the truth Hanna has to face when it comes to what exactly had brought Raid into her life.

There is a continuing story that ties the books in the series together, which plays a pivotal role in determining the direction of Hanna and Raid’s story as well. While I enjoyed the magic that Kristen Ashley undeniably weaves in her stories, this one being no exception, there were certain elements in the story that I found to be a bit difficult to take in.

For instance, how Raid completely loses it and does something that I thought no hero would dare to do in a story written in an era which is so politically correct as ours. But then again, I understood the aspect from which that scene came up, how PTSD could realistically contribute to something of the nature. I believe the saving grace under the circumstance was how Hanna reacted, taking back control of the relationship when it mattered, and where it mattered.

There was one another aspect to the story that kept nagging at me; having read two Kristen Ashley books prior to this, I cannot help but feel that all her characters have the same “voice” to them. The heroes, of course, are all very hot – sexy, brooding, take your breathe away kinda hot – but when they start talking, it is as if you are reading about the same character, different name, different context.

However, this does not mean that I am not going to continue picking up a Kristen Ashley every now and then to immerse myself in. It is because of the fact that even with all that did not work for me in the book, Kristen does manage to tell a helluva story, which is why I can safely say that her books are an enjoyable form of escape, every time.

Final Verdict: Raid is explosive in a way that leaves you gasping for breathe, wanting more. Always wanting more.

Favorite Quotes

I lifted my hand, wrapped my fingers around his bicep, leaned in and went up on my toes.
I pressed my lips to his.
They felt great.
So great, I couldn’t take more. That was all I was could do. That took all the courage
I had left. I didn’t want to know how good it could be and never have it again, even if it was fake.
So that was it.
But Raiden…
He was good at faking.
The master.

Whatever it was, it was like nothing I’d ever experienced. Nothing I even knew existed.
And something I wanted never to end.
It was huge. Consuming. The world melted away and there was just Raiden, his arms, his big, hard body, his mouth and his tongue.
I couldn’t get enough. I couldn’t give enough.
And Raiden felt exactly the same.
I knew this when he arched me into the car, pressing close, hips, chest, lips.
I knew it more when his hands slid down over my bottom and he jerked me up.

I didn’t notice this mostly because we left town behind in a blink, and we no sooner did that when his hand wrapped around the back of my neck and he roughly yanked me his way. Shoving my face in his neck, his other hand quickly captured my wrist and pulled it to him, then smoothed my hand over his hard crotch.
It was so hot, so forbidden, so dangerous; it felt like fireworks exploded in the car, their sparks landing everywhere, all over me, dazzling me at the same time making me burn.

I twisted back just as Raiden’s hand slid between my legs.
That felt so good, all my concentration centered on that feeling. I dropped the condom and my back left the bed as my lips parted on a silent moan.
“Thank fuck, soaked,” Raiden growled. I forced myself to right my head and look at him. “Spread, baby.”
I didn’t hesitate.
I spread.

I felt it building. My hand dipped under his tee, my head jerked up. It was going to be so huge it was going destroy me.
“Raiden,” I gasped, my voice harsh with passion and edged with fear.
“Give in, baby,” he grunted, still driving me down as he thrust up.
“Sweetheart, it’s—”
His mouth came to mine. “Give into it, honey.”
I gave in. I had no choice. And when I did, my fingernails dug into his back, scoring up; his hips ground deep into mine as his back arched. A hot, amazing groan rolled up his throat and he came with me.

“I’m gonna guide you on me then you’re gonna take over, and when you do, you’re gonna fuck me slow.”
I held his eyes and my voice trembled when I told him, “I don’t know if I can do slow, Raid.”
When I said his name, his eyes flashed, but his lips said, “Slow, Hanna.”
“I—”
“Trust me.”

“Fuck, but my girl is fucking magnificent,” he rumbled. “Harder, baby, fuck me.”
I fucked him harder, gasping, whimpering, moaning. One of my hands slid into his hair and just like his at mine, it fisted. Hard.
“That’s it, baby, ride me,” he grunted as I moved. “Fuck. Magnificent. You gonna give it to me?”
“Yes,” I whispered, and his hand left my breast, traveled down and shot between my legs.
“Then give it to me,” he ordered.
His thumb tweaked my clit and that was all I needed.
I drove down and grinded in. My head flew back, my back arched and I cried out as
I flew apart.

No sooner was I in place then his cock slammed into me.
My head flew back and I came.
I wasn’t close to finishing when he pulled out, turned and lifted me and impaled me on his cock. Then I was back to the bed, taking him until he thrust to the root, grinding, and he came for me, his face in my neck, his teeth sinking sharp into my skin.

Then get my tee off and position for me. Your choice, baby, show me how you wanna take me.”
I instantly pulled his tee off and threw it to the side. I got on my back, opened my legs and he was there, slamming into me.
I rounded him completely with my limbs, lifted up my hips, glided my nails up his back and pleaded, “Harder, Raid.”
“Fuck. Wild. Wet. Mine,” he groaned, his face in my neck.

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

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Review: The Lion’s Courtship by Annelie Wendeberg

Formathelionscourtship.jpegt: E-book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Fiction
Series: Anna Kronberg Thriller, #1
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Anna Kronberg
Heroine: Garret O’Hare
Sensuality: NA
Date of Publication: July 16, 2014
Started On: December 04, 2018
Finished On: December 06, 2018

It was my hankering to read something different that had me taking a look at The Lion’s Courtship by Annelie Wendeberg. This is the first book in the Anna Kronberg Thriller series, and is written in the first person. This was an intriguing and eye opening look into what the rest of the series entails.

Anna Kronberg lives in the worst of the worst that Victorian London has to offer. Anna is a doctor, who is viewed by most as a “nurse”, (because why on Earth would a woman be a doctor?), treating those who would never have access to proper medical care if otherwise. She treats the prostitutes, the criminals, and the children who grow up in the miserable and abject poverty that is brought to life so vividly in this story. And then there is her secret identity where she moonlights as Dr. Anton Kronberg at Guy’s Hospital.

When Garret O’Hare comes seeking Anna’s services, thus begins a reluctant acquaintance, at least on the part of Anna. However, Garret continues to surprise her and slowly gets under her skin. And it is only Garret that is willing to help Anna in her quest to find a man who had slashed the face of a young prostitute, the prostitute having seemingly disappeared altogether.

So begins the search, where Garret warns Anna of the consequences that could come calling. There is no prettying up what the squalid conditions of where the story takes place is like. Ms. Wendeberg dishes it out as it is, and as it should be. The whole setting comes off as authentic, Anna and Garret realistic in a way that you can relate to and root for them. The menace that lingers owing to the killer is one that does not abate as the story proceeds, the ending being the most shocking of all. A killer who can outsmart everyone else, that is in reality who he is.

I read this right after I finished watching The Alienist series, which I absolutely loved. I felt as if Ms. Wendeberg’s writing carried the same vibe, and I felt just right at home with the story that unfolded.

I did take a look at the next book in the series and find that this is probably the only ending this story is going to get? Plus the series is veering in a totally different direction? I believe I might come back and sample some of the other stories in the series in due time.

Recommended for those who love historical mysteries. This one definitely and cleverly serves as the appetizer to the next installment.

Final Verdict: Ms. Wendeberg certainly has the prose, style, and wit to carry this off. Definitely gets one thinking, which I love in my books!

Favorite Quotes

Rotten food was squeezed in floorboard cracks — floorboards so dirty that one must think they’d never seen a brush and a dollop of soap in their entire life.
Twelve straw-covered pallets were stuffed into the limited space. He’d had to climb over sleeping bodies to reach his bed. He can still hear the tinkling of urine in chamber pots, the snoring and grunting, the bawling of an infant, the swearing, burping, and farting. This was not the shiny paradise his once boyish mind had dreamt up. This was the place where humans had reached their lowest point and had long lost all shame.

She unlocks the small room at the very end, steps in and locks it, fumbles for the matches, then lights two oils lamps and yanks off her dress.
She hates being scared and being fragile, being the weaker of the sexes. She hates not having equal access to education, employment, and basic rights. If screaming could make things better, she’d scream until her throat turned numb.
Instead, she sheds her dress and undergarments, and opens the wardrobe where she keeps her disguise. Only ten minutes later, she’s her professional and controlled self: Dr Anton Kronberg of Guy’s Hospital.

Both women know that once the unwanted child is gone, the cycle will start anew, and there is little to be done about it. For Anna, this is hard to accept. She kills miniature children, knowing she’ll never have one of her own. Every time she holds one in her hand and sees the bloody mess of tiny limbs sliced off the small body, she looks up from between the legs of her patient and sees a woman whom nature simply hasn’t considered. Not only are prostitutes at the bottom of society’s cesspit, evolution has no regard for them, either. Without the ability to switch off conception when copulation is used to avoid starvation, prostitutes are left at a social and biological dead end.

‘Most of the time, I don’t like people. They could all be apes; it wouldn’t make too much of a difference to me.’
Garret’s breath stalls. His mind refuses to provide a meaningful analysis of Anna’s statements. ‘I don’t believe you. You help people every day. You wouldn’t do it if you didn’t like them at all.’
Several moments pass without a reply. Her breathing has grown deeper and slower, and he believes she has fallen asleep.
But then she stirs a little. ‘Because when people are sick and weak, when they fear death, they reveal who they are. They wear no masks and I can see their souls.’
‘Do you like them then?’
She sighs again, and searches for his hand he had withdrawn a moment earlier. ‘All souls are beautiful. But you…’ She presses the back of his hand against her forehead. ‘…you have an exceptionally beautiful soul.’

Purchase Links: Amazon | Kobo | iTunes

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Review: Psychopath’s Prey by V.F. Mason

Format: E-bookpsychopathsprey
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Kierian McAvoy
Heroine: Ella Gadot
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: April 17, 2018
Started On: September 07, 2018
Finished On: September 09, 2018

Have you ever read a book featuring a serial killer and found yourself sympathizing with the character? Understanding where the serial killer was coming from? Why the character had turned out to be a monster? I have. Countless times. When an author does a great job of characterizing and delving deep into all the main protagonists of a book, and does it well, that happens.

But have you ever read about a serial killer and then fallen in love with him? I haven’t. At least not before V.F. Mason came under my reading radar. I was feeling restless with the lack of books that spoke to me. I would be forever grateful for @mad4rombks for directing me towards these books. I wouldn’t have thought that falling in love with such a character was even possible. Until I found myself deeply immersed in Psychopath’s Prey.

Ella Gadot’s ambition for a long time has been to become an FBI agent. The violence smeared past of Ella’s makes her crave for it. But at every turn, having being rejected, no one is more surprised than Ella when she is offered a position on the behavior analysis unit of the FBI. What makes Ella so good at identifying what makes a particular kind of killer tick perhaps lies in her past, and her association with the darker side of life that most of us are shielded and protected from.

Kierian McAvoy and Ella become part of each other’s professional lives when Ella joins the unit. Or so she thinks. But Ella has been chosen for a purpose. She has been drawn in by a highly sophisticated killer who has never hunted women before. But for some reason, Ella makes him itch to hunt her down, and make her his. He draws Ella in by the only thing that would reel her in. A case that would make her work to find him, and in the end become the hunted.

Told in first person from both Kierian and Ella’s point of view, and the psychopath’s younger version from the tender age of seven on wards, V. F. Mason carries the reader through a journey that bled me raw and I do not think I would ever be the same again. This books is not merely a story. It is an experience. It is a journey you have to take with a young boy who saw nothing but pain and torture inflicted upon him and his mother on a daily basis, until his mother ceased to exist. It is the story of a man who had blocked out parts of his past to deal with being who he is. A psychopath. A killer. Someone who never believed that love was for him.

There was so much about this book that I loved. Like I mentioned before, I picked this up to read at a point in time where my book pile had gotten stale. I’m sure that has happened to everyone once or twice. It happens to me more often than before, now that I have grown older and stories tire me out more often than not. When this happens, you just need something that would spice up your reading list and then move on from there.

Anyone who understands my reading habits and preferences know that I am not someone who likes saccharine sweet books. I’m a romance reader who is old school in many ways. My one vice is that I like darkness in my books. A lot of darkness. I love to find an unexpectedly dark hero in a book that makes mincemeat of my emotions. And I love an equally strong heroine (who doesn’t grate on one’s nerve to prove that she is an equal to the hero) in my books. And that is exactly what Psychopath’s Prey gave to me.

It has become a rarity to find well written books that feature the aforementioned. Mainly because every single thing out there has become a point of contention for someone who doesn’t identify with it. There are so many movements out there to make romance genre “better”. I believe like everything else, the romance genre too is evolving to suit the mass numbers of readers out there, who believe romance to be nothing but light and fluffy. Well, V.F. Mason is here to tell you that romance can be dark, extremely dark, and still make all your tingly parts go haywire from want.

Similarly, with this book, I am pretty certain that a lot of people will harp on factors like ‘how is this possible?’, ‘it made my skin crawl’ etc. The ending is not your typical, the hero conquered his nightmares and they lived happily ever after variety. There is a happily ever after that fits the characters and the story of course, otherwise I would have thrown the e-reader at the wall and stomped on it for effect. I digress. But the point here is that, this is definitely not for everyone. Some would find the concept of a serial killer and a criminal psychologist falling in love an abhorrence in itself. But for me, I found the concept a novelty, refreshing, and sometimes I believe we do identify with what the society doesn’t accept for valid and good reason.

I have always empathized with villains who were shaped out of nightmarish childhoods, that had nurtured a certain need in them. I am not saying that it justifies the pain they inflict on others, but it makes you understand why they are the way they are. Kierien is such a hero. I bled for him every single time his past came up, because it is difficult to detach yourself when you read about a child being subjected to such horrors. Similarly in Ella’s case, she has a childhood that is macabre in another aspect; the one night that had changed her life irrevocably and forever.

If I were to sound gushy, I could go on rambling about what made this book work for me. So I will limit myself to state a few. The way it invoked so much emotion from me, and took me from high to lows and then to highs again. I actually resented the time spent away from reading because in a long while, a book had captivated me thus. For this reason alone, I would recommend this story. Because it’s not everyday you fall in love. In love with a serial killer. Plus, have you seen the cover? *goes into a trance*

Recommended for those that love dark and edgy romances, the not your usual variety. This was definitely captivating in every single sense.

Final Verdict: Definitely not for the judgmental, nor the faint-hearted; exactly why I loved Psychopath’s Prey & Kierian, the very definition of an anti-hero if ever there was one.

Favorite Quotes

While he drags us to my room, I unbutton his shirt and slide it off his shoulders, and then I move to his belt buckle, desperately needing to feel him in my hands.
We do all this while kissing, and finally the back of my calves touch the bed as he locks his arm around me while whispering my name and leaning into my neck for his hungry assault. “I’ve been going crazy with need to fuck you since our last time.” His words send a shock directly to my clit as he rubs against me. I still feel him despite our clothed state. My whimper doesn’t go unnoticed as he drags me closer. “Missed me, Ella?” I nod eagerly. “Is this pussy wet for me? Ready for the one cock that can bring it satisfaction?”

Kierian,” I moan, and he surges deeper, completely owning me with his mouth. His tongue travels over my folds, laving them with the attention and hunger they’ve been denied for so long.
He cups my ass cheeks and laps at my core with his full mouth, making sure to play with my clit with his upper lip. I bite my fist, muffling a groan while my other leg bends on the bed, giving him wider access to work in.
“You. Are. Mine,” he growls against me, digging his fingers into my skin as a hint of pain touches me. “Don’t ever deny me again.”

“Kierian, don’t tease.”
He bites on my neck harshly as he growls. “No teasing?”
I shake my head, but reply anyway, “No.”
“You want hard fucking only, Ella?”
“Yes!” That’s all I want in this freaking moment. So can he get on with the program already, and—
With one swift motion, he surges inside me, tearing a scream from me that he immediately covers with his mouth. He thrusts deep, deep, then deeper into me, shaking the bed with his force. I wrap my legs around him as he entwines our fingers above my head.
He is slow, steady, and hard. He waits until each thrust shakes my entire system before giving me another one, and each time, the pleasure rises in me higher and higher, my skin flushing, heat spreading through me and reminding me this man is all male.
“Mine,” he says, pounding harder, and I arch my back, completely lost in everything he makes me feel.

Kierian is always so hungry for me, being able to go at it for hours and demand complete submission. In these moments, he is not a compatible boyfriend who understands me; he is a raging beast who wants to own his woman.
“Mine,” he growls right before placing my legs on his shoulders and grazing the walls of my pussy with the tip of his tongue, barely touching me, but it’s enough to send electricity through me and my moan fills the space.

He pushes his tongue deep, sweeping at my walls and tasting me as deep as he can.
He is hungry, domineering. I lock my legs around his neck, my pussy clenching, but it’s not enough.
Kierian needs to get on with the fucking program before I lose my mind!
My hips jerk, lifting to his seeking tongue, as I pull at his hair, shamelessly rubbing myself on his mouth, and he welcomes it.

She grabs my hands and pulls me on the bed, and as I get to it, she flips me on my back while looming over me, her eyes roaming all over my body.
Her fingers trail down my scars and her breath hitches, as if in pain. “They are old.” I feel the need to reassure her, and she smiles sadly.
“They aren’t if they still have the power to hurt you.” Her words stab me like a fucking knife in the heart that suddenly knows how to beat for another person, but she shakes her head. “This has no place for bad memories.” Ella captures my mouth with hers as we entwine in a wet and needy kiss that leaves us alone with raging desire between us spiking the flames.

With one final suck to her beautiful nipple, I push my arms under her knees and thrust into her so hard the headboard hits the wall.
She cries out, but it quickly turns into a moan as I pull back and push in again, digging my fingers into her hips as hard as possible so she’ll be marked by me.
I expect her to close her eyes and get lost in the moment as she always does, but instead, she brings my head closer. Our gazes clash for a moment and then she hugs me, giving me a hot kiss that flames my desire even more.

Purchase Links: Amazon

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