Category / Tortured Heroine

by mvbookreviewer

Review: A Rose at Midnight by Anne Stuart

Format: E-bookaroseatmidnight
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Avon
Hero: Nicholas Blackthorne
Heroine: Citizeness Ghislaine de Lorgny
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: February 28, 1993
Started On: January 18, 2014
Finished On: January 23, 2014

I picked up A Rose at Midnight by Anne Stuart in my attempt to make my way slowly back to earth, after riding the high of reading Heart of Obsidian by Nalini Singh. I tend to need some time to come to terms with the fact that I might not be able to come across a book that would give me such a high in the near future and most of the time is struck with the need to read a book from an author that would certainly entertain me if nothing else. And this historical set in the 1800’s did just that, in the end leaving me a bit contemplative too, which is something that tends to happen often after I finish reading an Anne Stuart romance.

Ghislaine de Lorgny’s mission in life for the past couple of years has been a simple one. She has been biding her time until she meets the man who would die at her hands, the man who turned his back on her and never looked back, the man who had broken her heart and let her be crushed in every single way left thereafter until the fire for revenge and need for vengeance had become what had kept Ghislaine going. Opportunity comes calling when the man himself comes to the home in which Ghislaine resides in, giving her the perfect chance to exact her revenge even if it means she’d have to leave the life that she’d made for herself in the past couple of years.

Nicholas Blackthorne is a man who possesses the blackest of reputations. With no scruples seemingly whatsoever, Nicholas lives his life as he pleases, the bleakness inside of his soul hidden by the depth of depravity that he shows to the rest of the world. When Ghislaine comes into his life once again, Nicholas does the unpredictable thing and carries her off with him, seemingly to teach her a lesson that she would never forget, all the while refusing to acknowledge just how much of his black soul is already possessed by the woman in question.

A Rose at Midnight might not be an easy read for some people, but then that is one reason why I love novels by Anne Stuart. There is a sensuality to her ruthless heroes that is indescribable, the way in which she can redeem even the most unlikely heroes one that always would keep me going back for more. Nicholas seemed like a hero who would never find his footing as someone who would redeem himself enough to win the affections of Ghislaine, but then Anne Stuart’s characters are hardly that straightforward and Nicholas was definitely no exception.

The life that Ghislaine had undergone during the uprising in France, the way she had lost her family and everything dear to her, not to mention how she had been defiled in the most vile manner while hatred had borne in her heart for the man who had been in the next room served to be reason enough for the rough and tough journey of the heart that Ghislaine takes towards love and peace of her soul. Acceptance of her feelings for the complex man that Nicholas is takes a lot of doing and I understood every single bit of turmoil, hatred, anger and deep sense of betrayal that she felt in the process. I would say that it would take a woman of immense courage to let go and embrace love, a love so fierce and powerful that even the darkness that had invaded her soul a long time back was no match for the sheer potency of it all.

I also loved the secondary romance tucked into this dark and gritty story which somehow seemed to lighten up the pages a bit. I loved Lady Ellen’s inquisitive, forward and at times clueless nature when it comes to the love of her life aka Honorable Sir Antony Wilton-Greening. Their courtship which takes place in their pursuit of Ghislaine and Nicholas seemed to make the darker emotions this novel seemed to generate easier to bear and I have to say I loved every single minute of their journey towards a beautiful and well deserved happily ever after.

Time and yet again, Anne Stuart astounds me with her creativity (even when I should know better by now), her characters and the way she unabashedly writes the best alpha heroes out there one that earns her the highest of ranks in my list of favorite authors. And every single time, with very few exceptions of course, I have always ended each book with the deepest sigh from within my soul, knowing that I couldn’t have asked for more!

Final Verdict: A Rose at Midnight is magnificent, the intricacy of this multi-layered tale is not to be missed!

Favorite Quotes

She could have withstood a brutal assault, his mouth grinding against her. She could have withstood a rough rape of her mouth, and she was fully prepared to disappear into that quiet place in her mind where no one could reach her.
But she was unprepared for the softness of his lips against hers. The damnable gentleness as he brushed his mouth against hers, feathering it lightly, so lightly that it was a caress. And she hadn’t been caressed in more than a decade.

“Just a kiss, love,” he said, putting his fingers under her chin and tilting her head up to meet his mouth. She held very still as his lips tasted hers, but he could feel the faint tremor that ran through her small, strong body, and he wondered idly what caused it. Hatred? Or desire?

Her body was stiff at first, and then slowly grew more pliant, her hips tilting up against his with the light encouragement of his hand at the small of her back, her perfect breasts through the thin layers of clothing pressing against his chest. He could hear the lazy buzz of bees in the background, the distant song of birds, and the wind rustled through the leaves overhead as he kissed her, until she was shaking, until he was shaking, until he wanted to push her down in the sweet-smelling grass and tear away her clothes and his, until he wanted to find comfort in the sweet danger of her body.

“It will be rape,” she said in a wild fury.
“No,” he said. “It won’t.”
She survived the fierce possession of his kiss. She survived his overpowering strength, as he pulled her to the bed, pushing her down and covering her flailing limbs with his strong body. She survived the touch of his hands on her breasts, the feel of his arousal against her stomach. But she couldn’t survive the sudden gentleness, the slow start of heat in her belly, the warmth in her breasts, the damnable yearning that blossomed in her heart.

She felt as if she were floating, lost in the feel of his lips on hers, the shocking intimacy of his tongue in her mouth, more intimate than anything she’d endured during her enforced couplings. She wanted to dissolve, to lose herself in the seductive wonder of his mouth possessing hers. She wanted it never to stop, to last forever in a billowing cloud of passion without end.

He’d told her she was beautiful, his precious child, his angel in a dark night. He’d told her she was his soul, his life and breath, and the heat of his desire.
And, God help him, he’d told her the worst thing of all. He’d told her that he loved her. And even now, he wasn’t quite sure if he’d lied.

“Don’t fight it, my angel,” he whispered, his voice a mockery. “I’m not going to finish with you until you come.”
She whimpered then, and hated herself for doing so. He covered her mouth with his, and like a fool she kissed him back, as his hair fell around them both, curtaining them in darkness. He reached down and caught her hips, pulling her up against him, and then his body went rigid in her arms, and she felt the flooding of a great warmth, one that for the first time was answered with her own warmth.

“You have two choices, Ghislaine. You must either kill me or love me. Make your decision.”
He watched her grip tighten on the knife, and he wondered whether this time she would do it.
He reached her, standing in front of her, his tom, bloodstained shirt barely covering his chest, and waited.
“Oh, my God,” she said in a broken voice. And she dropped the knife with a noisy clatter, and flung herself into his arms.

He caught her shoulders, pulling her up close against him, and this time he kissed her, hard and deep, a kiss she answered. Her dress ripped as he tore it off her; his breeches ripped as she tore them open. She touched him, felt the silken strength of him, and he groaned, deep in his throat, pushing against her hands.

He stared at her in mute frustration. “All right, I love you, damn it,” he snapped. “Does that satisfy you?”
She considered it. “It’s a start. But you’ll definitely need more practice. You haven’t learned the proper intonation. You need—” He silenced her, efficiently and swiftly, his mouth covering hers.
When he lifted his head they were both breathless. “I love you,” he said again, this time a little more softly.
She smiled up at him. “Much better,” she whispered.

Purchase Links: Amazon

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Heart of Obsidian by Nalini Singh

Format: E-bookheartofobsidian
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Paranormal/Futuristic Romance
Series: Psy-Changeling, #12
Publisher: Berkley
Hero: Kaleb Krychek
Heroine: Sahara Kyriakus
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: June 4, 2013
Started On: January 14, 2014
Finished On: January 18, 2014

With Heart of Obsidian, Nalini Singh has outdone every single book in the Psy-Changeling series, giving fans a whole new meaning to the term explosive, which renders this book the best addition to the series so far. One of the reasons that I think the story worked so well was the fact that Nalini decided to take a step back from the Changelings and focus on the intriguing world of Psy for a change. Added to it is the fact that Heart of Obsidian is the book that presents the most pivotal turning point in the series to date, thus it is no wonder that Heart of Obsidian practically turns the pages by itself with the sheer scale of entertainment it has to offer.

Kaleb Krychek, cardinal telekinetic is the man who had risen to power and attained his place in the Council at the young age of 27, the youngest to have secured a position as such. The sheer, raw and unadulterated power that he holds inside of him is one that kept me in awe from beginning till end, the scale of it one that I don’t think I would ever be able to completely wrap my head around. The plans he has for his race, a race that assumed Silence almost 100 years back to keep the madness at bay is one that only he is privy to. And all the while, Kaleb’s search for the woman who is the deepest flaw in his Silence had continued until finally, 7 years on, Sahara Kyriakus is found and returned to her rightful place beside him.

This spellbinding novel is the culmination of so many events that has continued to happen since the beginning of the series, the fact that Silence wasn’t what the Psy had assumed it would turn out to be made altogether more evident by a faction of the race who demands absolute Silence which would allow them ultimate control of the minds of every Psy. For them, it is absolute Silence or nothing else, even if it means the destruction of their whole race altogether.

Kaleb is an enigma, a man who makes your heart race, just because. Brought up as the protege of one the most evil of the Psy, no one knows for certain where Kaleb stands. The darkness that walks right along with him or rather inside of him is one that he had embraced a long time back, knowing that he’d been forged in the darkness, with his hands tainted in blood, his soul leeched dry of whatever emotions that would have made him even remotely hesitant in executing the plan he has in mind to take over the reins of a race that has been left floundering with their leaders in conflict with one another.

Kaleb’s most fascinating aspect turns out to be his “obsession” with Sahara, a term he would not have used to describe his relentless search for the woman for whom he would destroy everything and anyone who stands in his way and paint the world in blood red if required. Sahara when he finally finds her, is merely a shell of the 16 year old Sahara that was snatched away from his world, a woman who holds inside of her the sort of power that is enough make a man an Emperor, a power that in the wrong hands could be exploited for just that.

Kaleb’s plans for Sahara and that of the fate of the world takes an about turn when the Sahara he had known starts to return to him bit by bit, completely undoing his every intention and destroying every notion that he has held about himself when it comes to intimacies of the heart, body, mind and soul. With every searing kiss that is exchanged, Kaleb knows that its only a matter of time before Sahara realizes the darkness that swirls deep inside of him, ready to consume him and the rest of the world, if he were reach out and embrace the totality of it.

The things I loved about the Heart of Obsidian are many, and I am finding this review equally hard to write because I am afraid that I might not be able to do justice to the sheer pleasure reading this novel brought for me. I absolutely adored just how into each other both Kaleb and Sahara were; there were no pretenses to be had, no holding back and it worked beautifully for them with their entwined past making the connection between them that much more real. The heat and fire between Kaleb and Sahara was actually what I wanted for Hawke and Sienna, which unfortunately failed to materialize, the deep abiding connection between them something that I would carry in my heart always.

The telepathic dirty talk between Sahara and Kaleb was one that was enticing and arousing in equal doses, the scenes of passion between them hot enough to flatten down entire buildings with the raw power of it all. Beneath the icy cold exterior that is Kaleb lies the darkest of passions and deepest of desires, centered around just one woman who could bring him down to his very knees, the woman who would always be the game changer when it comes to him. Sahara’s adoration, love and deep seated protectiveness for all that is Kaleb was what made me fall in love with her, totally and irrevocably and I just might have to go ahead and say that I don’t think that I have ever fallen in love with a heroine that hard and fast. I definitely cannot wait to find out what Nalini is planning next for this incredible world that she has created, a world that is as enthralling as the stories that she spins around it.

Most absolutely recommended for everyone who loves romances, dark heroes, passions that run deep and obsessions that brings to light the most abiding of love.

Final Verdict: Stupendous in every single aspect, Heart of Obsidian is nothing short of a spectacular work of art!

Favorite Quotes

She couldn’t look away from him, his skin a sun gold that belied the cool lack of expression on his face. If he’d kept his distance, she might have resisted the temptation that had been riding her since the bedroom . . . but he crossed over to her, didn’t say a word when she ran her fingers over the tensile warmth of him, her nipples tight points against the thin fabric of her sleeveless lilac shirt.
His own hand was big, warm against her cheek as he cupped her jaw. “Don’t be afraid of me, Sahara.” Bending his head, he spoke with his lips against hers, the contact igniting a thousand tiny lightning strikes in her blood. “I’d line the streets with bodies before I’d ever hurt you.”

“I,” he murmured, “can never permit her freedom. She would find a way to harm you.”
Sahara’s eyes were haunted when they met his. “Am I so important to you?”
“Yes,” he said. “You’re everything.” The entire reason for his existence.

The caress felt raw, unpracticed, but no less addicting for it. The realization that he’d done this act with no other, that it was as new a pleasure to him as it was to her, was heroin in her bloodstream, a shocking punch of sensation, the world a study in passionate red. Stretching her body upward, her weight balanced on her toes, she kissed him with a wild desperation that lacked any sense of finesse.

Kaleb wasn’t cold now, his skin hot enough to burn, the arm he’d braced over her head trapping her in a prison she had no desire to escape. Thrusting her hands into his hair, she held him to her, sinking her teeth into his lower lip in a feral act of passion that should’ve shocked her.
It didn’t. Not in the madness.

A pause before he shifted to face her, one of his hands lightly cupping the side of her jaw, his eyes a black inferno. “I want more.”
Caught off guard at the realization that his arousal hadn’t been tempered by the interruption, Sahara’s lips parted in a gasp. Kaleb took the silent invitation, his mouth on hers as he pressed her back to the glass, his erection pushing into her abdomen in hard demand. Moaning, she sucked on his tongue as his hand came up to cover her breast . . . and the world turned to shards of glass, the windows exploding in a glittering shower of deadly snow.

Gripping her jaw in silent answer, he braced himself with his free arm beside her head, and then he branded her mouth with his own. You are mine. It was a statement telepathed along the private pathway that had formed years ago. Mine to touch. Mine to look at. Mine.

Sliding a hand from under her back, he gripped one breast with a firmness that felt like a brand and lowered his mouth to her flesh again. Her mind went red, her back arching as if to thrust her breast farther into his mouth. Kaleb, I need—
Tell me. Another scrape of teeth that scattered her neurons, her nails clawing the earth, crushed grass under her palms.
Touch me, please. I can’t—
Here? He cupped her between the thighs in a raw intimacy, pushing up with the heel of his hand.
And the world splintered.

“Teach me what feels good on your body.” She ached to kiss and pet him as he was doing her, burned to see those cardinal eyes drenched in the same storm that had sucked her under.
Watching you orgasm gives me extreme pleasure, was Kaleb’s unvarnished answer as his lips sought hers once more. Feeling you sticky and damp against my tongue, my fingers, your body soft under mine, your aroused nipples rubbing against my chest, that’s what feels good.

Sahara screamed, her body clenching around Kaleb’s in an orgasm that felt as if it would tear her to pieces . . . and that was when Kaleb’s control snapped. There was nothing practiced about the way he pounded deep into her over and over again, nothing restrained about the way he wrenched her head to the side to kiss and suck at her throat, nothing calculated about the way he bent her thigh upward then pushed it wide to facilitate a deeper taking.
It was primitive; it was rough; it was spectacular.

Kaleb came in violent silence, his breath harsh against her ear and his body rigid. The hot wet of his possession as his semen pulsed inside her made her erotically abused muscles spasm again, clenching tight around him. Jerking, he raised his head, eyes of obsidian holding her own as he drew back one final time, then thrust deep past her clenching muscles.
“Mine. You are mine.”
They were the last words Sahara heard before Kaleb’s kiss tore her apart, his body locked with her own as they fell.

“Make me yours, Kaleb.”
The throaty request, falling from lips plump and wet, snapped the ring of black ice. Slipping his hand under her thigh after repositioning his own, he spread her further and, tearing away her panties with a negligible use of his Tk, pushed inside her. She was tight. He was slow, deliberate. Moaning, Sahara dug her nails into his nape, her breasts flushed, her nipples lush beads he wanted to roll against his tongue.

“Kaleb!” Sahara convulsed around his erection, her entire body shaking with the strength of her orgasm.
Kaleb had intended to continue the slow pace that was an exercise in erotic control, but his brain short-circuited at the possessive clenching of Sahara’s intimate muscles. Pushing her onto her front, her face turned sideways on the pillow, he fisted one hand tightly in her hair and slammed into her in a brutally deep and fast rhythm, her body tight and slick and of the woman who was and had always been his. It felt like madness, creeping red on the horizon.

Punching her fist on the pillow, Sahara undulated her lower body toward him. Move!
The feminine demand was the only thing he needed to hear. Pounding into her, he saw her fingers clench tight on the sheets, her lips part on a breathless cry, and then she was coming around him once more, the pulses harder, more viciously possessive. Caught in the vise of her pleasure, his back arched as white lightning tore through his spine.
The bed slammed back to the ground.
Hard.
So did every other item in the room.

Sahara’s fingers tightened on his arm. “You’re mine.” Simple, quiet words that were a punch to the chest. “I will fight for you, today, tomorrow, and all the tomorrows to come.”

“You do not let that monster destroy the life we are going to have together. You are mine, not his. You have always been mine.”
The claiming was so absolute, it dared him to fight. Kaleb had no intention of doing so. Shuddering, he crushed her to him. “Yes,” he said, battling the rage because if he gave in to it, he would lose Sahara. “I’m yours. I will always be yours.”
Her lips on his jaw, on his cheek, her love fierce. “Remember that. Each action, every action you take, it has my name on it.”

“Kaleb.”
He flipped her onto her back on that breathless moan, making sure she never touched the wood. Her legs locked around his hips, her arms around his neck, her passion as wild as the rain that had turned hard, pounding against his back. Taking her mouth, tasting her with his tongue, he broke the kiss to thrust in and out of her in a driving rhythm, the water dripping off his lashes to hit her cheeks.
“Everything, Kaleb,” she gasped, her nails the sweetest pain on his shoulders, “give me everything.”

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

outstandingread

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Shadow Lover by Anne Stuart

Format: E-bookshadowloveras
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Bell Bridge Books
Hero: Alexander MacDowell
Heroine: Carolyn Smith
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: December 31, 2013
Started On: January 14, 2014
Finished On: January 14, 2014

It is always a downright delight to find a novel that you have missed out on from an absolute favorite author of yours. Shadow Lover by Anne Stuart was first published in the year of 1999 and somehow during my voracious hunt through Anne Stuart’s contemporary romantic suspense novels, I seem to have missed out on reading this one. It was when I saw this novel up for grabs on Netgalley that made me realize my grievous “error” in missing out on this. But then again, I can’t complain too much because discovering veritable treasures like this one is the reason why I love reading so much!

Shadow Lover delivers exactly the sort of novel that only Anne Stuart can. With enough twists and turns to the story to make your head spin and the way she brings the story to life with her quintessential bad boy heroes that readers like myself can never get enough of, Shadow Lover brings to life the very reason why Anne Stuart continues to amaze and wow me, practically with every single book I have read of hers to date.

Almost eighteen years to the day he had left never to be heard from since, Alexander MacDowell returns home, seemingly to ease the passage for his mother, Sally’s imminent death. It is only Carolyn Smith, the only MacDowell who isn’t essentially a MacDowell by birth that seems to harbor suspicions about the man claiming to be Alex. And of course Carolyn has good enough reason to be suspicious when she had witnessed Alex’s murder with her very own eyes that fateful night when everything had gone so awfully awry.

In a family laden with secrets, Caroline seems to be the only one who remains unaffected, the only one who seems to have a strong sense of morality and conscience. Caroline’s only wish is to be completely free of the MacDowell’s family once Sally dies, the woman who had unofficially adopted her into the family and loved her as much as she is capable of loving and showing affection towards another.

While Caroline’s sense of mistrust runs deep when it comes to the charming Alex who bears an uncanny resemblance to the Alex that she remembers and dreams of, she can’t help but be fascinated with all that he makes her feel, the feelings of violent passions that he rouses in her far more disturbing to her peace of mind than anything else. Caroline is determined that she would protect Sally at any cost, even if it means holding her tongue from lashing out with the truth which would certainly have dire consequences.

It is only a master like Anne Stuart that can pull off a novel of mystery as intriguing as this one, the seemingly innocent enough plot filled with so many unforeseeable twists and turns that the reader is taken along on a journey that certainly gets the brain cells revving. And then there is the heat factor involved when it comes to Anne Stuart. The way she brings her hero and heroine alive in essentially every single one of her novels, the mistrust and at times hatred born out of the volatile feelings that they harbor towards one another and later on the spillage of the fierce passion serves to be one of the best aspects to her stories.

I can definitely go on and on about the elements that worked for me in the story to make it one that has earned its rightful place in my “Favorites” shelf, but you’ve got to read it yourself to determine just how enthralling a tale that Anne Stuart can weave. There is just something about her heroes with their lean and strong bodies and of course slender hands of veritable strength that just gets my blood pumping. And I would give up just about anything to meet one of  these heroes in real life.

Final Verdict: Anne Stuart fills every single page with her exquisite mastery. Most highly and definitely recommended.

Favorite Quotes

Her hands had somehow ended up around his neck, her fingers entwined in his long hair. She closed her eyes—she didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to acknowledge the foolishness of what she was doing. She kissed him, clumsily, and he made a low, growling noise in the back of his throat, one of sheer animal arousal.
The sound made her wet.
He must have known. He slid his hands down and caught her hips, lifting her almost effortlessly, pulling her legs around his waist as he started toward the bed.

“You sure you want me to stop?”
She stared up at him, unable to say a word. She was hot, trembling, shaking with a need more powerful than any she’d ever known. He touched her lip, and his fingers had blood on them. “You bit your lip,” he said. “Bite mine.” And he covered her mouth with his.

“Slowly, Carolyn,” he whispered, pushing her back against the pillows. “No need to rush, we have all the time in the world.”
“No,” she said in a strangled voice. She opened her eyes, and she could see the firelight flickering over their bodies, dark, pagan, magical. “Don’t make me . . . beg.”
He slid his hands up her legs, pulling them apart. “Oh, angel, I don’t want you to beg,” he whispered. “I want to be the one to beg you.”

Her breath was coming in strangled gasps, and she could feel sweat and tears pour down her face. She gripped his shoulders so tightly her hands were numb, and everything was centered around his inexorable invasion, like nothing she had ever felt before.
It was too much, more than she could stand, and she tried to pull away, but he caught her hips with his hands, pinning her against the mattress. “Take me, Carolyn,” he whispered. “You know you can. Don’t be afraid of me. Take me.”

“I thought you weren’t going to touch me until I asked you?” she said in a furious whisper.
“Ask me.” He pushed the shirt from her shoulders, then reached for the waistband of her jeans.
“Go to hell,” she said, and kicked him in the shins.
He caught her face in his hands, holding it still, tilting her mouth up to his. “Ask me,” he said again, his mouth hovering inches from hers.
She stopped struggling. Her face was wet with tears, she looked lost and broken and so damned sweet.
“For what?” she whispered.
“For anything you want.”

“You ran away the last time,” he whispered against her mouth. “Are you going to run away again?”
“No.”
“Even though I’m a cheat and a liar and a con man and a thief?”
“Are you?”
“Do you care?”
“No,” she said in a fierce little voice. “I want you. I don’t care who you are, I don’t care what you are—none of it matters. I need you.”

“I’m afraid,” she said in a very quiet voice.
“I know you are. And I can’t figure out why. We’ve already done it once and you didn’t suffer any Victorian trauma. You know I won’t force you, you know I won’t hurt you. What’s the problem?”
She stood very still. “I’m afraid I’ll fall in love with you.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. And then a faint, reluctant smile curved his mouth. “Well, you can’t say I haven’t been doing everything I can to keep that from happening.”

“I was in love with the real Alex.”
He could only hope she couldn’t see his reaction. “You were thirteen when he left,” he said roughly. “Thirteen-year-old girls don’t know anything about love. And he was a selfish, spoiled brat who didn’t care who he hurt.”
“I loved him.”
He wanted her to stop saying that. He wanted her to say it again.

He wanted her whether she wanted him or not, but he wasn’t going to make a move.
He didn’t need to. She crossed the room, and before he realized what she was planning to do she sank to her knees in front of him and took him in her mouth.

“Turn over,” he said. “I want you that way.”
He half expected her to object. She didn’t. She did what he wanted, and her strangled cry of pleasure when he pushed back inside her almost finished him.
He wanted, needed to make it last. To take her every way he could think of, and more, so there would be no more secrets between them, no more lies.

She was even tighter from this angle, and he tried to think of something else, to slow himself down, but he couldn’t, all he could think and feel and hear was Carolyn, the soft, desperate little cries she was making, the rich scent of sex in the air, the silky smoothness of her back, the deep, clenching tightness of her.
He reached between her legs and touched her, and she exploded, her scream no longer muffled, a sobbing cry of complete surrender and savage, ultimate pleasure.
And he gave himself up to it, filling her with everything he had left, pouring into her.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N

outstandingread

by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: His Convict Wife by Lena Dowling

Format: E-bookhisconvictwife
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Escape Publishing
Hero: Samuel Biggs
Heroine: Colleen Mary Malone
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: December 1, 2013
Started On: January 13, 2014
Finished On: January 13, 2014

His Convict Wife by Lena Dowling is loosely tied to The Convict’s Bounty Bride published in March of 2013. His Convict Wife tells the story of quite the unusual couple, a recently widowed Samuel Biggs who makes his way to Australia to make a new life for himself and a convict bride.

It is during a moment of desperation that Colleen makes an attempt to impress upon Samuel to take her away from the hell she has to live in, not because she is looking out for herself but rather for the baby that she carries in her womb, whom she would not be able to keep if she were to live out the rest of her sentence in prison.

Samuel wants to stay true to the memory of his beloved wife but Colleen proves to be someone who is much more than the person she seems to be, something that makes it tough for Samuel to ignore her and designate her to the safe role of the companion that he wants her to be. Colleen sets out with one goal in her mind when she starts to seduce her husband with every trick she had learnt at the whore house, that is to secure a father’s love for her child. But what Colleen in the end gets is more than what she bargains for as feelings she had never encountered before makes themselves known, something that becomes harder to ignore as the days pass on.

Although I believe that the premise of the story and the characters were quite adequate for the story, I just felt that there were loose ends that needed to be tied up to make the story more wholesome than it ended up being. I liked Colleen’s character, her gumption and her attitude even under the most trying of circumstances. The life that she had been subjected to would have made a bitter woman out of someone with lesser character and I would say the woman she turned out to be earned her my admiration in spades.

Samuel was a bit tough for me to fall for. I felt that he was a bit too rigid at times, too judgmental of everyone and everything. The conflict that pushes Samuel and Colleen apart was one that was understandable at first but I felt that everyone involved didn’t truly get the closure they deserved. Perhaps it was the author’s way of keeping the story realistic because it is seldom in life that anyone gets the proper sense of closure from events that take place. However, I believe that perhaps an epilogue or a chapter that shows the couple somewhere down the line in the future would have appeased readers like myself, knowing that all that the couple had gone through had not been in vain.

One thing that I did like was the subtle heat that existed between Samuel and Colleen. The aspect of Colleen being way more experienced in carnal pleasures was a bit of a novelty when most novels that we come across tends to tell stories where the hero is the one who has a mountain of experience when it comes to women.

Though The Convict Wife could’ve been much better, I still managed to enjoy what the story had to offer. Recommended for those who love romance novels in an Australian setting.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Emerald Rain by Maggie Osborne

Format: Paperbackemeraldrain
Read with: NA
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press
Hero: March Addison
Heroine: Eulalie Pritchard
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: June 5, 1991
Started On: December 30, 2013
Finished On: January 5, 2014

Emerald Rain by Maggie Osborne is one of those romances that reaffirms my belief in the reason why romance would always be my preferred genre to read. I had almost but not quite, forgotten just how good a Maggie Osborne romance could be and why I had actually spent a small fortune in acquiring these out of print titles of hers for my collection. Even those novels that can be considered lackluster when it comes to Maggie Osborne are titles that still gives you a read to remember. This being otherwise I would say made a wonderful start to my reading for the year 2014!

24 year old Eulalie Pritchard (Lalie) makes her way to Brazil to follow her fiance’ to Hiberalta, a journey that would take her through the perilous Amazon jungle and the river that runs through it. Lalie lives by the strict rules of English society, her prim and properness a facet to her character that irritates March Addison from the first moment he lays eyes on her. The son of Earl of Addison, March has carved a name for himself in the Amazon as a renowned businessman in the booming rubber industry in Brazil and Lalie believes that nothing of the gentleman she had encountered 10 years back lives inside of him now.

Lalie expects the rough around the edges March to ferry her up to Hiberalta as quickly as possible and March in return expects fluff of her kind to depart from the country within a week. Both Lalie and March have surprises in store for the other as a trip that takes 3-5 months to complete bares everyone aboard down to their very basics. Living primitively does the one thing that wouldn’t be obvious while living in polite society, and that is to bring to light all the characteristics, good and the bad that drives a person. And that is exactly what happens when March takes Lalie on board despite all the misgivings he has when it comes to the most infuriating, beautiful and enticing woman he has ever come across all his life.

Lalie is determined if nothing else to live, to never be labeled as the woman who never lived a full life. Her infatuation with her fiance is seemingly what drives Lalie to seek the trip on her own but as the days fade into weeks, just like the rules of propriety that Lalie was determined to stick to at the beginning of the trip are stripped away one by one, feelings of the most wanton and unexpected variety seems to fill her heart, body and soul where March is concerned.

As swift as the currents in the Amazon that propels their vessel forward, so does the desire that explodes to surface where March and Lalie are concerned, a desire that is as primitive as the Indians that live amidst the jungle that surrounds the waters. Maggie Osborne always does a remarkable job in creating her heroes and March Addison is another exemplary specimen. One can almost imagine the sinewiness to his musculature, his sensual lips and the totally alpha male vibe that just seems to cling to him. His strength of character is one of the many things that made him an appealing hero and his honor one that made me fall irrevocably in love with him.

Lalie’s character makes me remember a friend of mine whose sheer determination carries her through a lot of hurdles in her life. Lalie who has had a privileged upbringing, is in short, a dreamer. Having seen her fiance through the eyes of infatuation, Lalie had missed out on the crucial aspects of his character to which she is brutally made aware of as the time of reckoning draws closer. While her heart, mind, body and soul yearns for the touch of the man who should be all sorts of wrong for her, Lalie is determined that she keep her word where her fiance is concerned. There were many a times that I literally burst out in laughter due to Lalie’s sometimes innocent and yet honest to God nature that she tries to hide behind all the rules of propriety. Lalie has the sort of hidden sensuality that would drive any red blooded man insane with wanting and that is the kind of wanting that leaves March reeling from the sheer force of it all.

The sexual tension wrought in the novel is top notch, one that made me sigh, squirm and want to prolong the read as much as possible. And one reason I love Osborne novels so much is that she is not afraid to deliver on the said tension when the time comes. And believe me, all that sexual tension Osborne puts the reader through was worth every nail biting moment of it and I was sighing all throughout every beautiful second of it.

Highly recommended!

Final Verdict: Sensuous and a whole lot of adventurous; Maggie Osborne delivers a tale as steamy as the Amazon itself. Not to be missed!

Favorite Quotes

A moaning sound came from her parted lips. Her breasts were thrust against his chest as her head fell backward and her eyes closed. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and her legs wrapped around his, pulling him more tightly against her until his erection throbbed between them, a rigid strength pressing against her soft, yielding body.

“Lalie,” he whispered. He slid one hand to the small of her back and held her pressed against him, his other hand moved slowly to cup her breast, teasing the hard nipple. Her breath was as rapid and choked as his when she met his eyes with a look filled with helpless urgency.

With tormenting slowness, exercising a patience and tenderness he had not known he possessed, he moved his month and tongue over her throat, teasing upward toward the swollen promise of her lips. His hand slid up her back go cup her small head.
“Oh my god March… March..”
Her words emerged part sob, part plea, and her body tightened around his.

Then she raised her face to his clenched jaw, his hard mouth, and finally defenseless, she surrendered to the dark eyes burning down into hers. Their stared locked and held. Her breast rose and trembled on a dry, scorching breath. A yearning sound almost like a sob caught in her throat.
And she wanted.

Her body moved against his; her hands rose and she buried her fingers in his thick hair as her mouth opened beneath his to receive his plundering tongue. Gasping, almost sobbing with the bliss and relief of finally knowing his kiss, Lalie clung to him, pulled him closer, closer, as if she could absorb him, as if by holding him tightly she could make this feverish moment last forever.

“On those nights when sleep won’t come, I’ll lie in my bed and remember the softness of your breast, the sweet curve of your waist. I’ll remember the lagoon, the sunshine on your eyelids. I’ll remember the taste of your skin and the scent of your hair… and I’ll wonder.”

“I’ll make love to other women, Lalie, but they won’t be you. I’ll feel that loss and wonder. All my life I will remember you and regret that I didn’t have you. All my life I will wonder at the feel and touch and scent of you. I will wonder if you would have cried my name. I will wonder if I would have given you pleasure. I will wonder and mourn my loss.”

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | AbeBooks

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Law Man by Kristen Ashley

Format: E-booklawman
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Dream Man, #3
Publisher: Forever
Hero: Mitchell James Lawson
Heroine: Mara Hanover
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: December 11, 2012
Started On: December 26, 2013
Finished On: December 30, 2013

Law Man by Kristen Ashley tells the story of Mara Hanover who has had an impressive crush on her very hot police detective neighbor for the past 4 years. Mara suffers from a lot of self esteem issues owing to the way she’d grown up and of course her scumbag of an ex-boyfriend. Mara thinks herself to be below par in looks and believes that she has nothing of interest to offer for a man like a Detective Mitch Lawson who practically makes her knees shake every time he smiles at her.

It is when Mara’s past comes calling that she starts to realize that Mitch and his  interest in her wouldn’t fade away just like that and most surprisingly he just might be staying around with her and helping her take care of her problems in a way that she’s never ever been looked after before. Mitch definitely has his work cut for him when he has to convince Mara to give them a chance, and to slay the dark demons of Mara’s past from which she seems unable to let go of. Told mostly from Mara’s point of view in first person, Law Man has the one thing going on for it that is trademark Kristen Ashley, and that is Mitch.

There were so many moments that Mitch made me sigh out involuntarily because he has that quality about him that just makes you want to sit and stare into open space and dream of a happily ever after. That is most definitely because Mitch is the man who makes Mara stand up and take notice, and he most definitely is the man whose stubbornness outsmarts that of Mara’s which was crucial in making her see that with Mitch there definitely existed more than just a possibility of something more.

Mara, I had a hard time warming up to. I found the constant retreating game that she played throughout up til more than halfway into the story tiresome after a while. But there were issues she had to deal with in order to become whole, and I guess one cannot blame her for believing in something that had been drummed into her since childhood. I also wouldn’t have minded the story being cut short by 1/4th or so of its content since it seemed to drag on way too much in certain places.

I wanted more moments of Mitch and Mara together, to be a part of the magical connection that seems to exist between them. In the end I definitely skipped pages towards the latter half of the book to reach the ending. The epilogue meanwhile was just wonderful and that certainly made up for a lot of things that didn’t work for me. Recommended for fans of slow moving romances and fans of the series and the author.

Final verdict: Mitch Lawson will definitely have you humming, in more ways than one!

Favorite Quotes

“His eyes got dark. I liked the way they got dark and liked it so much I lost focus. And since I was paying attention to his eyes getting dark, I missed his lips getting closer. At the last minute I pulled back, my head hit the door and his lips brushed mine.
He didn’t move his mouth when he murmured, “’Night, Mara.”
“Goodnight, Mitch,” I murmured back, my breath starting to come hard and my heart beating harder.
He smiled against my lips.
Then he let me go.

“If I’m your Mitch, you’re my Mara,” he whispered against my skin, his words making me shiver again because I liked that idea, a whole lot. Then I felt his tongue glide along my throat as his hand glided back up my side, and I shivered yet again. He moved slightly away and held my eyes as his hands went to my wrists at his chest. He moved them around him and down, not releasing them, but still managing to pull his shirt out of his jeans and shove my hands up under so they encountered the hot, sleek skin and hard muscle of his back. He felt so unbelievably good I involuntarily made a noise in the back of my throat. His thumb swept over my nipple, and I liked that a whole lot more, so my back arched hard, and a long, deep moan glided up my throat and into his mouth. That was when leisurely and gentle got lost. As my moan slid into his mouth, Mitch slanted his head and deepened the kiss. It was harder, demanding and, God, so, so good.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | iTunes

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Tangle Of Need by Nalini Singh

Format: E-bookTangleOfNeed
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Series: Psy-Changeling, #11
Publisher: Berkley
Hero: Riaz Delgado
Heroine: Adria Morgan
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: May 29, 2012
Started On: December 16, 2013
Finished On: December 22, 2013

Tangle of Need by Nalini Singh is the 11th book in the Psy-Changeling series, the book that follows the story of the much awaited coming together of Hawke and Sienna. By the 10th book in the series which happens to be Hawke and Sienna’s story, a lot has happened and the stories move towards the ultimate demise of the Silence that the Psy species had assumed a long time back rendering them emotionless, cold and calculative. A movement known as Pure Psy seems to have stemmed from within the Psy race, hellbent on achieving state of ultimate and pure silence that would “protect” them from all sorts of emotions that according to them happens to be the demise of their race. And all the while, the politics that governs the Psy race seems to be splintering into fragments, lending the series the edge it deserves.

Tangle of Need is the story of Riaz Delgado, a lieutenant of the SnowDancer wolf pack and Adria Morgan, one of the senior soldiers of the pack. Riaz is a lone wolf, who has come back home to lick his wounds and bask in the love and togetherness of the pack to piece together the jagged pieces of his broken heart and soul. Adria herself is broken from a relationship that had practically splintered pieces of her heart, soul and self esteem, something she battles with continuously ever since having walked out from a life that had stopped working for her a long time ago.

The passion that ignites between Riaz and Adria is smoldering hot, one filled with resentment and anger on Riaz’s part and apprehension on Adria’s end. The fact that Adria proved to be strong enough to walk away from Riaz knowing she deserved better made me respect her a helluva lot, not that I didn’t understand where Riaz was coming from. The visceral hurt that seemed to be eating Riaz alive made me want to reach out to him and pet him until the pain his wolf was suffering was laid to rest, and I fell in love with Adria for being woman enough to accept and love Riaz as he is.

My contention with the story stems from the fact that I believe juggling so many aspects of the story made it lose focus on the main protagonists of the novel. There was Riaz and Adria and then there was Hawke and Sienna. Hawke and Sienna get as much time in the story as Riaz and Adria, probably to make up for the lack in their own story. I had a huge problem with how Hawke and Sienna’s story panned out, my main problem again being the fact that Hawke and Sienna as a couple didn’t get much time in the story due to everything else that was taking place. Don’t get me wrong, these books are quite entertaining and I still wouldn’t pass reading them up for anything, but I think when the focus is lost from the main couple in the story, therein lies a problem.

The way things ended with Adria and Riaz made me wonder for a second or two on whether Adria had been shortchanged by the man she adores and loves with her heart, body and soul. And though I felt that Riaz does return her love and does a good job of convincing her of just that, I still felt a teensy bit disappointed by how things ended for them. But deep in my heart I know and believe that their love is one that will survive because they are both equally strong and determined people who would fight to death for each other.

Tangle of Need ends on a sort of a cliff hanger ending in the sense that it leaves one practically on tenterhooks wanting to know how the next chapter would pan out. As one of the reviewers on Goodreads pointed out, the background storyline was focused on preparing the reader for the next book, Heart of Obsidian which I hear is filled with explosive and ground shaking moments. Can’t wait to begin reading!

Recommended for fans of the series. Read the series in order. Otherwise you’ll miss out on the great stuff that binds the stories together.

Favorite Quotes

Growling deep in his chest, he pulled her head back to take her mouth again. He wasn’t the least bit gentle, but she didn’t want gentle, her claws digging into his shoulders as her body moved with raw impatience against him. Taking his hand off her breast, he tore the button off her jeans, tugged down the zipper.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered, her voice stripped bare.
Riaz’s answer sounded torn out of him. “I can’t stop myself.” He shifted her closer, the move so unexpected, she didn’t resist—and found herself plastered to the hard strength of him. His arousal pushed into her abdomen, the hot male scent of him seeping into her veins until she could taste the dark forests and biting citrus of him against her tongue.

“Oh God!” Arching into the firm, confident touch, she tore at his T-shirt until it was in pieces around them, his big, muscled body rising over her own, his mouth busy on her lips, her jaw, her neck.
His skin was a shade of burnished brown, warm and beautiful, her pleasure at touching him—at last—almost painful.

A single hard thrust and he was seated deep inside her, the thickness of him a pulsing brand.
She froze for a minute, her body stunned at the almost violent possession. Long unused muscles ached, but below all that was need. Such naked, raw need.

Even as she came with a scream, he pounded into her with such wild fury, the feel of him reverberated through her very bones. A brutal word in a masculine voice so harsh, it was almost unrecognizable. Her internal muscles spasming in erotic response. His hand clenching on her breast. The primal heat of him spilling into her.

He broke the kiss, gasped in a jagged breath. Two long, hard thrusts and he felt his spine lock. Gritting his teeth, he tilted her so that his pubic bone would press against her clitoris, and then he thrust again.
Tiny muscles spasming anew around his cock, a molten fist.
His mind went black.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Private Arrangements by Sherry Thomas

Format: E-bookprivatearrangements
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Bantam
Hero: Camden Saybrook
Heroine: Philippa Gilberte Rowland
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: March 25, 2008
Started On: November 29, 2013
Finished On: November 30, 2013

When I finished reading the latest novel by Sherry Thomas which happens to be The Luckiest Lady in London, the question that was utmost on my mind was whether Sherry Thomas would write the story of the Tremaines as I mentioned in my review. My vague hunch that it had already been written was confirmed when Sherry replied to me as such and that’s of course the moment I rushed to purchase a copy for myself and indulge in the heavenly romance that Sherry Thomas creates so deliciously that it is impossible to not lose yourself in the midst of it all.

To the society, Lord and Lady Teramine seems to have the perfect marriage. Perfect because they have led separate lives starting from the first day of their marriage ten years back. The status quo changes when Phillipa (Gigi) requests for a divorce which brings Camden back to London with his own proposal that is treacherous grounds to tread on for both of them.

Sherry Thomas does a remarkable job of telling the story with the past and present entwined, shedding light on how and why things had gone so wrong between two people whose attraction to each other had been immediate and a scorching one at that. The young Gigi had been a cynical woman for her age, someone hardened by the life choices that had been drilled to her from the beginning by her mother Victoria. The loneliness that she hides deep inside of her is one that no one had ever seemed to see or understand until Camden had walked into her life, a seemingly unattainable Camden because Camden is a man of his word who is loyal to the core.

The mistake that Gigi makes in her desire to have the man she falls in love with, at any cost proves to be the reason her marriage turns out to be such a trial for both of them. The feelings of respect, desire and love that had seemed to blossom between them dies a sudden death, especially on Camden’s end when he learns of the treachery on his wife’s part and he makes her pay for it throughout the years of separation that involves affairs on both ends. But as the story delves deeper into the lives that Camden and Gigi had led separately for so long makes one wonder, who was punishing whom exactly in the light of things that are revealed.

Private Arrangements is a story that made me cry. Like most books Sherry Thomas pens, this one too had the ability to reach deep into my heart and soul and wrench emotions from it that most books aren’t halfway capable of wringing from me. And that is one reason why I loved this book which might not be well received by most romance readers due to the elements of adultery included in the Tremaines’ story.  I believe that it takes immense talent on an author’s part to pull off characters of the sort who makes god honest mistakes like both Gigi and Camden makes in this story and come out winning the heart of readers like myself who understands and needs authors to push the expected boundaries of norm every now and then to give us a spellbinding tale of love and passion like this one. Kudos Ms. Thomas, for you continue to amaze me and I hope that never ever ceases to happen.

Recommended for those who are not turned off by aspects of cheating on both the hero and heroine’s part. Trust me when I say this; Sherry Thomas knows what she’s doing. Hop along for the ride. If you are like myself and wants stories that reaches deep into your soul, Sherry Thomas offers just that with every story she writes.

Final Verdict: Provokingly beautiful, the Tremaines reach into your very heart and makes you bleed for them. Definitely Recommended.

Favorite Quotes

He smiled at her. And it hit her like a mallet to the temple, the realization that she was in love with him. Stupidly, dreadfully in love with him.
Overnight, she’d become a fool.

He retorted by divesting her of her drawers and trapping her naked body—naked but for white satin evening gloves and white silk stockings—between his body and the edge of the desk.
His fingertips skimmed over her bare bottom and headed slowly yet inexorably for the junction of her thighs. She closed her eyes and bit her lip but refused to clamp her legs together despite her nervousness.
“Are you always this wet?” he whispered. “Or is it just for me?”

He sank his teeth into her shoulder. Nothing painful, just a strong bite to punctuate the hot, smooth glide of his body into hers. She could not silence a small moan.
Despite her desperate attempt to recite the alphabet backward—she reached only as far as V before she could no longer think—her body drowned in sensations. She was full, so full, and deliciously pummelled.

He drowned himself in the velvety feel of her, marveling at the way her skin slid over her clavicles with her every breath, kissing a trail along the top of her shoulder, reluctant to leave each square inch of her glorious skin, impatient to savor all of her.
She placed her hands against his upper arms, but she didn’t push. She only emitted a sweet, despairing sound as he kissed the base of her throat. The gloom in his heart lifted a bit, though he knew it was madness to think this was anything but madness.

He tormented her with long, slow strokes, teasing her nipples as he drove into her at a leisurely pace. He made her beg for each delicious thrust. He made her thrash and gyrate and wail and whimper. And only when she was wholly vanquished, desperate, convinced that she would exist forever in this state of trembling, feverish arousal, only then did he give in and pummel her to her incoherent, wild, joyous, and vocal satisfaction.

She turned onto her back and slid a knuckle across her lower lip. “Won’t you come to bed and make me pregnant?”
He was on that bed and inside her in a fraction of a second. She was all hellfire and heavenly suppleness, clutching at him, her legs wrapped tight about him, her unabashed gasps and moans driving him mad with desire.
He shook, shuddered, and convulsed, his vaunted control in pieces as he came endlessly, well on his way to making her pregnant.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: The Way Home by Cindy Gerard

Format: E-bookthewayhome
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: One-Eyed Jacks, #2
Publisher: Gallery Books
Hero: Tyler Brown, Jeffery Robert Albert
Heroine: Jess Albert, Rabia
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: October 29, 2013
Started On: October 28, 2013
Finished On: November 6, 2013

If only he knew where home was.

The Way Home by Cindy Gerard is my very first read by the author. Book 2 in the One-Eyed Jacks series, book 1 of which I didn’t know that even existed until I delved into the story; The Way Home can be read as a standalone though there were bits in the story that makes you feel a teensy bit like you should have read the first book before venturing down the road of The Way Home.

The Way Home is a story that takes place in one of the rural villages of Afghanistan where a woman named Rabia tends to a wounded American soldier, harboring him in the secluded safety of her own home which puts her and her father in grave danger. Simultaneously, the story continues in Northern Minnesota where a woman who has lost her husband while fighting a war that had made little sense to her to begin with, takes those first tentative steps towards moving on with her life, falling in love all anew and embracing the joys of life.

For Rabia, taking care of one of the “enemy”, though had started out as a sense of obligation, changes with the depth of emotion that unfurls deep inside of her for a man whose sheer bravery makes her admire him in ways she had never admired any other. A man with no memory of who he was or what he had been through, even though the countless scars on his body and the ravaged state in which he is in speaks volumes about the kind of torture that he had undergone.

For Jess, finding the man who had made an impression on her during one chance encounter standing on her very doorstep makes her cautious and wary and yet exhilarated with a sense of excitement that has been missing from her life for far too long. Ty awakens in Jess the woman she has lost a long time back, rekindles the spark that had been blown out by too many disappointments that life had turned out to be. And in Ty, Jess meets a man whose sheer determination to win her over is a match for her stubbornness and the walls that she tries to keep between them tumbles down under that relentlessness of his. And then, with the happily ever after just within arms reach, trouble comes calling.

For Jeff, returning home means facing a life that he no longer remembers being a part of, embracing a family that he no longer remembers. The only person that he wants by his side cannot be a  part of his life and that breaks his heart more than anything else. The heartache and pain that seeps through the last couple of pages in this story would make even the strongest of persons weep. The longing to be elsewhere but where each of the 4 protagonists find themselves in is almost tangible and that is what makes The Way Home such a darn good read!

I absolutely loved the bits of the story that took place in Afghanistan, the reined in longing that blinds both Rabia and Jeff. The constant danger that surrounds them is one that cannot be denied, and even then, under the canopy of stars, in the deepest and darkest hours of the night, Rabia and Jeff come together, defying convention, the accepted norms and cultural differences not to mention the religious beliefs that Rabia holds close to her heart. All of that is no match for the love that grows and strengthens inside of both of them and that was in essence what kept me glued to the pages of this story.

Jess and Ty’s story were equally appealing in the sense that I loved how easy it was to fall in love with Ty. He doesn’t make it difficult, not at all. There are no false pretenses to be had, no backing down from what he feels for Jess; it is all too evident from all that he does for Jess and more. It takes an indefinable kind of strength for a man to walk away from the woman who holds his heart because he wants to do right by her and that ladies, makes it near impossible for you to not fall in love with Ty!

Recommended for fans of Cindy Gerard, fans of romances with military aspects to it and fans of the series. And of course those who love tearjerkers. This one’s definitely for you!

Final Verdict: Cindy Gerard brings forth a tale of immense pain, heartbreak and joy – not to be missed!

Favorite Quotes

And then she moved. Taking him in. Taking him deep, until his hips rose to meet hers, and his hands covered her breasts, finessing her nipples into aching, hard peaks, and she became as caught up as he was.
“Jess.” Her name eased out on a whisper, a curse, and finally a plea as he gripped her hips and slammed her down over him one final time, coming on a low, throaty groan and tipping her over the edge with him.

Purchase Links: Amazon | BookDepository | B&N

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Meant to be Married by Ruth Wind

Format: E-bookmeanttobemarried
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Men of the Land
Publisher: Harlequin Treasury
Hero: Elias de Jesus Salimento Santiago
Heroine: Sarah Greenwood
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: July 15, 2011
Started On: October 18, 2013
Finished On: October 18, 2013

‘Absence is to love what air is to fire. If it is small, it soon goes out. If it is great, it burns stronger.’

Ruth Wind is an author who has an amazing way with words. It is evident in the style of writing that she uses to bring her stories alive with the different nuances and colors that makes her books the vibrantly haunting reads that they are.

Meant to be Married is the story of the love affair between Elias Santiago and Sarah Greenwood, a love that had blossomed from friendship between two people whose families have been warring for decades. Their love had been an all consuming one that had left them with no room but to give it their all. But then Sarah’s father wouldn’t have his only child marrying one of the enemy and that is how these two find themselves torn apart from each other until 12 years later Sarah returns home which once again stirs up things between them.

Elias is a proud man, his pride evident in the way he holds his head high, has made a name for himself and proved himself a successful man capable of a lot more than people would have given him credit for. And when Sarah strolls back into town, the well ordered life that Elias had been living for a long while now comes crashing down at his feet, awakening all those emotions that had made him the adolescent who had been drunk on the love that had pretty much devoured them both.

Elias might want to enact his revenge on the man who had almost ruined his life 12 years back by using Sarah as the tool to achieve that, but that is not exactly how things turn out when both Sarah and Elias realize that for both of them, the other had been what had in actuality made their lives complete. But for them to have even the slightest chance at happiness, Sarah would have to stop running from her past and Elias would have to let go of his pride in order to go through that final stage of acceptance and love that would lead them through the rest of their lives.

While I loved Elias as a hero, I found that even towards the end he was a bit too stiff and unrelenting for me to really believe that Sarah and the love he has for her had won over the fire of hatred that has burned through him for far too long. Sarah had a way of running from everything that made things overwhelming for her and not without reason too, but at least she tried to do what no one else has had the courage to do; to heal the rift between the two families by finding out the actual truth about what had happened a long, long time ago.

All in all, I wouldn’t say that this is a bad read but rather a story that failed have that wow factor because I couldn’t really believe that in the end Elias would accept the truth and move on based on the history of the enmity between the families. Perhaps an epilogue would have done wonders to convince readers like myself who remains a wee bit skeptical even after the happily ever after.

Recommended for fans of Harlequin romances and fans of Ruth Wind.

Final Verdict: Ruth Wind is an author who takes you deep into the heart of any book she writes.

Favorite Quotes

It was Eli who stood there, his hair dripping, his face wet. The white cotton shirt stuck to his chest and arms, transparent against his dark skin, and his eyes burned as he stared at her.
A bolt of pure, undiluted hunger filled her, rushing through every cell, making her body ache. She might even have made a little sound, part fear, part need.
Without a word, he came in, put his cold hands on her face and kissed her.

“His clothes were wet, but they warmed as he pressed into her, warmed with the heat of his flesh and the heat of her own, and Sarah arched into him, put her arms around him, pulled him closer overwhelmed at her need to absorb the taste of Elias, remembered and not remembered, darker than it had been, seasoned with years and lost dreams and a thousand moments of yearning.

She held him fiercely as he met his release, and clasped his head between her hands and whispered his name, over and over.
Elias. Elias. Elias.
And then she was set free, her soul tangling with his, as she soared into the completeness that she had found only with him. She held him as tightly as she could, her arms and her legs wrapping him close, wanting to somehow make him part of her, so he could never be torn from her again.

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