Category / Widowed Hero

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Hyacinth by S.M. LaViolette

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Oasis
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
POV: Third Person, Dual
Series: The Bellamy Sisters, #2
Publisher: Crooked Sixpence Press
Hero: Sylvester Derrick
Heroine: Hyacinth Mary Bellamy
Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥
Published On: February 28, 2023
Started On: October 22, 2023
Finished On: October 25, 2023

“Your mouth has been tormenting me and giving me… ideas.”
Hy wanted to beg him to describe those ideas, but she couldn’t make herself speak.
“I want to do unspeakable things to you… Hy.”

In Hyacinth, S.M. LaViolette crafts a deeply engaging tale set against the opulent and yet at times suffocating backdrop of London’s high society. The novel revolves around 36 year old Sylvester Derrick, the eighth Duke of Chatham, a man whose rugged exterior and cynical demeanor mask the scars of a tumultuous past. Haunted by the loss of his wife Mariah a decade prior, Sylvester is a complex hero—embittered by life’s harsh realities and yet unexpectedly stirred by the unusual 22 year old Hyacinth Mary Bellamy.

Hyacinth, or Hy, is anything but ordinary. As the second daughter of the Earl of Addiscombe, her striking orange hair and spectacles sets her apart from her conventionally beautiful siblings. But it is her bold choice to cross-dress as “Hiram” for nightly escapades that truly makes her character stand out, first out of a need for independence and later to alleviate her family’s financial burdens.

The novel deftly explores the stark contrast between Sylvester’s aristocratic world and the darker, illicit corners of the city that Hy and Sylvester converge. Their interactions are fraught with a simmering tension, as Sylvester, oblivious to Hy’s true identity, is drawn to her intelligence and charm, unknowingly flirting with the very essence of what he has long denied: love and vulnerability.

Ms. LaViolette masterfully intertwines themes of loss and regret, allowing Sylvester’s emotional scars to surface as he grapples with his burgeoning feelings for Hy. Hy is a wonderfully crafted neuro-divergent heroine, whose mind works distinctively differently from her peers. The scars that she carries, especially due to her mother who had found her tiresome in the extreme is one that makes your heart break for the younger version of Hy. It is also this very essence of her character which allows her to compete with men at high stake games of gambling at which she excels.

The gradual build-up of romantic tension between Hy and Sylvester evolves beyond mere physical attraction, culminating in a profound connection that highlights the strength of two seemingly disparate souls coming together. Their conversations reveal insecurities and desires, rendering their relationship not just a romantic entanglement, but a journey of self-discovery for both. It also leads Sylvester to gradually reevaluate his life, bringing him to conclusions about his past actions that does not sit very well with him and makes him understand how they could have hurt the very people who are important to him.

I loved both Sylvester and Hy. Sylvester because he was unabashedly male in a way that was breathtaking. Bored with his lot in life as it happens to most amongst the peerage with their excesses, Sylvester finally finds the solace and excitement that he seeks in Hy. It is only someone like Hy, who can stir his heart, body, and mind that would do for Sylvester and that is exactly what happens.

As mentioned earlier, Hy is an unusual heroine in many aspects. Her sense of curiosity and her lack of self-consciousness are perhaps the most alluring. It is most often our self-consciousness regarding what society demands and expects from us, that makes women hesitate most often when seeking our rightful place in society. While Hy knows her own mind and is fully cognizant of what she wants, a long-term relationship and marriage, especially to a Duke is not something she believes she is suited for. But of course, Sylvester is more than well suited and able to change her mind, with persuasive reasoning that proves to be Hy’s undoing.

Ms. LaViolette is an amazing writer and every single book she has penned to-date serves as a testament to that fact. The writing in this book too, is lush and evocative, painting vivid scenes that lives rent free in my head. One other factor when it comes to Ms. LaViolette’s writing is how rich her vocabulary is, and I always end up noting down a ton of words which I look up and learn from. This story is special for one other reason; the fact that Ms. LaViolette herself is touch averse as is Hy, and I believe her own experiences too have helped shape this book into what it is.

Hyacinth is a novel that ends up being more than just a romance; it is a profound exploration of identity, duty, and the transformative power of love. Sylvester and Hy are two halves of one soul, each challenging and complementing the other in ways that resonates deeply with the reader. Ms. LaViolette’s skillful storytelling and rich characterization makes this novel standout, making this a great second installment to The Bellamy Sisters series.

Recommended for fans of historical romances and for those who enjoy emotional depth and nuanced character dynamics in their romances.

Final Verdict: Hyacinth is a story that offers a refreshing perspective on the complexities of the human heart and mind, with characters that are deeply flawed and all too real!

Favorite Quotes

Ever so gently she caressed the thick fan of lashes that rested against his cheeks before lightly grazing the bony hardness of his nose, the velvety softness of his eyebrow, and the pulsing blue veins beneath the thin skin of his temples, not stopping until her fingers carded the fine, soft hairs near his ears. She was interested to discover that the gray hairs were slightly rougher than the glossy brown ones.
Hy saved the scar until last, careful not to touch the baby-soft skin too roughly.
She tried to imagine what he must have looked like before the injury but found that she could not picture him without the scar. It seemed so much a part of who he was. Had it changed him as much inside as it had externally?
How could you ever ask a person such an intimate question?

“My God you feel good.” His eyes closed as he took a moment to allow her to adjust, the pulse at the base of his throat throbbing so hard she couldn’t resist tonguing it.
He groaned as she licked him again and again. Hy lowered her mouth over the thin skin and sucked.
He gave a low chuckle. “Are you going to leave your mark on me?”
She nodded, using her teeth to graze the skin. When she pulled away, she smiled at the purpled, swollen skin.
“Proud of yourself?”
“Yes.”

He hissed, his jaws clenching and nostrils flaring as his eyes lowered to her lips. “I’ve dreamed about your mouth,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire.
Hy lowered her head until she could reach the slit in his crown with her tongue.
His body shook as she probed the tiny opening with the pointed tip of her tongue, teasing him until several vulgar, desperate words slipped from his lips.
Not until he whispered, “Please,” one more time did she take the fat head in her mouth and commence to wreck him.

Sylvester flung open the door to the connecting room and then grabbed Hy, who was in the process of shrugging out of her coat, by the upper arms and pinned her against the wall.
He claimed her mouth like a starving man falling on a banquet, more than a little pleased when she responded with equal hunger. She shoved her fingers into his hair, knocking off his hat and tightened her hands into fists.
“Mmmm,” he groaned, relishing the oddly pleasurable pain as she flexed her fingers, tugging hard enough to pull out more than a few hairs. “I thought the evening would never end,” he said when he came up for air.
“I noticed your playing was off tonight, Your Grace. Were you distracted by something?”
He nipped her lower lip. “You find that amusing, do you?”
She gave a throaty chuckle as Sylvester bit her chin.

Sylvester studied her from beneath lowered lashes, a sudden ball of anxiety pulsing in his belly.
She was clever, resourceful, loyal, sensual, adventurous—and more.
She was perfect for him—not just the perfect lover or companion, but the perfect person to share the rest of his life.
Perfect except for one, single, insurmountable obstacle: she was a stablemaster’s niece.

Purchase Links: Amazon

by mvbookreviewer

Review: My Darling Neighbor by Swati MH

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Oasis
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
POV: First Person, Dual
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Penn Maddux Cooke
Heroine: Sita Stewart
Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥
Published On: May 26, 2022
Started On: October 07, 2023
Finished On: October 14, 2023

I hadn’t known she’d become my lifeline that night, my buoy in a cold and lonely ocean. But finding her here now, knowing that she stayed despite everything I put her through today, I know she’s so much more. She’s my refuge and my salvation.

Swati MH’s My Darling Neighbor delivers an intense blend of passion, emotional depth, and personal growth that hooks readers from the first page. The story revolves around Penn Maddux Cooke, a grumpy yet compelling hero, and Sita Stewart, a strong and determined heroine who knows what she wants.

Penn, at 37, carries the weight of a painful past. Losing his wife six years prior to the commencement of the story leaves its mark on him, so does the difficult marriage he had with her towards the end. This shapes Penn into someone who is guarded and reluctant to emotionally make himself vulnerable again. Yet, when 27 year old lawyer Sita ignites that undeniable spark in him, as much as he would like to, he knows that it is a losing war in which he fights.

Sita who has crushed on her neighbor for a long while, finds herself put off by his standoffish manner. However, a chance encounter puts them at crosshairs with each other, upon which Penn is finally forced to acknowledge that he has not been immune to Sita in any sense. But rather, it is Penn’s defense mechanism at work, trying to avoid especially women like Sita who reminds him of what he lost.

Sita’s character is driven by her own insecurities that stems from being an adoptee. The loss of her father has left its mark on her, and being responsible for her ailing mother stretches her thin, while handling the demands of her career. While Sita tries to tell herself that men like Penn would not want someone like her, the escalating sexual tension between the two, which Ms. Swati masterfully creates, is another reason this book stands out.

When the culmination of the build-up eventually takes place and Sita ends up pregnant, that is what sets in motion the events that brings to forth Penn’s history and his vulnerabilities. Penn’s gruff exterior that hides a sentimental side, his struggle with grief and guilt over his deceased wife all adds to the intrigue that is all Penn.

Sita’s strength shines through in many aspects, showcasing her maturity and resilience as a character. Despite the 10-year age difference between her and Penn, Sita is a woman who knows her mind and accepts herself on her terms, able to reconcile her wants and needs with handling a man like Penn with sensitivity required of her. Dealing with the gradual loss of her mother also makes her emotionally stronger perhaps, and more adapt to changing circumstances, which at times is required of her when dealing with Penn and his difficult past.

Once again, it is Ms. Swati’s ability to create a sexual dynamic that is intense, with scenes that are both explicit and emotionally charged that makes this story worth delving into. Penn’s possessiveness and dominance contrasts with his vulnerability, creating a multifaceted character that I found captivating.

While My Darling Neighbor delivers on many fronts, the angst that I expected from an enemies to lovers romance, with a grumpy widowed hero at that, left me a bit piqued. However, the maturity and depth with which Sita handles everything, especially curveballs that comes her way through Penn, make this book worthwhile.

Recommended for fans of romances featuring widowed heroes who are a bit broken on the inside and the heroines who bulldoze their way into mending them.

Final Verdict: My Darling Neighbor offers readers with a captivating blend of passion, emotional depth, and personal growth, with a complex hero coupled with a resilient heroine. Intense chemistry and rich backstories make this a page-turner!

Favorite Quotes

This guy has some nerve. I snort, trying to slide away from him when his large, warm hand wraps around my wrist. “Go to dinner with me.”
My eyes widen as my back is pressed against the wall behind me again and he takes over all the air around me.
There’s no oxygen left.
I’m going to asphyxiate.
I had my whole life ahead of me still.
My chest presses against his as he places his hands on the wall next to my head. The tip of his nose slides down my temple and every little hair on the back of my neck and my arms rises in anticipation.
In anticipation of what, I don’t know, but they’re anticipating something.
“You’re . . ..” Breathe, Sita. Fucking breathe. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Did you finally get my flowers?” he asks as I continue my oral exploration of him.
“Yes.” My breath fans his face. “Thank you.”
His lips find my neck and his scruff scrapes deliciously against my skin. “Did you read the card?”
“Yes. Why should I apologize?”
He starts walking us back to his room and with every step, the bulge in his pajamas bumps against my heated center, creating this delicious thumping right inside my core. Even without seeing it, I know I’m going to want to ride it more than once. I haven’t orgasmed with anyone else before, but I swear, I’m headed toward that right now and he hasn’t even taken off his pants yet.
God, I need him naked right the fuck now.
Naked and ripping me right down the center with that huge rocket he’s packing.
A sweet and sizzling pain ripples across my ass as I realize he’s slapped it and I jolt. I’m about to protest when he does it again and this time, I moan. What the fuck? Why am I moaning?
“Because you’ve been a pain in my ass ever since the day you tried to start a conversation with me in the elevator about the fucking weather.”

I pull off her shorts and feast my eyes on her, completely bare to me–smooth tan skin, delicate curves, and those legs that I’m obsessed with. She’s fucking perfect, like a work of art in some gallery, really. She probably shouldn’t be touched or marked. And if I were a better man, I wouldn’t touch her. I wouldn’t mark her.
If I were a better man, that is.
Because I’m going to paint her with me. Stain her skin with my mouth and my hands. And I’m not even going to apologize about it.
I’m mesmerized taking her all in, suspended in a middle state between reality and fantasy. A fantasy I wish I’d never laid eyes on because now, all I want to do is dream all day.

His tongue pulls out and pushes back into me, and I feel like I lose consciousness, like I’ve just become one with the sky and stars. My release hits me so hard, I almost fold around him. His hands slip up to my waist, keeping me steady as he milks me for everything I have until there’s nothing left for me to give.
Laying me onto the blanket again, he waits for me to find his gaze. When I do, his smug smirk points back at me and I roll my eyes, hiding my own smile. His laugh masks any other sound on this rooftop and I bask in it, letting it descend down my chest and gather in my belly–the place I’m housing his secret.
Can you hear that, little man? That’s your dad’s laugh.

Purchase Links: Amazon

by mvbookreviewer

Review: Adrift by Swati MH

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Oasis
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
POV: First Person, Dual
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Darian Meyer
Heroine: Rani Shah
Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥
Published On: November 10, 2022
Started On: October 03, 2023
Finished On: October 04, 2023

Rani smiles in my direction for the first time since she came out here and something unfurls inside my chest, catching me off-guard. The woman has curves I want my hands on, but there is one curve–her smile–that I know, without a doubt, will lead me into a lot of trouble.

Adrift by Swati MH is my first foray into the author’s writing. Drawn to take the plunge by the forbidden elements of the story and the May-December trope, I was intrigued and found myself with a tale that was engrossing in many ways. Adrift brings to readers the story of 32 year old Darian Meyer, a widowed single father, who is grappling with the overwhelming sorrow of his wife Sonia’s sudden demise, turning his world upside down as he is left to raise their son, Arman, alone.

The story takes an intriguing turn with the introduction of 19 year old Rani Shah, Sonia’s much younger sister. As Rani steps in to help take care of Arman, her presence while it eases the burdens that Darian has been carrying alone all along, it also brings to the forefront something neither would have thought possible; mutual desire that blossoms into something more.

As the fiery attraction between Darian and Rani heats up, Ms. Swati takes readers through the events marking the tumultuous nature of Darian’s past as well as Rani’s strained relations with her mother. While Darian battles with his inner self and laments himself for lusting after his sister in law, Rani grapples with her own feelings of guilt and confusion, acknowledging the vulnerabilities associated with her lack of experience when it comes to the opposite sex.

I loved how relatable both Darian and Rani were, how they were “real” in every sense, and worked through a lot of baggage on both sides to embrace the deep abiding love they find in each other. I loved Darian for bringing the kind of teasing sensuality to the story that is addictive, the kind that makes your heart go stumbling into overdrive, and how inventive he was as a lover. I loved the stolen moments between the two, and how Rani’s insecurities were real and just doesn’t magically disappear. I also loved the kisses between the two – they were of the best kind!

One of the best aspects about Rani’s growth in the story is how she stands up for herself, even when it pains her to do so, especially with her mother. I brought out the pompoms and rooted for her big time and was so proud of her. Coming from an Asian household where such actions are considered taboo at best, it takes great strength to do so and I believe that Rani’s trust in Darian played a huge role in her being able to finally stand up for herself.

Recommended for those who love an emotionally charged romance, featuring two protagonists who are real in every sense!

Final Verdict: Adrift is a beautifully crafted story of love, loss, and healing that would resonate deeply with the reader, with complex characterization and sensuality.

Favorite Quotes

Before I even finish thinking about what I’ve done, yet again, his lips are on mine with a soft growl. Both of his hands stroll up my bare shoulders, finding their way to the side of my face. He cups my cheeks as his tongue sweeps over my lips, asking–no, demanding–entrance into my mouth.
At first, I’m so bewildered by his scent and the feel of his lips on my mouth that I barely respond. But the more he coaxes me out of my stupor–his tongue teasing against my mouth–the more I feel myself give in.
My eyes finally close as my hands slide up his torso, finding purchase on his chest, and I open my mouth, letting him in.

She lets out a staggered breath. “Yes . . ..” Her eyes get a faraway look in them before she grazes her face against mine again and whispers, “No.”
“No?”
She shakes her head. “I mean, I have an idea, but by all means,” she swallows, “if you have more you want to do . . ..” She trails off like she’s imagining all the things I’ve been telepathically planting in her head.
My lips are right above hers. “What I want to do and what I should do, based on our little agreement, are two very different things. For example, what I want to do is take you upstairs and fill you up with my tongue and my cock so you’ll be dripping my spit and cum for days.”
She gasps, her eyes giving away the shock and lust building behind them.
“But I wouldn’t call that going slow,” I add with a raised brow. I inch closer, my lips almost laying on hers. “So, unless you’ve changed your mind . . ..”
“You,” she says breathlessly, pressing her finger into my chest, “are not playing fair, Mr. Meyer.”

His hand travels the length of the back of my thigh under the dress I’d worn to the nursing home today, and it drives me wild. Our lips mesh together and our tongues dance against our moans as his hand continues its slow upward perusal. His eyes fly open in alarm just as he finds my bare ass.
He pulls away from my lips. “You’re not wearing any underwear? What sort of nursing home party did you attend?”
I giggle, leaning further in to press another kiss to his lips before covering his hand–the one still on my bare bottom–with mine and scooting it further up so he finds the top band of my thong.
He groans, running his hand over my ass cheek before pulling me onto him. “Fuck.”

“Jesus, Rani.” He speaks low against my mouth, and I force myself not to scream from the pressure he’s inciting inside of me. “Tell me you want this because I might be getting past the point of stopping. But, baby, I need you to think.” “Yes,” I hiss into his mouth, undulating over him. I’m seconds from shattering, the friction too much, lighting up my body like it’s in a firework display on the Fourth of July. “I want this.” I cup his face with my hands, my eyes hooded. “You’re the only one I want this with.”

He lays a kiss on my lips, watching my face. “Are you okay?”
I nod, panting. “Yes. Darian?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Please move.”
He smiles as his hips start rocking inside me. He takes over with one hand grabbing the back of my knee before driving inside me and my fingernails bite into his shoulder. His lips find mine as we groan into each other, breathing, feeling, needing.
Finally in sync.

Purchase Links: Amazon

by mvbookreviewer

Review: The Heart Breaker by Nicole Jordan

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Western Historical
POV: Third Person, Dual
Series: Rocky Mountain, #2
Publisher: Avon
Hero: Sloan McCord
Heroine: Heather Ashford
Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥🔥
Published On: February 01, 1998
Started On: March 03, 2023
Finished On: March 11, 2023

He’d never been so hungry for a woman before, so hot. He’d never felt this kind of need, mindless, relentless, endless.

The Heart Breaker by Nicole Jordan is a story that takes you to places. Though this is the second book in the Rocky Mountain series, this can totally be read as a standalone.

Sloan McCord is a widowed hero, a single father navigating the complexities of life in the aftermath of a devastating range war. His marriage to a full-blooded Cheyenne woman resulted in his most cherished daughter, Jenna, who was only two months old when her mother was brutally murdered.

Now, more than a year later, Sloan is driven by ambitions to be elected to the Colorado Senate, and to achieve this, he believes he needs a wife who will not only care for his daughter and home but also elevate his social status and help change the hostile perceptions surrounding his support for the “wrong” side during the range war.

Enter Heather Ashford, a woman of rich roots who has fallen on desperate times. Urged by his sister-in-law, Sloan considers Heather as a potential wife. While Sloan wants only a wife of convenience who would allow him to keep his emotions in check, the first meeting between Sloan and Heather puts that notion to shame, as Sloan recognizes in Heather, the woman who has been haunting his dreams.

Despite his desire to keep her at arm’s length, Sloan is undeniably drawn to Heather in a way that leaves him vulnerable and conflicted. The sexual tension that simmers between the two is so well done, that I swear, even re-reading bits of the story for my review more than a year on still moved me to bits! Heather, who is inquisitive and intelligent, is determined to prove her worth, putting her heart and soul into being an equal partner in their marriage.

Ms. Jordan definitely excels in crafting vivid characters, with Sloan’s sensuality and stubborn pride shining through the depths of this story. His struggle with memories of his late wife and his initial decision to start the marriage with separate bedrooms add to the emotional sucker punches that the story delivers in spades, and also brings his internal conflicts when it comes to his burgeoning feelings for Heather to the forefront.

Heather’s unwavering determination in the face of her husband’s often cold, dismissive, and at times cruel behavior makes your heart ache for Heather. It is the reserves of strength that Heather finds and holds onto while trying to make the best of a situation that leaves her emotions in tatters, while her husband sets her body and soul on fire with every searing glance and touch that truly clutches at your heartstrings.

Like many readers, I also found that the story faltered slightly in its climax. The grand gesture and groveling that are meant to bring resolution to Sloan and Heather’s relationship fell a bit flat for me, which was a tad disappointing, given how emotionally invested in both of them I was. Despite this, the overall journey of their evolving relationship is compelling and well-written, not to mention out of this world scorching hot. Sloan is the type of hero I shelve as sex-on-a-stick, because he is all that and more with just his existence in the story.

Recommended for those who love a good western romance and those who adore reluctant widowed heroes who fall that much harder, because of the fact.

Final Verdict: The Heart Breaker by Nicole Jordan offers a rich tapestry of emotion, sensuality, and the slow burn of a developing romance amidst the backdrop of post-war societal challenges. Sloan and Heather’s journey towards happily ever after definitely leaves a lasting impression.

Favorite Quotes

His gaze swept her form slowly, with a vague suggestion of scorn, as though he recognized her as the helpless, inept widgeon he’d rescued from the path of a runaway carriage. Heather flushed, hoping the wide brim of her bonnet hid her mortification.
“You are my hero, sir,” the young lady murmured in breathless praise, demanding his attention.
Suddenly an ironic half-smile curled the corner of his mouth. It was the kind of smile that made sensible women do foolish things, Heather realized, one that softened his hard features with breathtaking effect and invited others to share his amusement.

He moved closer, letting his body touch hers.
The shock was stunning. She felt blistered by his sudden invading heat, by the hard, masculine contours that branded her.
Her heart beat in a wild pulse of alarm and need as he bent his head to her.
Through a daze she heard him whisper against her lips. “You really think you’re woman enough to handle me, duchess?”

His lips were warm and hard, like the man … threatening, dominating … yet somehow gentle. In response, something deep within her body quivered in purely sensual reaction.
His kiss deepened into a bold invasion, his tongue parting her lips and thrusting inside. The intimate intrusion shocked her for an instant. She hadn’t known a man’s kiss could be so blatant, so devastating. Hadn’t known she could respond this way … that she could feel so weak and not… so wanton.

“Don’t fight it,” he said in her ear as she arched against him. “Let it happen.”
Heather whimpered, colors and blinding light blurring before her eyes. It was like being swept up in a storm, unable to do anything but go along for the ride.
The first tiny convulsions swelled to shafts of fire. She strained against him, burning, pulsating, spinning away into a netherworld of shooting flames.

When the woman beneath him splintered into ecstasy, he groaned with a savage need held barely in check. At the rhythmic clenching of her loins, desire shot through his groin, white-hot and explosive.
Unable to restrain his agonized arousal any longer, he surged into her, deep into the tight, wet welcoming of her body. With a final groan, he thrust into her fiercely one last time, before shuddering and collapsing against her, his body pulsing inside hers.

Every muscle in his body tensed in rejection, the sinews cording his neck so rigid they stood out visibly.
A stillness came into the room as their gazes locked, a sense of breathless waiting.
Heather watched him, her urge for self-protection vanishing. This was a man in need.
To his dismay, Sloan couldn’t break the connection with her golden eyes, so warm with concern. He wanted to move away from her, away from the dangerous seduction of her compassion. He was too vulnerable just now. He felt so raw, so tired from the war he was waging. He couldn’t bear to have her this near.
“You’d best go,” he whispered, his voice raw and cracked.
She didn’t stir.
Nor did he. He couldn’t manage it. In his chest he felt that strange swelling, twisting sensation again. He didn’t like it. It hurt to feel. It was easier, safer, to keep himself isolated, remote, his rampaging emotions under tight control.
Yet he had no defense against her. He couldn’t save himself.

“Is it always like this?” she whispered long moments later.
When he didn’t answer, she drew back a little to look down at him.
His eyes grew hooded. He didn’t want to meet her searching gaze.
Just then, they heard the sound of a child’s gurgling laugh through the partially open door. Janna was awake.
Grateful for the interruption, Sloan eased himself from beneath her and left the bed. Giving her a glimpse of taut, bare buttocks, he bent to pull on his denims.
“Hell, it’s just sex, duchess,” he lied. “Happens all the time. Nothing to get worked up about.”

She watched him questioningly as Sloan moved to the damask wing chair beyond the dressing table. Sitting down, he tugged off the rest of his clothing and settled back, naked and relaxed, his upthrusting manhood blatantly masculine between his parted, sinewed thighs.
“Remember how I taught you to ride me?”
“Yes.” The word was a hoarse whisper.
“Why don’t you come here, and we’ll see how much you’ve learned?”

Then what had begun tenderly suddenly turned wild. He gripped her buttocks, no longer in control. She gasped in welcome as he plunged home… arching against him as his huge shaft drove deep and hard… She cried out, sobbing as his wonderful length impaled her helpless body over and over again.
They came together in passion and need. He took her with fierce, insistent thrusts, possessiveness surging through him. She was his; his need was almost violent, his desire uncontrollable.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | eBooks

by mvbookreviewer

Review: The Truth About Love and Dukes by Laura Lee Guhrke

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
POV: Third Person, Dual
Series: Dear Lady Truelove, #1
Publisher: AVON
Hero: Henry Cavanaugh
Heroine: Irene Deverill
Sensuality: 🔥🔥🔥
Published On: March 28, 2017
Started On: December 07, 2022
Finished On: December 24, 2022

“I should like you to consider what impact your decisions may have on the lives of other people. If my mother suffers ridicule and condemnation because of you and your publication, what responsibility do you bear? If her life is ruined, what consequences should there be for yours? Given the part you will have played in her downfall, what punishment will you deserve?”
She inhaled sharply. “Is that a threat?” she asked, her chin tilting up in defiance. “There is nothing you can do to me, sir.”
“You think not?” He gave her a pitying smile. “Oh, my dear Miss Deverill.”

The Truth About Love and Dukes by Laura Lee Guhrke is the debut book in the four book series entitled Dear Lady Truelove. This also brings me to the review of my last read from 2022! Told in the third person from the perspectives of both the hero, Henry Cavanaugh and the heroine, Irene Deverill, this historical romance features an unconventional heroine who runs a gossip tabloid/newspaper to make ends meet.

Henry, the Duke of Torquil is at his wits end because of his fifty year old mother and her letter to the Dear Lady Truelove column, verifying to the ton that his mother was indeed in love with a younger man who happens to be an Italian artist. What has Henry livid is the fact that without thought or concern to what it would mean to the reputation of the family and his two unwed sisters, the response from the columnist has put gasoline to fire by advising his mother to follow the path where passion leads her.

As a consequence, Irene who owns and runs Society Snippets and is the author of the column finds herself faced with the infuriating Duke. Henry seems to be capable of invoking emotions from Irene that she has never experienced before, and for the first time she understands that she is capable of great anger and greater passion as well, all for a man who does not mince words when it comes to what he thinks of the work she undertakes.

Irene is a woman forced into the situation by familial circumstances. While her grandfather had owned the lucrative Deverill Publishing and her father had inherited the business when he had passed on five years earlier, her father managed to bring the entire business to ruin within just an year. To put food on the table and make ends meet, Irene takes on the challenge of bringing her own tabloid paper to life and enjoys doing so, hoping to turn the paper into something more serious and meaningful in time.

Things come to a head when Henry bargains or rather threatens Irene to do the impossible, i.e., make his mother change her mind, and gives her an ultimatum of two weeks while throwing her into situations in which she has to spend more time with the exasperating man himself which brings them both closer to the edge than either of them bargains on. Passion is easier to conquer than the heart, and it is this lesson that both Irene and Henry must learn before a life of shared togetherness and everlasting love is possible for them.

The overall premise of the story had such great promise. I mean how can you go wrong with a widowed hero who keeps his highly sensual and passionate side of him under a tight leash and a woman who is unlike anyone else he has ever come across, who stirs him from the inside out? And this being a Laura Lee Gurhke novel, I had such high hopes for it, which alas did not materialize fully.

Things that worked for me includes the Duke, whose character I loved along with his stuffiness. His character makes sense given how he was brought up by a rigid father who was uncompromising in many aspects, and demanded that Henry follow in his footsteps and stifle the side of him that is passionate. His one indiscretion when he was nineteen years old and the repercussions of it is not something he has forgotten and is paying penance for eight years on.

To be saddled with familial responsibilities that includes two unwed sisters, a penniless younger brother, and a lazy brother-in-law, along with a mother who had suddenly fallen passionately in love inviting societal gossip and ruin to the family name is enough to make even the sternest of men break their stride. Henry attempts to resolve the problem in the only way he knows how, and in the process learns that one cannot control what is beyond one’s own will.

Now Irene on the other hand, did not really win me over even though I really wanted to fall for her character. While I understood the state of affairs which resulted in her having to find an occupation to save her family from ruin, I found her tiresome for the most part. I am all for strong heroines who stand up to their male counterparts, but I just felt that she could have done a better job persuading Henry without all the tongue lashing that she gives him at times.

The story was also a huge disappointment in terms of the red hot passion I was expecting – Ms. Gurhke delivers phenomenally on that score in most of her books, and I was quite ready for the delivery on that score, especially with a tightly buttoned up hero such as Henry. But alas, it fell a bit flat in that regard if you ask me with the story focused on how clever the heroine is for the most part which ruined things if you ask me. I would have loved to see more romance unfold than arguments and recriminations to show how her intelligence and how much she fought for the rights of all mankind.

I feel like that romance writers today try too hard to walk away from what works for their readers, what they are good at writing, trying to conform their stories to the demands of the ever changing society. From skimming most of the reviews on the rest of the books in the series, this seems to have disappointed long term fans of Ms. Gurhke for one reason or the other. Perhaps I might be tempted to pick one of them up somewhere along the way, as I am not someone who entirely depend on other reviews to pick books to read.

Recommended for fans of historical romances who love a heroine that has a modern outlook in life. The one thing you have got to love is the gorgeous cover this one totes!

Final Verdict: A tightly buttoned up Duke and a heroine that I could not really muster up enough enthusiasm for rendered this to be a less enjoyable read to what I was expecting!

Favorite Quotes

He’d swept into her office and into her life two days ago like an arctic storm, seeming the most frigid man she’d ever met, but despite that, strange heat began spreading through her, making her skin prickle and her toes curl in her slippers. He was close enough to her that when she drew in her breath, she could smell the scents of castile soap and bay rum that clung to his skin. She could almost hear his breathing. Time seemed to hang suspended as he filled her senses with a new and different awareness. The awareness of him as a man.

He could be so infuriating, so damnably rigid. And yet, she could not deny his love for his family. It was, she now knew, absolute and all-encompassing—the center of his world. Until now, she hadn’t really appreciated how deeply ingrained in him that quality was, or how attractive it could be. In truth, she hadn’t known such men as that existed at all.

She closed her eyes, and the moment she did, he overwhelmed her senses. There was nothing else in the world but him. His scent—castile soap, bay rum, and something deeper. His taste—port and fruit. His arm like a steel band around her waist. His clothes, soft velvet and crisp linen against her palm, and beneath them, his heart, thudding hard in his chest.

“And do you want to know the most aggravating thing about you?” she demanded, punctuating each word with another tug on his lapels. “It’s that every time I start to think what an amazingly attractive man you are, you open your mouth and ruin it!”
Henry blinked, startled, certain he hadn’t heard correctly. “You think I’m attract—”
“Henry?” She eased between his legs before he could think to stop her, and pulled him closer. “Just shut up,” she said and kissed him.

Irene stared at him, shocked and dismayed. “All this time,” she murmured, “through these nights we have been together, I have been so happy. But you . . .” She stopped, finding it hard to say the words out loud. “But you have not.”
“I have.” His voice was fierce, harsh. His gray eyes were dark and turbulent, but in his face, there was pain, pain that hurt her, too, that made her feel as if her heart was being ripped out of her very chest. “Here in this room, when it is just us and there is nothing else, this time has been the happiest of my life, Irene. But life cannot just be this room. And out there, I am in agony.”

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

by mvbookreviewer

Review: The Mistress Deception by Susan Napier

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Favorite Quotes

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

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

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

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

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

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

by mvbookreviewer

Review: My Dirty Duke by Joanna Shupe

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novella
Genre: Historical Romance
POV: Third Person, Dual
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Maximilian Thomas William Bradley III
Heroine: Lady Violet Littleton
Sensuality: 3.5
Published On: June 07, 2021
Started On: January 02, 2022
Finished On: January 08, 2022

“I’ll see myself out,” she said and turned to the door.
“You are not leaving until you agree never to return.”
She paused and tried to remember this was for the best. Either way, win or lose, she couldn’t pursue Max like a hound after a fox forever. “I won’t return until you invite me.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she gave him a heated look from under her lashes. “Because you will come looking for me, Your Grace. And when you do, I’ll be waiting.”

My Dirty Duke by Joanna Shupe is my first foray into the author’s writing and I am happy to report that this story was mesmerizing and that I loved every aspect of it.

18 year old Lady Violet Littleton falls in love with the Duke of Ravensthorpe, Maximilian Thomas William Bradley III (Max) at a tender age. At the time, it is his tenderness that catches her heart. It is only when Violet turns of age that she starts to understand the reasons behind her fascination with the Duke who makes her heart race, her insides yearn with longing. Max is the man who stars as the centerfold of her dirtiest fantasies.

Violet bides her time looking on at the Duke, who also happens to be her father’s closest friend. Though the Duke stops visiting their home since her debut, Violet has no qualms about “spying” on Max whenever she encounters him at society functions. However, her secret longings are laid bare for the Duke to see when she spies on him during one of his garden trysts, leaving Violet with little else to do but be honest about what she wants from him.

Max’s resistance to Violet stems from a lot of things; he is old enough to be her father and he has sworn off marriage since the death of his wife during child birth. After all, a man like him should not pursue an innocent like Violet without noble intentions. But resistance does prove to be futile once he has a taste of Violet and the passion that she invokes in him which he has denied for too long. But fiery passion alone cannot be enough, especially for Violet, and facing a shared future might prove to be Max’s undoing in every sense.

As mentioned earlier, I loved everything to do with this story. I had just one problem; I wished for this to have been a full length novel which would have delivered the kind of angst and emotions that a short length story does not allow the time for. However, even with that limitation, Ms. Shupe did an amazing job out of carving out her characters and giving them life in a way that speaks to the hearts of readers.

Max is such a compelling hero – he is kind, forthright, and a deeply sensual man who carries a wealth of guilt associated with the death of his wife. I would be giving away too much if I were to delve into the reasons behind the guilt but needless to say, Violet is exactly what he needs, even if Max might believe otherwise. The guilt is one huge aspect that makes him resist any of kind long-lasting relationship that could lead to marriage, and Violet spells trouble with a capital T for him in that regard.

Violet’s quiet determination and strength was what drew me to her the most; the way she never cowered from going after what she wanted, knowing full well that heartbreak would be the result. She also was independent in a way that drew me to her; she was her own person and her love for the Duke was just a part of that same personality. She was intuitive in a way that makes her perfect for someone like Max, who guards his heart closely. I loved the gauntlet that she threw at Max, something which proved to be the tipping point in the story. The steam between the two just cements the emotional goodness and that is why this made for a tantalizing read when all was said and done.

Definitely recommended for fans of historical romances laced with passion and endearing characters to boot!

Final Verdict: With My Dirty Duke, Ms. Shupe proves to readers the kind of riveting read that a talented author can provide, even through a novella! Splendid read!

Favorite Quotes

He made no move to assist her, only held perfectly still as she slipped one brace over his shoulder, then the other. When she finished, she sat back on her knees and waited for him to continue with instructions.
“My shirt.”
His collar and necktie had already been removed, so she leaned in once more and set to work on the small buttons on his chest. His lean muscles rippled beneath her fingers, the carefully leashed power betrayed by his rapid breathing.
When enough buttons were loosened, she dragged the expanse of fabric over his head, Ravensthorpe lifting his arms to help. The thin garment he wore underneath was of the finest cloth, and it outlined the thick muscle and sinew, the flat planes and elegant grace. Another wave of heat rolled through her, centering between her legs.
More.

She worked hard then, moving faster to show him without words how much she wanted to please him. He grunted and rocked his hips, lost in the moment, until he suddenly lifted her up and away from his erection. In a blink, she found herself on her back, Ravensthorpe leaning over her, pressing her into the floor an instant before he sealed his mouth to hers in a punishing kiss.
This was no sweet melding of lips as described by poets and schoolgirls. No, he devoured her, his mouth immediately opening to give her his tongue. She took it eagerly, widening to allow him in, reveling in the slick heat as his tongue twined with hers. This kiss was a battle, a test. He was showing her all the passion, all the lust inside him, and she had to prove that she could accept it. Prove that she wanted it.

“Spread your legs. Show me.”
Those pale thighs parted, revealing her pussy, and he couldn’t breathe. Goddamn beautiful. Arousal glistened on the petals, with more gathered around the entrance. He traced the soft flesh with a fingertip, relishing the slick her body produced for him. “Is all this for me?” She watched him with wide eyes as he brought the finger to his mouth and sucked the sweetness onto his tongue. “Oh, my darling girl. I fear I’ll never get enough of your taste.”

She was close, her body stretched like a bowstring, her chest pumping in a desperate plea for air. Max needed to feel her inexperienced walls clamp down, if not on his shaft, then on his finger. He carefully slid the tip of his smallest finger inside her cunt, and her slick walls sucked him inside as if starved. God, how he wished . . .
No. He could not even contemplate it.
Then it happened. Her thighs shook around his head, her cries ringing in his ears as she found her peak. The release went on and on, her body completely his in that moment, and the satisfaction he experienced as she climaxed on his tongue was incomparable.

Strong fingers wrapped around her arm and began pulling her deeper into the gloom, helping her down the stone steps. She didn’t need to see his face to know it was Max. His presence surrounded her, a feeling of safety and danger, arousal and comfort all at the same time. She went willingly, eagerly, unconcerned with getting caught. Strong fingers wrapped around her arm and began pulling her deeper into the gloom, helping her down the stone steps. She didn’t need to see his face to know it was Max. His presence surrounded her, a feeling of safety and danger, arousal and comfort all at the same time. She went willingly, eagerly, unconcerned with getting caught.
Once on the ground, he tugged her into an alcove hidden underneath the stairs. Before she could see his face, he was on her, the muscular length of him flush to her front, her back against the rough stone.
But he didn’t kiss her.
He put his mouth near her ear, his warm breath coasting over her skin. “Happy, little mouse? For two weeks I’ve tried to forget you. A goddamn fortnight, yet here I am—all because I cannot get the taste of your pussy out of my head.”

He was so beautiful with his chiseled jaw and the few silver threads at his temple, his skin taut with excitement. She reached her other hand down to his testicles, rolled them in her palm, and Max let out a drawn out, “Fuck.”
Hot breath hit her cheek as he began to talk. “We haven’t long. Your father is in the card room and he’ll come looking for you when he’s done. I have the taste of you in my mouth. Would you like the taste of me in your mouth, as well?”

“I expected to be torn in two. Instead I feel . . . full.” She wriggled, causing him to shift inside her, and he screwed his eyes shut, struggling not to spend before they even got started. “I like it,” she said.
Dear God.
Max gave a thrust of his hips, his shaft dragging along her sensitive tissues, and Violet purred. “Goodness, I like that even more.”
He was done for.
Any civility he possessed disappeared and Max snapped, driving into her again and again.

He leaned over her, snarling in her ear as his hips worked, his cock plunging in and out of her channel. “You like this, my little mouse? You want more?”
“Oh, Max, yes. Please.”
“You’re going to let me fuck you whenever I want, aren’t you?” He couldn’t seem to stop talking, especially when her walls clenched every time he did. She likes my dirty words.“Your cunt was made for my cock. I’ve never had better.”

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | BookDepo

by mvbookreviewer

Review: It Happened One Summer by Tessa Bailey

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Bellinger Sisters, #1
Publisher: Avon
Hero: Brendan Taggart
Heroine: Piper Bellinger
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: July 13, 2021
Started On: November 28, 2021
Finished On: December 14, 2021

It Happened One Summer, the debut book in the Bellinger Sisters series by Tessa Bailey features two main protagonists who are the complete opposite of each other, the journey they travel towards finding their other half in one another making for an enjoyable read.

The story begins with 28 year old Piper Bellinger being dumped by her current boyfriend in the midst of a party, a nightmare for someone like Piper who lives for the likes and comments on social media profiles. Piper considers her career to be partying and being seen in the right places. Her stepfather being loaded enough for her to afford the lifestyle she leads means that Piper had never really grown up, nor had she ever felt the need to.

Her delayed reaction to the breakup however turns out to be the last straw for her stepfather, and with the need to teach her a lesson driving him, Piper is “exiled” to her father’s hometown in Westport for three months. While everyone (including herself) expects her to fail to live up the requirements of her stay in Westport, Piper has no other avenues to turn to and it is thus she and her sister Hannah find themselves in the town where their deceased father is a revered hero of sorts, the last man of the Westport crew to die while hunting the almighty king crab on the Bering Sea.

From the instance that Piper walks into the bar which her her father owns the deed to, she clashes with Brendan Taggart, a man who seems to engulf her every sense from the get go. As a seaman and captain of Della Ray, the wheel of which he had taken over from his father-in-law, Brendan is a man who is a stickler for routine, never straying from his tight schedules and the regimented lifestyle which keeps him grounded. But all of that is shaken up by none other than Piper, who for the first time in seven long years makes him want to move on from his revered status as a widower.

While Brendan is a bit grumpy and gives Piper attitude at first, all of that changes with the realization of the extensive nature of his burgeoning feelings towards Piper. The lady herself, who has never really even considered putting down roots in a place other than a vibrant city with a nightlife to beckon her, finds herself swayed by the quaint charm that is small town life, where without even realizing, she makes herself an integral part of the small community.

But then again, the past has a way of rearing its ugly head when its least wanted, and that is exactly what happens, giving the story a healthy dose of angst to make things more well rounded towards the final stretch.

I thoroughly enjoyed the story of Piper and Brendan, each being unique and refreshing in a way that made them easily earn their rightful place in my heart. Queen of Smut, aka Ms. Bailey definitely delivers on THAT front, leaving readers with their scorched e-readers to contend with when all is said and done. Watching Piper embrace the wholesome version of herself was an added bonus which I loved!

I am definitely looking forward to the next installment in the series which is set to hit the book stands on the first of next month. No time like the present to get your hands on this one!

Final Verdict: With It Happened One Summer, Ms. Tessa Bailey weaves a complex character-driven story full of heart and the best kind of smut, rendering this unputdownnable!

Favorite Quotes

One second he was holding the toolbox, the next it was on the ground and he was turning. Piper’s momentum brought her up against Brendan’s body, hard, and his boat captain forearm wrapped around her lower back, lifting her just enough that her toes brushed the concrete. And then he bowed her backward on that steel arm, stamping his mouth down onto hers in an epic kiss. It was like a movie poster, with the male lead curling his big, hunky body over the swooning, feminine lady and taking his fill.
What?
What was she thinking? Her brain was clearly compromised—and it was no wonder. The mouth that found hers was tender and hungry, all at once. Worshipful, but restraining an appetite like she’d never encountered. As soon as their lips connected and held, her fingers curled into the neck of his T-shirt, and that arm at the small of her back levered her upright, flattening the fronts of their bodies, and oh God, he just devoured her.

That big body swayed closer, lines of strain appearing around his mouth. “Please . . .”
“You don’t have to beg,” Piper said, bringing the champagne flute to her breasts, tipping the glass and letting the champagne trickle out over one nipple, then the next, and Brendan started to pant. “Not for something we both want. Touch me, Brendan. Taste me. Please?”
“Christ, I have to.” He traced his mouth to her left nipple, pressed his bared teeth against it, before rubbing his tongue against the stiff bud, yanking her hips forward, the move arching her back so she had to use his hair for balance, taking two big handfuls. Her mouth was in an O, watching him savor her, manhandle her body. No games. Just need.

He stared hard at her juncture, the grip on her knees flexing, a curse issuing unsteadily from his mouth. “Yeah, I have to be an idiot leaving you without my attention for two weeks.”
She panted. “Are you calling me high maintenance?”
“Are you denying it?” He tugged aside the strip of material shielding her core, which thankfully she’d waxed clean as a whistle right before leaving LA. “Fuck me. You can be as high maintenance as you want, honey. But I’m the only one who does the maintenance.” He ran his thumb down the seam of her sex. “Understood?”
Piper nodded, as if in a trance.

His lips ghosted up her inner thigh, blunt fingers hooking in the sides of her panties. “Lift up,” he rumbled, nipping at her sensitive skin with his teeth. “Want them off.”
Oh great. His voice could get even deeper? It resonated all the way up to her clit, and she fell back on her elbows, inching her hips up enough for Brendan to peel the thong down her legs. She watched this man, who grew more exciting by the moment, expecting him to drop the underwear on the floor. He wrapped the thin black material around his shaft instead, pressing his mouth and nose up against her wetness, groaning as he choked himself up and down in a tight fist.
“Holy . . .” Piper breathed, momentarily blacking out.
“See this, baby?” He rubbed his mouth side to side, parting the damp folds of her femininity, that hand jerking roughly between his thighs. “You’re still getting me off, too.”

He all but fell on her, his face landing in the crook of her neck, his fist positioning his stiffness between her thighs, right over that uber-sensitive flesh. “One day soon, Piper, I’m going to fuck you so goddamn hard.” He alternated between dragging his swollen tip through her saturated folds and stroking himself. “Going to fuck the word ‘friend’ right out of your beautiful mouth. You’ll forget how to say anything but my name. Real quick, honey.”
Her clit hummed again, unbelievably, and that buzz of connection, of more promised pleasure had to be the reason she turned her head slightly, whispering in his ear, “Promise?”
With a strangled growl of her name, he hit his peak, shooting moisture onto her belly, his hand moving in a blur, his teeth bared against the side of her throat. “Piper. Piper.”

The moment their mouths collided, Brendan knew he’d made a mistake. He should have waited to kiss her until they were home in his bed, because the uncertainty of the last eleven days reared back and punched him. It did the same to Piper—he could feel it.
She gave a broken moan and opened her sweet mouth for him, her breath coming in short pants almost immediately, just like his. He’d barely slid his tongue between her lips when she gripped his shoulders, drew herself high against his chest, and slung her legs around his waist. And Jesus, he’d already been halfway to hard, but his cock surged against his fly now, swelling like a motherfucker when she settled the warm give of her sex on top of him, the drag of friction making him curse. Making him wish they were anywhere but a hospital hallway, half an hour from his house.

Lips seeking and wet, their kiss escalated to the point of no return again. They both wrestled with the waistband of her yoga pants, shoving them down past her hips, lower until she could kick them away. And then she was back to climbing him, her lithe thighs skimming up to his waist, his hips punching forward to get his cock up against her softness, pinning her to the wall in the process.
“Noticed we didn’t have to get any panties off,” he said in between kisses, finding her incredible ass with both hands and kneading her buns almost angrily, because Jesus, this thing drove him fucking crazy. “You drive here in my truck with a bare pussy, Piper?”
She bit his bottom lip, tugged. “Slept in your bed with it, too.”

“This bed isn’t strong enough to survive what I’m going to do to you,” Brendan growled against her mouth, capturing her lips again in a kiss fraught with male sexual frustration. It let her know in no uncertain terms that she was the source and he’d be exacting revenge.
Take it. Take it.
Without breaking contact with her mouth, Brendan’s hand wedged down between them and wrestled his zipper down, the desperation of his jerky movements exciting her like nothing else, dampening the folds between her legs. “Hurry,” she begged, biting at his lips. “Hurry.”
“Goddammit, Piper, you make me so fucking hard.”

“Tell me you’re wet. Tell me to put it in.”
“I’m so wet,” she moaned, lifting her hips, running the insides of her knees up and down his heaving rib cage. “I’m ready. I need you. Rough as you can.”
That full, smooth dome pressed up against her entrance, and she braced, one hand flying to his shoulder, the other to the wooden bunk rail. And still she wasn’t prepared for the savagery of that first thrust. With a hoarse roar, his hips drove Piper up the narrow bed, his thickness invading all available space within her, and without allowing her time to acclimate, he was already pumping feverishly, rocking the bed with staccato squeaks.

“Brendan,” she gasped. Then louder, “Brendan. You’re so good. It’s so good.”
“I’ll never lie in this bed again without having to jerk off.” His hand came up to frame her jaw, applying just enough pressure while looking her square in the eye that another rush of wetness coated her sex, aiding him in his destruction of her senses. “You love knowing that, don’t you? You love making me fucking crazy.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Sure you want to be my boyfriend?”
“Yes,” he growled, and slammed into her, holding still, deep, his pained face dropping into the crook of her neck. “And don’t call me that right now or I’m going to come.”
Oh. Jesus. That confession sent a contracting ripple through Piper’s core, and she let out a strangled sob, her hands flying to Brendan’s ass inside his loosened jeans, fingernails sinking in and yanking him, scraping pathways into his flesh. “Oh my God. N-now. Now.”

She was panting as he rose, dropped his chest down onto her back and pushed his cock inside of her still-contracting pussy. “Mine,” he gritted, the tightness of her cinching his balls up painfully, firing every ounce of his blood with possessiveness. “I’m taking what’s mine now.”
A movement ahead of them on the bed reminded Brendan of the mirrored headboard, and he almost came, caught off guard by the erotic sight of her slack jaw and tits that bounced along with every pump of his hips. His body loomed behind her, damn near twice her size, his lips peeled back from his teeth like he might very well devour her whole.

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: The Guarded Heart by Robyn Donald

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: Nicholas Challoner
Heroine: Alannah Finderne
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: July 25, 1983
Started On: August 22, 2021
Finished On: September 01, 2021

The Guarded Heart by Robyn Donald is certainly a fitting title for a book that features a widowed hero who is determined that he would exact his revenge by forcing the woman responsible for the untimely death of his wife and unborn child into a marriage with him.

Only in her wildest dreams or nightmares rather, would 19 year old Alannah Finderne have ever thought that she would end up tying the knot with Nicholas Challoner, the man whose mere gaze chills her to her very core. But forced into a marriage with him because of the circumstances, Alannah nevertheless has a stark choice before her; make herself miserable by denying what Nicholas invokes in her, or surrender.

Both Alannah and Nicholas are intensely proud characters, stubborn to a fault, and as a result drives each other crazy – mostly not in a good way. But I found the story as it developed to be an interesting one nevertheless, realistic too if you ask me. How would I react if I were forced to marry a man, the demise of the love of whose life I was responsible for? Not to mention the age gap, the fact that the man loathes my very existence and marries me just so that he could have children with me, and making suffer would be an added bonus while at it? I guess I too would come out with my guns blazing, if I were not a heroine of the doormat variety.

The Guarded Heart is the first novel that I can recall, where the hero actually slaps the heroine – usually it is the other way around because the hero is being an ass; and I guess if we apply the same principles here, the heroine was also being rather cruel at that point. Makes me question as to why I accept it at face value when the heroine slaps the hero but I have a tough time reconciling with the fact when the heroine is on the receiving end. Goes to show that we all carry our prejudices that spills over every now and then.

Nicholas proves to be an interesting character, whose emotions we have to gauge through the observations that the heroine makes along the way. I would have liked it a bit better if I saw a bit more of those tightly guarded emotions from Nicholas that would have made the story more heartwarming when all was said and done.

Given that this story was first published when I was just over a year old, reading this almost 38 years later did not detract from the enjoyment factor – I am after all a masochist in my reading preferences; the more pain a story makes me go through, the better I like it.

Recommended for fans of old Harlequin romances and fans of Robyn Donald.

Final Verdict: The Guarded Heart often makes you want to just shake the main protagonists, but underneath all that stubbornness lies hearts that are brimming with love, the unfolding of which I enjoyed!

Favorite Quotes

Shivers racked her. Blindly, sensually, she ran her hands from his waist to his shoulders, felt with bitter delight the sudden tensing of his muscles and explored further, the tips of her fingers delicately stroking the muscles on his arms, the smooth heated skin across his back.
He groaned her name, his mouth hot against the turgid peak of her breast, and she sighed raggedly and began to move beneath him, undulating in a way that instinct told her would further inflame him.

His hands slid to her hips; when they paused she opened tortured eyes and saw reflected in his face the agony and need that had her in its grip. And with the first hard thrust of his body the world exploded, sensation piled on sensation so that beneath her eyelids there was a sunburst of colour and she was falling, falling into its vortex, sobbing, gasping, her body racked by an ecstasy so far beyond her hidden fantasies that she thought she might die.

Very slowly she reached out a finger and touched the jewel, then pushed it to one side as she got up from the bed. When Andrew was tucked in beneath the mosquito netting she came back, and picked the beautiful thing up. Nicholas watched her through heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth compressed and grim.
‘Put it on me,’ she said huskily, and turned her back to him, brushing her curls forward to leave the vulnerable nape of her neck bare.
His fingers barely touched her skin, but she shivered as she faced him.
‘How does it look?’ she asked.
Anger glittered in his glance and there was a pallor around his mouth that warned her she was pushing him very close to the edge. He didn’t so much as glance at the necklace; from beneath a frown his gaze was fixed on her as though he would like to hurt her.
She knew a moment’s fear before he said slowly, thickly, ‘Like you. Beautiful, making no concessions, setting its own standards.’

‘Tell me you love me,’ he demanded, moving so that he loomed over her, his lips only a fraction away from hers.
‘I love you—I love you with everything I am. Nick—please—’
‘And that you want me.’ He was merciless, his expression so ferociously controlled that for a moment she was afraid.
‘You know—’
‘Tell me!’
‘Oh, God, I want you.’ Tears glazed her eyes. She was hypnotised by her own sensuality. Twisting, writhing beneath him, she slid her hands to his hips, pulling him down to her. ‘I love you so much I could die for you,’ she groaned.

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Not Another Bad Date by Rachel Gibson

Format: E-Book
Read with: Kindle Paperwhite
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Series: Writer Friends, #4
Publisher: Avon
Hero: Zachary James Zemaitis
Heroine: Adele Harris
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: May 27, 2008
Started On: August 20, 2021
Finished On: August 21, 2021

Not Another Bad Date by Rachel Gibson is a second-chance themed romance set in Texas. 25 year old Adele Harris believes herself to be cursed when it comes to love, and with good reason; she has not had a good date or decent sex in years. Having been in love twice in her life, the last time being three years back, it is however her first love that she still recalls with clarity because of the intensity that it had been.

14 years since they briefly dated, Adele once again comes across Zachary James Zemaitis, the man who broke her heart all those years ago. Widowed and a single father now, Zach coaches high-school ball and is determined that he would do right when it comes to his daughter Tiffany, as his career as an NFL quarterback had meant missing out on a lot for the first ten years of her life.

When circumstances force Adele to move back to Cedar Creek for a couple of months, she is more than shocked to find out of the untimely demise of Zach’s wife, for whom Zach had walked away from Adele all those years ago. Once bitten, twice as shy, Adele is determined that she would keep Zach at arm’s distance, but then again, the lazy charm that Zach had won her over with back then, not to mention the blistering sexual heat that is between them which seems to be more pronounced than even before, is a tough mix to walk away from.

Not Another Bad Date is a story that while I enjoyed, I believe could have been better. Perhaps it is because the story did not turn out as I exactly thought it would be, with the ghost of Zach’s wife being the catalyst that kick-starts the current chain of events, that particularly did not work for me. I believe Zach and Adele would have gotten there even without the dead wife being part of the picture. While Zach has his own baggage from how he was forced to get married, the disillusionment that had caught up with him a couple of years later; all that and more makes Zach reluctant to start something that could lead to a permanent situation.

Enjoyable in its way, Not Another Bad Date is recommended for fans of Rachel Gibson and for those who love second-chance romances!

Final Verdict: When fate intervenes, resistance is futile – that is what Zachary and Adele finds out as these two find their way back to each other!

Favorite Quotes

As if she hadn’t spoken, he pushed her hair to one side. “Would you drive me insane like you used to?” He lowered his face, and his breath warmed the side of her neck. “And honey, you drove me out of my mind.” He slid one big hand around her side to her flat stomach and pulled her back against his hard chest. “I was the first man to make love to you. I haven’t forgotten that.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“You haven’t forgotten, either.” His lips brushed her heated skin, and those hot little tingles she’d worried about spread warmth all over her body.

“I need you.”
“No. You want me.”
“Same thing.”
“No. Oxygen is something you need.” Her back hit the wall next to the last bathroom stall.
“Just be still,” he said, and placed his hands on her shoulders. “And stop running from me.”
“Stop coming after me.”
He shook his head as his brown gaze stared into hers. “I’m beginning to think I need you like I need oxygen.”

“I think you’re going to like this.” She straddled his hips, positioned herself, then slowly sat. He was big and extremely hard, and she took her time, feeling every bulge and ridge through the thin latex until the head of his penis bumped her cervix.
His breath hissed from his lungs as his hands slid up her thighs and hips to her waist. “You look good up there. I like it already.”
“It gets better.” Slowly she raised herself, rocking her hips and sliding back down. She teased him with her body, clenching her muscles around him, drawing his flesh deeper, using him to build and stroke the sexual fire burning through her.
“You’ve learned a few things,” he said, his grip on her waist tightening.
She rolled and rotated her hips, feeding his need and hers, and looked into his drugged eyes as he watched her. She bent forward to kiss the side of his neck. Her breasts pressed into his chest, and she whispered into his ear, “You feel good. Hard. Huge.”
He rolled with them until she was on her back looking up into his face. His fingers curled with hers, and his mouth came down hard.

She rolled the condom down his shaft and pushed his shoulders until he sat submerged in bubbles halfway up the defined muscles of his chest. She straddled his hips, placed her palms on the sides of his face, and kissed him. The tips of her breasts brushed his warm skin, and she ran her fingers through his hair. She kissed his neck and his throat, and her hands ran all over him, touching as much of him as she could reach. It wasn’t just sex now. There was more involved than just body parts, and when she took him deep into her body, her hands returned to the sides of his face and she stared into his eyes. His labored breath brushed her cheek as she moved and rocked her hips.
“Zach,” she whispered, her voice heavy with desire and emotion. Within minutes an orgasm rushed across her skin and gripped her heart. Her vaginal walls tightened around him, and his fingers dug into her behind. As he came into her body, she kissed his mouth, filling the kiss with the new and conflicted feelings she felt in her heart.

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