by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Cold Secrets by Toni Anderson

Format: E-bookcoldsecrets
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Series: Cold Justice, #7
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Lucas Randall
Heroine: Ashley Chen
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: January 31, 2017
Started On: January 10, 2017
Finished On: January 27, 2017

The 7th book in the Cold Justice series brings to readers a story that drives home the point that Toni Anderson is an author who delivers on all fronts where the romantic suspense genre is concerned. Every single book in this delectable series has been a hit for me, the subject matter that Ms. Anderson takes on in each of the stories being ones that are often difficult to write about with a measure of objectivity and impartiality. In Cold Secrets, Ms. Anderson delves into the world of sex trafficking, especially that of children who gets the short end of the stick where the fastest growing industry in the criminal world is concerned.

It all begins with the hunt for a little girl, where FBI Agent Lucas Randall finds himself going undercover as a john, the girl who is believed to have been kidnapped by an international ring of sex traffickers. The operation goes horribly wrong, with Lucas barely managing save his own life. Thus begins the hunt for a group of people who always seem to be one step ahead of the team of FBI agents allocated for the task, which is how computer expert and FBI agent Ashley Chen finds herself crossing paths with Lucas.

From the moment these two meet, there is an awareness that is almost palpable in the air. Ashley is someone who holds herself aloof and centers her life around work. She believes that the mistakes that she has made owing to wanting “normalcy” has cost her too much in her life and therefore has no intention of saying yes to the answering heat that flares to life deep inside of herself where Lucas is concerned. At first, Lucas is a bit skeptical of the talent and determination that drives Ashley. While Ashley herself is determined that this would be the case that would prove her worth to the establishment, she finds herself drawn deeper into a case that could hit far too close to the lies that has practically defined her past to a point.

Cold Secrets brings forth a multi-layered story, where as each layer is revealed makes the reader go a-ha!, just like that. I believe that that is part of the ingenuity that makes Ms. Anderson the master she is in weaving stories of the kind. The issue of sex trafficking as well as that of pedophilia is handled, both with the kind of sensitivity that won my wholehearted approval. Neither of these issues are easy to talk about, probe into, dissect and discuss. But I believe that in Cold Secrets, Ms. Anderson has definitely done a praiseworthy job of including the pertinent details without getting bogged down in the unnecessary when it comes to the story.

Being the geek I am, I especially loved the tidbits about the technological aspects that Ms. Anderson included in the story. Well researched is how I would conclude all the facets explored in the novel. Considering the fact that Ashley is someone who works on computers and has dreams of becoming part of the cyber-crime security expert team, there is a bit of jargon that needs to be handled in a way that does not bore the less tech savvy members of the readers community. I loved it all. The statistics, the intricate working mechanisms behind the DarkNet, and the role the Tor browser plays in all of it; all of that were intellectually stimulating to this brain of mine.

Another aspect that is part of the Cold Justice series is the way it delves into issues that relates to how the lines between liberty and privacy and the grey areas that agents often have to work around in order to nab criminals whose nefarious tendencies are protected by the letter of the law that they manipulate by using an army of highly paid lawyers. The fact that this requires painstaking work on the part of law enforcement officials, requiring them to dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s is one that is at times frustrating, but then again, that is what the justice system is all about. I love how these stories sheds light onto all these aspects without getting procedural about the whole thing. That is one of the many reasons that I would always keep coming back for more where Toni Anderson is concerned.

Another facet of the story that I adored were Lucas and Ashley, both of whom I loved. Lucas is just so darn sexy and admirable in the way that he knows how to “handle” someone as prickly and difficult as Ashley, and I mean that in the best way possible. Lucas is light where Ashley is darkness in comparison. Lucas is open and frank in his interest when it comes to Ashley, but with her, it is a fact that she is constantly warring with herself to not make the same sort of mistake that could be costly as her past had taught her. Even with all that, the sizzling attraction that at times you could cut through with a knife makes it impossible to turn away from and that is exactly what happens to Ashley when it comes to Lucas. The sexual tension was done perfectly well, the scenes of passion just as much! The ending when it came, I could not have asked for anything better.

A job well done, Ms. Anderson!

Final Verdict: Ms. Anderson wows readers yet again by taking on Chinese organized crime & spinning a tale that hits all the marks!

Favorite Quotes

Yesterday, she’d kissed him. It was only fair to return the favor.
He dipped his head, captured her lips and she opened her mouth with a groan. It was like diving into sin and temptation. Heat and pleasure flared between them and made the frigidity of the night, the damp dirtiness of the alley, and the grim reality of the case, all disappear.
Her body rose to meet his and he dove deeper, tangling his tongue with hers, feeling the fervor of her response. He didn’t let go of her wrists, but his other hand tugged her silky shirt out of her pants so he could reach inside and cup those perfect breasts.
Lace scraped his palm and made him instantly rock hard.

“I like you, Ashley, or haven’t you figured that out yet?”
Fear entered her gaze and she turned her cheek away from his touch. “Please don’t.”
“Please don’t what?” he asked. “Like you? You think I kiss every woman I come across in the street?”
Ashley sent him a disdainful glare. “If either of us had had a condom you’d have gotten your reward for that kiss, and you know it.”
He was so close he could still smell traces of her arousal and it twisted his good sense. “I had my reward, sweetheart. Watching you lose it isn’t something I’m going to forget anytime soon.”

“Don’t be naive, Lucas. You don’t have to like someone to fuck them,” she snapped.
Her attempt to push him away didn’t surprise him, but it did make him angry. “You’re right. I wouldn’t have to like you to fuck you, but God help me, I do.” He leaned closer. “And after feeling you come all over my fingers I really want to fuck you. So keep that in mind next time you follow me down a back alley at midnight.”

His hands urged her on, harder, faster. And even though there were no spaces left to fill she still wanted more of him; she wanted to swallow him whole. He sank his fingers into her long hair, rearing up until he could graze her neck with strong white teeth. Still he demanded more, forcing her to keep chasing that edge again, but with him this time. He nudged her knees wider
apart and she sank even further down his length and cried out. He lay back on the bed and his fingers found her nipple and clit, pinching them both at exactly the same time and making her shatter. Her cries echoed off the walls.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | iTunes

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell

Format: E-bookeleanorandpark
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Young Adult
Series: Standalone
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press
Hero: Park
Heroine: Eleanor
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: February 26, 2013
Started On: September 07, 2016
Finished On: September 08, 2016

Rainbow Rowell is an author who is completely in a league of her own in the way she makes her characters and stories come alive with so much emotion that it practically hurts you – but in a good way. Eleanor and Park is no exception to this rule, and though the ending was a bit hasty for my tastes after the grueling bouts of angst that Rowell puts readers through, this is a story that has stayed with me long after I was done with it.

Eleanor is the new girl, who with a style that does not fit in with the rest, makes Park want to get away from it all. But even then, with all his misgivings about her, he does slide over in the bus and gives Eleanor the seat next to him to sit. Thus Eleanor and Park finds themselves going through the motions of friendship which grows into something tender, stronger and wilder by the turn of each page, all right before your eyes. Their love unfurls in a setting that is as simple and ordinary as they come. At the back of a school bus that ferries them back and forth day in and day out.

While Park has a relatively good life, Eleanor’s is one that is filled with horrors of the kind we would all rather not even think about. The fact that her mother does try to protect her does not mean much in the face of what is as inevitable as night turning to day, and one cannot help but be appalled, scared and wanting to grab Eleanor right out of the pages and provide her with a safe haven.

Like most readers I believe, I loved the bits where Park started to communicate with Eleanor in subtle ways at first, which developed into something that was so wonderful that it made my heart ache. I could not put this down from the minute I started reading, and I would not have had it any other way. Eleanor and Park is a story that is meant to be read in one sitting, a story that is meant to be devoured, if nothing else, just to feel the thousand and one emotions that courses right through you from start to finish.

Definitely recommended!

Final Verdict: A love that leaves you aching and wanting; Eleanor & Park is a novel not to be missed!

Favorite Quotes

“I read it again twice last night. You can take it tonight.”
“Yeah? Thanks.”
He was still holding the end of her scarf, rubbing the silk idly between his thumb and fingers. She watched his hand.
If he were to look up at her now, he’d know exactly how stupid she was. She could feel her face go soft and gummy. If Park were to look up at her now, he’d know everything.
He didn’t look up. He wound the scarf around his fingers until her hand was hanging in the space between them.
Then he slid the silk and his fingers into her open palm.
And Eleanor disintegrated.

“I don’t like you, Park,” she said, sounding for a second like she actually meant it. “I…”—her voice nearly disappeared—“think I live for you.”
He closed his eyes and pressed his head back into his pillow.
“I don’t think I even breathe when we’re not together,” she whispered. “Which means, when I see you on Monday morning, it’s been like sixty hours since I’ve taken a breath. That’s probably why I’m so crabby, and why I snap at you. All I do when we’re apart is think about you, and all I do when we’re together is panic. Because every second feels so important. And because I’m so out of control, I can’t help myself. I’m not even mine anymore, I’m yours, and what if you decide that you don’t want me? How could you want me like I want you?”

There’s only one of him, she thought, and he’s right here.
He knows I’ll like a song before I’ve heard it. He laughs before I even get to the punch line. There’s a place on his chest, just below his throat, that makes me want to let him open doors for me.
There’s only one of him.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: To Desire a Devil by Elizabeth Hoyt

Format: E-booktodesireadevil
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Legend of the Four Soldiers, #4
Publisher: Vision
Hero: Reynaud St. Aubyn
Heroine: Beatrice Corning
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: November 1, 2009
Started On: August 25, 2016
Finished On: August 30, 2016

To Desire a Devil, the last book in the Legend of the Four Soldiers series by Elizabeth Hoyt is a hard book to rate. This book had so much potential; after all, all the preceding stories had pretty much delivered on all fronts. Yet, this book sort of fell flat where every other book shined, and I could not muster enough enthusiasm for the main protagonists in the story either.

Reynaud St. Aubyn, the Viscount of Hope, returns home to a shocked household, who had all presumed him dead for seven long years. Held captive by Indians, Reynaud had not survived the hand that he had been dealt with, to walk away now from the challenge of proving himself to be who he says he is. To complicate matters, his reaction towards Beatrice Corning, niece of the present Earl who resides at his home is one that he does not particularly need or want. However, life has a way throwing the unexpected along your way, and even though Reynaud might not want the added complication, it is one that tempts him on every level.

While the accounts of what Reynaud had gone through made for interesting reading, the rest of the story pretty much did fall flat. I keep trying to put my finger on exactly what went wrong, and yet I cannot. Perhaps it is a mix of factors that led to the whole thing. Either way, this would have to be my least favorite book by Hoyt.

Recommended for fans of the series.

Favorite Quotes

Then he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Are you sure?”
And that small bit of tenderness decided her. “Yes.”
He wasn’t gentle. He didn’t try to go slowly. He thrust himself inside her, quickly and violently, and her entire body arched with the pain. Burning. Tearing. Something wasn’t right.
She pressed her palms against his chest. “No.”
He looked down at her, his face drawn, the tattooed birds flying about his eye, wild and savage, and he no longer looked tender. He looked like a conqueror. “Too late. You’re mine now.”

He pushed the odd thought aside as he shoved the rest of his length into her. He grasped the headboard on either side of her arms and enclosed her within his embrace. She shivered, and somehow that little movement was the final straw. He began thrusting, hard and fast, the feel of her slippery flesh around him, holding him so tightly, sending him completely out of control. She arched her hips, pushing back at him, and he leaned forward, biting her nape to keep her steady. She gave a cry, high and helpless, and then her cunny was flexing about him, milking his cock as she came.

Purchase Links: Amazon | Kobo | eBookMall | iTunes

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: The Senator’s Wife by Karen Robards

Format: E-bookthesenatorswife
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Dell
Hero: Thomas S. Quinlan
Heroine: Veronica Honneker
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: January 12, 1998
Started On: August 23, 2016
Finished On: August 24, 2016

Karen Robards is an author I have good memories of even though I don’t read her as often now as I used to. Some of her books like Wild Orchids has been in my favorite shelf since forever, books that I continue to revisit every now and then because of the sheer pleasure they bring to me. The Senator’s Wife is a novel that might not be very well received by readers of the genre. Looking at the ratings on Goodreads, it is fair to say that it is pretty much true. Published in 1998, Karen Robards puts together a heroine who is married, a hero who would rather not mix business with pleasure and gives a combustible story that contains elements of suspense to it that I absolutely reveled in.

Veronica Honneker (Ronnie) grew up dreaming of a better life. A life where she would not have to worry about money and putting food on the table. She had basically modeled her life to reach that goal. And in becoming a senator’s wife, she basically clinched the deal and shouldn’t have been feeling like an empty shell wondering whether the price she had paid to get where she was had become too high. Someone who has to put up a strong wall of pretense just to get through every single day on the campaign trail to get her husband re-elected is not the life she had in fact envisioned for herself.

Then comes Thomas S. Quinlan to polish up her image, to help get the Senator re-elected. With Tom’s reputation on the line, he can hardly believe it when he starts seeing Ronnie in a light that others seldom see. The way she tempts him to take a walk on the wild side, everything else be damned, is a feeling he certainly does not like or particularly want. But fate has a way of bringing these two together time and yet again, and though Tom might despise himself for lusting after the wife of another man, it is a losing battle that he wages with his inner caveman when it comes to Ronnie.

At first, Ronnie for me was a difficult character to love. She came off as vain, selfish and more interested in materialistic benefits that are to be had in the world. But then, as the story progressed, she started to change, subtly and then more visibly, until I grew to love her as much as I did Tom right from the very start. Tom is a hero who is earthily sexy in a way that few heroes of recent times tend to be. Men depicted as they should be perhaps, what I miss dearly in most romances of today. 

Most readers would definitely not like this story because of the aspects of adultery involved in the novel. But then, I believe that that is life for you. Sometimes your happily ever after starts and evolves from a messy tangle that you think would never sort itself out. It is a hard and treacherous road that one takes. But sometimes, it does give one the happily ever after they would never have had otherwise. Of course, circumstances has to be right for readers to be able to muster up sympathy for the character. I believe that Karen Robards did justice to Ronnie’s character by not painting her in such a light – I liked the story better this way.

Definitely recommended for those that love unconventional stories!

Final Verdict: Unconventional in the emotions it elicits, The Senator’s Wife makes for a compulsive page-turner!

Favorite Quotes

For a moment he just stood there, unmoving, while her hand slid behind his neck and her mouth coaxed his. She watched his reaction from beneath lowered lids. His eyes were open and fixed on her face. When her tongue slid between his closed lips, he stiffened. She could sense resistance in every hard line of his body; she worked her fingers down inside his shirt collar at the back of his neck, caressing his warm skin. At the same time, she drew his lower lip into her mouth and bit down.
Dark color suffused his face. He made an inarticulate sound. Then his lids shut, his mouth opened, and the hand that held hers prisoner between their bodies released its grip to slide around her waist. He took control of the kiss with a thoroughness that dazzled her.

“God, I’ve wanted this,” he said in a low, hoarse voice. Then he was yanking her panties down her legs and rolling on top of her and kissing her with quick, savage movements that told her that he, too, had reached the limits of his control. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he slid between her thighs, so ready for him that she thought she would die if she had to wait another second.
He thrust inside her, huge and hot and hard, driving deep and fast over and over again until she was mindless, crying out at the wonder of it, gouging his back with her nails until at last she came with an intensity that she had never dreamed she was capable of, her preconceived notions of herself and the world shattering into a million pieces as she cried out his name.

Without another word he picked her up and carried her to the bed.
His lovemaking was hard and furious, nothing like the previous times. He demanded and she gave, entering her almost immediately, almost forcing her to a response that was shattering in its intensity. He set the pace, taking what he wanted, manipulating her expertly until she could do nothing but writhe and cling and cry out his name.
The end, when it came, was explosive.
Then he started up again.

She didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Her hands were urgent, tugging at his snap, pulling down his zipper, reaching inside his boxers until his member was free. He was huge and hot and pulsing and alive, and she took him in her mouth, cupping the vulnerable softness beneath with tender care. She kissed and suckled and nibbled and bit until every breath he took sounded like a groan.
Then his hands clenched in her hair. He pulled her mouth off him, yanked off his jeans, and dropped down on his knees in front of her. He pushed her onto her back in a glowing patch of moonlight, pulling her nightgown up and off as he did so. Lying on top of her, pulling her legs around his waist, he came into her hard.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Lover Revealed by J.R. Ward

Format: E-bookloverrevealed
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Series: Black Dagger Brotherhood, #4
Publisher: Onyx
Hero: Butch O’Neal
Heroine: Marissa
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: April 20, 2007
Started On: August 21, 2016
Finished On: August 22, 2016

“You are the male I want to mate with. That’s who you are.”

Lover Revealed is the fourth book in the mind blowing Black Dagger Brotherhood series by J. R. Ward. It tells the story of Butch O’Neal, who is drawn into the realms of the lives of the Brotherhood during the first book of the series. Butch who had been a homicide detective had gotten fired for police brutality and since then become part of the Brotherhood’s fight against the Lessening Society that lives to kill vampires. Butch also has a crush of the size of Mount Everest on Marissa; stating his feelings towards Marissa, a daughter of the aristocratic lineage is putting it mildly. However, having got the impression that Marissa really does not want much to do with him has made Butch decide to make peace with it, which does not mean that he still does not want her in a big way.

When Butch’s life is changed in a way he never thought possible, well, no one thought possible, Butch becomes a weapon against the fight being waged between Lessers and the vampires. While Marissa finds herself chafing more and more at the restrictions that are imposed on her as an unmated vampire of the purest of blood, everything comes to a breaking point eventually which finds Marissa going towards the one man who has always made her feel more than living life in the status of a porcelain doll to be coveted and never touched. In Butch’s arms, Marissa finds herself experiencing what never thought possible, but on her terms.

Which brings me to why I was not so enamored by either Butch of Marissa in the story. I found Marissa to be a bit too unsure of her needs and wants when it comes to Butch. I understood the baggage that she carries with her, having being considered sort of an outcast by her own brethren, not to mention her asshat of a brother who made her believe herself to be less of a woman all because. Wrath was also partly to blame in my opinion, but of course Beth and the way she treated the whole thing later on went a long way towards making things better. However, that did not redeem Wrath’s role in it to my satisfaction.

I liked Butch. I wanted to love him. Perhaps a small corner of my heart does. But the way Butch tried to change and conform into something or rather everything that Marissa wanted from him was a bit hard to take in. Yes, I know that Butch having the vampire blood coursing through him makes it so, makes him react so. But the way he wanted to put his very life on the line for a woman who oscillates between wanting to be with him to being unsure of it in the next second was just irksome. 

Butch’s conformation in the bedroom was also partly the problem. A robust man with heady sexual appetites having to handle Marissa with kid gloves because she’s the beautiful, perfect and serene aristocrat was a bit too much. I understood that Marissa comes from a line of people where no one talks about the wilder side of sex etc. but the whole thing just irked me in a way. There is also the way Marissa let Butch be hurt into thinking that he was defective in some way as to not being able to give her pleasure, even when he had shown her otherwise in previous encounters was something that did not win any points in her favor.

That brings me to my reaction to the series thus far. By the fourth book in the series one would think that the King having ascended to the throne would have at least started on some programs to bring together his race and actually work towards making a difference in steering their kind to lives better lived. Lives that would reverse the dwindling numbers and give them a fighting chance with the lessers. I know that this story takes place just six months down the line, but I would have thought that at least some plans would have materialized somewhere along the way towards it. Apart from fire fighting in the sense in their war against the lessers, that also with no concrete plan to change their modus operandi apart from going out every night to hunt and kill, there seems to be a lack of coordinated effort in the Brotherhood which does not seem to bode well for the future.

All through the book, my fascination was focused on Rehvenge as a character. Now there is a vampire whose story I want to climb into.

Though with everything that did not work for me in the story, it is still a crucial addition to the series that adds value to the novels that are yet to come.

Final Verdict: Compelling enough to keep the pages turning. Recommended!

Favorite Quotes

“Who are you, then?”
“No one you’d ever know. Even if I were a vampire, our paths would never cross. I’m a blue-collar kind of guy.” At her look of confusion, he said, “Lower-class.”
His tone was factual, as if he were reciting his height or weight.
“I don’t think of you as lower-class, Butch.”
“Like I said, you don’t really know me.”
“When I lie this close to you, when I smell your scent, when I hear your voice, I know everything that matters.” She looked down the length of him. “You are the male I want to mate with. That’s who you are.”

Her hips tilted up sharply. “Butch…”
“That’s it. Come for me.”
“I can’t… I can’t…” She shook her head back and forth, getting trapped between what her body wanted and what her mind was having trouble assimilating. She was going to lose the momentum unless he did something fast.
Without even thinking or knowing why it would help, he buried his face in her throat and bit her, right over her jugular. That was what did it. She cried out his name and started convulsing, her hips jerking, her body flexing all along her spine. With profound joy, he helped her ride the orgasm’s pulses and he talked to her the whole time—although God only knew what he was saying.

He bit her palm. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”
“I…” Her body undulated on the bed.
“Tell me you want me.” He nailed her harder with his teeth. Shit, he wasn’t sure why he needed to hear it from her so badly, but he did. “Say it.”
“I want you,” she gasped.
From out of nowhere, a dangerous, greedy lust slapped hold of him and his control shattered. With a dark sound that came from his gut, he clamped his hands on the insides of her thighs, split her wide and literally dove between her legs.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Her Dad’s Friend by Penny Wylder’s

Format: E-bookherdadsfriend
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novella
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Paul
Heroine: Rachael Holt
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: August 13, 2016
Started On: August 20, 2016
Finished On: August 21, 2016

“Not a single consequence occurs to me as I type out five little words. I want to fuck you.”

Her Dad’s Friend was my first experience of books by Penny Wylder and I believe that I liked what I read well enough to give other books by her a whirl. A taboo topic definitely, Her Dad’s Friend has the heroine Rachael Holt in love with none other than Paul, her father’s best friend since the beginning. Written in first person from Rachael’s point of view, the story is short, yet has enough emotional depth to it to make it one worth delving into if you are looking for something short and low on intensity. I needed this after reading so many Hoyt novels that had wrung me dry. So it worked well for me when I picked it up when I did.

From the bits and pieces that are revealed along the way emerges the picture where Paul has been a big part of Rachael’s life since she was a child. Rachael having fallen in love with Paul since she knew what that entailed, had been left with question marks in the wake of Paul shutting down his business and leaving town two years back. So on the eve of her 21st birthday, in a drunken stupor, Rachael does the stupidest thing she has done ever – drunk text Paul to reveal the depth of her need for him.

What follows is sexy in a way that makes your toes curl and your senses hum. Just the right touch of sensitivity is in place so that the story does not come off as a turn off. Of course, Paul being as hot as sin, having the patience and knowledge to show Rachael what being in bed with a mature man is like also helped take things a long way. But like many readers who have sampled this book, I also found that the issues that should have arisen from the taboo nature of their relationship were resolved far too quickly. Perhaps owing to the fact that both Paul and Rachael pretty much were in love with one another and willing to do whatever it takes to take that love somewhere gave it the justification needed. So in the end, I reconciled with that fact and loved the story for what it was.

Recommended!

Final Verdict: Penny Wylder takes a taboo trope & gives readers a well balanced tale of love and sinfully dirty sex!

Favorite Quotes

“Sorry,” I say, squeezing past him. “I need to get a glass.”
When he tries to maneuver out of my way, stepping behind me, I press my backside against his groin, pinning him against the fridge.
“Rachael,” he says, voice low and cautious. “We can’t.” There’s no conviction behind his words.
He puts his hands on my hips as if to push me away, but makes no attempt at stopping me as I arch my back and begin rolling my hips, cradling his growing cock in the cleft of my ass.
He groans and leans forward to press his lips against my neck. “We shouldn’t,” he says this time.
Can’t and shouldn’t are two very different things.

“Your skin is so soft.” His low voice is just above a whisper. He kisses the corner of my mouth. “And you taste so good.” The way his lips just barely graze mine sends chills through me. We’re hardly touching and yet I feel him in every part of me. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how wet you got the night of your birthday. You smelled so sweet on my fingers. I’m dying to taste you.”
His words and the slow, sensuality of his voice opens a faucet inside of me and soaks my panties. It’s as if his words are a spell and he’s conjuring it out of me. I can’t take it anymore. Reaching up, I grab the sides of his face and push my lips against him. His mouth is so much bigger than mine and he’s forceful and demanding when he kisses me back. Though I’m no delicate flower, I feel dwarfed beneath him. Knowing that he can take whatever he wants from me, fold me in any which way he chooses, has me all kinds of wet.

The heady scent of sex fills the room, pushing me to the brink. My second orgasm rips through me with hurricane force. As my muscles start to contract around his width, Paul lets out a primal roar and unleashes his warm seed inside of me. We stay that way, locked together for several minutes as we come down. We’re breathing heavily. He’s draped over my back, kissing my spine, and then we collapse. He cradles me in a spooning position. I’m glad he can’t see the ridiculous smile I feel stretching my face.
He strokes my hair with his fingers, untangling the sweaty strands. “That was amazing,” he says.
I turn over to face him. His eyes are hooded, face groggy. “It was more than amazing.”

Purchase Links: Amazon

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: To Beguile a Beast by Elizabeth Hoyt

Format: E-booktobeguileabeast
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Legend of the Four Soldiers, #3
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Alistair Michael Munroe
Heroine: Helen Fitzwilliam
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: May 1, 2009
Started On: August 18, 2016
Finished On: August 20, 2016

To Beguile a Beast, the third book in the Legend of the Four Soldiers begins right where To Seduce a Sinner ends. The foundation for the story being laid out towards the end of book 2. This story brings together two unlikely protagonists, Helen Fitzwilliam, the mistress to the very powerful Duke of Lister who had borne him two children, and Sir Alistair Michael Munroe, who lives in Scotland, deep within the ruins of the glory that his home had once been. With his dog Lady Grey as his only companion, Alistair has made it a habit to stay away from limelight and seeking out company because his grotesque scars tended to scare people off or make him feel uncomfortable about it.

When Helen turns up with her two children on Alistair’s doorstep, the only thing that stops him from sending them right off is the letter that Helen carries with her which comes from Lady Vale herself. Helen is equally determined that her attempts to flee from the life that had bound her to the Duke as his personal property would not be in vain, for she knows what lies at stake if the Duke were to hunt her down. Back home, the man in question burns with anger, all because the mere daughter of a physician should try and escape him, and there was no way she would not pay for what she has done. And thus begins the hunt that would bring them back home to him, where they rightfully belong.

From being a mistress whose material comforts had always been seen to, Helen goes into uncharted waters for her, working and trying to restore Alistair’s home to some sort of normalcy so that she could make a home for her kids. All of that does not stop Helen from becoming interested in the man that Alistair is, a naturalist who spends his days locked up in the tower that makes up his office, working the daylight hours away, meticulously recording his findings for his second book. Though Alistair of late has not been having much success in the writing department, he holes himself up in the tower all because he wants to stay away from the temptation that Helen presents, a woman who looks at him and sees him for who he is rather than what the rest of the world sees when they gaze upon him.

None of that stops from the desire that unfurls between them from exploding until they both give in. Not even Alistair’s taciturn nature that does its earnest most to keep the family from invading his heart. Helen unsure of the way she makes Alistair feel is nevertheless enraptured by the way she feels about him, every kiss and caress taking them both into a place none has ever been before. While Alistair is careful that he keeps her at a certain emotional distance, it doesn’t stop him from wanting things that he knows someone like him shouldn’t. Scarred not only on the outside but on the inside as well, Alistair had been a casualty of an attack that had not spared the civilian he had been in the group, and he bears the scars of that encounter right in his very soul.

From start to finish, Alistair had my heart. His playful nature in bed just brought out a devilish side of him that I found irresistible. Helen’s gentle firmness when it came to Alistair proved to be his undoing, for which I was so very glad. The quest for the truth of who had betrayed the regiment with whom Alistair had been when the attack had occurred continues in this book as well, of course without reaching its ultimate conclusion.

Loved it all, the broken bits the most!

Final Verdict: Captivates you in a way that leaves you breathless with wanting!

Favorite Quotes

“I’m sorry,” Helen began.
But without saying a word—without any warning at all, in fact—he yanked her against his chest and captured her mouth with his. A great involuntary shudder shook her frame. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been waiting for this, unconsciously anticipating when he’d make his next move. Her breasts were mashed against the hard plane of his chest, and his hands grasped her arms as his mouth moved with fierce determination on hers. Oh, it was lovely.
So lovely.
She tilted her head, melting against him like warm custard over apple pie.

Then her stays were off, and he drew her shift down her shoulders until she was bared to the waist.
He simply stared.
She raised her hand without thought, instinctively moving to cover herself.
He caught her wrist and drew it to her lap. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Let me look at you.”
She closed her eyes then, because she could no longer bear the sight of his gaze taking her in.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “Beautiful enough to drive a man insane.”

She broke the kiss and said breathlessly, “I don’t—”
“Shh,” he murmured. He nibbled at the corner of her mouth. “It’s simple biology, really. I am made for inserting myself in you. You are made for receiving me. Thusly.”
“But—”
He thrust, the crown of his penis parting her folds, opening and stretching her. Her eyes flew wide open.
He was watching her with a demonic gleam in his eye. He smiled slightly and thrust again. She felt him invading her, entering her.
“You see?” he purred. “So simple.”

And then another wave hit, catching her by complete surprise and tossing her high, sailing on a crest of pure, exquisite pleasure. And at its peak she looked down and saw him, thrusting still faster into her, his broad shoulders bunched and tensed, his hairline gleaming with exertion. He arched back his head and shouted. And then he went still, trembling and jerking within her, his face gone curiously smooth.
She didn’t recognize the expression on his face at first, and then she realized: it was peace.

For long, passionate minutes, he licked and sucked and bit at her nipples until they were swollen, red, and glistening with his saliva. She moved agitatedly beneath him, entirely aroused yet unable to fulfill quite yet.
He reared up over her and studied what he’d done to her. His high cheekbones had a flush across them, his eyelid drooped lazily, and his lips were reddened from his ministrations yet were held in an almost cruel line.
“You look like a pagan sacrifice,” he growled low. “Prepared and laid out for some god to”—he leaned close and whispered in her ear—“fuck.”

“You,” she panted half-hysterically, “are a devil.”
He grinned almost boyishly. “Am I?”
“Ye-sss.” Her assent ended in a moan because he’d shifted suddenly, bringing his penis in direct contact with her drenched folds. “Oh.”
“You like that?” he inquired solicitously.
She could only nod as he slowly drew himself through her. He thrust with a small, controlled movement, his cock tunneling against her. She swallowed, not even caring about the wet, squishing sounds they made.
“Then,” he purred, “perhaps you are ready. For this.”
And he reared back and shoved himself full-length inside her. She arched her neck at the shock, the thrill, of being filled so suddenly.

And somewhere—sometime—during all this, she heard him growl and opened her eyes. He was on straight arms, levered above her, watching her as he made love to her. But now there was no way to mistake his expression for disinterest. Now his upper lip curled back in an erotic sneer. Now his face shone with effort and sweat. Now his one eye gleamed with dark intent.
Masculine intent.
As she watched, he speeded his thrusts until the bed thumped against the wall. She spread her legs farther and wrapped them high over his hips, watching his struggle until his face twisted as if in agony. A cry ripped from his throat, and he jerked against her one last time.
And she felt his strength fill her with warmth.

And he slid the halved lemon slowly into her.
She gasped at the sensation. The cold citrus, his warm fingers. He twisted inside her, did something, and then withdrew his fingers, leaving the lemon inside.
“There are those who doubt that a woman feels any sensation at all when stimulated here.” He drew his finger up through her folds again until he tapped once more on her clitoris. “I think they are mad, of course, but a scientist always tests his theories. Shall we see?”
See what? Helen thought, but had no time to say, because before she could speak, his mouth had replaced his finger, and she had no way of speaking after that.
All she could do was feel.

She turned her head and licked at his jaw.
He froze. “Don’t—”
This time she carefully tested her teeth against his skin. No matter how casual his words, he was on a razor’s edge—she could tell by how stiffly he held his body—and a wicked part of her wanted to send him over that edge. Wanted to drive him to the brink of insanity.
She scratched her nails down his back.
“Helen,” he rasped, “that isn’t wise.”
“But I don’t want to be wise,” she whispered back.
That did it. Whatever thread that had held him snapped. He lunged, driving his length into her softness, pummeling her, thrusting into her, panting and uncivilized.

“Enough,” he snapped.
He tore at her laces, ripping her bodice from her and flinging it halfway across the room.
“Enough playing. Enough cock teasing. Enough drawing this out.”
He pulled her skirts from her and flipped her before she had time to react. He pushed and pulled her until she was on her knees, braced on her elbows, and threw up the skirt of her chemise. He entered her from behind without warning, and she gasped.
Hot and hard. Long and full.

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: To Seduce a Sinner by Elizabeth Hoyt

Format: E-booktoseduceasinner
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Legend of the Four Soldiers, #2
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Jasper Renshaw
Heroine: Melisande Fleming
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: November 1, 2008
Started On: August 15, 2016
Finished On: August 18, 2016

It is quite the impossible feat to finish reading To Taste Temptation, the 1st book in the Legend of the Four Soldiers series and not be intrigued by Emeline’s best friend Melisande Fleming. It is also fair to say that pairing Emeline’s best friend with the man she had been engaged to marry before she had met her happily ever after, the man being Jasper Renshaw, Viscount Vale was another reason that I was so quick in picking this up to read. Melisande’s character intrigued me for the front she puts up, the stoic and reasonable woman behind which I knew lay a heart that wants what most of us do. Someone to love, someone who returns that love tenfold and make you glad and giddy that it is so.

Even though popular with the ladies all over the ton, Vale seems to have run into quite the fix when it comes to acquiring his own bride. After being jilted for the second time, it is Melisande who comes to his rescue and offers her hand in marriage to him, surprising and intriguing him at the same time. While Vale makes it quite clear to Melisande that he is looking for a proper marriage, one where he gets bedding rights with his wife, Melisande agrees to everything and more. After all, she has loved Vale from afar for six long years and he needs not know her reasons for wanting him as her own.

Melisande is described as a plain woman. Someone who pretty much no man, especially one like Vale would notice in his attempts to woo and seduce ladies. It is Vale’s coping mechanism. Being surrounded by people, parties, laughter and joviality while on the inside he is reeling from the effect the tragedy at Spinner’s Falls had left on him. Being responsible for the regiment that had been attacked by Indians, the nightmares never leave him, especially at night when they come home to roost in his subconscious. Vale keeps that fact close to his heart, until Melisande breaks down the barriers he has put up, both physical and mental, until she takes him for everything he is.

Vale’s intrigue when it comes to the woman he married increases by the day. The sharp contrast between the woman who does not show much emotion during the day and fulfills every dirty and wanton need of his at night is a woman that needed to be unraveled. Vale is relentless in his pursuit of the secrets that Melisande hides behind. To find out what makes her tick. To find out what she wants. And most of all, why she offered her hand in marriage to him. A secret that Melisande guards as selfishly as Vale does that of his nightmares.

Along with the seduction and wooing of his wife that he pursuits with a vengeance, Vale continues his quest for the truth behind what happened at Spinner’s Falls. To find out the man that had betrayed his regiment and left them all at the torturous mercy of Indians who had practically annihilated them. Vale’s character is one you grow to love as the story goes on. The man behind the mask that he puts on at social gatherings is a man worthy of everything Melisande has to give and more. The fact that he never acknowledged Melisande’s existence before she had come up to him with the proposition does not deter him from seeing her from then on. Really seeing through to her and finding a woman who completes him in every single way possible. A woman he needs in every single way there is.

The emotional wallop behind the story suckerpunches you square in the gut right after the marriage. The emotions that coursed through me as I witnessed both Melisande and Vale at once fight the losing battle between them towards claiming each other as their own was one that I absolutely loved! The scene where Vale draws out Melisande’s secrets, one kiss at a time, one heady caress at a time was purely hedonistic, and I could not have asked for more!

Beautifully crafted, as always! Kudos to Hoyt, the master of the genre!

Recommended!

Final Verdict: Sinfully hot and just as exquisite! Hoyt’s name resounds all over the genre for a reason!

Favorite Quotes

“Why are you doing this?”
“What?” he asked idly. He brushed the rose against her cheek, the softness of the petals sending a shudder down her spine.
She caught his hand, hard and warm beneath her fingertips. “This. You act as if you’re wooing me.”
“Do I?” He was very still, his lips only inches from hers.
“I’m already your wife. There’s no need to woo me,” she whispered, and couldn’t keep the plea from her voice.
He moved his hand easily, though she still had her fingers wrapped about his. The rose drifted across her parted lips.
“Oh, I think there’s every need,” he said.

“Do you mind?” she asked.
She was gratified that he had to clear his throat. “Not at all.”
She nodded and raised the hem of her chemise to her hips before climbing into the chair. She straddled his lap carefully and let the chemise fall. Then she sat. For a moment, all she could do was savor the heat of his thighs against her bottom. She could feel his body hair tickling her most intimate parts.
Then she smiled and wove her arms about his neck. “Will you kiss me?”
“God, yes,” he growled.

She raised up on her knees and pushed against his cock. She was panting now. He watched her and brought his thumbs and forefingers together, pinching her nipples. She gasped and arched her back, but his cock slid to one side. Frantically, she reached between them to hold his slippery length steady. She ground against him. She could feel her folds, swollen beneath her fingers. She imagined her sex, crimson and wet, flowering against his cock. She rubbed the head of his penis against her clitoris, biting her lips, striving, struggling toward that goal.
Then he leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his hot, humid mouth, and she went over the cliff. Rushing, panting, she shattered in space.

She grabbed his broad shoulders and hung on. Her legs were wide, her breasts jiggling, and her mouth was open against his face, kissing, licking, biting. And all the while, his cock plundered her. Leaping. Demanding. Plunging.
Until all his muscles tightened at once. He shook his head, his teeth clenched, his body rigid, and she felt the hot wash of his seed into her body. He jerked once. Again. Then exhaled as if all the air was leaving his body at once.

 He jackknifed up and flipped her beneath him. And then he was looming large and menacing over her, his face dark as he growled, “Do you think me a plaything, my lady?”
She opened her legs wide, planted her feet, and arched her hips off the bed. She rubbed her sex against his length, watching as his eyelids fell in reaction.
“Perhaps I do,” she whispered. “Perhaps your cock is my favorite toy. Perhaps I want my toy in my—”
But he thrust fast and hard, making her lose her words on a gasp of pleasure.
“Wanton,” he gritted. “My wanton.”

“I have watched you,” she panted, “for years. I’ve seen you look at women—vapid, pretty women. I’ve seen you choose which ones you wanted. I’ve seen you stalk them, woo them, and seduce them. And I’ve seen when you grew tired of them, when your eyes would start to wander again.”
He tore at the laces to her bodice, loosening and pulling aside the fabric of her dress and stays until he reached her bare nipple. He palmed one breast and drew the other into his mouth, sucking strongly.
She cried out.
He lifted his head. “Tell me.”

“I watched you for years,” she whispered. The tears were drying on her cheeks, and heat was building within her. If he would just touch her. Touch her there. “I watched you and you never saw me.”
“I see you now,” he said, licking around a nipple. He trailed his tongue across her breast and to the other breast, circling the nipple there. Delicately. Tenderly.
Damn him.
“You didn’t even know my name.”
“I know it now.” He tested her flesh with his teeth.
Pleasure mixed with pain shot through her, straight from her nipple to where his hand still played. She arched, silently begging, and he relented, sucking the nipple strongly into his mouth.
“You . . .” She swallowed, trying to focus her thoughts. “You didn’t know I existed.”
“I do now.”

He stopped suddenly, and she opened her eyes. His head was thrown back, his eyes blind, pleasure convulsing his face.
“Melisande!” he cried.
His head thumped to the pillow beside hers, his lungs sucking air. He was heavy and hard, and her arms were still drawn over her head. It didn’t matter. She’d gladly suffocate here underneath him. She turned her face toward him and licked the ear she’d earlier bloodied, and she finally said it. She gave him what he wanted.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you. That’s why I married you.”

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: To Taste Temptation by Elizabeth Hoyt

Format: E-booktotastetemptation
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Legend of the Four Soldiers, #1
Publisher: Forever
Hero: Samuel Hartley
Heroine: Emeline Gordon
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: May 1, 2008
Started On: July 23, 2016
Finished On: August 15, 2016

Though the cover on this book leaves much to be desired, the first book in the Legend of the Four Soldiers is one that delivers on all fronts. After a failed attempt at picking up a historical romance from another author, I just couldn’t wait to erase that memory from my mind, which had me returning to Hoyt, an author that has never failed me up till this point. A tall order, I know. She might even have replaced classical favorites like Judith McNaught and Julie Garwood themselves, all because of the way Hoyt crafts her stories that leaves me begging for more.

Legend of the Four Soldiers is centered around four soldiers who returns from war and a terrible incident that marks them forever. Battling with PTSD and worse, these are the stories of the happily ever afters these four soldiers find for themselves. In the midst of each story, true to Hoyt’s trademark, there is an element of mystery happening which makes the book that much more of a page-turner. Each soldier chooses a different path to travel to their ultimate destinations, and in doing so Hoyt once again finds a common theme between the enchanting fairy tale that she begins each chapter with and the actual story that unfolds. That is just one more reason why Hoyt has carved a notch for herself in a genre that is redundantly often overdone with stories that are taxing to read. 

Mr. Samuel Hartley the hero is not from London society, rather he is a businessman from Boston, one of the soldiers that comes seeking Lady Emeline Gordon on the pretense of hiring her services for his sister. But Samuel in reality is seeking the truth of what happened in Spinner’s Falls, to find out who it is that had betrayed their regiment in such an abominable manner. Emeline meanwhile comes off as snobbish and standoffish from the first moment Samuel seeks her out. Perhaps the reason being that Samuel triggers feelings inside of her that she had forcibly buried, never to resurrect, ever since the death of her husband. The scars that have been leftover from the death runs deep, something readers only come to know as the story progresses towards its pivotal moments.

Samuel comes off as someone rather average at first, a harmless soul if ever there was one. Hoyt created a mesmerizing character out of Samuel by revealing his true self as a man who is driven by desire of the kind he cannot control, an alpha man to boot, not willing to take no from the woman who holds his desires captive. Emeline would give just about anything to turn away from Samuel, but she finds herself in a vicious cycle of need that refuses to be denied, a need that sees her getting into one clandestine position after another with Samuel. 

Though the story was a tad slow at the beginning, once things started heating up, I could barely breathe from the anticipation that was coursing through me. I always love the fact that Hoyt never shortchanges readers on the scenes of passion that she so artfully crafts into her novels. They are gems to be treasured. Every single one of them. The way the passion between Samuel and Emeline exploded onto the pages was just as beautifully done. It was dirty, raw, explicit, momentous and beautifully wondrous at the same time. Every scene brings forth the tightly reined in passions of two people who are so well suited for each other, but one or the other is too blind to see it, or refuses to in this case. The number of quotes included in this review attests to what I am talking about.

Samuel’s stubbornly unyielding attempts at winning Emeline over mesmerized me just as much as the scenes of passion did, knowing that to win the heart of someone such as Emeline so well entrenched within the customs of the elite of society would find it hard to break out of the safe existence she had carved out for herself.

Absolutely breathtaking, the fairy tale as well as the story of the love that unfurls between Emeline and Samuel! No two ways about it. Recommended!

Final Verdict: A feast for all your senses; heart, mind, body & soul!

Favorite Quotes

She inhaled deeply and sat back, her face entirely hidden by shadows now. “What difference does it make to you if I do find your affairs to be of interest, Mr. Hartley?”
He smiled wryly. “Touché, my lady. I’m sure a sophisticated gentleman of your society would deny it to his death if he was moved by your interest, but I am made of simpler stuff.”
“Are you?” The words were whispered in the dark.
He nodded slowly. “So I tell you: I am moved by your interest. I am moved by you.”
“You are frank.”
“Can you admit the same?”

“Yes, that’s what I want. A civilized man. An Englishman who knows the rules of society, an aristocrat to help me with my son and my lands. We are perfectly suited, Jasper and I. We are as alike as two peas in a pod.”
She saw the hurt in his eyes. It was very subtle, few other people, perhaps no other person, would understand it, but she saw and comprehended. She was hurting him.
So she drove the knife home. “We will be married soon, and I will be very, very happy—”
“Goddamn you,” he growled, and then he kissed her.

She was panting, almost crying, her mouth working under his, their teeth scraping against each other inelegantly. There was no finesse, no pretty caress in their kiss. This was a display of lust and anger.
She could smell his skin. He wore no powder or pomades or perfume, it was purely him, and she was driven mad by his scent. She wanted to tear the coat from his shoulders, rip off his shirt and neckcloth and bury her nose in his naked neck.

“Samuel,” she moaned.
“Hush,” he muttered.
He was urging her legs apart, and one part of her mind was thinking that his position relative to hers did not put her in the most attractive angle. Then she forgot any doubts, for he was running his thumb along her crease.
“You’re wet,” he said, his voice deep and dark with male satisfaction.
She lifted her head from the wall and almost pulled away at that. How dare he take her for granted?
But he tilted her hips and then…
Oh, God! And then he licked her.

He swore suddenly, and then he caught her against himself, her bare back pressed to his waistcoat as his cock buried itself in her and began to spurt. It was an odd angle—and erotic—her feet on tiptoe, her legs wide apart, her breasts and belly bare and displayed, impaled on his cock. She heard him groan and reveled in his loss of control. He worked insistently at her bud, splaying his hand possessively over her cunny as he came inside her.
And then she did scream. Waves of almost painful pleasure coursed through her as she convulsed on his cock. He placed his hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, and she bit him, relishing the taste of his skin on her tongue.
Behind her, he caught his breath. “Little cat.”

“I may not be fully aware of all the niceties of your society, but I think that you won’t want that.”
Her mouth had fallen open during this arrogant speech, but now as he turned away, she found her voice. “How dare you presume—”
He caught her by the shoulders, making her indignant sentence end on a squeak. He bent his head and spoke fiercely into her ear. “I dare because you welcomed me into your body not a quarter of an hour ago. Your body rained your pleasure all over my cock, and I want that again.”
He covered her mouth. But this time his kiss wasn’t gentle or soft. It spoke of a man’s desire. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and angled his head so that his lips all but enveloped hers, and her silly body arched into him. She wanted this. She craved this. Intellect and reason fled her brain.

He lifted his head, but his gaze remained on her breasts. “I’ve been thinking of this all day—your nipples, bare to me and what I would do with them. I could hardly walk for the cockstand in my breeches.” His eyes flicked to hers, and she saw that his expression was almost angry. “That’s what you do to me—turn me into a mindless, hungering cock.”
She squirmed at the words, so crude and explicit.
His nostrils flared at her movement and she froze. “Hold them for me. Offer your breasts to me so I can suck them until you come.”

“Will this do?” he grunted.
She didn’t answer, lost in a sea of bliss.
He slammed into her and held still. “Will this do, my lady?”
Her eyes flew open and she glared at him. “Yes!” She clutched at his buttocks, trying to get him to move again. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Just move, damn you!”
And he complied, either chuckling or growling low in his throat; it was impossible to tell, because her eyes had fallen closed again.

She sobbed, helpless and angry, and more angry that she let her innermost feelings show. “Stop.”
He shook his head slowly, pressing into her again, his hard body causing hers to flower open, vulnerable to all the sensations he was making her feel. His eyelids dropped for a second as if he, too, were overwhelmed by what he did. Then he raised them and looked into her eyes. “No.”

He withdrew a fraction of his length, but she felt the friction as his cock pulled against her oversensitive flesh. Then he was bearing down again, grinding, grinding, grinding against her exposed clitoris, and she couldn’t stand it anymore.
She came apart, all the secrets, doubts, worries, and hopes that she had kept tightly bound to herself flying outward, free and unharnessed, exposed to the chill morning air and to him.
To him.
And she looked up in time to see him grit his teeth and tremble, undone as much as she, as he released his seed within her.

But he withdrew his hand from her suddenly, catching her about the waist and lifting and shoving so that her rump balanced precariously on a barrel. Then he was between her legs, and she opened her eyes to watch him frantically rip at his breeches.
“God!” It was a groan. He freed himself and thrust into her, huge and hot, in the same movement. “God!”
She sank her nails into the cloth covering his shoulders and hung on for dear life, wrapping her legs high over his hips. He jerked rapidly in her, thrusting again and again and again. Her orgasm had not fully crested and now it began anew on a higher, sweeter, almost painful note.

She tore at his coat, ripping it off his upper arm, and filled her mouth with clean linen and his shoulder. Her eyes closed in bliss as she bit him. She clung to him while his cock took his pleasure of her. He rode her hard, rode her until she wanted to scream, rode her until he grabbed the back of her head and kissed her, his mouth wide and gasping as he came, his great body shaking. She could feel the heat of his seed flooding within her. And she knew, even as she crested the wave herself, she knew.
This must be the last time.

He muttered something and released her nipple, catching her hips. He pumped into her in quick, powerful thrusts, grunting with each plunge, his cock hard and hot and long within her. His movements, his obvious desperation, prolonged her pleasure, and when she felt his warmth flood her, she was still in bliss. She fell against his heaving chest, his hand tangling in her hair, his breath rasping against her damp temple. She heard his whisper in her ear.”
“I love you.”

He wouldn’t forget her, his warm lady, even if he lived for six decades more. He knew that now, sitting by her cold fire. She would be with him all the days of his life. As he walked the streets of Boston, as he conducted his business or chatted with acquaintances, she would be the ghost beside him. She would sit with him as he ate, she would lie beside him as he slept. And he knew that when his time on this earth was at an end, his last thought as he entered the void would be of her.
The scent of lemon balm would haunt him forever.
So he sat a little longer, watching her sleep. All the days of the rest of his life stretched before him, and he needed to store up these few seconds with her.
They would have to last him a lifetime.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: My Fair Princess by Vanessa Kelly

Format: E-bookmyfairprincess
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: The Improper Princesses, #1
Publisher: Zebra
Hero: Charles Valentine Penley
Heroine: Gillian Dryden
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: August 30, 216
Started On: August 11, 2016
Finished On: August 12, 2016

Vanessa Kelly became an author that I liked to look out for whenever possible after reading her Renegade Royals series. Her stories had most of the essential ingredients that makes for a good historical romance. The Improper Princess seems to be a spinoff of the Renegade Royals, bringing to us as the debut book in the series, the story of Griffin Steele’s sister, and an illegitimate one to boot, Gillian Dryden.

Hellbent on seeking revenge, Gillian is on the hunt for the man who killed her stepfather. Her path crosses that of Charles Valentine Penley, the Sixth Duke of Leverton when her grandmother seeks his service in order to mold Gillian into a proper English lady who wouldn’t shock everyone with her improper attitude and brash nature as she is want to do. Charles though reluctant to get into the middle of something he knows would be more trouble than what’s worth, finally gets coerced into taking Gillian on, only to find himself properly intrigued by every facet of her character.

Overall, I found the story an okay read, and believe it could have been much much better. There was just too much talking between characters, dialogues that the book could have totally done away with, things that could have been brought to the readers in a different way. There is conversation and lively banter and then there is this. Plucking through all the elongated conversations was exhausting, and Gillian was the sort of heroine that just got on my nerves. Looking through some reviews up on Goodreads, I believe I am not the only one who feels that way about her.

Towards the ending, her behavior moved beyond the point of ridiculous and I just couldn’t muster up enough enthusiasm to be bothered anymore. Cumbersome to plod through at certain points, My Fair Princess made me realize just how exceptionally plotted books by authors such as Elizabeth Hoyt are when it comes to the genre. Vanessa Kelly is not a bad author. My Fair Princess just seems to be a bad egg in place of all the good books that have been published in the author’s name.

Recommended for fans of Vanessa Kelly.

Favorite Quotes

Gillian was now using her grip on his coat to pull herself up. She clamped one hand around the back of his neck to hold him steady as she kissed him back with an enthusiasm that almost sent his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
Good God.
For a girl who’d been tearing a strip off him just moments ago, she’d certainly gotten into the spirit of things, turning his mind to mush in the process. Her sweet lips wandered over him, teasing and tasting with dainty licks that felt like flickers of fire. When Gillian rubbed her gentle curves against him, Charles felt his knees start to buckle. Every point of contact between them heated to unbearable levels.

He was rewarded with the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Gillian, half-naked, her shirt pooled up around her shoulders as her body arched in a lithe curve, breasts pushed high, nipples flushed and full. Her eyes were closed, her expression fierce with passion as she approached her climax. She was so sweet, so bloody natural, hiding nothing of herself and ready to give him everything. Just looking at her made something inside him explode like a powder keg, almost knocking him flat. He’d never felt anything like it before.
Because she’s mine.

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