by mvbookreviewer

Review: Baiting the Maid of Honor by Tessa Bailey

Format: E-bookbaitingthemaidofhonor.jpg
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Wedding Dare, #2
Publisher: Entangled Publishing
Hero: Reed Lawson
Heroine: Julie Piper
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: June 9, 2014
Started On: September 28, 2015
Finished On: October 01, 2015

Baiting the Maid of Honor is book 2 in the Wedding Dare series. Written by Tessa Baily, my go to author for smut of the kind that delivers, and by delivers I mean truly she does; Baiting the Maid of Honor is a novel that had the classic Tessa Bailey in it. From a larger than life hero to a heroine you can root for, not to mention the out-of-this-world variety of scorching sex scenes, Baiting the Maid of Honor is a novel that delivers on many fronts.

Julie Piper is the type of person who defines people pleasing behavior, not in a bad way mind you. Julie is the kind that is enthusiastic over wedding planning, making people feel better, perhaps because there is a loneliness inside of her that people, those that are even closest to her don’t realize. When Julie encounters the big, bad and brazen Reed Lawson, the antithesis of everything that she looks for in a man, it is not just her hackles that are raised but her desire levels to be taken, possessed and taken yet again.

A SWAT commander by profession, Reed knows what its like to be looked down on as  bug that crawled from under a rock. It had never bothered him prior to this, thick skinned from growing up on the wrong side of the town. But when Julie looks at him that way, something inside of him wants to roar, the beast inside of him wanting to claim her as his and only his. The thought itself frightens him, the concept of being vulnerable to anyone, but even that doesn’t stop him from seeking Julie out, and the more he does, the more he falls for everything about her, not to mention the mind blowing variety of sex that they both have which keeps him coming back for more.

Four stories happen simultaneously in the Wedding Dare series. Julie’s story is one that is entwined with the other stories as well. I would love to pick up the novel written by Samanthe Beck, Best Man with Benefits. Perhaps one of these days I will. While Baiting the Maid of Honor worked for me on so many levels, I did wish that the backstories of the characters were a bit lengthier. I would have loved to see Julie deal with her family issues – those sounded deep and like ones that would tend to leave emotional scars of the kind that cannot be just shrugged off. However, maybe, the length of the novel didn’t actually give the time to indulge in those issues which definitely was a lacking factor for me.

The rest of the aspects of the story worked, and boy did they work well. A SWAT commander with tattoos over his over the top delicious bod was enough to make this reader go crazy! Reed’s take charge attitude was a definite turn on, not to mention the dirty talking he does, and oh so well. Julie, being the direct opposite to his roughness, feels like the tall and cool glass of water that soothes your parched throat on an especially humid day. She is that to Reed in more ways than one and I loved her for all of it. If there was anything that I would wish to change about the sex scenes, its the way Reed tends to call Julie “baby”. I think almost all of Tessa Bailey’s heroes have a tendency of doing that, and perhaps its just me, but it is kind of off putting.

Recommended for everyone who loves the good variety of smut with the emotional wallop!

Final Verdict: Hot enough to singe your sheets off. Tessa Bailey delivers dirty of one of a kind!

Favorite Quotes

“Help with what?” The sound of wind whispering through the trees nearly swallowed her husky question. “My hair?”
Damn. It hadn’t been his imagination. If she hadn’t turned tail and traipsed her way back inside by now, this instant attraction didn’t end with him. Was it possible a hot-to-trot sex kitten existed under that silk-and-pearls ensemble? Only one way to find out. Settling his hands on either side of her, he brought his body within inches of hers. “I don’t do hair, pixie,” he rasped against her ear. “Unless you’d like it pulled.”

“Aren’t you going to at least kiss me first?” No answer. “I’m not playing coy or anything, mind you…I just reckon, well, that it’s the decent, honest thing to do is all. Under the circumstances.”
He sighed loudly and she felt him rise to his feet. His larger frame crowded her against the door, fitting them together in a way that was blatantly indecent. She felt his arousal, thick at her belly. Her breasts flattened against his chest in a way that felt sinful and divine simultaneously. Warm breath puffed out against the top of her head.
“Kissed where?” His voice was a rough, almost inaudible whisper that bathed her in blistering heat. “Your mouth? Or the slick little pussy you’re hiding from me?”

“Both.” She swallowed hard, unable to keep the image of Reed at bay this time. His mouth. His tongue. She wanted them so bad it pained her. “Kiss me in both places.”
She felt a ripple of shock go through him, and her body answered it. With a loud groan, his mouth came down on hers, hard and punishing. He kissed her almost angrily, forcing her lips apart and sweeping his tongue inside in a way meant to provoke her. Incite her. Julie couldn’t get enough of his hard mouth moving like a brand over hers. She dug her fingers into the collar of his shirt and tugged him down as she pushed higher on her toes to meet him. They kissed furiously until breath ran scarce, pausing to draw air and bite at each other’s lips.

She squeezed his hips between her legs and rode out her orgasm, his hands digging into the flesh of her bottom to help her get as close as humanly possible while her hips bucked.
His hard mouth worked over hers, swallowing her strangled cries, growling and thrusting his tongue deep with each of her frantic movements. When she came down from her climax, breath racing in and out past her lips, she heard his muffled whisper at her ear. “Oh baby, I could have come, just like this. With your fuck-me thighs opened up wide for me on the door. Now?” He laughed darkly. “Nothing will satisfy me unless I taste all that heat first.”

“Would you like me to take off my pants now so you can really be impressed?”
His gruff question jolted Julie out of man-candy fantasyland and she dragged her gaze up from the large swell behind his fly, trying desperately to ignore the needy tightening in her belly. It enraged her that she could still feel desire for him after the stunt he’d pulled. “By all means, take the pants off. It’ll make it much easier when I castrate you.”
Julie ignored the fluttering in her chest when his full lips tilted at the ends, his amusement vanishing just as quickly. “Now that would be one hell of a shame.” He took a measured step in her direction. She refused to give up any ground when he stopped a breath away and dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, eyes tracking over her heaving breasts. “You were enjoying it so much a minute ago. When you rode it like you owned it.”

“Reed. I’m…I’m going to fall.”
“No. You will not fall. You will stay right there until I’m finished.” His thumb found the sensitive area again and smoothed over it, once, twice, as if coaxing it to life. Then he began to stroke it rapidly with the pad of his thumb. Julie couldn’t form a single thought as the orgasm came hurtling through her system, blasting her with such blissful heat she became unaware of anything but the place Reed made contact with her body. Her head fell forward as she rambled unintelligently, eyes blind as the area between her legs contracted and released over and over again. She felt his teeth sink into the flesh of her ass, then his tongue lick over the spot to soothe the sting.

With one powerful drive, Reed finally entered her. The pressure was so great, so delicious, that Julie bit her lip and screamed, hands scrambling for purchase on the wood bureau top. Through partially blind eyes, she looked up at Reed’s reflection to find an expression of undiluted pleasure on his face. But it quickly transformed into a need for more, as he wrapped her hair around his fist and jerked it back.
“You will never dance like that again. You will never hike your skirt up again. Never.” He pulled out slightly, then thrust back into her hard. “Not unless it’s for me. Is that understood?”
Julie cried out. “Yes.”

“Hiked your skirt up for me, is that right? Did you think you’d get away with that?”
“No.” Her chest shuddered. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
Julie leaned down and tried to kiss him, but he jerked back, wanting an explanation. She finally answered on a breath. “I didn’t want to get away with it.”
He groaned his pleasure. “That’s what I thought. Mine from the beginning.” Jerking the robe off her shoulders, Reed grasped her buttocks and sat her down on his erection, filling her to the hilt.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Bear Meets Girl by Shelly Laurenston

Format: E-bookbearmeetsgirl
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy Romance
Series: Pride, #7
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp
Hero: Lou “Crush” Crushek
Heroine: Marcella “Bare Knuckles” Malone
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: March 27, 2012
Started On: September 23, 2015
Finished On: September 27, 2015

Bear Meets Girl by Shelly Laurenston was a tough read for me to get into. There were those multiple conversation threads that I got lost in and the various characters that appeared out of nowhere which plunged me further into the abyss. I have read a lot of books midway into a series and still managed to get the gist of the characters involved without much of a problem. And those reads have at times even persuaded me to pick up a book that was published before that particular book in the series. But alas, Bear Meets Girl wasn’t one of those reads.

Lou “Crush” Crushek wakes up from a party, not his usual lifestyle mind you, wrapped up in the arms of a woman who instantly puts him on the edge. Marcella “Bare Knuckles” Malone (Cella) can’t help but have a little fun with the uptight polar bear until it all comes to the point where Cella is the one in need of Crush’s help to keep her well meaning family’s ministrations to help find her a “suitable” mate at a minimum.

Amid all this, there is some plot to hurt the bear population, Crush becoming a part of a new police force from his usual undercover work that has him going down in a bit of a spiral towards depression. Crush and Cella are two very contrasting characters, perhaps reason why I was drawn towards the book in the first place after reading the blurb. Cella, while is all out outrageous, Crush is the opposite. Someone who likes to keep to himself, who considers his home the haven of quiet & solitude that he requires after coming home from work. Cella and Crush do make the right fit, but I just couldn’t find myself all that interested in the rest of the story that was happening.

I skimmed through more than half of the story to just read the bits where Crush and Cella are together. Their dialogues with each other were refreshing. Their connection towards each other interesting, something that the author could have worked a bit more on to make the story more enticing. Because the rest of the stuff that was happening in the story just made my head whirl.

So given all the things that didn’t work for me in the book, one might ask, why did I still trudge on through the story? Well, there’s a magic to Shelly Laurenston’s writing that always makes me request her books even though the stories seem to come wrapped in a whole lot of characters and interactions between them, that tends to take away the focus from the main couple in the story. Which I seldom like, if at all. Bear Meets Girl having the exact same problem shouldn’t be a surprise, but then I keep hoping that this would be the time I would be proven wrong. I couldn’t skim through the rest of the chunks of the story fast enough to get to the bits where Crush and Cella were the focus. They make for a great combination. There’s enough spark, charm & adorableness to their coming together that makes it hard not to fall in love with them.

In my opinion, Bear Meets Girl is too seeped in details of all else that’s going on that it detracts the reader from the most alluring factor of the story; the couple in question & how their coming together works. I’m not saying other characters & scenes are not required to make a story more wholesome. No. It’s just that when a story gets bogged down with too much of past characters & extended family & whatnot, the reader who spontaneously picks up a book to read in the middle of a series can get a little lost in the midst of it all.

Recommended for fans of the author & fans of the Pride series.

Final Verdict: Bear Meets Girl; a story worth trudging through only because of Crush and Cella.

Favorite Quotes

She invaded his mouth with her tongue, fingers digging deep into the back of his neck and head, kind of holding him there. Crush’s entire body loosened, his arms falling away from his chest and to his sides, then reaching around her waist and pulling her off the chair. The chair ended up be- tween them, so Crush kicked it out of the way. Keeping a solid grip on her, he returned her kiss. But he wanted more.
Without thought to anything but the demands of his body, Crush pushed her up against his refrigerator, his body pin- ning hers there. He let his hands slip from around her waist and travel up until they could grip her breasts, fingers squeezing while his thumbs circled her nipples through her shirt and bra. Her entire body shook and then her hands were pressed against his chest, pushing him back.

Malone turned, saw them, and ran over. When she was about ten feet from Crush, she launched herself at him, hit- ting him hard, her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms around his neck. “Hi!”
“H—”
She didn’t let him finish, her mouth pressing against his, arms tightening around his neck. And for those few seconds Crush forgot about everyone else.
When she finally pulled her mouth away, Crush still had his eyes closed.
“I’m glad you came.”
Wait. He had? When?
“I was afraid you were going to bail on me.”
Oh! Came as in attend. Got it. He was there. He was okay.
He could handle this. Her. Whatever.
“I promised.”
“You did.” Still wrapped around him, she leaned back a
bit and gave him a once-over. “You’re kind of overdressed.” “I see that now.”

He wasn’t sure, but then she leaned in, sniffed his neck, and gently scraped a fang across his jugular. The last of Crush’s restraint snapped, his hands tightening around her waist. He lifted her up, pulled her in closer, and while staring into her eyes, slammed her down hard on his cock, at the same time bringing up his hips.
The feline roared, her head dropping back, her arms wrapping around his neck. She held on tight, breathing in deep and taking a moment before she looked at him.
Panting hard, they watched each other.
“Well,” she sighed, “that does feel good.”

She knew what he was doing, the tricky bastard. With every twist and tug and tease of her breast, her pussy tightened around his cock like a vise. His growling grew harsher, louder, and the vibration of it against her flesh had her nearly out of her mind. She panted, she mewled, she might have hissed a few times. Then she was coming. Coming so very hard that she cried out.
The bear lifted his head to gaze at her with those black eyes.
“You all right?” And she wondered if he realized he was still growling at her.
Unable to answer since she was still panting, Cella nod- ded.
“Good.” Remaining inside her, Crush slowly stood, releasing her arms so that he could carefully lift her legs and drape them over his forearms. “ ’Cause I’m not really done yet.”

“I need you to calm down, ma’am.”
Cella’s body began to shake, her knees weakening. “What is this?” he asked, fingers pressing, stroking. “Can
you tell me, ma’am? It’s better you come clean now rather than let me find out later. I can help you now.”
She shook her head, unable to find any words with her body unraveling.
“I don’t think you’re listening to me, ma’am.” He sighed, shook his head. “That’s a real shame.”
Cella didn’t know what he was saying, what was going on. She only knew what she felt and what she felt was that monumental orgasm ripping through her, so strong, she nearly threw the three-hundred-pound bear off her.

While Cella tried to get her breath back, the bear removed the cuffs, his hands rubbing her wrists. He stretched out on the floor and Cella collapsed on top of him. They lay in silence for long minutes until Cella admitted, “You have the biggest cock . . .”
Crush laughed, his hand slipping into her hair, massaging her scalp. “Why, thank you.”
“Just felt I should share that.”
“I have to admit, Cella, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of your after-sex pronouncements.”

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Flowers from the Storm by Laura Kinsale

Format: E-bookflowersfromthestorm
Read with: Scribd for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Harper Collins
Hero: Christian Richard Nicholas Francis Langland
Heroine: Archimedea Timms
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: May 27, 2003
Started On: September 10, 2015
Finished On: September 14, 2015

Flowers from the Storm by Laura Kinsale is a book I attempted to read in my quest to go through the books in one of the AAR Top 100 Romances lists I found way back, the year of the list which I have forgotten. While I went in expecting a novel that would of course sweep me off my feet, I didn’t bargain on a read that would send my emotions in all directions, making me wonder whether I should have at times thrown the book at the wall or hugged it close to my heart. Because I think that pretty much sums up my emotions when I was lost in the story that Flowers from the Storm delivered.

For those newbies like myself to the novel, Flowers from the Storm stars the rakish hero Christian Richard Nicholas Francis Langland, His Grace the Duke of Jervaulx, Earl of Langland and Viscount Glade. By rakish, I mean that Christian is the type of man who has no qualms about sleeping with a married woman, impregnating her, nor much care for what the society thinks of him. His one and only passion apart from being as notorious as they come with the ladies, lies in the field of Mathematics, an interest that he keeps close to his heart.

Archimedea Timms (Maddy) is a of the Quaker faith, something which I came to know of only when I encountered Maddy’s character and her “odd” ways in the novel. Conservative to the bone in the way she was brought up, Maddy’s faith dictates all the ways of her life. Companion to her father John Timms who himself is a Mathematics enthusiast, it is through this shared connection between Maddy’s father and Christian that Maddy crosses paths with Christian. However their “acquaintanceship” is a short lived one because an event of significant impact that occurs in Christian’s life sends him away, leaving everyone to think he had died, until Maddy encounters him months later, at the asylum that is run by her cousin Dr. Edward.

When Maddy’s paths crosses that with Christian’s, Maddy finds herself unable to walk away from the man that is chained to his current existence in more ways than one. Maddy answers to her God’s calling so to speak, when determinedly pursuing Christian’s path to recovery, hindered altogether too much by Christian’s wayward emotions together with that of the leave that Maddy’s senses take, every time she is in close quarters with Christian.

One thing leads to another & before she knows it, Maddy finds herself married to Christian, going against every major tenet of her belief system, against everything she has known and holds dear to her heart. Her existence with Christian is one fraught with desires of the kind that Maddy has been sheltered from all her life. The extravagance of Christian’s life, not to mention the treacherous game she has to play with Christian’s family that would rather see his determined spirit locked up is one that eats away at Maddy’s soul, day in and day out. Until it all comes to its explosive conclusion which left a thousand different feelings coursing right through me.

There were times that I wanted to shake Maddy, times that she made me grit my teeth and trudge on. All because her belief system, the very core of her existence which had been her life up till Christian entered into it was one that prevented her from going all in when it comes to him. I wanted Maddy to throw away everything she had known, abandon ship and jump right on board with Christian. But then again, I knew deep in my heart that that wouldn’t have delivered half the emotion and realism that Maddy’s character lent to the story. Once all was said and done, I was grateful for Laura Kinsale for penning Maddy, for giving readers a character that threw my emotions all over the place. Because that is in essence what great storytelling does to a reader.

Christian was of course, easy to fall in love with. Easy to relate to. And oh how my heart wept for what happened to him. But his sheer determination to do right by his wife is one that had me stand up and cheer him on. In a journey that was fraught with danger of the kind that actually had my skin crawling. Not because bad guys were out and about with their pistols blazing. But because the danger was too close to home in the case of Christian. And I for one hyperventilated at the thought of him going back into a life of captivity, the fire inside of him extinguished day by day until even the embers of his soul are too tired to put up a fight. There were so many times that I wanted to Google and find out what had happened to him, what had rendered him to become so. A thousand times I waited for a miracle to happen, for him to just get all better. But then Laura Kinsale proved me wrong and delivered something better. And that is the sense of realism that I am talking about when it comes to Flowers from the Storm.

Flowers from the Storm is for readers who want to go beyond your usual variety of romances where the rake reforms overnight and the heroine just goes along with it like it was meant to be. There is so much more happening in the story, all of it intricately woven to give readers something that they would carry with them for the rest of their lives. Kudos Laura Kinsale. For you certainly deserve it after delivering a read this explosive to the mind, heart and soul.

Utmostly recommended!

Final Verdict: Flowers from the Storm is a novel that changes you. Dare you to find out for yourself!

Favorite Quotes

His mouth hovered near hers. Even if she had tried to step back, she couldn’t have, without kittens toppling in all directions. She felt herself entrapped by it, frozen into place by him.
He brushed his mouth against hers, so lightly and briefly that it was a mere breath, a warmth, a touch and then gone before her lips parted to object. He was smiling at them, at her, holding kittens at her ears, caressing the protesting animals along her cheeks. She sucked in a quick breath as pins burrowed into her forehead and the kitten on top tried to scamper down her nose.

The whistle slipped from his fingers. She felt it bounce against her breasts as his mouth came to hers. He touched her as the silver had touched her, just a light graze, but warm.
He took modesty and virtue and salvation away from her so easily. She gave it up so easily.
She stood washed in the sensation of his featherlight contact against her lips, his breath mingling with hers. It seemed as if God’s light within her must be shining bright, filling her with wonder. This man, his eyes closed, dark lashes so frivolously long as they rested against his skin: even his eyelashes were unholy in their opulence.

She felt her own will leap up to meet his. Her mouth opened; he answered instantly with a deep and ardent union. His hands drew downward, closing as he leaned into her, bracing his forearms on the door.
He enveloped her. The feel of his kiss was strange and painful and electric. Her hands opened helplessly, trying to find something to touch that wasn’t him, but everything was him: all the solid reality within reach.
He opened his palms and smoothed her hair—sweetly, over and over like a parent would touch a child—at the same time that he kissed her, pressing hard against her, a forceful intercourse of their mouths and bodies.

The duke looked up at Maddy. He swept his hand over the formula her father had completed, where the value for the earth’s distance from the sun was multiplied by numbers half a million times greater than itself to reach the realms of their new geometry.
“Stars,” he said, his face alight with passion. “In… finity.”
And he smiled at her as if he owned it: distance and space and stars and infinity… as if he owned her, too.

A scarlet petal floated downward, avoided the brim of her bonnet and caught on her shoulder.
The scrap of crimson lay there, close to the pale curve of her throat, between the stark collar and the tight upward sweep of her hair. Christian reached out and caught the petal between his fingers. She held stiff, breathing like a frightened doe. He let the moment spin out, his hand suspended near her cheek, not quite touching—not quite, not quite—a whisper away, a restraint as intimate as a kiss.
Color flooded her cheeks. Expectation. Her eyes, those eyes that turned hazel to gold under wanton lashes; her eyes held terror and wonder.
He stepped back and set her free.

Her braid lay over her shoulder and their hands. He toyed with the tip of it. He held it in one fist and ran his thumb against it. The single strand of hair, the tiny thread that she’d looped tight to hold it—the strand broke, and the plait came free.
He made a sound, low and hot. And then he released her—before she could find herself in his embrace, before she could say what it felt like—only that he was solid and tall and heated and catastrophic, only that she felt bare and hollow when he let her go.

She lifted her chin and kissed him back.
He had been her teacher: she knew how to taste his mouth, search the corners while he grew still, his lips parting a little. His body seemed to respond with a slow tautness, a tightening over her; his hands pressed into her skin. Yet he lay motionless, suspended, his mouth acquiescent to hers, as if his whole concentration was on what it felt like. His lips opened more with each contact, allowing her to seek further—inviting it.
She touched him with her tongue. He was foreign and familiar, so close and yet so strange to her. A nobleman, with fairies and Welshmen and kings in his history, lord of this hall and castle, but most alien and potent of all: a man.

He locked his hands with hers and spread them out on the cold stone. His signet ring drove into her finger, caught between his hand and hers, painful pressure down to the bone, but she wanted it. She wanted it there, as she wanted him. Everything inside her arched upward to meet his kiss. It seemed that she had been bound up, held tight by threads that he had broken with a touch.
She heard herself, like a whimpering child, moaning with the terrible pleasure of it. She moved; she could not help it, taking the rhythm that he gave her with his tongue, arching to find more.

“Maddy,” he said, between hard breaths, “make you…glad. I swear.”
She smoothed her hand down his shoulder and his back. She could feel his heart beating. He shuddered again and pushed himself closer to her.
“I’ll make you glad,” he repeated.
She bit her lip, resting her head against his.
He turned his face deeper into her. “Black Guard won’t get you,” he said, muffled.
Stop. Oh, stop, say stop, but it’s too late.
Too late. Because God forgive me, I love thee more than my own life.

He lifted his head from the carpet to suckle her. She moved with awkward exquisite jerks, writhing, until he cupped his hands at her buttocks and taught her the rhythm, her hair sliding between his palms and her skin. With a lovely suddenness, she came— with little female cries, like an unquiet dreamer: he brought his arms up around her and held her close for an instant—then with one deep thrust, holding her hips down to take it, he let go of the lust he’d kept dammed inside him.
When it was finished he held her hard against his chest and never closed his eyes— to make it real, and banish nightmares in the firelight.

She sat looking down at her lap desk. She fiddled with the corner of the paper, rolling it up, and then unrolling it. “Christian,” she said, watching her fingers. “Wouldst thou please come tonight?”
For a moment he didn’t do anything. Then he steepled his hands and lifted his head from the back of the chair, resting his chin on the tips of his fingers, gazing at her.
“Why wait?” He smiled. “I’m here…now.”

She gave him a push. The book slid down; he held it out behind him and let it fall with a flutter and thump as he leaned forward to kiss her mouth. He caught her body in his hands, his thumbs passing provocatively over her breasts, caressing the tips, back and forth. The feel of it drew a liquid arching, a breath and a pressing flex of all her muscles toward him.
“Want me?” he whispered, licentious, the Devil at her ear in full daylight: a man’s firm elegant hands on her body, blue eyes and long dusky beautiful eyelashes.

He pulled her petticoat and dress higher, cupping her hips and her buttocks with his bare hands. He made a rough, ardent sound near her ear. He bit her, hurt her, kneading her body in his palms, but it was sweet pain and sinful ecstasy. She felt him release his own buttons; his hard male part pushed and pressed, and she began to pant in desperate guilty excitement.
Like stone melting, her body slackened, her legs allowed him between. The sound of his breath was caustic, an animal engine, brushing heat across her nakedness. He pressed her hips, a rash hard grip of his fingers, making her close her legs on his shaft.

“Want me?” His voice was grinding, insistent, taut with extremity. “Maddy… inside you.”
She bit her lip, her face turned aside to the wall. “I want thee,” she said, on a sob. “I want thee.”
And he showed her how, then. How to bend and submit for him, in bondage to him, in daylight, sinking together on their knees to the floor, with him deep inside her, over her and around her, his hands holding her breasts, his mouth against the nape of her neck—lost in him and in his coupling with her. She cried out with violent joy at the height, her voice mingling with his masculine groan: the two of them no more, and no less, than every wild creature that God had made of clay to walk the earth.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Midnight Fire by Lisa Marie Rice

Format: E-bookmidnightfire
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Men of Midnight, #4
Publisher: Carina Press
Hero: Jack Delvaux
Heroine: Summer Redding
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: September 21, 2015
Started On: September 14, 2015
Finished On: September 18, 2015

Summer Redding is the owner of the political blog/webzine called Area 8. With both her parents dead and being an only child, Summer leads an almost solitary existence. No men that entered into her life since her non-relationship with Jack Delvaux, who was killed in a terrorist attack that had rocked Washington DC, had ever measured up to her expectations. That is exactly who she runs into at a funeral that she would rather not have attended.

For the past six months, Jack had gone underground, disappeared by hiding in plain sight, all for one reason. To bring the perpetrators of the Washington Massacre to justice. Not your usual run of the mill variety of terrorists that mostly hail from Arabic origins. But homegrown and bred terrorists, possibly within the organization that he had dedicated a huge percent of his adult life to serving, i.e. the Central Intelligence Agency.

When Jack and Summer’s paths cross, Jack has no other choice but to come clean. Summer would have thought that given how things had ended with them previously, she would be immune to the tougher & much harder version of the golden boy she had fallen for so hard, years back. What Jack feels for Summer takes him by surprise as well. The feeling of being at home with Summer is one that is foreign to him, but one he realizes that is fates way of giving him a chance to work things out this time around.

When the bad guys come calling for Summer, all bets are off and once again the men from the previous books in the Midnight and Men of Midnight series get together to hunt and root out the bad guys before the fate of the entire country ends up at the mercy of the enemy that wants America to fall. And fall hard.

Midnight Fire is a book that holds the remnants & whispers of the Lisa Marie Rice that I used to know and love. There is a strong alpha hero of course. And then there’s the good sex; this time around on an airplane! The only thing that perhaps was different was the heroine Summer, who was feisty in her own little ways. Not the usually demure type of heroine that Lisa Marie Rice is famous for. For one thing Summer is strong and independent, but that doesn’t mean she is stupid enough to walk into disaster. One thing that stood out for me in this story was how Jack leveled with Summer when danger came calling, how he had just told her how things stood rather than ordering her to stay put. That spoke to me on a level that I wouldn’t have thought possible, but there it was.

Summer and Jack are both likable characters, but I wouldn’t say that there was anything extraordinary about them that touched me except for the fact that they both have the zeal to do what’s right, no matter the consequences. What I miss most from the Lisa Marie Rice novels that I used to love is the sizzling and at time scorching variety of sexual tension that exists between her characters. And Lisa Marie Rice is an author that delivers spectacularly on that. The uber protectiveness that comes along with the sexy, drop-you-down-to-your-knees variety of heroes that graced her novels. The ultra feminine & yet strong in the ways that count heroines who enter your heart right from the get go. Through it all, Lisa Marie Rice was an author that delivered on the suspense aspect as well, though one might not have the hardest time figuring out the bad guys in her novels. All that somehow seems to have changed with the recent novels that have been published and I for one mourn the loss of it all.

Recommended for those who love novels by Lisa Marie Rice. For those that love a strong hero and an equally determined heroine.

Final Verdict: A favorable installment to the Men of Midnight series.

Favorite Quotes

With his hand he silently told her to widen her stance and she opened her legs and oh my God! His fingers found her slick heat and she shuddered. He touched her just so. A Goldilocks touch. Not too hard and not too soft and oh! A probing finger rubbed over her clitoris then dipped inside her heat and she clenched. She clenched with her entire lower body, it was so intense.
She opened her mouth under his and gasped.
“That’s my girl,” Jack murmured.
“Jack,” she whispered.
“Darlin’,” he whispered back.

So hot, so hard, so…right. It was like a homecoming, something she’d wanted, missed for so long. Her legs rose, wrapped around him as tightly as her arms around his shoulders as she savored a connection that was a missing piece of her. As if she’d been half dead and was coming back to life.
Jack withdrew slowly, pushed back in, and it was sheer bliss, her body had missed this, she’d missed him so very much. To her horror, tears sprang to her eyes but her body saved her in the nick of time. She tipped over into orgasm and tears were perfectly normal while climaxing.
And she could pretend it was just sex instead of her heart opening to Jack Delvaux once more.

There was something exciting about being half dressed, having to keep quiet, some whiff of the forbidden. He was thrusting hard. He reached down, opened her up even further with his fingers so that his penis rubbed right…there.
She went up in flames. She clenched heavily once, twice and came with a huge electric rush, wanting to cry out but Jack covered her mouth with his. She couldn’t move and couldn’t cry out and it was as if her body turned in on itself, exploding.

Summer was done, she went lax. Her sex was soft and open to him slick with her juices. Jack’s movements became less rhythmic, jerky, moving in short hard thrusts so fast she was surprised she didn’t burn up from the friction. He gasped, thrust hard one last time and started coming in hot spurts inside her that, impossibly, gave her another climax.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Bound to the Bachelor by Sarah Mayberry

Format: E-bookboundtothebachelor
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Montana Born Bachelor Auction, #1
Publisher: Tule Publishing
Hero: Beau Bennett
Heroine: Lily Taylor
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: February 20, 2015
Started On: September 09, 2015
Finished On: September 09, 2015

Bound to the Bachelor by Sarah Mayberry is a novel that somehow, for one reason or the other, I missed out on when it first came out. It is for that reason mostly, just in case I miss out on a novel by one of my favorite authors, I have this habit of going through their book list up on Goodreads or Amazon every now and then. Thank goodness for that habit because I found this little gem, tucked into a corner, a moment that I must say, made my whole week! When it is an author like Sarah Mayberry, I never even hesitate before pressing the purchase button. And there I was, savoring every feeling that coursed through me while I immersed myself in the wondrous story that Bound to the Bachelor turned out to be.

Lily Taylor and Beau Bennett have always seemed to rub each other the wrong way. Lily had always received the impression that Beau didn’t like her overly much and would actually prefer it if he didn’t have to cross paths with her – at all. But then Lily has to seek him out for a fund raising event for her godson Josh, and nothing, not even Beau’s less than enthusiastic response when it comes to her is going to deter her.

The thought of parading himself for a bunch women who would bid for a date with him is an idea that holds little appeal to Beau. But then Lily is a hard woman to say no to and before he knows it, Beau says yes and ends up with a date with no other than Lily herself, a surprising turn of events if ever there was one. Even though Beau might want to go out of his way to avoid Lily, not because she repels him, but just the opposite; the very idea that Lily thinks it okay not to go on the date that he promised when he took part in the auction is one that doesn’t settle with him. So off on the date they go, neither expecting it to turn out to be a day they both equally enjoy, a date during which both of them face head on the reason why they go to such great lengths to avoid each other.

When a part of Lily’s past comes calling, and not a good one at that, it is Beau that steps up, that helps her in ways that she wouldn’t have had the heart to ask from anyone. And through it all, with the delicious tension that sizzles along your nerve endings, Sarah Mayberry delivers the kind of passion that stirs you inside and out, and gives you a read that strikes something different within you with each page you turn.

Sarah Mayberry is an author who always manages to create a backstory with pertinent and at times difficult issues, issues that are hard to read about, yet they educate you in the ways that actually matter. At the heart of Bound to the Bachelor lies the abuse that Lily had managed to escape from at the tender age of sixteen & what she’d done to survive & how that had shaped her life & her outlook on it. Feeling sympathy for the “villain” is something that happens rarely but under the circumstances I think it’s more than fair to say that there was no way I could’ve finished the book without feeling a dose of just that. And that right there is why authors like Sarah Mayberry tops the list, always.

I dearly loved both Lily and Beau. Though I wanted a lengthier novel that would have spent more time on both Beau and Lily, for my own selfish reasons of course, this little number worked well too. Sarah still managed to give readers a well rounded tale of the opposites attract with a healthy dose of explosive tension & the tender side of love, all in one. Beau was just delicious, in more ways than one. And the seduction scene where Lily dances for Beau – hot damn!

The high readable factor of Sarah Mayberry novels is why I love her as an author. So much heart and emotion packed into her books, that remaining aloof and distant from what goes on is an impossibility. Mustering enough enthusiasm about novels these days gets to be challenging at times, especially with the wide range of releases across the sub-genres of romance. But Sarah Mayberry is one of the authors that I can always count on to deliver, and that she does.

Much recommended for fans who love the heartwarming variety of beautiful contemporary romances.

Final Verdict: Bound to the Bachelor; a tale that binds you to every single page you turn.

Favorite Quotes

“So,” she said after a long, thick silence. “Who’s going to give in first, do you think?”
“Maybe we should put some money on it.”
“So the person who holds out the longest gets the money?” she asked.
His gaze dropped from her face to scan her body. “I’m not sure that’s a bet I want to win.”
There was so much heat and need in his eyes. All the sensible thoughts that had been making her hold back, all of the reasons why this was a bad idea, simply blew away like so much dust.
She wanted this man inside her. Now.
“Fuck it,” she said, then she reached for him and pulled his head down to hers.

He reached for the stud on her jeans, and together they rid her of them and her underwear. The sight of her silky pubic hair made him weak at the knees, and he started to sink toward the ground, needing to taste her there, wanting to feel her response.
“No.” Her hand caught at his hair, pulling him up short.
He let out a short bark of surprised laughter.
“I need you inside me. Stop messing around,” she ordered.
He was pretty sure he’d never received a better order in his life.

Dipping one finger into her mouth, she trailed it slowly down her chest and belly as she strut-walked toward him. He was already reaching for her as she lifted a leg and straddled him. His hands closed over her hips as she snugged herself up nice and tight against his hard-on, then she covered his hands with her own and slowly lifted them away from her body, returning them to the sides of the chair.
“No touching,” she said in a low, husky voice.
“Are you kidding me?”
She circled her hips and he gave a small groan.
“No touching,” she repeated.

“Hey,” she protested.
He simply placed a hand in the center of her chest and pushed her back onto the mattress.
“Shut up and take what’s coming to you,” he said.
He hooked his fingers into the waist of her panties and pulled them down her legs. Then he nudged her thighs open with his knee. He knew the exact moment she realized where he was going and what he was about to do – her mouth opened, and her breathing accelerated, her hips lifting instinctively in welcome.
“I’m going to make you scream, Lily,” he promised her.
Then he set out to prove it.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo

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by mvbookreviewer

Requested ARC Review: The Highest Tide by Marian Perera

Format: E-bookthehighesttide
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Series: Eden, #4
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Hero: Jason Remerley
Heroine: Lera Vanze
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: February 17, 2015
Started On: August 29, 2015
Finished On: September 08, 2015

Jason Remerley is a brothel health inspector, who runs into Captain Lera Vanze at The Velvet Court. From the first moment Jason lays eyes on the beautiful red haired Lera, Jason has a deep gnawing need to have her, regardless of the consequences. Lera believes that even a scarred woman like her should be able to fulfill her physical needs, which is why when she encounters a man who entices her more than a simple pay for sex kind of transaction ought to, Lera gets more wary than ever.

Of course Lera finds out, which makes the matter of traveling on the same ship on a mission that seems to be filled with dangers of its own kind doubly perilous. Jason has his own agenda in tagging along on the trip while Lera’s sole mission is to protect Kovir, the Seawatch operator that is recruited for the mission. While The Highest Tide is book 4 in the Eden series, this can be read as a standalone without much of a difficulty. However, I’d still say that this series is best read in its order as each of the books so far has been pretty great reads!

While Jason might not be the type of hero that I’m used to going gaga over, his shrewd intelligence, his focus on doing right by whatever he is tasked with, his determination when it comes to Lena; all of that makes for pretty alluring qualities if you ask me. There is a calmness to him that just feels like an oasis from the vicious storms that rage outside and perhaps one of the reasons I fell for him was that.

Marian has a penchant for writing strong heroines who sometimes tends to outshine the heroes with their abilities & strength of character. Lena was definitely one of them. Scarred with a past to match, Lena was set for a life of sailing warships until Jason came along. Any courtship more presumptuous on Jason’s part would have definitely not worked on Lena. Having encountered Lena in the previous novel, readers are introduced here to her more ‘giving’ side by the feelings of concerns she shows for Kovir, the Seawatch operative under her care, looking out for him like she’d do for a child of her own or such. From a brothel to the high seas, to being stranded in an island strapped with explosives, Lena and Jason’s courtship is definitely one for the books and one that I enjoyed.

There is quite the backstory linking Jason to the villain which I found entirely fascinating. Villain was definitely psychotic, not to mention downright scary in his ability to unleash his more sadistic tendencies which gave the story that added edge that Marian’s stories are equipped with. I would say that The Highest Tide is a pretty interesting addition to the Eden series. Marian definitely has got the talent it takes to awe and woo the reader to indulge in her alternate worlds. I for one definitely can’t wait to see where this journey is going to end.

Final Verdict: Marian never fails to amaze me with her ability to create beauty from utter chaos. Recommended!

Favorite Quotes

Without looking away from him, she reached for the door and her fingers brushed over smooth hard wood. She didn’t know if she meant to anchor herself with that, something solid to hold on to while she walked out, but her body decided before her mind could. A twitch of muscle, a flex of fingers, and the door swung shut.
Click.
Jason’s eyes dilated, dark with need, and he met her the rest of the way. His free arm went around her waist. Her body jolted from the touch, though that only made her press more closely against his tall frame, and her skin prickled as if a tide of sensation both hot and cold at once had rushed beneath it. The sheet might as well not have existed.

“Ah, Lera.”
The whisper was raw, his voice deepening to a growl, and it made her lean into him, needing more. His thigh pressed between her legs, and she twisted just enough to feel his erection, hard as an anchor against her belly. He shuddered, and his teeth found the softness of her throat in retaliation. Then he sucked on her flesh. Her nipples ached to be mouthed like that, suckled until she was wet and bucking with need, until she pushed him to his knees before her so he could press his face between her thighs, making her cry out before he pulled her down to him and mounted her.

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: The One in My Heart by Sherry Thomas

Format: E-booktheoneinmyheart
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Self-Published
Hero: Bennett Oliver Stuart Somerset
Heroine: Evangeline Canterbury
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: April 20, 2015
Started On: August 22, 2015
Finished On: August 28, 2015

“Praise the Lord,” he murmured, slipping off my undies, “for a woman who can bring me to my knees.”

The One in My Heart is Sherry Thomas’ first foray into the world of contemporary romance. Written in the first person, The One in My Heart is a novel that firmly entrenches itself in the reader’s heart as you go deeper into the story. If you have read any of my reviews on Ms. Thomas’ historical romances, you’d know that I always praise her for her ability to write stories in such poetic prose – there is no other way to describe what her words does to you. They just flow through you, become one with you, as if you have been waiting your whole life for those words to come to you.

The One in My Heart starts on a dark stormy night, when Evangeline Canterbury, while walking home, altogether too depressed for words, runs into the enigmatic, charming and handsome Dr. Bennett Oliver Stuart Somerset. What happens in the next couple of hours is a connection of the instantaneous variety, the kind that sears through the walls of reserved indifference on the part of Evangeline.

Months later, Evangeline encounters the good doctor again, only to be persuaded to help him in a scheme to get back into the good graces of his family, a family he had walked away from in the pursuit of the only woman who had owned his heart. Evangeline knows that when it comes to Bennett, that her heart is in serious jeopardy of falling, and falling hard. The one thing Evangeline has always evaded is getting too close to anyone who could hurt her because life had taught her that in abundance.

What follows is as delicious as it is heartbreaking and reaffirming. Ms. Thomas takes you on a journey of the type that is not easy to forget, that just consumes you as a whole. I couldn’t get enough of Evangeline and Bennett once I got into the story, nor would my stomach settle down from the nervous anticipation of the ultimate destruction of their non-relationship relationship when it happened. A good romance is one where all your emotions are involved and there is no holding back. And Ms. Thomas delivered just that with The One in My Heart.

The One in My Heart has a bit of a slow start to it. But 2-3 chapters in, and bam, you are hooked, line & sinker & there’s no turning back. The infamous Sherry Thomas magic was present in spades in this one. Being her first & only contemporary romance to-date, I’d say Ms. Thomas definitely has had zero issues in transitioning from the historical genre to the contemporary. A job well done, I must heartily admit.

One thing that surprised me though, was the first person take of the story. None of her historical romances are told in the first person, & yet Ms. Thomas made this work too. Though I truly wanted to get inside the mind of the charmingly sexy Bennett, Ms. Thomas did an excellent job of making the reader not feel too cheated out on in that aspect.When Bennett laid out his side of the story, when everything clicked so well in that a-ha! moment, that was when I truly felt my heart quake inside my chest.

Bennett totally invaded my heart & soul, ravaged my mind & left it all muddled with all the effortless charm and sexy he brought to the story. If there’s anything that makes a girl salivate over a romance is a hero presented well, a hero that can turn your half-hearted “no” to a complete “Oh my God yes!” in a heartbeat. When Bennett pushed Evangeline against the wall and had his way with her, this just mere hours after their first encounter, well, that was my “you had me at hello” moment when it came to him. With his penchant for older women & tendency to fall in love at first sight, well, lets just say that Bennett can turn up on my doorstep any day with just his trench coat on & nothing else. Well, a girl can always dream, can’t she? A hero who is so beautifully portrayed as you sink deeper into the story, that you can’t help but sigh endlessly over his character. Yes ladies, Bennett is that salivation worthy!

Evangeline was the tough cookie in this novel. But she was just as endearing, especially with her high wall of reinforced steel guarding her vulnerabilities & emotions, adept at playing dodge with the messier aspects of relationships. Evangeline actually prefers her existence the way it is, but then Bennett had to enter into it, entice her into saying yes to being his fake girlfriend and before she knew it, she’d fallen head over heels for the man. The fact that Bennett loved Evangeline too much to not let her hide behind barriers, to shake her out of the contentment she seeks in never showing her true self to anyone, made me love him just more. Evangeline’s attempts to thwart all efforts by Bennett to let him in was heartbreaking to watch, but I think that was exactly the jolt she needed to really face her past, exorcise the ghosts and move on.

Loved the secondary characters, the little tidbits about them that made the story that much better & enticing. I could’ve kept on reading and reading about Bennett & Evangeline, but like everything else that is good and beautiful, the end did come. A beautifully fitting end to an otherwise golf-sized-lumps-in-your throat variety of story. Icing on the cake was the fact that this story is very loosely tied to one of the most emotional historical romances from Ms. Thomas that I’ve read & reviewed to date; Private Arrangements. I continually find myself amazed at Ms. Thomas’ ability to make the unworkable work. Private Arrangements has such a storyline. The One in My Heart has the other woman done to a T, but yet, it doesn’t leave you feeling like the heroine got second helpings when it came to the hero, nor did it paint his first love as a villainous harlot that you absolutely had to hate. Absolute genius is Sherry Thomas!

Ms. Thomas definitely proved to be a quick study when it came to her first contemporary romance. Nothing short of splendid! Absolutely worth your time. Highly recommended.

Final Verdict: Beautiful in its prose & darkly emotional; The One in My Heart will completely & utterly ruin you!

Favorite Quotes

I panted, the sound primal. Animal.
He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, revealing a runner’s build: strong shoulders, slim waist, beautifully cut abdomen.
I closed my eyes for a moment, overcome by lust. When I opened them again, it was to the sight of my hand on his upper arm. And then I did something that surprised me: I leaned in and nipped his shoulder.
He grunted. I found myself pressed hard against the wall, his hand between my thighs. For a moment I thought he’d be rough, but he touched me lightly, delicious little caresses at just the right places.
“Yes,” I whimpered. “Yes.”

“You see this?” he asked as he laid me down on the chaise. “When I come back from thirty hours in the hospital, I don’t even bother going up to the bedroom. I just sleep right here. But before I go to sleep I masturbate, and I think about you—under me, over me, and maybe bent over the armrest. Every time, without fail.”
I was unbelievably turned on.
He yanked off my boots. Reaching under my skirt, he peeled away my tights and my underwear. Now he undressed, smoothed on a condom, and pushed my skirt up around my waist. Then, in one motion, he was all the way inside me.

“Do you know why I think of you?” He spoke directly into my ear. “You make me come instantly. I put my hand on myself, picture you naked, and I come like a fourteen-year-old.”
The pleasure of his body was volcanic. The pleasure of his words was a conflagration. I was already on the verge when he said, “I come so fast that sometimes I have to masturbate one more time. And when I do that, I imagine fucking you all night long.”
My orgasm was a bullet to the head, a shocking starburst. His was similarly thorough and ferocious. But he didn’t stop. He kept going, kissing my face, my throat, my breasts, until I was trembling again.
Until together we fell over the edge again.

He pulled the sweater over my head and did the same for the camisole I wore underneath, exposing my bra. And then he pushed down my skirt and tights to reveal a pair of matching underpants. They were both basic black—I hadn’t wanted to look as if I’d planned to be disrobed.
“Praise the Lord,” he murmured, slipping off my undies, “for a woman who can bring me to my knees.”

“Do you know you have the perfect face for a nun—as if you have only prayers on your mind? And then there are those times when it all changes, and you look pornographically turned on.”
He pried open my legs and caressed the places I’d tried to conceal from him. Pleasure flooded me.
“Do I look like that now?” I heard myself ask, my voice raspy.
It was his turn to sound unsteady. “Yes.”
He went down on me. And it felt so good, I had to bite down on my lower lip to not sound as aroused as I felt. But by the time he brought me to my third orgasm, I had given up any and all attempt to be quiet and contained.
Then he was inside me, huge and hard. And just like that, I was again pornographically turned on.

“You. I masturbate to you.”
At this he resumed that wonderful cadence that gave me so much pleasure. “Keep talking.”
“I imagine…” I panted. “I imagine running into you unexpectedly, somewhere out of town.”
“Somewhere like Munich?”
I quaked inside. “Maybe.”
“And then?”
“And then you pull me into your hotel room, lock the door, and fuck me.”
[..]
“Do I fuck you all night?” His voice was rough, demanding.
I closed my eyes even tighter. “Yes.”
He rammed into me. “But you never called. And you never texted.”
And I came like an asteroid striking ground.

“You know what I want?” His voice turned raspy. “I want to fuck you before I go to work. And I want to fuck you right after I come back home.”
I might have ripped apart his vest. I definitely heard shirt studs pinging into the headboard. Keep talking. Keep telling me how much you want me.
And don’t ever stop.
“I want to see you naked against a wall again. I want to see the way you look at me. You have such hungry eyes.”

He bit my earlobe. “Do you know what I really want?”
“What?” I gasped.
“I want to fuck you bareback. Every inch of me, feeling every inch of you.”
Damn him. Those words made me peak again—violently. At least he joined me this time, his orgasm equally untrammeled.

He gripped the back of the chaise, his teeth gritted. “God, Eva.”
I braced my hands on his shoulders. “This is what you want, isn’t it? To fuck me bareback?”
For a minute only the sounds of our heavy, ungovernable breaths filled the air as my hips lifted and lowered, merging with him again and again.
Then he wrapped his arms around me and brought me close to him. “Yes, this is what I’ve always wanted, to make love to you with nothing between us.”
And I was lost.
We were both lost.

Unhurriedly he kissed me everywhere. Without any haste he entered me. We kissed, our bodies joined, and went on kissing, until slow-simmering pleasures again more turned needy and frantic.
“I love the taste of your lips,” he whispered in my ear. “I love the texture of your skin. I love the sound of your breaths. “
And then: “I love everything about…about this moment.”
The orgasm that ensued was the most intense one yet.

“In Henry V, King Henry says to Kate, ‘You have witchcraft in your lips,’”
Bennett murmured sleepily. “Do you know where you have witchcraft, Eva?”
“Do tell,” I answered archly, expecting him to heap praise on my private parts.
He pressed a kiss into my shoulder. “In your eyes.”

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

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: The Replacement Wife by Rowena Wiseman

Format: E-bookthereplacementwife
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Fiction
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Impulse Australia
Hero: Luke
Heroine: Luisa
Sensuality: 1
Date of Publication: September 1, 2015
Started On: August 25, 2015
Finished On: August 26, 2015

I truly became his the day he sent me a line from a John Donne poem: more than kisses, letters mingle souls.

Rowena Wiseman’s The Replacement Wife, though it might come off as a humorous chic lit sort of story by its description is hardly that. I guess this is my first Contemporary Fiction novel too, and though there is a humorous tinge to the layout of the story, it delves with an issue that few authors will write so candidly about. Adultery. Straying from your partner. Why people begin to look for a way out when a long term relationship or marriage turns dull and passionless.

Luisa and Luke have been married for almost 12 years. With their son Max in tow, Luisa and Luke’s life is a typical page out of how long term relationships can go wrong, without one even realizing that its happening. Luisa receives the wake up call when she meets Jarvis, one of her long ago crushes. One thing leads to another and before long, Luisa and Jarvis have professed their love for each other.

Though Luisa doesn’t allow the physical aspect of hers and Jarvis’ relationship to proceed, emotionally, she cheats on Luke in every foreseeable manner. And then Luisa comes up with the perfect plan. Find her husband a woman he would fall in love with and then she would finally be able to move on with Jarvis, with zero guilt.

After many a hilarious antic by Luisa, when her plan finally kicks off, the consequences of her actions certainly brings forth the kind of emotions she thought she would no longer feel towards her husband. With a bittersweet ending to it, The Replacement Wife definitely is not for the judgmental, the ones who think that the perfect mates are angels sent from heaven.

I applaud Rowena Wiseman for putting this story out there. It must not have been easy to write, because even though this book is highly readable, the material in it is one that pricks and pokes at you, makes you think along lines that you would never want to, unless you are someone who is willing to push the boundaries, all the time. Looking at some of the reviews already up on Goodreads, some readers admit that this book actually made them uncomfortable. So no surprises that this book has received low ratings from them.

Like I said, this book is not for everyone. Luisa and Luke’s relationship or the lack of one, when it comes to light, is sort of heartbreaking. Theirs is a passionless existence. The mundaneness of life had broken their relationship well and good. Luisa’s emotional and sexual needs remain unseen to. Luke remains adamant that he is a good husband, just that Luisa wants it all – things that he has no inclination now to give.

I couldn’t bring myself to hate Luisa for what she did. I understood her. I felt for her. I actually felt bad for her because a passionless relationship is hard for someone who wants more. Who yearns for that spark in their lives. For Luke, it is just the opposite. He is content with what he has with Luisa and Max. This is a question I’ve asked on occasion. If you have never truly tasted the volatility and beauty of passion, how do you judge someone who has, for wanting that?

Luisa believes that Jarvis is that man for her. The man who would sweep her off her feet, fulfill her physical and emotional needs. It was painful to see her ask from Luke, to see her try and provoke him into feeling something. Anything. And when Luisa’s plan works and gives that jolt to Luke, their marriage becomes infused with the energy that had been missing from it for so long, and that is when Luisa comes to the realization that she had lost it all.

Perhaps in the end, Luisa got what she deserved. While Luke got the better end of the deal if you ask me, I liked the story for its ability to make me think. Think hard. About life choices, about how much work it is to actually keep any relationship, let alone a marriage alive, especially after kids enter the picture.

Luke wasn’t a bad husband per se. But the fact that he couldn’t muster any enthusiasm to reach out to his wife, to realize just how bad things were in their relationship, that signals just how dead he was inside as well. I don’t think many would appreciate the candid honesty of Rowena’s voice in this novel. I loved it. It was definitely refreshing to see the side of ‘relationships’ that most authors would definitely not want to write about.

No one likes reading about adultery, unless it comes with a ton of forbidden fruit material with it. But I believe Rowena Wiseman’s take on the issue is insightful, to say the least. If you are squeamish about stories that deal with cheating, this is definitely not for you. But if you’d like to read something that would make you think and view the world just a tad more realistically, give The Replacement Wife a try. It just might teach you a thing or two.

Final Verdict: Honest & at times brutal in its depiction, digs deep into why we stray when we stray.

Favorite Quotes

I sat on the single chair and watched him, wondering how we had drifted so far from each other. He was like a business partner living in my house. He liked us to make all of the decisions about Max together; it was parenting by committee. I couldn’t buy a new winter quilt for Max without getting Luke’s sign-off on the warmth rating and choice of material first. He liked input into the choice of washing detergent, the ply of the toilet paper, the home-cooked meals for the week. We talked about all of these things, but we no longer talked about ourselves: about our hopes, our dreams, our passions, our fears. We had nothing left between us as people. We were just decision-makers.

I thought about Ben, who’d had an affair on Trish two years ago, and how much I’d despised him, how I’d thought Ben was such a low-life bastard. But now I felt like maybe I understood Ben’s perspective. I realised that people don’t make decisions to have an affair lightly; it happens with a lot of angst and soul-searching. Perhaps I should have applauded Ben’s bravery, his sense of adventure and inability to settle for an unsatisfying long-term relationship. So many people settle for misery; you hear of those couples that break up after thirty years of an unhappy marriage, after the kids move out of home. Those are the people who deserve our damnation, not the ones who are brave enough to make a great escape before their breasts go as flat as roadkill.

He said he’d wait for me; I could take my time. He said he knew that we were born to be together, that it would happen when the time was right, and if it wasn’t right yet he would wait.
Sometimes he didn’t say much at all, he simply sent me a link to a song, a quote from a book he was reading, an image of a work he was sketching. I truly became his the day he sent me a line from a John Donne poem: more than kisses, letters mingle souls.

I was an editor, in love with words, and his words had been the most precious I had ever read. They had transcended reality, dug a hole in my head, and planted seeds of what my life could be like with someone who could write such words. But could that someone ever have lived those words fully with me? Probably not.
I ran my fingers over those scattered pieces of gold tinsel on the ground. They had dropped off, become detached, lost their shine, gotten splattered by mud. Those fallen pieces of tinsel were me. I rescued two strands and put them in my handbag.

Last week I saw a new sculpture of Jarvis’s in the Venice Biennale on artnews.com. It was a red tinsel zombie, smaller than usual. In front of the zombie were large silver letters, Emily Floyd-style, saying More than kisses, letters mingle souls. My heart tumbled in dirty laundry. Perhaps I had meant something to him after all? Maybe he did remember everything, too? Maybe this was his way of reaching out to me? But then I saw a small 3D word to the side of the work, a reference. I zoomed in to see what it said. Instead of John Donne, it was the word Done. It was his last goodbye to me. And silver scissors snipped me free from the golden tinsel I’d been hanging onto for years.

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Friction by Sandra Brown

Format: E-bookfriction
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Crawford Hunt
Heroine: Holly Spencer
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: August 18, 2015
Started On: August 19, 2015
Finished On: August 22, 2015

“You don’t have a claim.”
His eyes narrowed. “I kinda do.” He started walking toward her, and for each step forward he took, she took one back until she came up against her desk. “That unreasonable, unrefined fuck on your sofa gave me a claim.”

Sandra Brown is one of those authors that I always look forward to reading. Since Ms. Brown publishes just one novel a year of late, her stories have become that much more coveted. Because in a genre that is overburdened with stories that don’t really make the cut, Ms. Brown still manages to deliver highly readable ones, worth every penny they cost you.

Texas Ranger Crawford Hunt is pursuing the battle of his life, i.e. the battle for custody of his daughter Georgia. On the day of the verdict, like a nightmare that you can’t wake up from, a lone gunman bursts into the courtroom, firing his weapon, not giving much of a consideration at who might be hit. Acting on instinct, Crawford saves Judge Holly Spencer’s life, the woman who actually stands between him and the custody of his daughter.

Unwillingly, Crawford is drawn to the investigation surrounding the lone gunman, a hero to the public owing to his fearlessness, a person of interest to the lead investigators on the case, all because of a personal grudge with Crawford. To make matters more complex, Crawford and Holly’s reaction to one another definitely goes beyond a matter of “conflict of interest”, made that much more vexing by Holly’s campaign for renewal of judgeship.

With a multifaceted cast of secondary characters that gives the story an added richness, Ms. Brown throws all your senses haywire, the mystery behind the shooting turning taking more puzzling turns as the clock ticks. I had my theories about where the story was headed. Whether Holly was the target as initially thought to be or not. It’s always a delight when an author juggles multiple characters with fascinating aspects to them that gives a story that ultimate grandeur making it unputdownable. I like a book that makes my brain whirl around, trying to put the pieces together and Friction did that for me. 

Holly and Crawford’s reaction to one another was the coup de grâce for me. All of it was nothing short of hot and all consuming! From the very first time these two get together; and I was ready to throw iPad at the wall thinking Ms. Brown had cheated out on us by just referring to the brazenly hot quickie, I was a goner. Holly the judge whose job makes her see things in black and white and the big bad Texas ranger who always colors in between the black and white and operates with his own set of rules. Both are characters you fall in love with from the very start and that’s how you convince readers of the fact that they belong together, even though they seemingly have nothing in common and have insurmountable odds stacked against them. Ms. Brown is a wizard at delivering just the right touch, where its needed.

Crawford deserves a few lines of his own if you ask me. So effing hot. No two ways about it. Just the kind of hero that Ms. Brown is famous for delivering, in almost all her stories. Tall, grey eyed, commanding, handsome and the list goes on; Ms. Brown creates heroes of the kind that you fantasize over, over & over again. Crawford’s brand of seduction works – works so well that I definitely craved for more! Georgia’s character too deserves a mention. Adorable is the word I would use to describe her and I believe no reader would be left untouched by the charm her character delivers to the story.

Fear not if you think that Friction might have the sort of ending the story Lethal did. Friction delivers a well rounded ending to a tale that had my gut churning from all the nervous anticipation, not to mention the moments of fear upon facing the sheer evil that drove Crawford to the lengths he had to go to. In other words Ms. Brown, splendid, as always.

Definitely recommended. For fans of suspense with that bite of romance, commanding heroes & long lasting love that defies everything!

Final Verdict: With Friction, Sandra reasserts her mastery in a genre that she continues to dominate!

Favorite Quotes

“No problem. Better now?”
She nodded and when she did, her forehead brushed against his chest and then rested there. His hands stilled on her shoulders, then moved to encircle her neck, his fingertips gently kneading the back of it. She set her hands at his waist and leaned into him. A deep inhale caused her whole body to shudder.
“Shh.” He hugged her closer and sent his fingers up into her hair until he was cupping the back of her head in his hand. His other slid down her back and began stroking her spine. On one downward trip, it slid past the small of her back and settled on the curve of her hip. And stayed there.
Suddenly neither of them was breathing.
After what seemed an endless time of absolute stillness, she tilted her head up.
Crawford looked down into her brimming green eyes and thought, Oh fuck.

“I’m as much to blame for that as you.”
“That’s not what you said earlier tonight. You suggested I’d had an ulterior motive.”
“That was wrong of me. I know you didn’t plan it. I know you regret what we did.”
“Hell I do,” he growled. “I only regret what we didn’t.” Keeping his hands on the wall, he pressed into her softness with unmistakable implication, bending his head, and claiming her mouth with his.
For crissake, we didn’t even kiss, he’d said.
He rectified that now, fiercely and possessively, and she let him.

She smiled. “You made rather obvious your aversion to him.”
“What gave me away?”
“You stormed off without a word to anyone.”
He looked angry, then chagrined, then angry again. “He sailed in and acted like he owned you.”
“He hugged me.”
“He held you.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Where he put his hands.”
“He and I were together for a long time. We’re familiar.”
“He’s familiar, reasonable, and refined. But I’ve got a caveman mentality. When he put his hands on you, I wanted to rip out his throat. Mine are the only hands I want touching you.”
“You don’t have a claim.”
His eyes narrowed. “I kinda do.” He started walking toward her, and for each step forward he took, she took one back until she came up against her desk. “That unreasonable, unrefined fuck on your sofa gave me a claim.”

“This plan to ‘cancel it,’” he said, “how’s that working for you?”
“Not very well.”
He placed the heels of his hands on her hip bones and curved his fingers around her bottom. “For me either.”
In a hushed voice, she said, “I wish I still had it to look forward to.”
His eyes searched hers. “Do you remember it the way I do?”
“How do you remember it?”
“To tell you, I’d have to get really graphic.”
“Blushing terms?”
“Gutter terms.” He leaned in closer and whispered, “Wanna hear how tight you were?”
She closed her eyes momentarily. “Crawford.”

In a shockingly short time, she was gathering fistfuls of his shirt, then her hands moved up to his shoulders, where they held on, her fingers digging into the firm muscles. Her back arched and held in a silent plea for one more stroke…one more glide…one more… And she came.
The instant he felt her helpless clenching, he surrendered to his own climax. The intensity of it caused his arms to collapse. He settled heavily on top of her, pulsing inside her, his breath hot and damp against her neck as he groaned, “Christ, christ.”

“Crawford…”
The moaned admonishment was so halfhearted, he continued, kissing his way past her collarbone to her breast. He nuzzled the tip through the damp cloth of her t-shirt.
She exhaled a sharp breath. “I woke up this morning dreaming about it.”
He gently cupped her other breast. “Good dream?”
“Sinfully good.”
“Holly Spencer, bad girl.”
“I think you must be right. The dream was exactly as it happened. I was eager, and you were very…decisive.”
The smile he felt in his heart never quite reached his lips because they were lowering to hers. “I had to be inside you. Just had to be.”

It wasn’t until she groaned his name that he obliged her, but tantalizingly, applying his tongue so softly, so exquisitely that her breaths evolved into moans, and her body drew up tight. Attuned to her, he centered the caresses, concentrated them into ever-shrinking spirals, until the sensations painted onto her coalesced into a burst of pleasure so intense, she couldn’t contain it.
He levered himself up and, with one strong thrust, he was inside her, appeasing her craving to be stretched, filled. He trapped her orgasmic cries inside a kiss and then let her drift down and rest while he sipped at her earlobes, her eyelids, her lips.

He was stingy with the pressure of his thumb on the outside, drawing out the pleasure, holding off until she released a low keening, and then he curled his fingers forward inside her, creating a gentle squeeze between the two pressure points.
She clamped her lower lip between her teeth. Her back arched as she raised her hips and ground against his hand. Into her ear, he poured a litany of love words, sexy words, dirty words. Finally she coasted down, and her lazy eyes fluttered open.
He laid a soft, tender kiss on her lips. “Beautiful.”
“You are.” She reached up and pushed her fingers into his hair. “And much sweeter than you let on.”
“Me, sweet?”
“Hmm. With your daughter. With me.” She outlined the shape of his lips with her fingertip. “You’re not so tough.”
“Say things like that, you’ll ruin my reputation.”

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

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Partners in Crime by Anne Stuart

Format: E-bookpartnersincrime
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Anne Stuart’s Bad Boys, #4
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: Alexander Caldicott
Heroine: Jane Dexter
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: July 5, 2015
Started On: August 17, 2015
Finished On: August 17, 2015

Anne Stuart books are a treasure I keep, to indulge in between books, or whenever I hit a reading stump because there is no other author who scratches the reading itch as well as Anne Stuart does. Book 4 in her Bad Boy series, Partners in Crime is actually quite mellow compared to most of her stories. I wouldn’t label Alexander Caldicott (Sandy) as a bad boy. Nevertheless, in true Anne Stuart style, Sandy gives the sexy to the story in a way you can’t get enough of.

An erroneous caption in a newspaper leaves small town librarian Jane Dexter with the belief that Sandy is one of the shadiest criminals in the country, capable of committing the crime that she wants. When Jane knocks on the door of Sandy’s motel room, he can barely muster enough interest in her, that is before she opens her mouth, demanding him that he commit arson for her. Sandy’s view of Jane the minute he opens the motel door is definitely interesting enough to highlight.

“She was short, and he liked tall women. She had mousy brown hair, and he was partial to blondes. Her eyes were brown, too, and partially obscured by wire-rimmed glasses that gave her a faintly startled look. Her mouth was too generous, and so was her nose, and her clothes were drab, boring, the sort of things worn by a Midwestern librarian. She couldn’t have been much older than thirty, or much younger, either. He stood in the doorway, looking down at her, trying to summon up at least an ounce of polite interest.”

Jane believes that its just her rotten luck that the man who stirs in her a carnal interest of the type she had never felt before turns out to be the man who could actually fulfill her needs when it comes to committing crimes of the kind that could get her locked up for good. However, that doesn’t deter Jane from seeking him out and making a play to entice Sandy into working for her. Jane’s view of Sandy is just as fascinating as Sandy’s view of her, worthy of a mention.

“He was tall, a bit over six feet, and beautifully coordinated. His shoulders were just broad enough, his legs long, his hands, from what she could see from a distance, were well shaped. His hair was blond, probably lightened from hours on the deck of a yacht or racing around a tennis court, and his remaining tan set off features that were just this side of perfection. She hadn’t gotten close enough to see his eyes, but she knew they had to be perfect Aryan blue. His mouth was thin but sexy, his teeth very white, his cheekbones and jaw chiseled. He even had a perfect nose, damn him.”

When Jane turns up on Sandy’s doorstep, for the first time in weeks, hell, for the first time in months, Sandy feels alive, invigorated about the next day and what’s to come. Life had been losing all meaning for him of late, his career not giving him that jolt of satisfaction, his life seemingly a benign existence that he just wakes up to face every morning.

The adventure that Jane and Sandy embark upon is a hilarious one. True to Anne Stuart’s legendary style, the dialogues between Sandy and Jane are laugh out loud worthy at times. No two ways about it. Jane’s snarky attitude entices Sandy to get into her mind, to explore the curves that she hides behind the drab suits, the persona that she hides behind lest anyone take enough notice of her.

Sandy continues to live the lie that Jane believes him to be, and all along, these two fall in love, a love based on a lie that could have devastating consequences if and when Jane were to find out. But then again, Anne Stuart writes characters of the type that do not wallow in what cannot be changed and the ending with tiny bites of surprising aspects to it, gave the story a well rounded edge to it.

Like I said earlier on, I wouldn’t describe Sandy as the dark bad boys of the type that Anne Stuart is well known in the romance genre for. Sandy is sexy, smart, with a core of goodness and integrity to him that shines through as he tries to divert Jane from her bloodthirsty mission by any means possible. That doesn’t mean that Sandy doesn’t bring along the vitality to the story as required. He does that, in spades and I believe he was the right fit for the story under the circumstances. But then again, I keep envisioning a bit of an edgier Sandy, someone who forces Jane out of her shell with the “cruelty” that only heroes of that nature are capable of. Alas, that wasn’t meant to be in Partners in Crime.

Jane is a character who had come from one of those families that aren’t actually trying to be cruel, but ends up being just that towards one of their children. Jane had learnt long ago to expect her dues and move on. Never in a hundred years would she have expected to fall for a seedy criminal, but that is exactly what she thinks she has fallen for, in the process of committing the only crime she had ever wanted to commit in her straight and narrow life.

Sandy brings to Jane’s life, the color that had been missing in it. The sensations that she had never gotten to experience with another. The kind of feelings that she had always shunned because she thought they weren’t for someone like her. To find it with Sandy, to accept it, well, that’s the fun part of the story.

Recommended for fans of Anne Stuart. If you want one of her darker heroes, this won’t do any good. But nevertheless it does provide the sort of storytelling that only Anne Stuart can deliver.

Final Verdict: A bit more mellow than the usual, but just as sexy. Just as good!

Favorite Quotes

The feel of his hand on her breast, even through the lacy bra, shocked and aroused her. His mouth was on hers, wet, hot, seeking, his tongue and lips taking complete, unquestioning control of her and overwhelming any ounce of restraint she might have had. Too many emotions were batting at her, too much adrenaline, too much stimulation. She snaked her arms around his neck, pressed her breast against his hand and kissed him back, wanting nothing more than his mouth on hers, that desperate, erotic claiming that was shaking her to the very marrow of her bones.

“What would you call home?”
“The second floor of a run-down Victorian house in Baraboo, Wisconsin. I used to live in a boxy apartment but it drove me crazy.”
“Somehow I don’t see you as a Victorian.”
“Don’t you? I’ve been called prudish in my time.” She knew her voice sounded raw, but she hoped he wouldn’t notice.
Sandy noticed everything. “Who called you prudish? Your ex-husband?”
“Yes.”
“Does he have anything to do with your Victorian lifestyle?”
Jane sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t be so damned nosy. Why don’t we change the subject?”
“Lovely weather,” he said obediently enough.

He was darkness, powerful, sexual, wiping out the terrors of the night and the anguish of loss and betrayal, he was life and heat and desire, and he was everything she ever needed.

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him, and she was on fire, her hands desperate for the feel of his flesh beneath her, her mouth bold with deep, hurried kisses. He put his mouth on her breasts, and she arched her back like a cat in the intensity of her reaction, he slid his hand between her thighs and she shattered at his first gentle touch.
“Easy,” he whispered. “Easy now.” But she couldn’t, wouldn’t slow down. She was shaking all over, covered with a fine film of sweat, shivering and helpless as her needs raged out of control, unable to even say the words to beg him.

With a moan of fear and anticipation she sank down, guided by his hands on her hips, until he filled her. She let out a muffled cry at the unexpected feel of him, and the hands on her hips held her still, giving her time to accustom herself to his invasion. She bowed her head for a moment, absorbing the impact, and then she opened her eyes to meet his fierce gaze.
“I still don’t trust you,” she whispered, not giving an inch.
He grinned then, and his fingers dug into her hips as he slowly withdrew. “It doesn’t matter.” And he arched up, deep within her.

He reached down and held her hips, striving with unquestionable intent, and his mouth covered hers, his tongue in her mouth, a dual invasion. She was crying, she knew she was, she could feel her face wet with tears, but all she could feel was the man within her body, carrying her places she hadn’t even dreamed existed.
Suddenly his body tensed, and he lifted his head, his eyes glittering down into hers with a fierce intensity. She could feel the life, the love pumping into her, and then everything shattered around her, dissolving into a maelstrom of sensation and dark, dangerous release.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo

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