He’s dangerously sexy, insufferably arrogant, rude, and complicated as hell, yet what he reveals to her makes it impossible to stay angry and she can’t stop her growing desire for him.
The Montgomery Ink series continues with a forbidden love between three friends and a past that they can’t escape.
Jake Gallagher knew from the moment he saw Maya that she was the one for him—it had the same breath-taking intensity as when he’d first set eyes on Border. Only life never turns out the way one plans, and now he’s falling for someone else…or at least he thinks he is.
Maya Montgomery never should have looked past the friendship she already had. Now that she has, she can’t stop thinking about Jake and what he means to her. When a mysterious stranger from Jake’s past shows up at their door, she’s forced to admit that if she doesn’t take the risk of a lifetime, she’ll regret it for the rest of her days.
Border Gentry walked away without a second glance once because of what could happen if he let go, but now he’s back and ready to see what he’s missed. He’s been on the road a long time and has seen things no man should ever see, yet once he rediscovers the broody Jake and meets the inked and fierce Maya, they’re like a balm to his soul and he realizes what path his future should take.
It will take more than sizzling chemistry and a heat that never dies for the three of them to overcome their pasts. And when someone from the outside wants to stand in their way, it’s not only their hearts on the line…but also their lives.
Received a copy of this book for my honest review
I have been waiting for Maya’s book forever it seems and I know I say this with every Montgomery Ink book, but I can’t help it they are that good!!!
I have loved Maya’s character since she was first introduced, take charge women who does what she loves and doesn’t take crap from anyone, what’s not to love. However I’ve also been waiting for this strong woman to show her vulnerable side and I’ve finally got it. Seeing her unsure and angsty is great, it shows that this superwoman is human too.
With Maya we’ve also seen her Best Friend Jake around. Hot, artistic, inked and bearded. Hmmm, soooo yummy!! He’s been by Maya’s side through thick and thin. The adopted Gallagher in the Montgomery family.
Now we are introduced to Border. Holy heck Border!! Big, protective, Border. He left town when he and Jake were young, even though they loved each other, because he thought he was protecting him. Now he’s back for Jake and he wants to know all about Maya!!
I feel so bad for Jake’s girl friend Holly, she was introduced in the last book, because she realizes that though she wants to love Jake they don’t belong together because Jake loves Maya and even though she hasn’t said or even shown it she loves him too. Holly needs a Montgomery or a Gallagher of her own!! Hint, hint!!
I love when Ryan writes about a triad, she does it so beautifully. You can really see the three separate couples becoming one. Jake and Maya, Jake and Border, and finally Border and Maya. They all have to find their way around the new dynamic of what each of their relationships are and also become one. They do it so well, not by hot heavy bedroom action, hello that helps, but by taking it day by day.
Jake realizing he’s not the brother looking in from the outside with his family is great and HELLO Gallagher Brothers, I can not wait to read more of each of you!!
Maya and Jake finally getting together after all these years makes all their friends say “About time!” Border coming in doesn’t take anything away from Maya and Jake story, it’s like he’s is what was missing; to quote Maya “He completes us”.
End in the the triad learns that for a future together they have to do more communicating and that is what any relationship needs to be able to go the distance.
I know I said it at beginning of this review but I’m going to say it again, I can not wait for Alex’s book!!
Oh, and more of those yummy Gallagher brothers!!!
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Carrie Ann Ryan never thought she’d be a writer. Not really. No, she loved math and science and even went on to graduate school in chemistry. Yes, she read as a kid and devoured teen fiction and Harry Potter, but it wasn’t until someone handed her a romance book in her late teens that she realized that there was something out there just for her. When another author suggested she use the voices in her head for good and not evil, The Redwood Pack and all her other stories were born.
Carrie Ann is a bestselling author of over twenty novels and novellas and has so much more on her mind (and on her spreadsheets *grins*) that she isn’t planning on giving up her dream anytime soon
A Wishing Moon: Moon Magic
Arabella Landry is a witch on a mission.
She is desperately seeking for the incredible lover that has been setting her dreams on fire. With the help of the powerful women in her family, she finds him. Unfortunately, he is completely paralyzed from a devastating rock-climbing accident.
Jade Landale, a conservative Texas Congressman falls head over heels for the beautiful woman that refuses to give up on him. Soon, his world turns topsy turvy as he finds himself embroiled in a world of magic, murder and the hottest, sweetest love-making imaginable.
Slipping down the stairs, she hoped she did not run into anybody between her room and Jade’s. She didn’t think she could stand any comments from her mother about her choice of sleeping attire. Another thing she felt thankful for was the location of the room they would be sleeping in. Thankfully, they were on a different floor and at opposite end of the house from where the rest of the family slept.
She hesitated at the door. Her nerves were on edge and her body was tingling, readying itself for his possession. Already, her breasts were swelling and both nipples were as hard as rocks. She couldn’t wait to be in his arms again. Taking the doorknob in her hand, she held it for a moment and then slowly opened the door. When she entered the room, Jade waited, already in the bed. Leaning back against the headboard, propped up by two or three soft pillows, he looked like a dream. With no shirt on, the soft light of the lamp accentuated his broad shoulders and golden skin. After finding out he had a Cherokee grandparent, the color and smoothness of his skin made sense. He held the covers back and patted the mattress in invitation.
Crossing to the bed, she removed her robe and swiftly crawled under the covers. He eased down in the bed and turned on his side and facing her. “You are so beautiful, Arabella.”
She lowered her eyes, unable to breathe if she continued to share his gaze. His eyes were looking into her very soul. “No, you are beautiful, Jade. I have never known anyone who makes me feel the way you do.”
“How many men am I competing with, sweetheart?” he asked in a soft, gentle tone.
“What do you mean?”
“How many men are you dating? I’m sure there is a whole slew of them just beating your door down, all wanting the privilege of your company.”
“There is no one.” Now that the truth would be revealed, he probably wouldn’t be as interested in her.
“I’m sorry, Jade. I don’t have very much experience with men.” Her voice shook slightly and she closed her eyes waiting for his reaction. How could she tell him the local boys had all been afraid of her, or at least afraid of the ridicule they would endure by dating the town witch?
Light, soft, sweet kisses began raining on her eyes and her cheeks. “Why are you sorry, Bella? Don’t you know how exciting it is for a man to find out his woman hasn’t known many other men?”
“Not exactly what I meant,” Arabella stammered. God, this was hard.
“Quit worrying, Arabella,” Jade assured her. “The other men are history. You’re here with me now.”
“No, Jade.” She grabbed the hand caressing her neck and lightly playing over the top of her full breasts. He wasn’t making this easy. “The only man I have ever made love to is you—in our dreams.” She waited for his reaction. What if he didn’t want a twenty-four year-old virgin?
* * * *
The next second, he pulled her to him and wrapped both arms securely around her. “You are the sweetest thing. Don’t you understand how this makes me feel? To find out the sexiest, most responsive, most luscious woman I have ever known has never felt the touch of another man? You are mine! You belong to me!” Jade kissed her deeply. His tongue mated with hers. The taste of her lips intoxicated him. He could feel his erection growing stronger and stronger and he wanted to shout for joy! He’d prayed he would regain the full use of his manhood, but he had enough sense to know there were thousands of nerve endings, which all had to work perfectly between his brain and his penis. Last night, when he had lain with Arabella, the brain had been willing but the flesh had been weak. Now, there was absolutely no doubt. He had a raging hard-on. He tore his mouth from hers and laid his head on her shoulder. He had to slow down or he would come and their lovemaking session would be over faster than he wanted.
The doctor had also cautioned him about overusing his back. He’d said the movements and stress of penetration were not wise as of yet. He’d told Jade to wait and see if he could even have an erection, before they crossed the next bridge. Well, that particular question had been answered.
Arabella misinterpreted his change of pace. She pulled back slightly. “Did I do something wrong?” she whispered.
“Baby, oh baby—everything about you is just right. I want you so badly. The doctor said I had to take it slow, but I am about to burst. I’ll be all right in a moment.” His breathing sounded harsh.
“May I, Jade?” Arabella pressed on his shoulder until he laid down flat. “I may not kiss you just right, but I’d like to try.”
He groaned in anticipation. She nipped his shoulder lightly and softly. She spread a light trail of hot kisses over his pectoral muscles, and then down the sculpted washboard of his abs, which were trembling and jerking with the knowledge of what was to come. Arabella pushed the covers down to his knees. He wore nothing underneath and his erection stood tall and engorged—straight as an arrow and vibrating with the sheer fervor of his carnal appetite.
“You are magnificent!” she whispered. With trembling hesitancy, she wrapped one small, warm hand around his thick shaft, as far as she could reach. God, it felt good! Jade thought he would explode before she even got started. Her hair brushed his loins and the anticipation of her lips on his sex was driving him mad. He refused to rush her, but the wait for her lips caused every fiber of his body to stand at complete attention. Ah, she lowered her head and her mouth touched him. He almost levitated off the bed with the pure pleasure of the feel of her lips and tongue on his body.
Sable Hunter is a New York Times, USA Today bestselling author of nearly 50 books in 7 series. She writes sexy contemporary stories full of emotion and suspense. Her focus is mainly cowboy and novels set in Louisiana with a hint of the supernatural. Sable writes what she likes to read and enjoys putting her fantasies on paper. Her books are emotional tales where the heroine is faced with challenges. Her aim is to write a story that will make you laugh, cry and swoon. If she can wring those emotions from a reader, she has done her job. Sable resides in Austin, Texas with her two dogs. Passionate about all animals, she has been known to charm creatures from a one ton bull to a family of raccoons. For fun, Sable haunts cemeteries and battlefields armed with night-vision cameras and digital recorders hunting proof that love survives beyond the grave. Welcome to her world of magic, alpha heroes, sexy cowboys and hot, steamy to-die-for sex. Step into the shoes of her heroines and escape to places where right prevails, love conquers all and holding out for a hero is not an impossible dream
Sara Adams awakes blind, unable to remember the most basic details of her life, but her darkness seems a blessing when she discovers the terrors of The Light.
Stella Montgomery investigates the news on the mean streets of Detroit, where she’s noticed a disturbing trend: young women are vanishing. When her best friend disappears, Stella investigates—despite warnings from her police detective boyfriend—following a twisted trail that leads her through the city’s most dangerous and forsaken precincts. There she uncovers something more sinister than she could have imagined: a shadowy organization known as The Light, led by the enigmatic Father Gabriel.
As Sara struggles to understand her place in the strange world she’s awakened to—an oppressive cult demanding unquestioning obedience—and her feelings for Jacob, the husband she can’t recall and whose harsh and tender attentions confuse and beguile her, Stella risks all to discover the truth. But enlightenment always comes with a price…
I received a copy of this book from Netgalley for an honest review.
OMG My heart is beating like mad outta my chest. AHHH. I need people. I need a support group. I need to TALK ABOUT THIS BOOK!! Now all of you people who love Aleatha’s dark stuff…this isn’t really dark and not the DARK DARK like her other books. As I told my scaredy pants bestie, this is a book you can read. This book is a mystery and suspense. I kept turning the pages to know “Why?” or “Who?” and then it was “but are they bad?” or even “ but why are they doing it?” This book kept me going. When I THOUGHT I had stuff figured out…BOOM I was wrong and then the new twist made me read even harder and faster. BOOM another bombshell and I kinda thought maybe I know where this will be headed but wow was I so off base and ugh….SEE Support group is needed. People you need to know what is my head and it needs to come out…..do you know how hard this review is going to be!!????? Spoiler Free it shall be but OMG PEOPLE!!! BUY THE BOOK and then PLEASE for the love of Father Gabriel and The Light, talk to me!!!
I FLoved the book and how we had multiple POV’s because honestly you need them. I loved reading Sara’s struggle to understand why if she is a member of The Light then why is her memory gone? Then reading Stella’s parts of the story and her desperate need to find her best friend who disappeared out of nowhere.
The story flows sooooo well and you learn which characters to be weary. You also learn quickly who is good and who is not good. Who to trust and who to conceal your truths from.
Aleatha Romig is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Indiana. She grew up in Mishawaka, graduated from Indiana University, and is currently living south of Indianapolis. Aleatha has raised three children with her high school sweetheart and husband of nearly thirty years. Before she became a full-time author, she worked days as a dental hygienist and spent her nights writing. Now, when she’s not imagining mind-blowing twists and turns, she likes to spend her time a with her family and friends. Her other pastimes include reading and creating heroes/anti-heroes who haunt your dreams!
Aleatha released her first novel, CONSEQUENCES, in August of 2011. CONSEQUENCES became a bestselling series with five novels and two companions released from 2011 through 2015. The compelling and epic story of Anthony and Claire Rawlings has graced more than half a million e-readers.
Aleatha released the first of her series TALES FROM THE DARK SIDE, INSIDIOUS, in the fall of 2014. These stand alone thrillers continue Aleatha’s twisted style with an increase in heat.
In the fall of 2015, Aleatha moved head first into the world of dark romance with the release of BETRAYAL, the first of her five novel INFIDELITY series. She also began her traditional publishing career with Thomas and Mercer. Her books INTO THE LIGHT and AWAY FROM THE DARK will be published through this mystery/thriller publisher in 2016.
Aleatha is a “Published Author’s Network” member of the Romance Writers of America and represented by Danielle Egan-Miller of Browne & Miller Literary Associates.
London’s square mile is witness to a revolution, a new breed of business woman. They call us tiger sharks. We out-earn, out-work and out-play our male counterparts. We work the system, play the game and most importantly, win. In a city full of sharks only the most ruthless make it to the top of the pool.
The number one rule: never sleep with the boss. Ever. I had no intention of breaking it until I met my new boss. No matter how strong my resolve, Landon Banks can smell weakness like a shark smells blood in the water, and I’m bleeding.
The hunter becomes the hunted, lines start to blur, and I have a choice to make. Screw or be screwed. Of course, I never was much good at taking it like a bitch. Landon Banks will be learning to grab his ankles if I have anything to do with it.
Things are about to get interesting in the game of predator versus predator. Who will come out on top?
Masque is where the darkest of creatures come to play, to fulfil warped desires without judgement or persecution. After all, you can’t judge what you can’t see.
I slip the mask out of my hand bag and tie the ribbons at the back of my head, pinning them into my hair with some grips. I knock on the door of what looks like a respectable and extremely expensive town house in the centre of London’s most affluent area. The door opens, revealing a guy in a black suit, a plain black mask covering his eyes. He glances at my membership card and he waves me through.
Inside it looks exactly how you’d expect a high end sex club to look. Dark, luxurious, sensual. Rock music fills the room, contrasting wildly with the velvet chaise lounges and crystal chandeliers. Within the club, people resume a new identity. Their masks become their identity. Mine looks like a cat, the faint stripes of a tiger painted along the delicate lines that outline my face and accentuate my sharp cheekbones. There’s a certain thrill in hiding, because in hiding who I am, it allows me to be who I really am. I come here for one reason, to be liberated on every level.
I go to the bar and perch on a stool, crossing my legs and allowing my short black dress to ride up my thigh. The waiter slides a martini in front of me and I thank him. I allow my gaze to drift around the room, shopping, because everyone in here is on the menu. My gaze stops on a guy sitting on one of the sofas, his fingers buried in the pussy of the woman straddling him. His mask is distinctive, made of white porcelain and depicting a Greek god. I know from experience that he has a body like a god as well. Sometimes I like to be surprised by a new partner, but other times I like to know that I’m going to be satisfied. Apollo as I call him, always satisfies my more aggressive appetites, and tonight I feeling positively savage after my interaction with Banks. There’s nothing like a powerful man to make my inner alpha bitch rear her head with bared teeth.
I down the martini and stand, swaying my hips a little as I make my way to Apollo. He looks up, his eyes meeting mine through the mask that covers his eyes and nose. His lips kick up slightly on one side as he assesses me with a cockiness I’ve come to expect of him. The woman moans, her fingers clinging to his shoulders and scratching over the material of his open shirt.
“Come.” I say to him.
“Well, it would be rude not to finish the lady.” He says, humour lacing his voice.
I tilt my head to the side and study the girl, her long blonde hair cascades down her bare back as she throws her head back. I step close to her and grab a handful of her hair, fisting it. She moans, pushing her chest out. He watches me intensely as his bicep tenses, his fingers sinking deeper inside her.
I bend over, dropping my face into the crook of her neck and placing a kiss to her soft skin before sweeping my tongue up the side of her throat. Her breath hitches and she trembles gently. I lift my eyes to meet his, and I see the spark of lust in them, the need eating away at him as I wrench her head back even further and slide my free hand down her chest, pinching her nipple between my thumb and index finger. She bucks and writhes, moaning like a wanton slut as she rides his hand.
“Fuck.” He says, completely enraptured by the sight of her coming apart under our combined touch. When she’s done, he practically throws her off him and rises to his feet. My eyes instantly hone in on the bulge straining against the material of his trousers. His shirt remains open, the hard planes of his stomach on display. I jerk my head towards the stairs and he follows me without question.
This house has twenty rooms, each one identical to the other. For those who like their play a little rougher, there’s the basement which houses a dungeon. I have certain tastes, but they don’t venture into ‘chain me up and beat me’ territory.
We pass a line of doors, all with a red ribbon tied on the door. These are the occupied rooms, although some people don’t bother with the ribbon in the hope that someone walks in on them. Each to their own. Then of course there are those who like to be watched, like that girl, they just fuck in one of the many public rooms downstairs.
I push open the door and step inside, watching him close it behind him with a resounding click.
I take slow steps backwards into the room, until a chaise bumps the backs of my knees. He pushes his shirt over his shoulders and allows it to fall to the floor. Apollo is a good looking guy, and he’s utterly shameless. He likes sex anyway he can get it, and if it makes him come, he’s game, the harder the better, any means necessary.
I reach behind me and lower the zip on my dress, shrugging the straps off my shoulders and allowing the material to pool at my ankles, exposing my bra.
Of course with that mask, I can’t make out his expression clearly. It makes him seem hard and implacable. For some reason it makes me think of Landon. It shouldn’t be a turn on but it is.
I step out of the dress at my feet and hook my thumbs into my knickers. I pause for a second, call it dramatic effect if you like, before slowly sliding them down my legs. Still he doesn’t make a move or breathe a sound.
Lowering myself onto the chaise lounge behind me, I smile and beckon him forward with a crook of my finger. He obliges, crossing the room and coming to a halt right in front of me. I reach up and trail my fingers down his firm stomach before I unfasten his trousers and shove them down his thighs, exposing his hard cock just inches from my face. I’ll suck dick like a pro when the feeling strikes me, but right now, it doesn’t.
“Get on your knees.” I command. He steps out of the material at his feet, kicking off his shoes and socks quickly before he does as I say and gets on his knees, completely naked in front of me. I reach behind me and unhook my bra, sliding it down my arms slowly. He watches my every move as I strip, until I’m left wearing nothing but my Louboutins.
I trail my fingers over my thighs and slowly spread my legs open. Wide open. His eyes lock on my pussy and I see his breaths pick up with the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
“Kiss me.” I say quietly.
He doesn’t hesitate as he grips the insides of my thighs with both hands and leans in. I feel his hot breath hit my pussy before his lips do, brushing gently across my clit. I bite my lip and lean back, raking my nails into the unforgiving material beneath me. His fingers dig into the sensitive skin of my thighs as he lashes me with his tongue. This is why I pick him. No questions, no bullshit, just pleasure and compliance. He works his tongue over my clit until I’m trembling, lingering on that beautiful precipice and just waiting to go tumbling off the edge. One more flick of his tongue, and I break, rolling my hips against his mouth as I ride out the orgasm. After shocks ripple through my torso as I lean my head against the back of the chaise, trying to catch my breath. I close my eyes, a small smile on my lips, because that was good, but what’s about to come is even better. Sex is about physical and mental satisfaction, and I like to release in every way before I leave this club.
My eyes flash open as I drag myself upright. His hands are still on my thighs and my orgasm is all over his lips. I close my legs, pushing to my feet and dragging a hand through my hair as I step around him. He doesn’t move. I go to my discarded hand bag and take out my favourite toy, also know as The Destroyer. I clip the harness in place around my pelvis and yank the straps tight- don’t want it slipping now. This club is extremely accommodating, and I browse the shelf that’s mounted in the corner, browsing over the range of lubes. I pick up one called Sex Water, the slogan written on the bottle reads; ‘for when spit and courage isn’t enough’. It couldn’t be more apt.
Apollo glances over his shoulder, watching as I move toward him with the big purple cock protruding from between my hips.
He smirks. “You could at least suck a guy’s dick first.”
I laugh as I move beside him, raking my fingers through his short hair. “You know I make you come harder with a cock in your arse.”
He shrugs. “True.” The thing about coming to a sex club is that all the taboo’s that are unacceptable outside this room, are completely acceptable inside it. Apollo likes a dick in his arse. He likes me to fuck him. He gets off on it. Simple. Apollo gets an orgasm out of it, and me? I get to plough the fuck out of a guy. I get to own him and make him my bitch for the small amount of time that I’m in here with him. Trust me, to a girl who is constantly bowing and scraping to men inside the office, fucking him is extremely empowering.
“Stand up and bend over.” I order
He stands up and bends over, grabbing the back of the chaise lounge firmly. “Spread your legs.” I tell him and he does without hesitation.
His cheeks spread and I get a view of his waxed balls and arsehole. I guess if you’re into this kind of shit then you need to make sure the grass is cut.
I squirt a generous helping of lube on The Destroyer, before putting some on my finger and smearing it along his crack, pressing against his hole slightly and going lower until I cup his balls, rolling them in the palm of my hand. He moans as I squeeze them gently and then release them.
I grab his hips, his hot skin burning against my fingers as I line up the purple cock and push forward, pressing against him until the tip of it disappears inside him. He drops his head forward, a ragged gasp leaving his lips as I push just a little more. I wait, letting him adjust. When I feel him relax completely, I slam home until my thighs brush the backs of his. A choked groan fills the air as he pants heavily, trying to catch his breath.
“Take it.” I tell him, my voice laced with warning. Of course he’s twice my size, and could tell me to fuck off easily, but he won’t, because this is what he likes, and I give it to him.
I give him a few seconds and then I move, pulling out and thrusting back in slowly. “Fuck.” He hisses, his back muscles tensing and rolling beneath his skin. I drag my nails over his back, relishing in the way he shivers, and then I grip his hips and I fuck him. Hard. The straps of the toy rub against my clit and a low moan escapes my lips. I fuck him until a thin sheen of sweat covers my body and he’s pushing back against me, panting and groaning whilst he fists his cock with one hand, his arm jerking furiously. I slow the pace, thrusting deeper, harder. He lets out a long guttural groan as every muscle tenses and then quivers violently. I keep going, fucking him until he’s begging me to stop, slamming his hand on the back of the chaise like he’s tapping out, and then I pull out of him. His legs give way and collapses, laying on his back on the thick carpet, breathing heavily. His come is all over the chaise and the carpet, and I smile with a strange sort of satisfaction at having made such a mess.
I go to the adjoining en-suite and take the strap-on off, rinsing it in the sink. When I walk back into the room, Apollo has climbed to his feet and is getting dressed. He looks a little worse for wear, but then he always does and yet he always comes back for more the next week. I pick my dress up before slipping it back on, fastening the zip and turning to check my reflection in the mirror beside the door. I straighten my mask slightly, throw the strap-on in my hand bag before I stride out of the room without a backward glance.
This is what I do every Friday night. It’s my release and at times my salvation, hell, I’d even call it therapy. We all find different ways of coping with the stress of life, this is mine.
About the Author:
Lauren Lovell is an indie author from England.
She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologise for afterwards.
Lauren is a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy.
LP loves to hear from readers so please get in touch.
Release Date: June 21, 2016
Genre: Young Adult, Contemporary Romance
Cassidy James was your average seventeen-year-old girl, and senior in high school. She came from a traditional family with conventional morals and values. She was a friend to everyone, and an enemy to no one.
Cassidy James was so much more. Her hair flowed down her back like an angel’s would. Her eyes were so beautiful that they matched the color of the sea. Cassidy simply was the epitome of perfection. The only problem was when it came to Cassidy James…
We were just friends.
Through my addiction for reading, I’ve discovered my passion for writing. I’m a hopeless romantic, and love reading and writing about it.
One drunken night a nameless one-night stand changes everything for Alison Tanner. Her world suddenly turns on its side, and she has a whole other person to consider. One that will rely on her for everything and love her unconditionally. One that will cause her more guilt that she can imagine because she can’t answer the most important question of all… where’s my daddy?
Time passes and Ally moves on, finding love in one of the most unlikely places. But things are never that simple. What happens when the nameless stranger comes walking back into their lives? How will this affect their child, and is this new love strong enough to weather the storm?
Our hearts don’t always want what’s easy. Sometimes they send us on a path that will eventually break us. Which path will Ally choose, and who awaits her at the end of that journey? Join Ally and the rest of the gang in Broken Pieces, the final book in The Broken Series.
She currently lives in Central New York with her husband, two children, two dogs, and three cats. When she’s not writing she can usually be found at the dance studio, soccer field, or one of the many other places that she plays ‘Supermom’.
Not just back in town, but living in the flat right beneath mine. And he looks good enough to eat, which is just one more reason to stay away from him.
But I can’t resist.
The sex is incredible (pretty sure we’ve shaken the house right off its foundation), but he can’t fool me—not this time. A degree in marketing and five years in advertising have taught me that “true love” is a fairy tale used to sell lipstick, diamonds, and perfume. It doesn’t exist.
He thinks I’m wrong, and he wants to prove it.
I think he’s crazy, so I dare him to try.
It might be the biggest mistake of my life.
Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she’s not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, House of Cards, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.
Melanie is the author of the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.
My name is Whitney Dawson, and I suck at love. I’m not exaggerating. My relationships don’t just end; they die a horrible, agonizing death.
With a nasty break up behind me, and my mind made up to avoid relationships like the plague, I try to enjoy a girls’ night out with my best friend Lindsey. That’s where I meet Aidan. Despite my reservations, I agree to one mind-blowing, amazing, curl your toes night with the hottest guy I’ve barely met, knowing full well that I’ll never see him again. Or so I think…
As a teacher with a new school year in full swing, I contact a parent about a new student and end up face to face with Aidan. His son is in my class, and avoiding this widowed dad, and any complicated emotional entanglements falling for him will bring, becomes a test I may very well fail.
Should I take the cowardly way out, or give love one more chance?
I received this book for an honest review.
This was my first time reading an Amy Hale story. I enjoyed getting to know her characters and her writing style. She had me turning the pages and I really liked the characters.
Whitney never had luck with relationships. She had survived a bad break up. Her an her friend Lindsey decided it was time for Whitney to go out and let her hair down and be a free spirit for the night. No holding back find a guy, have a great night then leave and never see him again. That is what a one night stand was and that is what she did, one night and then back to her single life as a school teacher.
Aiden is a single dad doing his best with his son. When the teacher at the new school Caleb is attending calls wanting to meet to discuss his son well you can imagine his surprise when we walks in and sees who his teacher is. Yes, that’s right the one and only Whitney the one that left him early one morning no words just snuck out on him after a great night. He has a second chance to catch her this time if he can keep her from running.
Whitney is stunned to see her one night of fun standing in front of her waiting to talk about one of her students. There is chemistry between these two but it is difficult for Whitney to accept because one she was never to see him again and two she cannot date a student’s parent. Can she overcome these and give Aiden a chance.
I so enjoyed Lindsay and Whitney’s relationships and the way Whitney and Aiden were always going back and forth. I loved how caring Whitney was with her kiddo’s and the bond she had with Caleb was great. I really wanted more more Whitney and Aiden and even Lindsey.
Amy started her writing career in 2003 with non-fiction and educational pieces, but decided to take the leap to fiction in 2014. Her whiteboard is full of crazy ideas and she’s always plotting new projects. She’s a hopeless romantic and adores all the various ways a love story can be told. Amy also loves mystery, humor, suspense, and other action filled stories, so her goal is to blend the action with romance and keep you on your toes. Learn more at authoramyhale.com
New York Times bestselling author Jasinda Wilder presents the second darkly seductive novel starring the mysterious Madame X.
Everything Madame X has ever known is contained within the four walls of the penthouse owned by her lover, her keeper, the man who controls her every move and dominates her desires. While Caleb owns her body, someone else has touched her soul. X’s awakening at the hands of Logan’s raw, honest masculinity has led her down a new path, one that is as exciting as it is terrifying.
But Caleb’s need to own her completely knows no bounds, and he isn’t about to let her go. Not without a fight that could destroy them all…
I am naked; you are clothed.
The way it always is, it seems. Do you keep me naked merely because you enjoy the sight of my nude body? Or is it another form of control, of manipulation? A way of keeping me contained, keeping me captive? Some of both, I think. When I am naked—which is often, now that I live with you in your cavernous tower-top home—your eyes flit and float to me, rake over me, absorb my dusky flesh and athletic curves. Your eyes are always on me, even when you are working. Your eyes move from your laptop to me, pause on the elegant column of my throat, slip and slide down to the valley between my heavy breasts, to the flat plain of my belly, the juncture between my thighs, and then you, somewhat reluctantly, it sometimes seems, force your gaze back to your work.
Life with Caleb Indigo: a concerto of keyboard keys clicking and clacking, an overture of gazes and glances. You are always working. Always. I wake at midnight in the morning to the sound of your phone ringing—your ringer is a plain, old-fashioned bleating of a rotary-style phone—and you answer it with a curt “Indigo,” and you listen carefully, intently, and then respond in as few syllables as possible, end the call, toss the phone onto the nightstand close to hand, and tug me roughly up against your chest. Four a.m.: you jab your legs into slacks, shrug into a button-down, fingers nimble on the buttons, announce that you have business to see to, and then you do not return till three in the morning or four or even six, when you appear looking haggard and unshaven with dark circles under your eyes. But then, I, anticipating your return, am awake. And you know this.
And you stand at my side of the bed, staring down at me, waiting. I roll over, gaze up at you. Slowly, you divest yourself of your clothing. Your gaze will not leave me, and perhaps you slide the flat sheet away to bare my form. I cannot help but notice the way the zipper of your slacks tents and tautens as you gaze at me. And I am, in that moment, flushed with desire.
I cannot help it.
And I do try. Just to see if I have found some new source of self-control where you are concerned.
But the result is always the same: I see you, watch you peel the shirt off, unbutton it quickly, swing your arms back to pinch your shoulder blades together, and the shirt falls away. Your torso is bare, magnificent, a sculpture of tanned, muscled perfection. My throat will tighten and I am compelled to swallow again and again, as if I could swallow down my need for you. And then my gaze will rake down your furrowed eight-pack abdomen to your groin, to your bulging zipper, and my thighs clench around the gush of heated need. My breath comes in panting gasps.
I don’t need to say anything.
You unhook the clasp of your trousers, pinch the zipper tab in your big thumb and long forefinger, slowly draw it down. Free your erection. It will sway in front of my face, tall and hard and perfect.
And I am undone.
Any will I possess is eradicated.
Your hands will be rough on my flesh, scraping, teasing, possessing. And I will revel in that roughness, in the clutch of hard hands on my buttocks, tugging me to the end of the bed and holding me aloft as you plunge into me, eliciting a whimper.
And I will come apart for you, watching the tendons in your neck pulse and tighten, watching your abdomen flex, watching your hips drive, watching your biceps ripple as you keep me held effortlessly where you want me.
And you will come, too, but never quickly. Never until I have reached my own climax. And sometimes not until I have reached it twice. If I do not find that release with the driving and thrust of your body, you press that big thumb to my clitoris and force me to it with gentle, skillful, insistent circles as if you somehow just know precisely how to pleasure me.
When you do find your own release, it is quiet, an intense groan, perhaps a bead of sweat trickling down your temple, as if even your sweat obeys the rule of artfulness that seems to dictate your existence.
And then, done with me, you will brush a thumb over my temple, sweep flyaway locks of raven-black hair aside, grant me a moment of eye contact, a moment of personal connection. Just a moment, only a fragment of time. But something, at least. As if you know I need those moments to continue this . . . game.
This faux-domestic relationship.
Without those moments of intimacy granted in that postcoital gaze, I would combust. Detonate.
And even with them, I am discontent. Disturbed.
You know it.
I know it.
But we do not speak of it. I try, and you brush it aside, sweep the conversation away like so much dust from a corner. Answer a phone call, claim to have a meeting to scurry off to, an e-mail to answer, a deal to broker.
Ok, so I went into this one knowing that it would end on a cliffy… I mean, it’s the second book in a trilogy for fuck sake… but I’m still reeling from it! Damn it Jasinda! I want more! I need more! I grieve for X, I pine for Logan, and I plot for Caleb’s demise. This story is unusual and profound. You won’t want to miss it!
At the end of the first installment, Madame X, I have to admit I still kind of had hope for Caleb. I wanted to see him become the man I knew he could be. He teetered on the brink of evil, but always seemed to redeem himself at every turn. I’m not so sure he’s redeemable anymore. He has fallen down too many times to get back to where he needs to be. I guess anyone can change, but at this point, in my heart Caleb is dead to me! DEAD I TELL YOU!!!
Logan is still a breath of fresh air. He seems genuine and kind at the moment, but we all know shit can get pretty hairy in just the matter of a chapter or two. So far so good though. I know he means well where X is concerned, but sometimes I think he may be laying it on a little thick at times. I, myself would have been awfully overwhelmed by his presence and his need to fix everything. He does still make me swoon though!
X is still finding things out about herself. Good things, shocking things, and things she can’t explain. Caleb is still a lying sack of shit when it comes to what really happened to her and Logan seems to be an open book divulging anything and everything he can get his hands on that pertains to her. Now that she’s knows one of the most basic things about herself, she wants to transform to that person she now knows and not be X anymore. Who can blame her? My heart still breaks for her and I can’t wait to read the last installment, Exiled so that maybe reading her parts will make my heart sore instead of wilt.
It’s a well written book. The dialogue flows perfectly and the storyline is wonderful. The characters, good or bad were exceedingly powerful and kept me on the edge of my seat though most of it. From cover to cover you’ll be offered tons of excitement, loads of angst, and some of the longest sex scenes I think you’ll ever read. Oh. So. Hot. I loved it with my whole heart and can’t wait to see how this all plays out. Bravo Jasinda. You rocked it!
READING ORDER – Exiled coming 8.2.2016
About the author:
Jasinda Wilder is a New York Times, USA Today, Wall Street Journal, and international bestselling author. She is a Michigan native and currently lives there with her family. Visit her official website at jasindawilder.com.