Showing posts with label Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Review. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 2, 2016

Blog Tour: Set the Pace by Kim Karr

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Set the pace FOR WEB
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Every city needs a hero, but Detroit’s white knight just might be a villain.

A rough childhood branded Jasper Storm trouble. A bad boy. Not worth a damn. His love of cars was the only thing that could battle his delinquency. With the need for speed in his blood, he overcame his wayward ways. Mostly. All grown up, the broken city of Detroit hails him their shining star. And the man behind a new cutting-edge automobile is ready to turn this bankrupt town around.

Everything he does in life is fast. He talks fast, f*cks fast, and drives fast. But when one reckless turn brings him face-to-face with the childhood he has tried very hard to forget, he finds himself on the edge of wondering if he shouldn’t slow down.

Charlotte Lane was the tomboy who lived next door. She was his best friend. He was her protector. Then tragedy struck and she disappeared, forever—or so he thought.

Jasper has many reasons to hate Charlotte and keep his distance, but she’s infiltrating his every thought and he can’t stay away. Back in town with an agenda of her own, she should push him aside. Make him turn around. Walk away herself. Yet she can't.

With the past lurking between them, they proceed with caution. That is until one sex-filled night leads to murder. When Detroit’s biggest ally suddenly becomes suspect number one, will Charlotte—the girl Jasper once kept safe—be the one to save him?

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STP - White Knight - Dual (1)

EXCERPT


Set the Pace
Excerpt
© 2016 by Kim Karr

 Charlotte Lane
Buzz. Buzz.
Startled, I jump and quickly place the frame back in its place.
Buzz. Buzz.
It’s the call button from the lobby. I’m not sure what to do. I should probably ask Jasper if he is expecting anyone before I let whomever it is up.
The hallway he disappeared down is fairly long and at the end are two doors. Both are slightly ajar. I can hear the shower running and music playing. I try to place the song. Just as I go to knock, I pause, and then grin, it’s Led Zeppelin—the same music that used to blare from his garage when he was out there with his father.
Somehow in my absentminded quandary, my fingertips have nudged the door open just enough that I can see inside the bathroom. Perfectly. In my direct line of sight is a huge glass wall and he is just beyond it.
My pulse is beating so hard I can feel it pounding at all my pulse points. I should leave. I don’t need to bother Jasper. Whoever it is buzzing to come up can just come back later. Yet, I can’t move. Or maybe it’s more like I don’t want to move.
Steam hovers in the air but there’s not nearly enough to obscure anything. And there he is, naked in the water, head bent as it sluices over him. His eyes are closed. One hand is on the wall. The other slides slowly down his belly and lands between his thighs.
Oh, God.
Now I really can’t move. I’m frozen in place. His hand is on his cock. I swallow the noise my throat tries to make, but I’m sure I don’t do a good job of it. Thank you, Jesus, he doesn’t seem to notice. No, he definitely doesn’t notice because oh, my God, now he’s stroking himself. Slowly. Deliciously. Up, then down, and a twist of his palm around the head of his cock.
I shouldn’t be watching this, and yet I can’t look away. This is private. For him only, and yet I have to wonder if it’s because of me. Is it his attraction to me that made him step back just moments ago? Made him have to relieve the desire he was feeling? Then why did he say he wouldn’t kiss me again?
When he moves his wrist faster, I have to stifle my sudden harsh breath with my hand. My eyes are glued to his body and although I should leave, I can’t. I just can’t. Jasper, doing this to himself, is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my life. The only thing stopping me from reaching between my own legs is my perverted fascination with wanting to watch him come. Oh, and of course the terror of getting caught.
His mouth opens, water filling it and overflowing when he tips his face into the spray. I want so much to be in there with him, share the water, and feel that mouth on my body, but I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen. We seem to be dancing around the attraction we feel for each other. Like both of us are afraid to take that leap from a two-decade-old friendship to intimacy. Afraid perhaps of where it might lead, or maybe where it won’t.
I can’t be sure.
Then again, it could be that the ghosts that accompany us are just too strong to bear.
Soon he’s fucking into his fist with a deliberation that makes me weak at the knees, and I watch. I watch the way his muscles cord in his arms, the way his cock moves within the confines of his fist, the way his face contorts into pure pleasure.
Looking at Jasper, watching him about to come, it opens up something within me. The feeling is hard to describe and I can only think of one word that is fitting—primal.
His cock disappears inside his curled fingers and this stroke seems somehow more determined. Up, down, a twist around his crown, and then another twist. This time his head dips down, and then lowers still.
I press my thighs together to ward off the ache of arousal that is flooding me. I can’t hear him, but I wish I could. I know what he’s feeling, though, because I can see his mouth open and his face contort with satisfaction. He’s close. I can tell. And then soon enough, his taut belly strains, the muscles in his legs bunch, and then it happens—his desire jets out.
Never in my life have I wanted to make myself come like I do right in this moment. No, that’s not true. Never in my life have I wished for a man to take me the way I wish for Jasper to take me right now. Still, this is all kinds of wrong. I shouldn’t have watched him. I know this. Chiding myself, I lick salt from my upper lip and slowly, cautiously take a step back.
“Is there a show going on that I wasn’t invited to?”
That voice. I know that voice. The cynicism behind the tone.
Oh, God.
No. No. No.

About Kim Karr


Reader * Writer * Coffeelover * Romantic

Kim Karr is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She is a daydreamer. So much so that if daydreaming could be a hobby it would be her favorite. It’s how her stories are born and how they take root. An imagination that runs wild is something to be thankful for, and she is very thankful. :)
She grew up in New York and now lives in Florida with her husband and four kids. She’s always had a love for reading books and writing. Being an English major in college, she wanted to teach at the college level but that was not to be. She went on to receive an MBA and became a project manager until quitting to raise her family. Kim currently works part-time with her husband and with the rest of her time embraces one of her biggest passions–writing.
Kim wears a lot of hats! Writer, book-lover, wife, soccer-mom, taxi driver, and the all around go-to person of her family. However, she always finds time to read.
She likes to believe in soulmates, kindred spirits, true friends, and Happily-Ever-Afters. She loves to drink champagne, listen to music, and hopes to always stay young at heart.
 

Saturday, June 27, 2015

Release Week Event {Review + Giveaway}: STOP! by Alison G. Bailey


Title: STOP!
Author: Alison G. Bailey
Genre: New Adult, Contemporary
Release Date: 6/25/15

Synopsis

Every life has a different path full of sharp turns, smooth curves, and steep drop offs.

Hollis Murphy has a plan—college, career, boyfriend, love, marriage, family. A predictable, normal life. She’s on track until an outside force causes her to crash and burn. They call it an accident, because that’s the only word they know to explain what happens to her. It helps everyone move on with their lives, except for Hollis. She holds on to the belief that she’s been targeted for a reason. 

Risher Stevenson is intelligent, caring, sweet, and the hottest boy Hollis has ever laid eyes on. He fits perfectly into her original plan for a normal life. Everyone loves him.

Benton Daniels is intelligent, caring, sweet, and the bravest boy Hollis has ever met. He doesn’t fit into her life but gives it purpose and makes it extraordinary. Everyone hates him.

One is bullied. One is tormented. All are judged. How will it STOP?


Excerpt

“Name?” she said, impatiently.
I was so flustered that for a second I’d forgotten who I was. “Hollis Murphy.”
She scribbled something on a spreadsheet and handed me a packet with my name and the number two hundred ten typed out on the front sticker, which I assumed was my room number.
In a flat bored voice, she said, “Everything you need to know is in the packet. Should you have any additional questions or needs after reading the information, please ask your RA. Have a productive semester. Next!”
Clutching the envelope to my chest, my gaze shifted back down, and I walked quickly out of the office.
As I turned the corner, a loud deep woot! jerked my attention down the hall. I took one step before crashing full force into something solid and warm. Stumbling back, I dropped the envelope. Once my balance returned, my eyes focused on a gray T-shirt with cut off sleeves, stretched across broad shoulders. When I glanced down in search of my envelope, I couldn’t help but spot the narrow hips and round ass covered in black basketball shorts. As I squatted to pick up the envelope, a tanned forearm came into view. My gaze roamed up to find the arm was covered in bulging muscles.
“Oh god, I’m so . . . sor…ry,” I stammered, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.
            “Here ya go,” a deep voice said.
Reaching for the envelope, my gaze inadvertently shot up to the warmest green eyes ever created. His dark brown hair was cut short on the sides, longer on top, and tousled. The perfect amount of scuff peppered his strong jawline, with deep dimples framing a sexy lopsided smile. The air was immediately sucked from my lungs. He wasn’t just hot, he was boy band hot.
            A deep chuckle drifted down before I realized he had stood up and was extending his hand to me.
Oh boy! I get to touch him.
I slipped my hand into his and felt an immediate jolt of electricity. The muscles in his arm twitched. He felt it too.
“Thank you,” I said, as he helped me up.
            “I’m Risher Stevenson.”
            He was actually introducing himself to me.
            It had become a habit not to look directly at anyone, especially a stranger. I automatically angled my head down and to the left, to hide the messed-up side of my face. But those green eyes locked me in place. 
            “Hollis Murphy.”
            “Nice to meet you Hollis Murphy.”
            “Sorry again about running into you. I need to do a better job at watching where I’m going.”
            The tip of his tongue slipped between his lips before they formed into a slight smirk. Just as he was about to speak, his name came barreling down the hallway.
            “Rish! Get your ass down here. We’ve got a ton of boxes to haul in.” A blond-haired guy was standing at the end of the hall.
            “I gotta go finish helping my friends move in.”
            I nodded.
            Risher took three steps before turning back toward me. “Don’t do too good of a job.”
            My eyebrows squished together in confusion.
            “At watching where you’re going. I hate to think I won’t get rump bumped again.”
He winked before jogging away.
            I Sasquatched those shoulders, those hips, and that ass all the way down the hall.


Review

Before I get into my review I first would like to say the this was my first book my Alison. I have heard nothing but great things about her Perfect series, so I was super excited to start STOP!.

STOP! is about a girl named Hollis. She had an accident that caused her to had surgery which in turn resulted in a scar on her face. She was often called names in high school so she is insecure while entering her first year in college. There she meets two boys. 

Risher is adorable. He's smart and he is very kind.

Benten is going through something not all of us understand, but Hollis sees him as brave.

After finishing this book I was kind of disappointed. The writing was great, but it was Hollis that just didn't do it for me. Torwards the end I didn't really understand some of Hollis' decisions in terms of telling the authorities know about what was going on with Benten.

One thing that I would liked to know more about was Fishers past with his father. This book was a bit rushed at the end and I didn't really like that.

This book is labeled as New Adult and I don't know if the author intended for is to be NA or not, but aside from some bad words it felt like I was reading a Young Adult book.

All in all it was a good read, but I expected more from the other characters.

*I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review*

My rating: 



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About the Author

Alison was born and raised in Charleston, SC. She attended Winthrop University and graduated with a major in Theater. While at school Alison began writing one-act plays, which she later produced. Her debut novel, Present Perfect, landed on Amazon's Best Seller List and appeared on many "Best Reads of 2013" Book Blogs. The novel won Best Book at the 2014 Indie Romance Convention Awards. Her second novel, Past Imperfect, was published in February of 2014 and appeared on several best books of 2014 lists as well. Presently Perfect, the third and final book in The “Perfect” series was released in Dec 2014 to rave reviews. In March 2015 all the love, swoon, heat, and angst were combined into the Perfect Series Box Set.

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GIVEAWAY!!!

Monday, January 19, 2015

Release Day Blitz {Review + Excerpt}: The Line Between by Tamsyn Bester





There’s a fine line between love and hate, so fine that you don’t know you’ve lost balance until it’s too late.
I’m not sure exactly when I lost my balance, all I know is that he was to blame.
Dane Winters.
The boy who’d spent most of his life hating me for reasons I never understood.

** ** ** ** ** **

It was no secret that I hated her, but only I knew why.
She was off-limits.
And then our separate worlds collided with one tragedy.
It wasn’t her fault, I knew that, but I wanted her to hurt the way I did, and I needed someone to blame. She was an easy target.
Kennedy Monroe.
The girl I’d picked on all our lives.
And the woman I barely tolerated.
Until the line between love and hate was no longer visible… 

*New Adult Contemporary Romance*
*Due to mature content this book is not suitable for readers younger than 18*



The book is only $1.99 for the first few days only.  After that it will be marked up to $2.99.




PROLOGUE
Dane
16 Years Old
I STOOD TO the side, watching it all unfold in the wings. Jason’s voice grew louder, and attracted the attention of the students passing in the hall. Kennedy looked around, her eyes growing frantic, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment. I played Varsity football with Jason, he was the all-star quarterback, and while I thought the guy was a complete tool, what I disliked most about him was his interest in Kennedy Monroe. He was a senior; she was a sophomore like me, and he could have his pick of any girl in the school – why did it have to be her?
“Jason, please, can we go somewhere private and talk about why you’re freaking out?” Kennedy’s voice was soft, and filled with desperation.
“Is it true?” Asked Jason. He towered over Kennedy’s small frame, and if I hadn’t orchestrated this whole thing I would’ve told him to back the fuck off and leave her alone. But I couldn’t. Because she was the enemy.
For as long as I could remember, my father had warned me about the Monroe family. He told me to stay away from them, that their family had hated ours since our forefathers had founded this town. For a while, I listened, I stayed away, and I allowed my father’s apparent hatred for the Monroe family to become my own. It wasn’t until after we returned from this past summer that it all changed.
Kennedy had changed. In just three short months, she went from a gangly, dorky teenager to a gorgeous, stunning girl who intruded my every thought, both in sleep and consciousness. She’d started school a year earlier, making her younger than the rest of us, and what I thought she lacked in social graces she definitely made up for in smarts. She embodied everything I wanted, but couldn’t have. And that’s what had led me here.
“Is what true? I don’t know what’s gotten in to you, but we can’t do this in front of the entire school.”
Kennedy’s voice brought me back to the present, and I straightened, leaning against my locker on the opposite side of the hallway.
“Open your locker, Kennedy.”
I stiffened when Jason’s tone grew harder, but reminded myself that I had to watch rather than get involved and stop it.
Kennedy fiddled with the combination on her locker, and as soon as it popped open, the photos fell out. They consisted of pictures of Jason, close ups of his face, of him at practice, and I even managed to get a few of him at home in his room. It was all very stalker-ish.
I’d outdone myself, and couldn’t help the wicked grin on my face.
“What the hell?” Jason bellowed, picking up a few of the pictures scattered on the floor. “I can’t believe it, he was right.”
My grin fell slightly, and I hoped to God he didn’t mention my name.
“These aren’t mine,” Kennedy said quickly. “I swear, Jason, they aren’t.” She reached out to grab his arm, but he pulled away.
“I didn’t take these!” Kennedy held a few pictures in her hands, and looked up at Jason as if he’d believe her. I knew he wouldn’t. I’d made sure of it.
“Then why are they in your locker?”
“I-I don’t know,” Kennedy replied.
With a shake of his head, Jason looked between Kennedy and her locker on last time. “Dane was right,” – fuck – “You’re a freak.”
Students laughed, and Kennedy slammed her locker shut before running towards the girls’ bathrooms, tears glistening on her face.
It was a dick move, but that feeling of morbid satisfaction uncurled itself in my stomach. It was just too easy.
“You actually did it.”
I looked to the side, and saw my best friend Reid standing next to me.
“Of course I did.”
Reid sighed. “You are such an asshole.”
I pushed away from my locker, and slipped the strap of my bag over my shoulder before heading towards my next class.
“I know.”
Kennedy
15 Years Old
THE SOUND OF laughter echoed behind me, and finally died down when the bathroom door closed. I slipped into a stall, and closed the toilet seat before sitting down and taking a breath. My heart was racing, and my face was hot. Humiliation warmed my skin, and spurred the tears that had started falling down my cheeks. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but Dane had been quiet for the past weeks and I’d assumed his need to embarrass me on a daily basis had finally been satisfied. Apparently he’d been busy planning his latest prank.
I wiped my eyes, and took my cellphone from my bag. We weren’t allowed to keep our phones in our bags, but I always kept it on silent, and on hand in case of emergencies. If anything happened at school, they’d have to call my father, and I had to avoid that at all costs. There was only person I could call when I needed help, only one person I knew who would drop everything to be there for me.
I pulled up Charlie’s number, and waited for him to answer. He was coming home from college for the weekend, and I hoped he was close. I still had four hours of school, but I needed to leavenow. I didn’t want to have to stay and deal with any more crap. I’d had my fill for the day.
My brother’s voice came through the phone, and I relaxed, if only a little. “Hello? Kenny?”
“C-Charlie…” My lip started trembling.
“Kennedy, what’s wrong?”
“Are you close?” I asked. “Can you come get me, please?”
“I’m ten minutes out, baby girl, you hang tight.”
My shoulders sagged in relief. “Okay, I’m at school. I’ll meet you in the parking lot next to the sports field.”
“I’ll be there.”
I ended the call, and after righting myself in the mirror, I checked the hallway to make sure everyone, including the teachers, were in class. When it was clear, I snuck out, and quietly made my way towards the back exit of the school. No one would see me, and I could cut class for the rest of the day without anyone knowing until the teachers took roll call. By then I’d be gone.
I never cut class, ever, but today I felt like I needed to. I needed to see Charlie, and waiting four more hours wasn’t going to happen. I hadn’t seen him in almost a month, and it had been unbearable without him.
As soon as his blue Ford F250 stopped in the lot, he was out of the door, and had his arms around me before I could say anything.
I hugged him close, and breathed in his familiar scent of leather, and pine. The girls always ate him up, but nothing compared to having him as my big brother. He was all I really had, and had been protecting me for most of my life.
“I’m here,” he breathed into my hair.
I pulled away, and wiped the fresh tears that had slipped down my eyes. “I’ve missed you.”
He gave me his boyish grin, his eyes bright and so alive. His hair, which was a darker shade of blond, had grown, and hung on his forehead. He was such a man now, but I still saw the little boy who always bandaged up my ‘booboo’s, and the teenager who stayed with me the first time I got my period because there was no one else who could do it.
“C’mon,” he tugged my hand, and helped me into his truck. “We can grab some ice-cream, hit our favorite spot, and you can tell me what has you looking like a hot mess.”
I giggled, and felt the weight of the last month drift away as Charlie drove us away from school and into town. He picked us up some ice-cream, and took me to the only spot he knew I loved more than any other place. The lake.
It was a ten-minute drive outside the town limits, and at this time of year it was beautiful. Warm, and sunny, and safe.
I laid out a blanket from Charlie’s truck on the deck, and took a seat, dipping my toes in the water. Charlie sat down next to me, his big arm around my shoulders, and pressed me against his side.
“Okay, kid. Tell me what Dane Winters did this time.”
I looked up at him in surprise.
“Jewel called me,” he explained.
Jewel was Dane’s twin sister, and while our families couldn’t stand each other, Jewel and I had managed to become close. We could never hang out like normal best friends did, but we made it work anyway.
Charlie said her name with reverence, and while I wanted to know what that was about, I didn’t want to pry. He would tell me if he’d wanted me to know, and I left it at that. I had more pressing issues that needed to be cleared up, and the only way I could do that was to lay it all out.
“Spill it,” Charlie said.
And so I did. I told him everything.
That day at the lake was one of my favorite days, and I hadn’t known until much later in my teen life that it would be one of the last memories I’d have with my brother.

CHAPTER ONE
Kennedy
Present Day
THERE WAS SOMETHING truly somber about returning home after being gone for a year and a half. I’d thought about this moment more times in the last week than I’d cared to admit. I wondered if there would be someone here waiting for me, but I knew better than to wish for things like that.
The cobblestone driveway was dark, and the lights that normally illuminated the towering brick face house were off.
No one was home.
As I stopped my Jeep in front of the doors, I tried to squelch the disappointment and replace it with mock relief. I’d expected it, and yet I was naïve enough to hope that maybe, just maybe, it would be different this time.
I inhaled deeply, and tightened my vice grip on my steering wheel, both of which were feeble attempts at gathering enough courage to go inside.
It’s just for one night, I told myself.
I’d be spending one night here before heading off to college tomorrow. I would’ve been happier to spend it in Georgia, but our dorms opened tomorrow and I wouldn’t have made the fifteen-hour drive fast enough.
I climbed out, and made my way to the front doors. I was surprised to find that my key still opened the lock, and the sound echoed loudly through the dark, open space.

“Hello?”
My voice traveled, and came back to me. I was alone.
“Great” I muttered.
I shut the door, and went about switching more lights on as I made my way from the kitchen to the living room, and then the dining room. After grabbing my small duffel bag from my car, I walked upstairs, ignoring the family photo’s splashed across the walls. They were all used to make outsiders think we were family, and maybe we could have been. But on the night of my high school graduation that had all changed, and I found myself more alone than ever.
My room was still left the same, much to my disbelief. I was sure my stepmother would have snatched up the opportunity to get rid of all my things as soon as my taillights disappeared. For the most part I’d taken the majority of my clothes, and small belongings with me when I moved, but the larger pieces of furniture had to stay. My large bed still stood against the right wall, with my desk, and dresser against the left. The floor still had the same soft carpeting, and the walls were still the light shade of pink I’d chosen when I was thirteen.
It felt strange being back here. I expected it to be harder, but I was oddly detached from it all. The few good memories I did have were all faded, like an aged photograph. I’d moved on. Or at least I’d tried to. There were still a few things that had the ability to set me back, but none of them were as daunting as seeing him again. My mood plummeted slightly when thoughts of him popped into my head uninvited.
“Kennedy?”
My thoughts halted, and I turned at the sound of the voice. When I glanced at the small, elderly woman standing in my doorway I smiled wide, and ran to her.
“Lucy!”
I enveloped her in a hug and squeezed. I pulled away, and found her blue eyes watery. Her greyed hair was tied up in a bun, and her light blue robe hung off her thin frame. She was a tiny woman, and she’d aged so much since I’d last seen her.
“Kennedy,” she sighed, “it really is you.” Her voice cracked, and I felt my heart constrict. I never considered how my leaving had affected her – if I had, I probably would’ve stayed. I couldn’t have that.
“It’s me Luce.”
Her hand shook as she cupped my cheek. “Oh sweet girl, you look so grown up. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” I replied honestly. It was impossible to lie to her. Lucy had been working for us since before I was born, and lived on the property in a small cottage with her husband, Frank. He’d tended to our gardens, and maintained the grounds before he passed away three years ago. Growing up, Lucy was the only constant source of love and affection I had. Well, her and my brother, Charlie.
“I saw the lights switch on,” said Lucy, walking into my room. “If I’d known you were coming home I would have gotten the house ready.”
“That’s okay, Luce. I’m only here for one night. I have to pack a few more things before I move into my dorm at Brighton tomorrow.”
“Can I make you something to eat? I have some left-over chicken soup, and fresh bread that I can warm up for you? I made too much since it’s just me here.”
“That would be great,” I replied. “I’m just going to shower, and then I’ll be down.”
“I’ll put ‘Dirty Dancing’ on and we can catch up, okay?” Lucy wiped a tear away from her cheek, and then disappeared downstairs.
I let out the breath I’d been holding. Turned out seeing Lucy was all it took for the feelings I’d worked hard to bury to resurface. I’d have to worry about them later though. I had some packing to do.
After a quick shower, I slipped into a black tank top and cotton shorts before heading downstairs to the kitchen. Lucy had just sliced some bread, and took a bowl of her chicken soup out of the microwave.
“Just in time,” she said with a smile. “Sit your butt down, and eat something. You’re too skinny.”
With a chuckle I pulled out a bar chair and sat down. “Still bossy, I see.”
Lucy swatted me with a dishtowel and then took a seat next to me. “I haven’t changed,” she said. “But I can see you have.”
I took a mouthful of soup, diverting my gaze, and groaned. It was delicious.
“We all have to grow up, Luce. I just had to take a different road to get there.”
She fiddled with the dishtowel, wringing it between her aged fingers before looking back at me. The look in her eyes spoke volumes, more than any real words could say. We both knew why I’d changed, and why I’d been forced to grow up faster than most people my age. I was only eighteen, but it felt like I was twice that age.
“I’m sure if your father knew you were coming he would have been here,” said Lucy. I rolled my eyes, and took a bite of bread before replying. “We both know that’s not true. He could barely tolerate being in the same room with me as a child, and I doubt he feels any different now. Where has he taken the wicked stepmonster anyway?”
Lucy pursed her lips, knowing that she couldn’t deny a single word I’d just spoken. She knew better than anyone what my dear ol’ daddy was like when I was younger.
“They’re in Spain. They’re coming back in three weeks, after your father has tended to some business in Dallas.”
I looked at the remainder of my food, and pushed it away, my appetite suddenly gone. Thinking about my father and his trophy wife had that effect on me.
“That was delicious,” I said, squeezing Lucy’s hand. “I’ve missed your food.”
She peered into my bowl, and tsk’ed. “You hardly ate anything. No wonder you’re just skin and bone.”
“I’m not that skinny,” I retorted. “I’ve just lost some weight.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes but said nothing more as she cleaned up. What more could she say? I was in fact thinner after my year in Georgia, but I didn’t worry. Grief affected people in a variety of ways, and with me, it had robbed me of my desire to eat. And sleep.
“You want some ice-cream?” Asked Lucy.
“Depends. Do you still keep my favorite?”
She scoffed. “Of course. Peanut Butter and Fudge.”
“Then yes. We’ll eat that while you swoon over Patrick Swayze.”
I giggled, and made my way to the living room. Lucy joined me on the sofa, and we started chatting about what I’d been up to over the last few months. We skirted around the harder topics, and I was grateful for that. There were some things I wasn’t ready to talk about yet. With anyone.



This book was amazing! I don’t think I have ever read anything quite like this.

“There was a fine line between love and hate, so fine that you didn’t know you’d lost balance until it was too late.”

Both Kennedy and Dane’s families hate each other. Dane bullies Kennedy for a long time for reasons she doesn’t understand. He’s basically a big jerk. And for a long time Kennedy takes it.
Something from there past happens and it make Dane blame Kennedy even though it’s not her fault. Dane thinks that he can make her hurt the way he hurts. What Dane doesn’t understand is that she hurts just the same.

After a year in Georgia, Kennedy returns to attend college. She soon finds out that she is doom room neighbors with Dane. There worlds collide once again. Dane is supposed to hate her and he knows he should stay away, but the pull is too hard to resist. Soon lust takes over and they both can’t seem to stop. They both know that this can’t go anywhere serious. They both know they NEED to stop.

Dane can’t seem to let go of the past, but in order to move forward he needs to confront it.

I don’t know about you all, but I relish books with love-hate relationships. This was my first Tamsyn Bester book and I really enjoyed it. Even though Dane started out a jerk he definitely redeemed himself. Is there is a fine line between love and hate? Yes, I think there is…

*I recived an ARC in exchange for an honest review.*

Rating: 



I'm 21 years old & the ultimate Book Brat :) Coffee & Books are my drugs of choice, neither of which will be kicked to the curb any time soon! I go through a book a day & when I'm not reading I'm working on my debut novel, Beneath Your Beautiful :)I'm a sucker for New Adult Contemporary Romance with a whole lot of sexy thrown in & my number one rule is I won't read a book unless it has a happy ending! I also have the unhealthiest obsession with the South,and I don't mean my home country of South Africa - I mean cowboys, pick up trucks, sexy as sin Southern accents, cowboy boots and barefoot bluejean nights! One day, I will live in Alabama & I will have my own Indie publishing house - my philosophy is if your dreams don't scare you they're not big enough :)


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Thursday, December 11, 2014

Blog Tour {Review + Giveaway}: Easy Virtue by Mia Asher




Blurb

Love is selfish...

My name is Blaire.
I'm the bad girl.
The other woman.
The one who never gets the guy in the end.

I'm the gold digger.
The bitch.
The one no one roots for.
The one you love to hate.

I hate myself too...


Everyone has a story. Are you ready for mine?






Are you ready for Blaire?
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1rSEK0k




My Review

Mia, you have left me hungry for more. Again!


You scared me (for life!) with Arsen and then you go and write EV! My heart can't take it anymore! I never liked love triangle because, let face it, they can be annoying. But with Mia's books their is just something about her writing makes me fall in love with with both men. Like, how could you not fall in love with this:

"Do you ever not say the right things?"

"I don't know."

He looks at me, his gaze penetrating and full of something I understand but don't want to acknowledge.

"Maybe it's because you make me feel all the right things, Blaire."



**Cue the swooning!!!**


Or how could you not be dripping wet after this:



Running a hand through my hair, I watch as Lawrence closes the space between us in two strides. He learns down and cups my face in his hands.  his touch is sure and commanding, and I love it.



"I'm done talking, Blaire. Get on your knees."


**OMG!!!!!!!!!!**


She brings out so many emotions out of me that I'm just a withering mess at the end and yet I would not change it for the world. Mia Asher you wreck me.



I thought I know what I was in for when beginning Easy Virtue, but the truth is one can never be prepared enough when starting a Mia Asher book. Right away this book captured my attention with merely the first sentence.



Blaire White was never loving by her parents as a child and for that it caused her pain. That pain later turned into bitterness. Her need to feel loved turned her into the person we meet. Blaire still sees herself as a cubby little girl who used to get bullied. She does not believe in love. She uses her beauty to her full advantage by seducing rich men into providing for her in-exchange for sex. She uses her sex appeal to feed all her insecurities. Throughout all of this we meet these amazing men.

On the one hand you have a guys named Ronan who is charming, sexy, and all the things Blaire should stay away from because he make her want thing she never knew she wanted. And on the other hand you have Lawrence. Rich, hot, and understand that it's just sex.
Mia Asher, you my friend have done it again. I will literally read anything you give me. You write so beautifully and I can;t wait for book 2!

My rating:




Excerpt


With champagne and caviar inundating my every sense, I slither through the light wooden floors of the Lila Acheson Wallace Wing in The Met. As I walk, I pretend to admire the expensive jewelry being showcased tonight by a famous designer whose name I can’t remember. A multicolored diamond butterfly sparkles to my left and a cobra made out of black stones glistens to my right. Rows upon rows of precious gems twinkle under the soft lights of the room, flooding the space between the walls with the glow of a thousand stars. Furtive glances. Secrets gossiped. Beauty criticized. Lofty music fills the atmosphere as the über rich mingle and pretend to like each other, yet you can almost taste their conceit and derision for one another in the air.
          This is Walker’s world, and I love it.
          Standing across the room, where the crowd is thinner and the music fainter, I spot Walker’s blond head in the corner of the room, talking to a group of his colleagues and their wives. He looks polished and worth every penny of his trust fund in his sleek black tuxedo, perfectly starched white shirt and black bowtie. His long golden hair parted to the side shines like the sun. He is truly flawless.
          I smile because it’s hard to picture that this is the same guy who likes to snort coke off my tits as he fucks me while hardcore porn plays in the background. He looks untouchable and so cool, but his searching eyes, scanning the crowd for me give him up. He’s wondering where I am. He did tell me not to go too far, after all. Soon after we arrived at the party, I gave him some space to talk to his friends and do his thing while I did mine. I hate clingy people, so I avoid being one.
          I grab a third flute of champagne from a passing waiter, and try to decide which of the different displays to check out first when my eyes land on a spectacular piece of jewelry. On a bed of black silk, similar to my hair color, lies an extravagant necklace made of diamonds and rubies—a small heaven within one’s reach as long as you can afford the price.
          I bridge the space between the glass protecting the necklace and me until it’s within my reach, fighting the urge to touch the cool surface. As if under a spell, I observe how the rows of diamonds embedded in platinum form leaves and thorns. At its center is a rose made out of red diamonds almost as big as my palm.
          I feel someone walk up and stand next to me, but I don’t give him or her a second thought as I continue to admire the way the light hits the gems, making them shine.
          “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
          His voice is smooth and commanding, dripping absolute power. I keep my eyes locked on the display. Call it sixth sense, but somehow I know that under no circumstance should I make eye contact with the stranger who speaks like the ruler of the world.
          “Yes,” I say simply.
          “I wonder how much it is?” the man asks.
          “I don’t think it matters … I highly doubt anyone can afford it.”
          He chuckles, and the sound is more delicious than his voice. Lusher. “Oh, but I can.”
          I smile at his self-assurance. I love cocky assholes. “I still doubt it.”
          “You shouldn’t. I only speak the truth,” he retorts coolly. His voice is nonchalant yet his words leave no room for disbelief—a demand and a statement all in one.
          Suddenly, the noises of the room become distant. People talking and laughing amongst friends and the orchestra playing all fade away until all I hear is him speaking.
          And at this moment, that is all that matters.
          “The truth is very subjective, sir.”
          “The truth may be subjective but money isn’t. Money can buy anything.”  
          His answer is like an electroshock, jumpstarting my brain from a champagne-induced haze. My pulse begins to accelerate, excitement making it hard to take a deep breath. Don’t look at him … don’t.
          “Oh really,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. He’s right, though.
          “Of course. I believe everything,” he pauses, “and everyone has a price.”
          Curiosity winning the battle against curiosity, I turn to face him, and what a fucking big mistake that is. When our eyes meet, I feel incapacitated of all sense and movement. The sight of him takes my breath away. This man gives the term “lust at first sight” a whole new meaning.
           In my short twenty-three years, I’ve been with extremely handsome men, perfect even, but to classify the man standing next to me in any kind of category would be a disservice to him, and not really fair to the others. Longish, light brown hair wildly framing his face, vacant eyes the color of dollar bills, a slightly crooked nose, and a mouth that begs to be buried deep within your thighs. His beauty is as harsh as it is stunningly perfect. Dressed in a simple black tuxedo and unbuttoned white shirt, the man exudes innate virility and grace, reminding me of a black panther stalking his prey. And just like a panther, it’s the pure raw and powerful energy emanating from within him that I find most attractive. Because just by standing next to him, I get the sense that his word is always the last spoken and his wishes the first ones to be fulfilled. He doesn’t ask, he demands. He doesn’t hope, he expects.
           He’s quiet for a moment; his uncanny eyes hold me captive as though they are baring my soul to him and I hate it. I tighten my hold on the crystal flute. I want to look away, but I can’t. The way he’s staring at me makes me want to squirm.
          “I wonder … do you have one?” he asks softly before turning to examine the piece of jewelry once more.
          “A what?” I ask, momentarily stunned.
          He smiles. “A price.”
          “For the right amount … I just might,” I say quietly, my heart beating so fast it feels as though it wants out of my chest. As soon as the words leave my mouth, there’s no shock coursing down my body, no rolling waves of shame pulling me down for having said that to a complete stranger—nothing.
          And why should there be? I am who I am.
          I’m staring at his profile, waiting for him to acknowledge my answer, when a breeze of cool air floats past us, making me shiver. About to chase the goose bumps on my arm with my hand, I watch as he slowly turns to look at me, catching me staring at him. Time stands still as I watch him raise his large tanned hand and touch my bare shoulder, his fingertips lightly grazing the temporary small bumps covering it. Then he smiles as if he knows that my skin is tingling from his scalding touch, and looks away.
          “I thought so.”
          We remain standing next to each other for another minute or so, the distance between us almost nonexistent. It would be so easy to reach out and hold his hand. The sound of an incoming call breaks the silence, bringing us back to reality.
          He takes his cell phone out of the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket and ignores the call after noting the name of the caller. He lifts his gaze to meet my own.
“Sorry about that.”
          “It’s okay. I should go … I’m here with someone,” I reply, not really wanting to leave him just yet.
          “Yes, that’s probably a good idea.”
          I frown. He didn’t have to be quite so blunt. The stranger extends a hand toward me, holding something in his fingers.
          “Here … ”
          I open my hand as I feel the edges of what I assume is his business card poke the skin of my palm. “What’s this?” I ask stupidly.
          “My business card, of course.”
          “Obviously … but why?”
          He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s just say that I’m an interested buyer.”
          And then he’s gone.
          He turns and walks away from me, disappearing into a sea of colorful gowns and black suits. As the sounds of the party infiltrate my ears once more, I lower my gaze to stare at the simple cream-colored card in my hand. Its simplistic and elegant design draws attention to the name printed in bold black letters on the paper.
          Lawrence Rothschild.
          I smile and let my fingertips trail his name. It depends on what you’re willing to pay, Mr. Rothschild.

Published by Mia Asher

Copyright © 2013 by Mia Asher




About the Author:

Mia Asher
My name is Mia Asher.
I'm a writer, a hopeless romantic, a wanderer, a dreamer, a cynic, and a believer. And, oh yes…I might be a bit crazy - but who isn't?


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