Category: 5-Stars

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Book Review: Handle With Care by Helena Hunting

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“Lincoln and Wren had me flipping through the pages frantically, begging for more. Their chemistry was explosive, their love story both hilarious and tender.”- L.J. Shen, USA Today bestselling author

Handle With Care, an all-new romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting is available now!

 

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Handle With Care

by Helena Hunting 

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HE WANTS TO LOSE CONTROL.

Between his parents’ messed up marriage and his narcissistic younger brother, Lincoln Moorehead has spent the majority of his life avoiding his family. After the death of his father, Lincoln finds himself in the middle of the drama. To top it all off, he’s been named CEO of Moorehead Media, much to his brother’s chagrin. But Lincoln’s bad attitude softens when he meets the no-nonsense, gorgeous woman who has been given the task of transforming him from the gruff, wilderness guy to a suave businessman

SHE’S TRYING TO HOLD IT TOGETHER.

Wren Sterling has been working double-time to keep the indiscretions at Moorehead Media at bay, so when she’s presented with a new contract, with new responsibilities and additional incentives, she agrees. Working with the reclusive oldest son of a ridiculously entitled family is worth the hassle if it means she’s that much closer to pursuing her own dreams. What Wren doesn’t expect is to find herself attracted to him, or for it to be mutual. And she certainly doesn’t expect to fall for Lincoln. But when a shocking new Moorehead scandal comes to light, she’s forced to choose between her own family and the broody, cynical CEO.

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My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

Do not sass me, Lincoln Alexander Moorehead. And do not call me G-mom in front of the goddamn staff. How am I going to keep my battle-ax reputation with you shouting nicknames that make me sound like a second-rate rap star?

 

I don’t know what kind of karmic bomb your parents managed to set off when they created your brother.

 

I’m startled out of my thoughts when my brother jumps up and shouts a bunch of profane nonsense, hands flailing like he’s trying to swim on land, or approximate the chicken dance while on an LSD trip… He keeps jabbing his finger at me, as if he’s engaged in a finger sword fight.

 

Gwendolyn’s expression is slightly pinched— which is saying something because most of her face usually doesn’t move.

 

Dear sweet baby Jesus riding a unicorn.

 

He wasn’t faithful to my mother, and maybe I can understand that, since she has the warmth of a corpse…

 

My Review:

 

I am stunned and truthfully mortified to report that this was my first Helena Hunting experience… where have I been? The woman is a prolific and clever wordsmith and has a backlist a mile long – I am so ashamed of myself ~ hangs head… But now that I am in the know I plan to make amends for my slothful and inattentive ways and greedily latch on to as many of her skillful arrangements of words as possible. I am totally enamored with her wit, observantly descriptive writing style, and irreverent humor.

 

Handle With Care was written in my favorite dual POV with sparkling levity, titillating family scandals, smoldering sensual scenes, vile yet quirky villains that I loved to despise, and a plethora of enticing and intriguing primary and secondary characters. I adored every well-placed word and smirked my way through this absorbing and refreshingly entertaining tale. Sigh, I enjoyed these characters so much I am more than a bit reluctant to let them go, but at least I now have a new favorite author to fangirl.

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Excerpt:

“You have a suit fitting tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning? I have lots of suits; I’ll make one of those work.”

“Are they like the ones you wore to the funeral?” I ask.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, they may have fit you five years ago, but they certainly don’t fit you now. I’ll text you the details and add them to your personal calendar.”

“You can’t do that without my cell number.” His smugness would be grating if I wasn’t two steps ahead of him.

I flash a fake smile. “I already have all of your personal details, Lincoln. Right down to your shoe size. And you can’t be late like you were this morning, so it might be a good idea to avoid the scotch tonight so you’re less bear and more human. You’ll need to use these things called manners. I can email you a refresher on what those are, should you need it.”

“Sarcasm is a weapon of the weak.”

My ears are on fire as he heads for the door. Jerk. I was being witty, not sarcastic. “Thanks so much for offering to help clean up the mess you made.” I turn to address the crinkled papers scattered on the floor.

It’s common courtesy to offer assistance if you’re the one who made the damn mess. Even Armstrong, who is the most epic of douches, has some manners. Usually he’ll try to look up a skirt or down a shirt while he’s being polite, but it’s better than this.

I turn to retrieve the papers when two things happen, a power surge ramps up the box fans—it happens at least twice a day, and at the same time Lincoln pulls the door open again. The simultaneous actions create a vortex of air inside my office, and my skirt flutters into the air. Like I’m Marilyn Monroe and I’ve stepped onto one of those subway grates. The fabric rises quickly, and a breeze hits me right between the legs, which is the exact moment I remember that I’m not wearing panties. Because they were covered in the coffee Armstrong spilled in my lap.

I drop the papers and battle the fabric back down. It’s fruitless, though, the wind tunnel whirls through the room like Dorothy’s freaking tornado, and the back of my dress goes up. I meet Lincoln’s gaze from across the small room. All it takes is a second of eye contact before those ridiculously blue eyes pull me in, and weird, inappropriate things start happening to my body. It’s irritating as hell. I don’t even like this guy, but my body seems as if it hasn’t gotten the same memo as the rest of me. Even more aggravating is the realization that based on his expression, he totally caught an eyeful of cooch.

Lincoln stands frozen at the door, eyes wide and fixed on my crotch, mouth hanging open.

“Close the damn door!” My voice is siren high. And loud.

“Right. Yes. I’m going. Now.” He steps out of my office, pulling the door closed behind him.

My dress settles around my knees. “Dammit.” I drop into my chair, which is probably what I should’ve done as soon as the wind tunnel started, but clearly I’d been too panicked to think straight.

On the upside, I went to see my waxer last week, so he’s seen my girl bits when they’re looking their finest.

On the downside, my project for the next six months has seen my naked girl bits.

 

About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

 

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Book Review: Happy-Go-Lucky by L.H. Cosway

Happy-Go-Lucky

by L.H. Cosway

Amazon US / UK / CA / AU 

 

Every workplace has that one person you don’t want to mess with. 

At James & Peterson Investigations, that would be Cameron Grant: sullen, grouchy, intimidating, oh yeah, and sexy as hell. He can make your soul wither with a single disapproving glare. And he never, ever socializes with his co-workers.

This is why Maisie Wilkins, happy-go-lucky ray of sunshine, can’t fathom why Cameron finally decided to show up at their annual office Christmas party. Every year he received an invite, and every year he failed to attend. But not this year.

Curious as to why he’s there, Maisie can’t resist sitting next to Cameron. Before she knows it, she’s had one too many drinks and is drunkenly hailing a cab back to his place. Office party flings are not something she normally does, but despite his intimidating character, Cameron has a charm she can’t resist. Or maybe it was just those five gin and tonics blurring her judgment.

Whatever the reason, Maisie now has to navigate the awkward, tension-filled waters of sharing an office with someone she’s slept with.

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

I found it weird to think of him having parents, siblings. I was used to imagining him as some sort of perfect-looking vampire who slept in a coffin and consumed only blood. Then again, it was hard to explain the whole daylight thing.

 

Any mention of a man and she got a very specific look in her eye, like a mother in a period drama with a spinster daughter she was eager to marry off.

 

“You know, you might be right. I probably should stop bringing donuts to the office. They say sugar can have an adverse effect on testosterone levels. Oh,” I smacked my hand to mouth like I’d just come to some dramatic realisation. “That might be why you’re all standing around here gossiping and bitching about me like a bunch of old ladies.”

 

I was falling for this man, drowning in the sea of him and there was no swimming back to the surface… With Cameron, it was like there were more feelings inside of me than my body was capable of holding.

 

And when he asked me what my favourite spice was, I said Sporty. I think that’s where the date started to go downhill…

 

He smiled at me, the sort of rare smile that made you believe you were hearing angels sing.

 

My Review:

 

This was a fun and wryly amusing read featuring an office romance where opposites attract and create a beautiful result where the whole is greater than the parts. Cameron was exacting in his work while tetchy and uncaring of how other people regarded him, while Maisie was an optimist who bent over backward in her constant efforts and concern in pleasing others.   I adored their storylines, blossoming romance, and quirky office dynamics.

 

Ms. Cosway’s engaging writing was entertaining, well balanced, insightfully observant, and loaded with clever wit and stealthy levity as well as a few delectable scenes of sizzling sensuality. She also had me Googling ASMR, something I’d never taken note of before, which led to falling into a YouTube wormhole while experimenting with various video mavens until I shook myself loose. Funny how that happens…

About the author:

L.H. Cosway lives in Dublin, Ireland. Her inspiration to write comes from music. Her favorite things in life include writing stories, vintage clothing, dark cabaret music, food, musical comedy, and of course, books. She thinks that imperfect people are the most interesting kind. They tell the best stories. L.H. is represented by Louise Fury at The Bent Agency.

Social Media Links:FB: www.facebook.com/LHCosway

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Book Review: Kiss Me Not by Emma Hart

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What do you do when you’re the reigning kissing booth champion but the only person you want to kiss is your best friend’s brother?

Kiss Me Not, an all-new hilarious brother’s best friend romance from New York Times bestselling author Emma Hart is available now!

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Kiss Me Not

by Emma Hart

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2wq22jD

AppleBooks: https://apple.co/2VZW8QH

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Let me make this clear right here, right now: I, Halley Dawson, do not care that Preston Wright is kissing other women.

Not a lick. Not at all. Nuh-uh-freakin’-uh.

I do care that he’s doing it six feet away from me behind a gaudy velvet curtain—making him my competition in this year’s kissing contest.

Why do I care, you ask? Because I’ve had an unfortunate crush on the insufferable idiot since I was sixteen years old, but I also know it’s never going to happen.

He’s the Creek Falls bachelor to die for, and I’m the Creek Falls raccoon lady who puts peanut butter sandwiches out for them every night.

I’m not going to let him break my four-year-long reign—no matter how many times he breaks the rules and slides the curtain across to do the one thing he’s not allowed to:

Kiss me.

 

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My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

I was woefully single to the point that the only date I had was with the raccoons who lived in the woods behind my house.

 

“Bite me, Preston.” “That can be arranged… should you want it to be literal, it can be arranged.” He gave me a wolfish smile. “There’s no shame in a little nibble, Halley.” He punctuated that with a wink. Why was my mouth dry? What was happening?

 

“You do, don’t you? … You have an entire emergency kit.” “You never know when you’re going to get stranded in the dark, in a place with no cell signal, and no civilization for miles. Also, there might be zombies.”

 

“Wow. You are a hard woman to please.” “Not really. Wine, yoga pants, raccoons, books… I’m fairly simple.”

 

 My Review:

 

Emma Hart is relatively new to me; this is only my third time picking up one her riotously funny tales and I am kicking myself for not discovering this clever minx years ago. Kiss Me Not is the start of a new series and I am all in for whatever Ms. Hart wants to throw down – unless she starts writing zombie stories – those would probably be a no-go. Penned in my favorite dual POV, her writing sparkled and zinged with witty and irreverent banter, a trio of feisty and sassy friends, and smirk-a-minute levity at a lively and snappy pace. I adored it!

Excerpt:

“I never answered your question.”

“What question?” I darted my eyes to the side.

“Just now. You asked me if I wanted to kiss you.”

I did, didn’t I? Right. “Oh,” was all I said.

Slowly, he moved his hand to my chin and gently lifted it. Still, I didn’t look at him, keeping my eyes firmly trained on the front of the tent, even though I was facing him.

“Halley.”

“Yeah?”

“I want to kiss you.”

My eyes darted to his.

“I thought that’d do it.” His lips twitched, and he lowered his head until I had to fight the urge to close my eyes in anticipation of the kiss that was coming.

I swallowed, my lips parting.

Preston moved closer.

And he kissed my cheek.

I jerked out of whatever trance I’d just been in. “What the hell?”

He jumped off the stage, grinning. “I guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to break the stalemate, won’t we?”

“Oh, hell no!” I jumped off, stalking him to his side of the stage. “You just stood there in front of me and told me you want to kiss me, then kiss my cheek? The hell was that?”

His eyebrows shot up, amusement flashing in his eyes. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to kiss me, too.”

“Irrelevant,” I shot back. “But you’re a special kind of asshole to tell a girl you wanna kiss her and then not do it.” I turned around, then stopped. “You know what? When I beat you tomorrow, you can kiss my ass.”

“You’re way too mad about this.”

“I’m not mad!” My voice raised a few octaves. “I couldn’t care if you want to kiss me or not. I most certainly don’t want to kiss you.”

“Why are you shouting at me?”

“I’m not—” I was shouting at him. “Whatever,” I said in a normal voice. “Make sure you take that money to the bank. Tell Tish I sent you.”

I left him on his side of the curtain and went to get my purse. He could get fucked. After all that where I think I was so damn nervous I broke a sweat, he didn’t even kiss me.

I wasn’t lying with what I said.

He could kiss my ass.

I’d even wear my good panties and bend over for him.

 

About Emma Hart

Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels and has been translated into several different languages.

​She is a mother, wife, lover of wine, Pink Goddess, and valiant rescuer of wild baby hedgehogs.

​Emma prides herself on her realistic, snarky smut, with comebacks that would make a PMS-ing teenage girl proud.

​Yes, really. She’s that sarcastic.

EmmaHart

Connect with Emma

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Website: https://www.emmahart.org/home

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Book Review: The Murder List by Hank Phillippi Ryan

The Murder List

by Hank Phillippi Ryan

 

Amazon US / UK / AU / CA / B&N

Law student Rachel North will tell you, without hesitation, what she knows to be true. She’s smart, she’s a hard worker, she does the right thing, she’s successfully married to a faithful and devoted husband, a lion of Boston’s defense bar, and her internship with the Boston DA’s office is her ticket to a successful future.

Problem is–she’s wrong.

And in this cat and mouse game–the battle for justice becomes a battle for survival.

The Murder List is a new standalone suspense novel in the tradition of Lisa Scottoline and B. A. Paris from award-winning author and reporter Hank Phillippi Ryan.

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

My new boss. Martha Gardiner. The woman Jack usually refers to as “Satan in pearls.” He never laughs when he says it.

 

Forget the speed of light. Nothing travels faster than gossip… Secrets only take a few beats longer. Gossip is the fuel of power.

 

At noon, Kurt had brought us lunch, wrapped in the white waxed paper of the Pietro Pan Deli. The Italian sandwiches had too much salami and too many onions, and I’d wondered if that was a sneaky way to encourage us to hurry. I wished the jury room had windows we could open.

 

You could send lawyers to law school. And judges to judge school, or whatever they had. And those people were versed in all the rules. But at the end of all the rule-following and objections and legal procedures, when the gavel banged and the door closed, when you got into a jury room, it was regular people. Flawed people. Biased people. Who may or may not agree to those rules. Who can manipulate and pressure and influence. And, depending on the power of jurors’ consciences, no one would ever know.

 

I flinch at the sound of my name. I’ve felt so invisible, even I almost forgot I was here.

 

My Review:

 

This was extremely clever, so smartly plotted, brilliantly paced, and engagingly written. I fell right inside and didn’t surface for most of the day, only under the threat with death by my internal organs and whining from my neglected husband. This was my first experience reading this sly wordsmith and I was a quick convert, I’ll buy whatever she’s selling as I totally fell for her tricks, I never saw it coming. The writing was superb and cleverly amusing as well as perceptively detailed, but the characters – they were vibrant and alive for me on the page. Ms. Ryan has exceptionally strong word voodoo. Like a binging dieter, I greedily want to amass and consume all her clever words.

About the Author

Amazon
Goodreads
Website

Hank Phillippi Ryan is the bestselling author of eleven award-winning novels of suspense. National reviews have called her a “master at crafting suspenseful mysteries” and “a superb and gifted storyteller.”

Her first psychological standalone, TRUST ME (now in paperback), is an Agatha Award nominee, and was named BEST of 208 by the New York Post, Real Simple Magazine, BookBub, Crime Reads, and PopSugar. Mary Kubica says: “Dazzling!” and Lisa Gardner says “Mesmerizing!”

Hank is also an award-winning investigative reporter at Boston’s WHDH-TV. In addition to 36 EMMYs and 14 Edward R. Murrow awards, Hank’s won dozens of other honors for her ground-breaking journalism.

Her work has resulted in new laws, people sent to prison, homes removed from foreclosure, and millions of dollars in refunds and restitution for victims and consumers. She’s been a radio reporter, a legislative aide in the United States Senate and an editorial assistant at Rolling Stone Magazine, working with Hunter S. Thompson, Richard Avedon, and Richard Goodwin.

Hank is a founding teacher at Mystery Writers of America University and served as president of national Sisters in Crime. She blogs at Jungle Red Writers and Career Authors.

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Book Review: Silent Night by Geraldine Hogan

SILENT NIGHT 

by Geraldine Hogan

Amazon / B&N / iBooks / Kobo / GP

‘She reached into the pram and placed her hands on the cotton blanket. It was still warm. But her smiling, new baby sister, with her wide blue-grey eyes, was gone…’

Twenty-five years later, three bodies are found at a ramshackle cottage in the Irish countryside, and Detective Iris Locke is sick to her stomach. The victims are Anna Crowe and her two young children.

Iris has only recently joined the Limerick Murder Squad. Against her father’s advice, she’s working the narrow lanes and green hills of her childhood. Iris still remembers Anna, who was just a small girl when her baby sister was snatched, never to be seen again. It was the one case Iris’ own father never solved, and Iris can’t help but wonder if the two crimes are connected.

She’ll stop at nothing to find Anna justice, but a fire has destroyed almost all the physical evidence, and Limerick is the same small town she remembers: everybody protects their neighbors, and Iris has been away for too long.

Can Iris unpick the lies beneath the surface of her pretty hometown, and catch the most twisted individual of her career, when reopening the old case means reopening old wounds for her team, the rest of the community, and her own father?

Fans of Patricia Gibney, Angela Marsons and L.J. Ross won’t want to miss this – the first book in a gripping and unputdownable new crime series.

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

Ah yes, the good old days when they moved you every couple of weeks. It tended to weed out the men from the boys, and the women entirely.

 Boran was an electric eel of a man, long and reedy, jumpy and giddy; with deep-set eyes that Iris supposed might set him aside as an artist, or in Iris’s line of work, a player.

 Rumour has it she’s looking to catch you out, Slattery, better watch yourself. That one, she’s a hairy bit of work on a bicycle, take it from me. You watch yourself up there now.

 Iris lowered her voice, conscious once more of her surroundings. St Abbati’s Terrace wasn’t exactly Soho. It was the kind of place, Iris figured, where the neighbours knew if you flushed twice within the hour and they would be counting.

 Slattery, more than anyone, knew that truth was a costly commodity; he knew it because from what he could see, it was rarer than hens’ teeth.

  

My Review:

 

While the clever story threads and plot lines were unpredictable and smartly paced, I was far more taken by Ms. Hogan’s exquisitely crafted, evocative, and slowly evolving storytelling.   She snared my attention on page one and kept me immersed in her intriguing tale to the last sentence. Her writing was deftly penned and scrolled smoothly through my brain with ease. It was as if I were watching a film.

Each scene was thoroughly set to engage all the senses from vivid visuals to heart-squeezing emotional tones, with an added treat of agilely inserted incidental details and keenly entertaining observations that tickled my brain cells and continually prodded my curiosity.

What an unexpected delight! I am all in with the lovely Iris and am eager to see what the crafty Ms. Hogan shakes loose for her next murder case. And for a bonus, I learned a fun Irish idiom of “on the gargle” – meaning to be boozy.

About the author

Geraldine Hogan was born in Ireland. She gained an Honors Degree in English Literature and Psychology from Dublin City University and a Postgraduate Degree in Training and Management from University College, Galway. She is an Irish award-winning and bestselling author of four contemporary fiction novels under the pen name Faith Hogan.
Silent Night is her first crime novel, her second is due out in December 2019.
She is currently working on her next novel. She lives in the west of Ireland with her husband, four children, and a very busy Labrador named Penny. She’s a writer, reader, enthusiastic dog walker, and reluctant jogger – except of course when it is raining!

 

You can find out more about Geraldine here:
www.Facebook/GeraldineHoganAuthor.com
Twitter @gerhogan
https://www.instagram.com/faithhoganauthor/

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Book Review: The Perfect Lie by Karen Osman

The Perfect Lie

by Karen Osman

Amazon US / UK / AU / CA /

 B&N/ Kobo / GP

 

Nothing has felt right since she told the lie…

Claire Carmichael leads a charmed life. She has two beautiful sons, Jamie and Joshua, and a handsome and successful husband who loves her. She has been taught well by her mother – the most important thing Claire has is her good reputation.

He said, she said…

Even when she was in school, Claire had it all. She was clever, likable, and after passing the initiation tests, she was welcomed into the society of popular girls – The Queen Bees. So when a scandal threatened to ruin Claire’s reputation, the Queen Bees closed rank to protect her, no matter who else got hurt.

Never forgotten, never forgiven…

Claire may have moved on from her school days, but for one person who she hurt irreparably, those memories are as fresh as blood. And all it takes to reap their revenge, is ONE PERFECT LIE.

The latest heart-racing psychological thriller from the author of the bestselling The Good Mother. Perfect for fans of Lucy Clarke, Paula Hawkins and Lisa Jewell.

 

My Rating:

Favorite Quote:

 

After John Griffith, Claire had kissed other boys at various parties. There was Cameron with his braces and saliva, Rich who had licked her teeth, and Tony – probably the best of a bad bunch, with his eager tongue.

 

My Review:

 

This tautly written book hit all the right notes for me. Penned in my favorite dual POV with dual timelines, the original storylines were compelling, intriguing, maddeningly paced, and unpredictable. I quickly fell into the tale and was soon hooked by this clever and sneaky wordsmith’s agile misdirections and deftly handled twists and turns. It was deviously crafted and cast with a bevy of difficult and unusual characters who were actually rather awful human beings.

Lessons I learned from this story include: mothers don’t want you to do the right thing if it would potentially cause them embarrassment; selfishly keeping your mouth shut to avoid personal shame will surely backfire; never screw over a highly intelligent person; Queen Bees is an excellent name for an elite pack of vapid mean girls; and what goes around may eventually come around but it pays to manipulate the timeline and help karma along with your own vengeful plotting. I was on edge and nibbling on my cuticles the whole way through and huffed in disbelief at the ending. It was outstanding!

About the Author

 

Originally from the UK, Karen won the Emirates Airline Festival of Literature Montegrappa Novel Writing Award 2016 with her crime-thriller novel, the bestselling The Good Mother. When she’s not writing novels, Karen is busy bringing up her two young children and running her communication business Travel Ink.

Follow Aria

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Facebook: @ariafiction

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Book Review: Best Friends Forever by Dawn Goodwin

 Best Friends Forever

by Dawn Goodwin

 

Amazon  US / UK / CA / AU  /  B&N/ iBooks / Google / Kobo

Have you ever wanted to kill your best friend?

Anna was the perfect wife. Perfect mother. Perfect woman. And now she’s dead. Leaving behind her husband, David, and two young children their lives will never be the same. But Vicky will make sure life goes on…

These two women have been best friends forever, a lifetime of secrets lies between them and now Vicky is ready to step up into Anna’s perfect shoes. But not everything is as it seems and as David begins to question Vicky’s motives for walking into his life things might just get a little murderous.

The question on everyone’s lips is, who killed Anna? And what actually happened on the night she died?

Perfect for fans of The Rumour, The Silent Patient and The Suspect.

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

He smiled at her and everything around them seemed to hold still for a moment, like a caught breath.

 

Brian had a squashed face like a fat troll, all folds and furrows. His gut hung over his well-worn belt and his shirt strained at the buttonholes. Vicky had never liked him.

 

Secrets and lies. That’s what friends are for.

 

My Review:

 

I am still vacillating in how I feel and in how to rate this twisty and complex story of retribution, manipulation, lies, and secrets. The characters were not admirable or all that likable as people, yet I had empathy for several. Sometimes poor choices started out as no choice, and then continue to mushroom until they pervade every inch, breath, and thought. That is but a part of what happened in this slippery brain-burning tale that kept me on edge and off-kilter. I devised and cast off and reworked a multitude of theories. My curiosity and cynical nature were so active they may have overheated, and I fear the poor little pea in my brain may have been scorched.

 

Anna was all kinds of wrong and simply vile, beautiful, yet rotten to the core. She was a cruel, volatile, vain, and a manipulative and narcissist sociopath.   She had been toying with others and honing and steadily progressing her deviousness since childhood. And Vicky was her perfect victim, needy, eager to please, lacking in confidence or self-control, and able and willing to take abuse. And David, well, David was an idiot, completely under his wife’s spell. In real life, I would not willingly share air with either of them and found them to be heinous and exasperating individuals, yet their encounters and exchanges made compelling dicey storylines that I just couldn’t seem to get a grip on or leave alone. Dawn Goodwin is a crafty minx and led me on a merry chase. So while the ending was not as satisfying as I would have desired, I have to concede to her advanced level of craft – she had me well invested and kept me guessing to the very end.

 

About the Author

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Dawn’s career has spanned PR, advertising and publishing. Now, she loves to write about the personalities hiding behind the masks, whether beautiful or ugly. Married, she lives in London with her two daughters and a British bulldog called Geoffrey.

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Book Review: BLOOD TRUTH (The Black Dagger Legacy Series #4) by J. R. Ward

BLOOD TRUTH

(The Black Dagger Legacy Series #4)

by J. R. Ward

On Sale: August 13, 2019

Purchase Links:

ABOUT THE BOOK:

The #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Savior brings you the next sizzling and passionate paranormal romance in the Black Dagger Legacy series.

As a trainee in the Black Dagger Brotherhood’s program, Boone has triumphed as a soldier and now fights side by side with the Brothers. Following his sire’s unexpected death, he is taken off rotation against his protests—and he finds himself working with Butch O’Neal, former homicide cop, to catch a serial killer: Someone is targeting females of the species at a live-action role play club. When the Brotherhood is called in to help, Boone insists on being a part of the effort—and the last thing he expects is to meet an enticing, mysterious female…who changes his life forever.

Ever since her sister was murdered at the club, Helaine has been committed to finding the killer, no matter the danger she faces. When she crosses paths with Boone, she doesn’t know whether to trust him or not—and then she has no choice. As she herself becomes a target, and someone close to the Brotherhood is identified as the prime suspect, the two must work to together to solve the mystery…before it’s too late. Will a madman come between the lovers or will true love and goodness triumph over a very mortal evil?

Catch up on unique terms in the Black Dagger Brotherhood universe…and their IRL inspirations!

Sneak Peek at BLOOD TRUTH:

29th and Market Streets

Caldwell, New York

Boone’s shitkickers shredded the frozen tire tracks down the middle of the alley, his powerful body churning through the dirty city snow, air sucking into his lungs cold and punching out hot as steam from a locomotive’s stack. In his right hand, he had a twelve-inch serrated hunting knife. In his left, a length of chain.

Up ahead, by about thirty feet, a lesser was running as if its undead life depended on all the Usain Bolt the thing was pulling. The telltale sickly sweet stench of the enemy was thick in its wake, a tracker that Boone’s sensitive nose had picked up on seven blocks ago. The slayer was sloppy of foot, flappy of hand, and given how saturated its smell was, Boone wondered whether it was already injured.

The Black Dagger Brotherhood’s commanding officer, Tohrment, son of Hharm, set the nightly territories for the Brothers and fighters, carving up sections of downtown into quadrants that would be stalked for the enemy. Trainees such as Boone were paired with more experienced people, either Brothers or members of the Band of Bastards, in the interest of safety—especially as there was a new threat out on the streets.

Shadow entities. That were killing innocent vampire civilians.

Boone glanced over his shoulder. Tonight, he was working with Zypher. The Bastard was a great partner, a big, brutal male who nonetheless had a teacher’s patience and an eye for constant improvement.

It was supposed to have been Syn. And a relief when it wasn’t.

Syn was . . . different.

Boone’s favorite to work with, bar none, was Rhage. But the Brotherhood was otherwise occupied tonight. Every last one of them.

And Boone was the one who had set them on a mission that he hoped and prayed didn’t result in death.

His father’s, specifically.

In the intervening twelve months since their blowup over the broken arrangement, he and Altamere had settled into an uneasy détente. Which was what happened when you finally called a bully on their push-and-shove. The two of them kept up appearances, something that was not hard given how starchy and superficial their relationship had always been, but Boone had drawn a line and instead of the threatened repercussions, in return he’d gotten a retreat of hostility.

He probably should have moved out, but as petty as it was, he had enjoyed getting the upper hand and keeping it. Especially after he joined the Brotherhood’s training program, something he was well aware his father disapproved of. Altamere’s “son” a soldier? Fighting in the war? How brutish. The move had made Boone’s bookish decades seem like a fine hand of cards.

But he loved the challenge and he was damn good at the work—and a new kind of life and rhythm had started, where he and his sire rarely saw each other.

Except then came the invitation: The pleasure of his father and stepmahmen’s company requested at an aristocrat’s home this very evening. Going by the card stock alone, it was clear that other members of the glymera were included on the guest list.

Social gathering? Maybe. Treasonous violation of Wrath’s ban on the Council coming together? More likely.

It had been the first time in a year that Boone had spoken to his sire about anything of note. Yet how could he not urge the male to stay home? That viper pit of aristocrats had already tried to take down Wrath’s throne, and if they were planning another attempt?

The training center had taught him in detail all of the things the Brothers were capable of doing to someone who crossed them. And he might not like his father . . . but that was the point. With his alarm bells going off about treason, if he didn’t at least try to keep the male away from that party, he would feel like he had killed Altamere himself.

And that was too close to what he had at times wanted to do, and who needed to live with that guilt?

Predictably, his father had refused the wise counsel. So Boone had gone to the Brothers directly, and that was why he was paired with a member of the Band of Bastards this fine, crystal-cold winter’s evening.

Refocusing on his hunt, he threw some more speed into his legs, his thighs beginning to burn, his calves tightening, his bum ankle issuing the first of what was going to be a lot of complaints. All of that was background chatter easily ignored, utterly forgettable.

Just breathe, he told himself. The more oxygen he could get into his lungs, the more he got into his blood, fuel for his muscles, speed for his body.

Power.

And what do you know, he was closing the distance. The problem? He was getting farther and farther away from Zypher, who was dancing with a slayer of his own three blocks—now four blocks—back.

Time to do this.

Per protocol, he hit the locator beacon on his shoulder to notify the other squads that he was about to engage. And then he closed his eyes.

Dematerializing was something that vampires ordinarily had to concentrate and calm themselves in order to accomplish. Boone, however, had trained himself to find that place of inner equilibrium even when he was running full tilt boogie in pursuit of the enemy. And courtesy of all his practice, his physical form disintegrated into a scatter of molecules and he shot forward, passing the lesser.

He re-formed in front of the enemy, his boots planted, his knife up and his chain down, ready to party.

The slayer did what it could to slow its roll, arms pinwheeling, shoes slapping at the snow and skidding as it tried to stop on ice. Momentum was not its friend. Unlike some of the scrawny new recruits, this one had a football player’s thick neck and barrel chest, and all that body weight was a boulder bouncing down the side of a mountain, all keep-going instead of back-that-ass-up.

As he had been trained to do, Boone’s peripheral vision imprinted the alley’s contours and possible cover opportunities. His brain also did a lightning-quick assessment of threat potential, cataloguing fire escapes, rooflines, doorways, and windows, all of his instincts feeding information into the calculation of his own safety. On the physical side, his body braced for contact.

And the length of chain began to swing.

Boone wasn’t aware of giving his hand and arm that particular command, but things had started happening like that in the field over the past month. According to the Black Dagger Brother Vishous, there were four levels of skill development: unconsciously unskilled, which meant you didn’t know how much you didn’t know and couldn’t do; consciously unskilled, which was when you began to be aware of how much you needed to develop; consciously skilled, which was the level at which you started to use what you’ve trained yourself to do; and, finally, unconsciously skilled.

Which was what happened when your body moved without your brain having to micromanage every molecule of the attack. When your training formed a basis of action so intrinsic to who you were and what you did in a given situation that you were unaware of any cognition occurring. When you entered “the Zone,” as the Brother Rhage called it.

Boone was in that sweet spot now.

The whirring sound of the chain links circling beside him was soft yet menacing, like the easy breathing of a great beast—and Boone knew the second the slayer was going to move because one of its shoulders lifted and its hips angled ever so slightly.

The knife the lesser had tucked in its hand came flying out at Boone end over end—proof that Boone’s subconscious hadn’t considered quite everything. But his reflexes were on it, jerking his torso to one side, the surge of aggressive energy flowing through him so acute, so pleasurable, it was almost sexual.

His counterattack started with the chain. Licking the links out, he sent them around the slayer’s neck, a snake of metal with a tail that swung wide and doubled up on itself. With a tight loop locked in, he yanked with his full body.

The slayer pitched forward into the snow face-first.

And that was when Boone lifted his own hunting blade over his shoulder.

 

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

In the back of his mind, the tally of his sire’s neglect and condescension was like an electric meter going haywire, the count spiraling up into the stratosphere…

 

You are amazing. I know . . . I know that sounds like a line, but it’s not. You bring me to my knees and lift me up at the same time. It’s the definition of magic.

 

My Review:

 

I have been hearing this author’s name for several years – first as murmurs then loud rumblings and finally as shouted raves; but until now, I had never stopped to read one of the many books from her rather large shelf of offerings. Silly me, what was I thinking? I’m kicking myself… This was fantastic. Despite the need to read slowly while occasionally needing to check the handy and thoughtfully provided glossary of her creatively contrived lexicon, it was well worth the effort. I was quite taken with the cleverness and agile craft of her complex yet captivating world-building.

Being a paranormal novice I had been hesitant to delve in, knowing I was starting the second generation of a long-running and highly venerated series and I would be swimming in alien waters. And, I’m lazy when it comes to extensive world-building. Yet, I was pleasantly surprised, scratch that, I was downright gleeful with my discovery! Even though I found myself sliding into a completely unfamiliar mythology from any vampire lore I’ve ever come across, I had no difficulty following the complexity and didn’t experience the expected struggle in navigating or comprehending the foreign structure of their society and various nomenclatures.

The storylines were action-packed, well-crafted, and laced with sharp wit, keen insights, and evocative observations. I was enthralled, riveted, and highly invested throughout. Ms. Ward’s bewitching and engaging writing style whisked me right inside the core of her secret clan as if I had been granted the vamp power to dematerialize and transport myself there.   Her characters were peculiar, curiously enticing, and uniquely compelling – even the creepy and disturbing ones.

I am a new convert to the Black Dagger Brotherhood and will confess that the last serious vamp book I recall perusing was by Anne Rice in the late 1980s. I am totally enamored with J.R. Ward’s delightfully creative and mesmerizing arrangements of words as well as this new species – they drink hot cocoa and eat ice cream! I may have been turned – I now consider myself a paranormal reader in training.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

J.R. Ward is the author of more than thirty novels, including those in her #1 New York Times bestselling Black Dagger Brotherhood series. There are more than fifteen million copies of her novels in print worldwide, and they have been published in twenty-six different countries around the world. She lives in the South with her family.


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Book Review: One Hundred Secrets (An Aspen Cove Romance Book 10) by Kelly Collins

One Hundred Secrets

(An Aspen Cove Romance Book 10)

by Kelly Collins

Amazon US / UK / AU / CA 

 

Welcome back to Aspen Cove, the town where neighbors and friends have more valued than money….

Social media darling Goldie Sutherland grew up in the limelight. As the daughter of an award-winning movie star, she learned early on how fickle fans can be. Her mother taught her that beauty opens far more doors than brains. When her star-power starts fading fast, she sets out to find a groom in a last-ditch effort to win back her dwindling fan base. Armed with nothing but a handful of cash and desperation, she rides into Aspen Cove searching for prince charming but ends up with a mountain man. Can her fake Mr. Wrong turn out to be Mr. Right?

Tilden Cool came to Aspen Cove to get answers. After finding his great-great-grandmother’s diary, he needs to uncover the truth about a long-ago murder that changed his ancestor’s lives forever. He discovers that clearing his family’s name is going to cost a lot more than he bargained for, so when a beautiful woman in a wedding dress offers him cash in exchange for a favor, he agrees. But as he gets to know Goldie Sutherland, he realizes no good deed goes unpunished.

They both have secrets. They both tell lies. Somewhere in between is love, but can they open themselves up to the truth in order to find it?

Find out in One Hundred Secrets …

 

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

Handshakes were out of the question. Old man Tucker had running water, but Tilden wasn’t sure if he ever used it. Grasping hands was like asking for a dose of the plague.

 

Behind her back, everyone called Sage the little leprechaun, but to her face, they called her ma’am because she demanded respect, plus she basically ran the clinic, and she’d suggested things like tetanus shots and rectal exams for those who irritated her.

 

Don’t get me started on lingerie. I don’t know how girls wear thongs. It’s like flossing your ass. Not once but all day long. And those lacy bras, they chafe the hell out of my nips.

 

“You know how it is, finding a single woman in Aspen Cove is like finding a unicorn.” Tilden chuckled. “Be careful of this one. Her horn is sharp.”

 

I fooled everyone for so long that I started to believe my own lies. Can you believe that I had to look at my driver’s license to know how old I really was?

  

My Review:

 

I got my giggle-snort groove back with a quick, satisfying, and entertaining visit to Aspen Cove. Kelly Collins has never failed me so I knew I’d enjoy my stay as this was book number ten and I will confess to smirking my way through all of the nine previous installments. Keeping current with this odd little hamlet has become a necessity, as I can’t let any of their oddly compelling small-town antics get past me.   I enjoy Ms. Collin’s engaging writing style as well as her clever wit, amusing insights, and snarky observations and descriptions. The storylines were easy to follow and pleasantly appealing while also relevant and topical.

With a new wrinkle for the series, the main characters in this story were not from the expected pool of quirky locals but were unique and original transplants to the area. They had met by chance but had instant chemistry and were well-matched in the art of trading quips and clever banter.

Goldie was a social media influencer living a shallow life until she had lost her sway and found herself out of options, money, friends, ideas, and luck. She arrived in town broke, homeless, and desperate with only a vague awareness of one person living in town who might be willing to help her. I enjoyed the subtle layering of her history and backstory.

Tilden was on a mission to research his ancestors and had kept to himself while doing so, making him a mysterious enigma to the small-town. For the last two years, he had been living in a one-room cabin without running water, think about that, no toilet, no sink to wash your hands, the shower was outside with a tank that required filling and water preheated. I might last for an afternoon, but after that, no can do… but I might consider it if the moonshine was up to speck.

ABOUT KELLY COLLINS   

 

  Goodreads  / Website  / Amazon /

International bestselling author of over 30 novels, Kelly Collins writes with the intention of keeping the love alive. Always a romantic, she blends real-life events with her vivid imagination to create characters and stories that lovers of contemporary romance, new adult, and romantic suspense will return to again and again.

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Book Review: The Lost Vintage by Ann Mah

The Lost Vintage

by Ann Mah

 

HarperCollins | Amazon | B&N

 

400 pages
William Morrow Paperbacks; Reprint edition (August 6, 2019)

“If you enjoyed Sarah’s Key and Kristin Hannah’s The Nightingale, then this wonderful book by Ann Mah is for you.”   — Tatiana de Rosnay

Sweetbitter meets The Nightingale in this page-turning novel about a woman who returns to her family’s ancestral vineyard in Burgundy and unexpectedly uncovers a lost diary, an unknown relative, and a secret her family has been keeping since World War II.

To become one of only a few hundred certified wine experts in the world, Kate must pass the notoriously difficult Master of Wine examination. She’s failed twice before; her third attempt will be her last chance. Suddenly finding herself without a job and with the test a few months away, she travels to Burgundy to spend the fall at the vineyard estate that has belonged to her family for generations. There she can bolster her shaky knowledge of Burgundian vintages and reconnect with her cousin Nico and his wife, Heather, who now oversee day-to-day management of the grapes. The one person Kate hopes to avoid is Jean-Luc, a talented young winemaker and her first love.

At the vineyard house, Kate is eager to help her cousin clean out the enormous basement that is filled with generations of discarded and forgotten belongings. Deep inside the cellar, behind a large armoire, she discovers a hidden room containing a cot, some Resistance pamphlets, and an enormous cache of valuable wine. Piqued by the secret space, Kate begins to dig into her family’s history—a search that takes her back to the dark days of World War II and introduces her to a relative she never knew existed, a great–half aunt who was a teenager during the Nazi occupation.

As she learns more about her family, the line between resistance and collaboration blurs, driving Kate to find the answers to two crucial questions: Who, exactly, did her family aid during the difficult years of the war? And what happened to six valuable bottles of wine that seem to be missing from the cellar’s collection?

 

 

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

I have a constant, nagging undertone of paranoia, like the unrelenting throb of a toothache that I am constantly testing with my tongue.

 

… Rose’s tragic death still haunted me. I found myself scrutinizing my thoughts, wary I would discover some ingrained bias, some inherent prejudice, some evidence that I was genetically predisposed to moral weakness.  

 

My Review:

 

Written in my favorite dual POV and spanning dual timelines, this engagingly written yet angsty book presented a major challenge.   I struggled with the harsh, tense, and oppressive conditions Helene endured before and during WWII, which began long before the German arrived as she suffered a vile and petty stepmother who was prone to selfish behaviors and duplicity. I equally resented her weak father and his neglect in turning a blind eye.   I ground my teeth and seethed and then the German’s arrived and the tension continued to steadily ratchet up the scale, and I began to bite my cuticles.

 

Despite constant and steady efforts, my perusal seemed to advance in tiny increments. My reading appeared to be markedly slower than usual as I often needed to pause and look up unfamiliar French words or Google several delectable sounding and savory tidbits which threatened to derail my dieting efforts.   And that is not to mention the wine – oh, the wine!

 

I quickly fell into Ms. Mah’s vortex, her emotive and insightfully observant writing sucked me right in and bedeviled me thereafter. Her alternating storylines were slowly paced, taut with anxiety, and fraught with peril. Both storylines were sweeping and epically pieced together while the writing was lushly descriptive, highly evocative, and heart-squeezing. In addition to Helene’s WWII experiences, an equally compelling tale was also unraveling in the present-day timeline for Helene’s great-niece, who seemed to have the erroneous impression in her understanding of family history. Poor Helene, she seemed to have been given the wrong end of the stick in both periods.

I was provided with a review copy of this masterfully written tale by HarperCollins and TLC Book Tours.

About the Author

Ann Mah is a food and travel writer based in Paris and Washington DC. She is the author of the food memoir Mastering the Art of French Eating, and a novel, Kitchen Chinese. She regularly contributes to the New York Times’ Travel section and she has written for Condé Nast Traveler, Vogue.com, BonAppetit.com, Washingtonian magazine, and other media outlets.

Find out more about Ann at her website, and connect with her on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Pinterest.