BOOK REVIEW: TWO PRINCES by VICTORIA DANANN - SONS OF SANCTUARY MC # 1 - MC ROMANCE

By: Victoria Danann
Published By: 7th House Publishing
Released: Available Now
Details: Kindle Purchase, 310 Pages

RATING: 3.5 STARS

Blurb: Goodreads

New Biker Romance series from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Victoria Danann. No cliffhangers.

Two brothers, one a player, one a playboy, are on a crash trajectory with destiny and two broken hearts.

BONUS PREQUEL INCLUDED: Intro to the Sons of Sanctuary MC. A Season in Gemini

Brigid was a graduate student at the University of Texas. She had no trouble getting her thesis approved, but finding a Hill Country motorcycle club willing to give her access to their lifestyle was looking impossible. Then she got a lead. A friend of a friend had a cousin with family ties to The Sons of Sanctuary. Perfect. Or was it?

What Brigid wanted was information to prove a proposition. The last thing she had in mind was falling for one of the members of the club. Especially since she was a feminist academic out to prove that motorcycle clubs are organized according to the same structure as primitive tribal society.

Brash was standing in line at the H.E.B. Market when his world tipped on its axis. While waiting his turn to check out, his gaze had wandered to the magazine display and settled on the new issue of “NOW”. The image on the cover, although GQ’d up in an insanely urbane way, was… him. 

After reading the article, Brash threw some stuff in a duffle and left his only home, a room at The Sons of Sanctuary clubhouse, with a vague explanation about needing a couple of days away. He left his truck at the Austin airport and caught a plane for New York, on a mission to find a mysterious guy walking around with his face.



BOOK REVIEW:

This is my second Victoria Danann read, my first being My Familiar Stranger, Knights of Black Swan # 1.

I really enjoyed the bonus prequel story A Season In Gemini. It is a great background introduction.

I did have a little trouble with Two Princes.

Two grown men going to one hell of a lot of trouble to play at essentially ‘The Parent Trap.’ It did feel a little…erm… what is the right word? Immature?

I found it hard to believe an MC guy and a billionaire (twins) wouldn’t just straight up talk to their parents. It felt kinda lost on me the energy they spent setting it all up.

I have to rate this book in the lower range of 3.5 STARS as it just didn’t feel realistic that a billionaire couldn’t just straight up talk to his mother and an MC guy couldn’t just speak to his father about it. Not the way this story was written anyway.

There was no obstacle put in the path of the twins to make them choose the path they took (swapping identities) only to do the big reveal and the parents didn’t have a major reason to not have told two grown men about their brother. There wasn’t like a dirty reason or anything. I think I was looking for some major reason for the whole shenanigans apart from the mother’s father which was kinda lame.

I needed there to be a real purpose to going to the lengths they did rather than just talking it out.

There were other things like Brigid paying $250,000 for something so she could write her thesis. I don't care how much money a student has got, that just seems preposterous to think it's okay to spend that kind of money to get information for a thesis. If it's gonna cost you that kind of money, pick a new idea for your thesis. 

I get what Victoria was doing, but a little OTT.  

BOOK BLITZ - CONTORTED by EMMA JAMES - HELL'S BASTARD # 3 - DARK SUSPENSE ROMANCE - MC ROMANCE

CONTORTED 

Hell's Bastard # 3

Available Now

WRENCHED # 1 - .99C 

BLURB

EDGE

I’ve decided there’s no virtue in patience. 

It’s f*cking torture.

And that goes for DM Christmas songs too.

MATHIAS

Good girl.

Be afraid of me. 

It will make my job easier.

Until she's caught between a desk and a Hell's bastard.

ROSE

I am a shell to be f*cked with.

But I am a survivor.

I have my own Sasha Fierce.

Just give me a reason.

CEZAR

You haven’t seen my bad side yet.

It will leave you speechless.

WHISPER

Opportunity may knock only once, but temptation leans on the doorbell.

Survival has become a waiting game, choreographed by a schedule to keep me complacent.

Mathias and Rose are my constants. 

My frenemies.

What happens when Cezar turns the tables?

Just remember to breathe.

EXTRACT

I chose Slade's extract because a lot of readers know him from the Men Of Ocean Beach series.

He simply had to make it as a crossover character with Phoenix.

CONTORTED 

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WRENCHED 

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BOOK BLITZ - RUIN & RULE by PEPPER WINTERS - PURE CORRUPTION # 1 - MC ROMANCE - HACHETTE

Meet Killian in Pepper Winter’s new MC Romance!

NOW AVAILABLE

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1HGr7ac

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1f574HK

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Blurb

"We met in a nightmare. The in-between world where time had no power over reason. We fell in love. We fell hard. But then we woke up. And it was over . . ."

RUIN & RULE

She is a woman divided. Her past, present, and future are as twisted as the lies she's lived for the past eight years. Desperate to get the truth, she must turn to the one man who may also be her greatest enemy . . .

He is the president of Pure Corruption MC. A heartless biker and retribution-deliverer. He accepts no rules, obeys no one, and lives only to reap revenge on those who wronged him. And now he has stolen her, body and soul.

Can a woman plagued by mystery fall in love with the man who refuses to face the truth? And can a man drenched in darkness forgo his quest for vengeance-and finally find redemption?

"Ruin & Rule is a full-length book at 436 pages and ends on a cliffhanger. Cleo and Kill's story continues in SIN & SUFFER."

Prologue

We met in a nightmare.

The in-between world where time had no power over rhyme, reason, or connection. We met. We stared. We knew.

There was no distortion from the outside world. No right or wrong. No confusion or battles from hearts and minds.

Just us. In our silent dreamworld.

That nightmare became our home. Planting ghosts, raising fantasies. Entwined together in our happily skewed reality.

We fell in love. We fell hard.

In those fleeting seconds of our nightmare, we lived an eternity.

But then we woke up.

And it was over.



Chapter One

I always believed life would grant rewards to those most worthy. I was fucking naïve. Life doesn’t reward—it ruins. It ruins those most deserving and takes everything. It takes everything all while watching any remaining goodness rot to hate.

—Kill


Darkness.

That was my world now. Literally and physically.

The back of my skull hurt from being knocked unconscious. My wrists and shoulders ached from lying on my back with my hands tied behind me.

Nothing was broken—at least it didn’t feel that way—but everything was bruised. The fuzziness receded wisp by wisp, parting the clouds of sleep, trying to shed light on what’d happened. But there was no light. My eyes blinked at the endless darkness from the mask tied around my head. Anxiety twisted my stomach at having such a fundamental gift taken away.

I didn’t move, but mentally catalogued my body from the tips of my toes to the last strand of hair on my head. My jaw and tongue ached from the foul rag stuffed in my mouth and my nose permitted a shallow stream of oxygen to enter—just enough to keep me alive.

Fear tried to claw its way through my mind, but I shoved it away. I deliberately suppressed panic in order to assess my predicament rather than lose myself to terror.

Fear never helps, only hinders.

My senses came back, creeping tentatively, as if afraid whoever had stolen me would notice their return.

Sound: the squeak of brakes, the creak of a vehicle settling from motion to stopping.

Touch: the skin on my right forearm stung, throbbing with a mixture of soreness and sharpness. A burn perhaps?

Smell: dank rotting vegetables and the astringent, pungent scent of fear—but it wasn’t mine. It was theirs.

It wasn’t just me being kidnapped.

My heart flurried, drinking in their terror. It made my breath quicken and legs itch to run. Forcing myself to ignore the outside world, I focused inward. Clutching my inner strength where calmness was a need rather than a luxury.

I refused to lose myself in a fog of tears. Desperation was a curse and I wouldn’t succumb, because I had every intention of being prepared for what might happen next.

I hated the sniffles and stifled sobs of others around me. Their bleak sadness tugged at my heartstrings, making me fight with my own preservation, replacing it with concern for theirs.

Get through this, then worry about them.

I didn’t think this was a simple opportunistic snatch. Whoever had stolen me planned it. The hunch grew stronger as I searched inside for any liquor remnants or the smell of cigarettes.

Had I been at a party? Nightclub?

Nothing.

I hadn’t been stupid or reckless. I think…

No hint or clue as to where I’d been or what I’d been doing when they’d come for me.

I wriggled, trying to move away from the stench. My bound wrists protested, stinging as the rope around them gnawed into my flesh like twine-beasts. My ribs bellowed, along with my head. There was no give in my restraints. I stopped trying to move, preserving my energy.

I tried to swallow.

No saliva.

I tried to speak.

No voice.

I tried to remember what happened.

I tried to remember…

Panic.

Nothing.

I can’t remember.

“Get up, bitch,” a man said. Something jabbed me in the ribs. “Won’t tell you again. Get.”

I froze as my mind hurtled me from present to past.

I’ll miss you so much,” she wailed, hugging me tighter.

“I’m not dying, you know.” I tried to untangle myself, looking over my shoulder at the final call flashing for my flight. I hated being late for anything. Let alone my one chance at escaping and finding out the truth once and for all.

“Call me the moment you get there.”

“Promise.” I drew a cross over my heart—

The memory shattered as my horizontal body suddenly went vertical in one swoop.

Who was that girl? Why did I have no memory of it ever happening?

“I said get up, bitch.” The man breathed hard in my ear, sending a waft of reeking breath over me. The blindfold stole my sight, but it left my nose woefully unprotected.

Unfortunately.

My captor shoved me forward. The ground was steady beneath my feet. The sickness plaiting with my confusion faded, leaving me cold.

My legs stumbled in the direction he wanted me to go. I hated shuffling in the darkness, not knowing where I came from or where I was being herded. There were no sounds of comfort or smothered snickers. This wasn’t a masquerade.

This was real.

This is real.

My heart thudded harder, fear slipping through my defenses. But full-blown terror remained elusive. Slippery like a silver fish, darting on the outskirts of my mind. It was there but fleeting, keeping me clear-headed and strong.

I was grateful for that. Grateful that I maintained what dignity I had left—remaining strong even in the face of the unknown terrors lurking on the other side of my blindfold.

Moans and whimpers of other women grew in decibels as men ordered them to follow the same path I walked. Either death row or salvation, I had no choice but to inch my way forward, leaving my forgotten past behind.

I willed snippets to come back. I begged the puzzlement of my past to slot into place, so I could make sense of this horrible world I’d awoken in.

But my mind was locked to me. A fortress withholding everything I wished to know.

The pushing stopped. So did I.

Big mistake.

“Move.” A cuff to the back of my head sent me wheeling forward. I didn’t stop again. My bare feet traversed…wood?

Bare feet?

Where are my shoes?

The missing knowledge twisted my stomach.

Where did I come from?

How did I end up here?

What’s my name?

It wasn’t the terror of the unknown future that stole my false calmness. It was the fear of losing my very self. They’d stolen everything. My triumphs, my trespasses, my accomplishments and failures.

How could I deal with this new world if I didn’t know what skills I had to stay alive? How could I hope to defeat my enemy when my mind revolted and locked me out?

Who am I?

To have who I was deleted…It was unthinkable.

“Faster, bitch.” Something cold wedged against my spine, pushing me onward. With my hands behind my back, I shuffled faster, negotiating the ground as best I could for dips or trips.

“Step down.” The man grabbed my bound wrists, giving me something to lean against as my toes navigated the small steps before me.

“Again.”

I obeyed.

“Last one.”

I managed the small staircase without falling flat on my face.

My face.

What do I look like?

A loud scraping noise sounded before me. I shied back, bumping against a feminine form. The woman behind me cried out—the first verbal sound of another.

“Move.” The pressure on my lower back came again, and I obeyed. Inching forward until the stuffy air of old vegetables and must was replaced by…copper and metallic…blood?

Why…why is that so familiar?

I gasped as my mind free-fell into another memory.

“I don’t think I can do this.” I darted away, throwing up in the rubbish bin in the classroom. The unique stench of blood curdled my stomach.

“Don’t overthink it. It’s not what you’re doing to the animal to make it bleed. It’s what you’re doing to make it live.” My professor shook his head, waiting for me to swill out my mouth and return white-faced and queasy to the operation in progress.

My heart splintered like a broken piece of glass, reflecting the compassion and responsibility I felt for such an innocent creature. This little puppy that’d been dumped in a plastic bag to die after being shot with BB gun pellets. He’d survive only if I mastered the skills to stem his internal bleeding and embrace the vocation I was called to do.

Inhaling the scent of blood, I let it invade my nostrils, scald my throat, and impregnate my soul. I drank its coppery essence. I drenched myself in the smell of the creature’s life force until it no longer affected me.

Picking up a scalpel, I said, “I’m ready—”

“Holy fuck!” The man guiding me forward suddenly whacked the base of my spine. The hard pain shoved me forward and I tripped.

“Wire—get me fucking reinforcements. He’s started a motherfucking war!”

Wind and body motion swarmed me as men charged from behind. The darkness I lived in suddenly came alive with sound.

Bullets flew, impaling themselves into the metal sides of the vehicle I’d just stepped from. Pings and ricochets echoed in my ear. Curses bellowed; moans of pain threaded like a breeze.

Someone grabbed my arm, swinging me to the side. “Get down!” The inertia of his throw knocked me off balance. With my wrists bound together, I had nothing to grab with, no way to protect myself from falling.

I fell.

My stomach swooped as tumbled off a small platform and smashed against the ground.

Dirt, damp grass, and moldy leaves replaced the stench of blood, cutting through the cloying sharpness of spilled metallic. My mouth opened, gasping in pain. Blades of grass tickled my lips as my cheek stuck to wet mud.

My shoulder screamed with agony, but I ignored the new injury. My mind clung to the unlocked memory. The fleeting recollection of my profession.

I’m a vet.

The sense of homecoming and security that one little snippet brought was priceless. My soul snarled for more, suddenly ravenous for missing information.

I skipped straight from fumbling uncertainty into starvation for more.

Tell me! Show me. Who am I?

I searched inside for more clues. But it was like trying to grab on to an elusive dream, fading faster and faster the harder I chased.

I couldn’t remember anything about medicine or how to heal. All I knew was I’d been trained to embrace the scent of blood. I wasn’t afraid of it. I didn’t faint or suffer sickness at the sight of it pouring from an open wound.

That tiniest knowledge was enough to settle my prickling nerves and focus on the outside world again.

Battle cries. Men screaming. Men growling. The dense thuds of fists on flesh and the horrible deflection of gunshots.

I couldn’t understand. Had I fallen through time and entered an alternate dimension?

Another body landed on top of mine.

I cried out, winded from a sharp poke of an elbow to my ribs.

The figure rolled away, crying softly. Feminine.

Why aren’t I crying?

I once again searched for fear. It wasn’t natural not to be afraid. I’d woken up alone, stolen, and thrown into the middle of a war, yet I wasn’t hyperventilating or panicked.

My calmness was like a drug, oozing over me, muting the sharp starkness of my situation. It was bearable if I embraced courage and the knowledge that I was strong.

My hands balled, grateful for the thought. I didn’t know who I was, but it didn’t matter, because the person who I was in this moment mattered the most.

I had to remain segmented, so I could get through whatever was about to happen. All I had was gut instinct, quiet strength, and rationality. Everything else had been taken.

“Stop fighting, you fucking idiots!”

The loud growl rumbled like an earthquake, hushing the battle in one fell swoop. Whoever had spoken had power.

Immense power. Colossal power.

A shiver darted over my skin.

“What the fuck happened? Have you lost your goddamn lovin’ mind?” a man yelled.

A sound of a short scuffle, then the fresh whiff of tilled dirt graced my nose.

“It’s done. Throw down your weapons and bend a fucking knee.” The same earthquake rumbled. The weight of his command pushed me harder against the damp ground.

“I’m not bending nothing, you asshole. You aren’t my Prez!”

“I am. Have been for the past four years.”

“You’re not. You’re his bitch. Don’t think his power is yours.”

Another fight—muffled fists and kicks. It ended swiftly with a painful groan.

The earthquake voice came again. “Open your eyes and follow the red fucking river. Your chosen—the one you hand-picked to slaughter me and take over the Club—he’s dead. Did you ever stop to think Wallstreet made me Prez for a fucking reason?”

Another moan.

“I’m the chosen one. I’m the one who knows the family secrets, absorbed the legacy, and earned his way into power. You don’t know shit. Nobody does. So bend a fucking knee and respect.”

Another tremor ran down my back.

Silence for a time, apart from the squelch of boots and heavy breathing. Then a barely muttered curse. “You’ll die. One way or another, we won’t put up with a Dagger as a Prez. We’re the Corrupts, goddammit. Having a traitor rule us is a fucking joke.”

“I’m the traitor? The man who obeys your leader? Who guides in his stead? I’m the traitor when you try and rally my brothers in a war?” A heavy thud of a fist connected with flesh. “No…I’m not. You are.”

My mind raced, sucking up noises and forming wild conclusions of what happened before me. Was this World War Three? Was this the apocalypse of the life I couldn’t remember? No matter how I pieced it together, I couldn’t make sense of anything.

The air was thick with anticipation. I didn’t know how many men stood before me. I didn’t know how many corpses littered the ground, or how such violence could be permitted in the world I used to know. But I did know the cease-fire was fragile and any moment it would explode.

A single threat slithered through the grass like a snake. “I’ll kill you, motherfucker. Mark my words. The true Corrupts are just waiting to take you out.”

The gentle foot-thuds of someone large vibrated through the ground. “The Corrupts haven’t existed for four fucking years. The moment I took the seat, it’s been Pure Corruption all the way. And you’re not fucking pure enough for this Club. You’re done.”

I flinched as the sulfuric boom of a gun ripped through the stagnant air.

A crash as a body fell lifeless to the grass. A soft puff of a soul escaping.

Murder.

Murder was committed right before me.

The inherent need to nurture and heal—the part of me that was as steadfast as the beat of my heart—wept with regret.

Death was something I’d fought against on a daily basis, but now I was weaponless.

I hated that a life had been stolen right before me. That I hadn’t been able to stop it.

I’m a witness.

And yet, I’d witnessed nothing.

I’d been privy to a battle but seen nothing. Knew no one. I would never be able to tell who shot whom, or who was right and who was wrong.

My hands shook, even though I managed to stay eerily calm. Am I in shock? And if I was, how did I cure myself?

The woman beside me curled into a ball, her knees digging into my side. My first reaction was to repel away from the touch. I didn’t know who was friend or foe. But a second reaction came quickly; the urge to share my calmness—to let her know that no matter what happened, she wasn’t alone. We faced the same future—no matter how grim.

Voices cascaded over us, whispers mainly, quickly spoken orders. Every sound was heightened. Being robbed of sight made my body seek other ways in which to find clues.

“Get rid of the bodies before daybreak.”

“We’ll go back and make sure we’re still covered.”

“Send out the word. It’s over. The Prez won—no anarchy today.”

Each voice was distinct but my ears twitched only for one: the earthquake rumble that set my skin quivering like quicksand.

He hadn’t spoken since he’d condemned someone to death and pulled the trigger. Every second of not hearing him made my heart trip faster. I wasn’t afraid. I should be. I should be immobile with fear. But he invoked something in me—something primal. Just like I knew I was female and a vet, I knew his voice meant something. Every inch of me tensed, waiting for him to speak. It was wrong to crave the voice of a killer, but it was the only thing I wanted.

Needed.

I need to know who he is.

Wet mud sucked loudly against boots as they came closer.

The woman whimpered, but I angled my chin toward the sound, wishing my eyes were uncovered.

I wanted to see. I wanted to witness the carnage before me. Because it was carnage. The stench of death confirmed it. It was morbid to want to see such destruction, but without my sight all of this seemed like a terrible nightmare. Nothing was grounded—completely nonsensical and far too strange.

I needed proof that this was real.

I needed concrete evidence that I wasn’t mad. That my body was intact, even if my mind was not.

I sucked in a breath as warm fingers touched my cheek, angling my face upward and out of the mud. Strong hands caressed the back of my skull, fumbling with my blindfold.

The anticipation of finally getting my wish to see made me stay still and cooperative in his hold.

I didn’t say a word or move. I just waited. And breathed. And listened.

The man’s breath was heavy and low, interspersed with a quick catch of pain. His fingers were swift and sure, but unable to hide the small fumble of agony.

He’s hurt.

The pressure of the blindfold suddenly released, trading opaque darkness for a new kind of gloom.

Night sky. Moonshine. Stars above.

Anchors of a world I knew, but no recognition of the dark-shrouded industrial estate where blood gleamed silver-black and corpses dotted the field.

I’m alive.

I can see.

The joy at having my eyes freed came and went as blazing as a comet.

Then my life ended as our gazes connected.

Green to green.

I have green eyes.

Down and down I spiraled, deeper and deeper into his clutches.

My life—past, present, and future—lost all purpose the second I stared into his soul.

The fear I’d been missing slammed into my heart.

I quivered. I quaked.

Something howled deep inside with age-old knowledge.

Every part of me arched toward him, then shied away in terror.

Him.

A nightmare come to life.

A nightmare I wanted to live.

If life was a tapestry, already threaded and steadfast, then he was the scissors that cut me free. He tore me out, stole me away, changed the whole prophecy of who I was meant to be.

Jaw-length dark hair, tangled and sweaty, framed a square jaw, straight nose, and full lips. His five-o’clock stubble held remnants of war, streaked with dirt and blood. But it was his eyes that shot a quivering arrow into my heart, spreading his emerald anger.

He froze, his body curving toward mine. Blistering hope flickered across his features. His mouth fell open and love so achingly deep glowed in his gaze. “What—” A leg gave out, making him kneel beside me. His hands shook as he cupped my face, his fingers digging painfully into my cheekbones. “It’s not—”

My heart raced. Yes.

“You know me,” I breathed.

The moment my voice webbed around us, storm clouds rolled over the sunshine in his face, blackening the hope and replacing it with pure hatred.

He changed from watching me like I was his angel to glowering as if I were a despicable devil.

I shivered at the change—at the iciness and hardness. He breathed hard, his chest rising and falling. His lips parted, a rumbling command falling from his mouth to my ears. “Stand up. You’re mine now.”

When I didn’t move, his hand landed on my side. His touch was blocked by clothing but I felt it everywhere. He stroked my soul, tickled my heart, and caressed every cell with fingers that despised me.

I couldn’t suck in a proper breath.

With a vicious push, he rolled me over, and with a sharp blade sliced my bindings. With effortless power, so thrilling and terrifying, he hauled me to my feet.

I didn’t sway. I didn’t cry. Only pulled the disgusting gag from my mouth and stared in silence.

I stared up, up, up into his bright green eyes, understanding something I shouldn’t understand.

This was him.

My nightmare.

About the Author:

Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex.

She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.

Her Dark Erotica books include:

Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)

Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)

Her Grey Romance books include:

Destroyed

STALK Pepper: Website | Pinterest | Facebook | Twitter | Blog | Goodreads

BOOK REVIEW - ARROW'S HELL by CHANTAL FERNANDO - WIND DRAGONS MC # 2 - MC ROMANCE - GALLERY BOOKS

By: Chantal Fernando

Published By: Gallery Books

Released : 16th June 2015

Details: Digital copy via netgalley for honest review from USA publisher.

RATING: 4.5 WIND DRAGONS STARS!

Blurb: Goodreads

Being the younger sister of a Wind Dragons MC member isn’t as great as you’d think it would be.

I can’t escape the details of my brother’s exploits.
No one tells me anything. 

Men who know who I am tend to stay away from me.

And worst of all:
The members of the MC are off-limits.

When Arrow catches my eye, I make it my mission to make him happy again.

When I fall head over heels in love with him, I just hope he will be there to catch me.
And that my brother doesn’t kill him.


BOOK REVIEW by Michelle:

I had a laugh out loud time with Dragon’s Lair, Wind Dragons MC # 1. I enjoyed being introduced to all the lads and their fun characteristics. It was a lighter MC read for the most part.

With Arrow's Hell, it is darker and I will admit I assumed for some unknown reason that I was going to be in Arrow’s head, for a reasonable amount of this book, but that is ok. Just a personal assumption.

I really loved the wonderful twist I got.

Dayum!

I really enjoyed Arrow’s Hell. Tracker is a fave of mine and now so is another character... a new one. I am so looking forward to Tracker’s story up next.

Giddy up!

Oh and Rake, well something tells me he is gonna be a whole pile of naughty to read.

I do recommend this MC series and I'm in for however many books Chantal writes in this series.

Michelle

BOOK REVIEW - DRAGON'S LAIR by CHANTAL FERNANDO - WIND DRAGONS MC # 1 - MC ROMANCE - SIMON & SCHUSTER - GALLERY BOOKS

By: Chantal Fernando

Published By: Simon & Schuster, Gallery Books

Released : Available Now

Details: Paperback from publisher for honest review, 273 Pages

RATING: 4.5 DEX, TRACKER, ARROW, RAKE, IRISH & PROSPECT VINNIE STARS!

Blurb: Goodreads

The first in a new sexy romance series from bestselling author Chantal Fernando about the bad boys of the Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club and the women who fall in love with them.

When I found my boyfriend cheating on me, I did something stupid.

Or should I say, someone?

Because of that mistake, I’m now stuck in a world I don’t belong in.

I’m a law student. They’re criminals. He’s the vice president of a motorcycle club. I’m a good girl with a strict upbringing. He’s my ex-boyfriend’s brother.

And I’m screwed.

BOOK REVIEW by Michelle:

I really loved Dragon’s Lair. It is a lighter MC read, granted, but I believe this was done deliberately so I am rating accordingly. 

What I like foremost in a book is the feeling I get when I connect with the main characters. If I don’t have that, I got nothing. 

I loved, Dex aka Sin, Tracker, Arrow, Rake, Irish and also prospect, Vinnie.

These lads all make an entrance and show us a little bit more of their personality in this first instalment.

They are fun, yet there is still this dangerous don’t fark with me, about them.

I did get a twist in the story I didn’t see coming, and I like when that happens.

There are fun moments and there are deeper moments. 

This was a super quick read for me about the same time it takes me to read an Abbi Glines , Sea Breeze novel.

I have been reading a lot of looonnnggg books lately and Dragon's Lair arrived on my doorstep from the publisher and I cracked it open late that night. 

Chantal kept me up until 2.49am and I finished it off in the morning. It was only like a three to four hour read for me.

What I liked about this MC read was Chantal made it her own. She wasn’t afraid to have Faye behave the way she did around the Wind Dragons members, even Jimbo, LOL! 

I will leave you to work that out.

I am really looking forward to reading Arrow’s Hell next.

Here’s a taste of Arrow. 

I walk out into the kitchen the next morning rubbing my eyes. I stop in my tracks as I see a man standing over the stove.

Naked.

He has an extremely white ass and is frying something in the pan.

“There goes my appetite,” I mutter to myself. Arrow turns around, completely unabashed.

“Mornin’,” he says, checking out my pajamas. I stare at his huge penis in horror but am unable to move my eyes away. Suddenly, it gets hard, pointing right at me. Like an arrow.

Lightbulb moment.

“Seriously?” I say, covering my eyes with my hand.

“Bit late for that,” he says, chuckling. “I saw you looking.”

“And I saw you saw me looking,” I reply, pouring myself some juice and averting my gaze.

“I think I had the wrong idea about you...” he says, turning back to the stove.

“How so?”

He shrugs. “Thought you were some tramp trying to trap Dex.”

“And how do you know I’m not?” I ask him.

“Good sense of character,” he says. “I’m never wrong.”

“Bold claim,” I say as he turns around. My eyes straight away lower. I can’t even help it.

I point at it when he takes a step in my direction. “Don’t being that thing near me!”

He laughs. “It won’t bite you; don’t worry.”

“You’re weird,” I announce.

He shakes his head. “Do you just say the first thing that pops up into your fuckin’ head?”

I think it over. “Pretty much. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Probably.”


Just for the record, I would have peeked too.

Michelle

June 16th 2015

Giddy Up!

BOOK COVER REVEAL - REAPER'S FALL by JOANNA WYLDE - REAPER'S MC # 5 - BIKER ROMANCE

Reaper's Fall is the newest standalone in the Reaper's MC Series. 

Painter & Melanie's story will be available on November 10th and 

is currently up for Pre-order! 

Blurb : 

He never meant to hurt her.

Levi “Painter” Brooks was nothing before he joined the Reapers motorcycle club. The day he patched in, they became his brothers and his life. All they asked in return was a strong arm and unconditional loyalty—a loyalty that’s tested when he’s caught and sentenced to prison for a crime committed on their behalf.

Melanie Tucker may have had a rough start, but along the way she’s learned to fight for her future. She’s escaped from hell and started a new life, yet every night she dreams of a biker whose touch she can’t forget. It all started out so innocently—just a series of letters to a lonely man in prison. Friendly. Harmless. Safe.

Now Painter Brooks is coming home… and Melanie’s about to learn that there’s no room for innocence in the Reapers MC.

Pre-order available at the following retailers: 

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1DsDyRt

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1yYt1Rn

Nook: http://tinyurl.com/pljucpa

iBooks: http://tinyurl.com/pwfxzyj

BLOG TOUR - SILVER BASTARD by JOANNA WYLDE - SILVER VALLEY # 1 - BERKLEY - MC ROMANCE

By: Joanna Wylde
Published By: Berkley
Released: Available Now
Details: Digital copy for honest review, 448 Pages

RATING: 5 PUCK STARS!

Blurb: Goodreads

First in the new Silver Valley series from the New York Times bestselling author of the Reapers Motorcycle Club Novels 

Fourteen months. For fourteen months, Puck Redhouse sat in a cell and kept his mouth shut, protecting the Silver Bastards MC from their enemies. Then he was free and it was time for his reward—full membership in the club, along with a party to celebrate. That’s when he saw Becca Jones for the first time and set everything in motion. Before the night ended he’d violated his parole and stolen her away from everything she knew.

Five years. It was five years ago that Puck destroyed Becca and saved her all in one night. She’s been terrified of him ever since, but she’s even more terrified of the monsters he still protects her from... But Becca refuses to let fear control her. She’s living her life and moving forward, until she gets a phone call from the past she can't ignore. She has to go back, and there’s only one man she can trust to go with her—the ex-con biker who rescued her once before.

Puck will help her again, but this time it’ll be on his terms. No more lies, no more tears, and no more holding back what he really wants...
This edition only: A new Silver Valley story

BOOK REVIEW by Michelle:

“Thought you weren’t that kind of girl.” 

I tried to breathe. “What kind of girl?”

“My kind.”

I was lucky enough to receive an ARC of Silver Bastard the first in the spin off MC series, Silver Valley.

This is Puck Redhouse, former prospect and Becca’s story.

Joanna certainly started this new series off with a bang.

Puck has already done time for his club. He is loyal and he is tough. It’s time to celebrate his release... 

Enter Becca.

Joanna gives us a little shock to our system and then she lets us ride along with Puck as he and Becca sort themselves out.



“You dance like that with a lot of men?” I shook my head quickly. His eyes grew hot, smothering me, and I had the feeling that we were an instant away from something I couldn’t handle.

Love isn’t easy, it can come with baggage and demons and it takes effort to release those demons and to find trust.

Puck is absolutely gorgeous, he got my motor running. Becca is not a push-over, she has had a lot to deal with from those she should have been able to trust in.



“Dragging your ass out of there seems to have given you the wrong impression about me, Becs. Do not think for one minute that I’m the kind of guy who does the right thing. That’s not my style. I’m the guy who does what he wants when he wants, and trust me when I say I didn’t do nearly enough to you that night to get you out of my system.”

There is your normal MC shenanigans going on in the background of Puck and Becca’s story, the danger, grit, violence, betrayal, suspense...the SEX, but what a ride it was.

Joanna knows how to write Alpha men who jump off the page at you.

I look forward to reading more of Joanna’s works.

Michelle

BOOK BLITZ - SILVER BASTARD by JOANNA WYLDE - SILVER VALLEY # 1 - MC ROMANCE

Meet Puck & Becca on April 7th!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1L800mj

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1Jo5nlE

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/19pOdnS

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1FquTTu

iBooks: http://apple.co/1xqL0tv

Blurb

First in the new Silver Valley series from the New York Times bestselling author of the Reapers Motorcycle Club Novels.

Fourteen months. For fourteen months, Puck Redhouse sat in a cell and kept his mouth shut, protecting the Silver Bastards MC from their enemies. Then he was free and it was time for his reward--full membership in the club, along with a party to celebrate. That's when he saw Becca Jones for the first time and set everything in motion. Before the night ended he'd violated his parole and stolen her away from everything she knew.

Five years. It was five years ago that Puck destroyed Becca and saved her all in one night. She's been terrified of him ever since, but she's even more terrified of the monsters he still protects her from... But Becca refuses to let fear control her. She's living her life and moving forward, until she gets a phone call from the past she can't ignore. She has to go back, and there's only one man she can trust to go with her--the ex-con biker who rescued her once before.

Puck will help her again, but this time it'll be on his terms. No more lies, no more tears, and no more holding back what he really wants...

Excerpt from Silver Bastard 

“The Longnecks—they’re the MC my stepdad hung around with—they kept a lot of club whores around. Do the Silver Bastards do that, too?”

“Yup,” she replied. “It’s a free country and the brothers bring guests here all the time. Some of them stick around, some of them don’t. Some find they aren’t as welcome as they thought.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Boonie’s dick is the only one that matters to me,” she replied, her voice matter-of-fact. “As for the women, I care less about who they’re sleeping with than how they act the rest of the time. Like I said, fuck with the sisters and you won’t last. Bridget won’t be back if she keeps this shit up.”

“Old ladies didn’t get to make those decisions in the Long- necks.”

Darcy smiled sweetly. “We don’t get to make those decisions in the Silver Bastards, either. Yet the right decisions still magically happen. Nobody knows how, really. Guess it’s just all our good karma coming back to us.”

My mouth dropped. Darcy winked.

“You think those men don’t need us?” she asked. “Boonie likes sleeping next to me. Gets cold and lonely when all the old ladies take a girls’ weekend in Seattle. Would be even colder and lonelier if we didn’t come back, and one time we forgot to for nearly a week. Fortunately things worked out and we found our way home again. Now things tend to work out faster.”

My eyes went wide.

“You serious?”

“Do I look like a woman who will eat shit?”

Point taken.

“Let’s get this trash out. I’m sure Puck will be looking for you soon, and I want to make sure all the girls meet you first. That boy’s crazy about you—it’s cute. Like a pit bull crushing on a kitten.”

About the Author:

Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in Idaho.

Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads