***NEW RELEASE*** Drunk Boy by Aubrie Lee

Drunk Boy, is LIVE and FREE with Kindle Unlimited!
Buy or Borrow on Kindle Unlimited
Was it a push from above, or just too many shots? 

We were both drunk, that’s my excuse.
He had just broken up with his fiancé, that’s his excuse.
But we both want to do it again.

Miguel Mancinelli isn’t anybody’s idea of a typical Daddy.
He’s twenty-two years younger than Dallas Coulter.
He’s physically bigger, but too rough around the edges to take care of anyone, but himself and his club. 
Yet, the day they meet everything changes… can they really blame it on the drinks?

Fifty Shades of Shit?

This blog post was originally intended to be my review of Fifty Shades of Grey, the movie. It will be, but after all of the internet savaging from both sides of the fence on the subject matter, I wanted to get my point across.

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I rushed to my local picture house two days after the movie was released. I wanted to love the movie and everything about it. I think most people were worried it wouldn’t have the right mixture of story and sex.

They were right to be worried, for me there wasn’t enough of both. I was astounded at actually how much nudity there was in the film. Now, I’m all up for nakedness, but I was a little sad at how much story we missed. I think most fans thought there wouldn’t be enough sex…

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Dornan as Grey was always the wrong choice for me personally, but I’m not sure they would have ever have got it right to suit everyones tastes. FSoG fans are nothing if not precious over who played the part of Mr. Grey whilst they were reading. Dornan has made his personal views on BDSM quite clear in the media, that has spoilt my ideology on who could pull off such a part. I feel he has held back from playing the role to the fullest.

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However, the casting of Ana made the film, she was perfect. My friend pointed out that the film was almost a dark rom-com in places…I couldn’t agree more. We were both a little taken aback that the word vanilla was never used during the movie, when it played such a big part in the book.

In summary, I didn’t hate it, but I didn’t love it either. The producers have successfully pulled off a rather shocking film adaptation…I think that was probably their goal, they’ve achieved that much. In doing so they’ve skipped out rather a lot of story, a story that I rather enjoyed. I would award it three stars for shock factor at least.

I read the books at the peak of their hype. I was a field marketing manager at the time, and I’d never seen such a phenomena. We, as a company, were contracted to place books on shelves in the correct chart position for a leading UK supermarket, keeping them topped up. During FSoG’s peak phase this was impossible, we were only contracted to do so many hours a day on that task…those hours simply weren’t enough to keep that section of shelf even half full.

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I read all three books within a week, I can’t say I was wowed by the writing, okay not even a little bit impressed. I’d have to agree with the critics and say the language was childish, some sex scenes were unrealistically written, and the dialogue a touch unoriginal and repetitive. I couldn’t stand Christian Grey for the most part of book one, but there was something that kept me hooked. Maybe it was knowing that there was more to the story than met the eye? Perhaps, it was wanting to watch Anastasia catch the uncatchable man? Whatever it was, the author did most of her job by keeping me reading.

There are hoards of people out there that hate FSoG, they will tell you every time you mention it that Christian Grey is in fact a physically and emotionally abusive, rapist. I honestly think that’s subjective. I never got the impression that Ana was being raped or abused. I think if you stepped back and read every smutty book with a strong male character and a weaker woman you could say the same for each one, it’s down to how you view it.

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To say that FSoG promotes rape and abuse is down right ludicrous. That’s like saying that I promote biting, blood drinking, sleeping around, and murder in my books. Although, I do like a nibble every now and then ;). Or, if you want to go further you could say that any works of fiction containing evil, murder, and violence are promoting the contents therein. What I read when I read FSoG is clearly very different to what others have read. I saw a girl enraptured by a man, a man who most definitely and undeniably a control freak with some different sexual tastes. I didn’t see Ana resist his pursuits, I saw a girl who wanted a man enough to go along with it all in the hope she could change him. Guess what…I see that everyday.

To me, the FSoG series promotes compromise, Ana wants a ‘normal’ relationship, Christian wants a submissive. By the end of it all they both get exactly what they want somewhere in the middle. They are both consenting adults and I’ve seen people do stranger things in the pursuit of love.

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I’m not misguided enough to believe that FSoG portrays a true reflection of a BDSM relationship. But then again, I’m also not misguided enough to believe that there are helicopter flying, twenty something, multi-millionaire CEO’s hanging around the roof tops of Seattle waiting to usher young impressionable women into rooms filled with whips and chains either. Much the same with Ana…looks like that, is a virgin, and never masturbated? Get real.

I think it’s very important to keep things in perspective. I feel like people are losing their shit over this book/film more than needed. I’ve stared domestic violence/abuse in the face, it’s a very emotive and upsetting subject. I didn’t see that within the pages of this book.

I do welcome all comments on this blog, in a structured way. I will not allow petty, nasty behaviour. An opinion and how you arrived at it would be constructive for either side of the argument.

***REVIEW*** Point of Release by Remy Landon.

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If you scroll down you’ll see that I reviewed Point of Submission, the first in this two part series. I loved the smooth simplicity and flow of Remy’s writing style but I wasn’t wowed by the story line.

This book is where things changed. This story was different to most romance novels I’ve read, and trust me, I’ve read a lot. I know the author will be pleased to know that I loved it.

Her writing style is still amazing, seamless and beautiful. I absolutely couldn’t put this book down…I mean, how very dare my children speak to me!

The pain, feelings of loss, need, and gut wrenching love held me captive from page one through till the last one. My heart ached the whole way through. I begged for Cassandra to give in to Carlo to rid the dull ache in my chest every time my eyes scanned the pages, or in this case my iPhone.

When she introduced Josh, a sexy, calming and gorgeous new work mate my heart screamed ‘No!’, but my head agreed he was probably the safest choice for her. But, meh! Who wants safe when you can have sexy, dangerous, captivating, hotness? Not this girl.

This storyline was different in two ways…firstly she did NOT give in to him. He pursued her in ways that made me long to meet this man, have him break my heart, and my trust in the sexiest of ways and then fight to win me back. This story is focussed on their own personal battles as well as the one between them. They worked through them separately.

Secondly, Carlo was chasing the hell out of Cassandra. It was clear, even to him, that he was doggone in love with her. However, when a woman is all out offering herself to a hot blooded male met with iron resistance from the woman he truly wants he’s gonna’ take it. That for me was beautifully realistic. I love realistic in a book and Landon did not fail to impress. I was also glad because her sex scenes are smokin’.

Also, when the end comes…which unfortunately it did, you won’t feel like it was rushed. You’ll feel satisfied that Carlo and Cassandra are real, they’ll be together forever, because she took her time and felt sure before she gave her heart away.

I’m truly sad that it doesn’t look as though Landon is producing another book in this series. I’d have liked to have seen what came next for the couple. That said, I’m a true Remy Landon fan forever.

I award, a truly deserved 5 stallions to Point of Release.

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Buy links:

US: http://www.amazon.com/Point-Release-Remy-Landon-ebook/dp/B00PB72PGY/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1418251003&sr=8-1&keywords=POINT+OF+RELEASE

UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Point-Release-Remy-Landon-ebook/dp/B00PB72PGY/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1418250960&sr=8-1&keywords=POINT+OF+RELEASE

Contact the author:

https://www.facebook.com/authorremylandon

‘Falling to Pieces’ Blog tour stops.

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I’m pleased to announce the dates and details of the ‘Falling to Pieces’ blog tour.
I’d also like to take this oppurtunity to thank each and every blogger for featuring me on their blog.
The tour will be running from the 16th – 31st of August 2013.
16th – Beginnings in Writing – Author interview – http://beginingsinwriting.wordpress.com/
17th – Jake Bonsignore – Guest post – http://jakebonsignore.wordpress.com/
18th – Fiction’s Our Addiction – Review – http://fictionsouraddiction.wordpress.com/
19th – Rose & Beps Blog – Guest post –  http://rosebeps.blogspot.co.uk/
20th – Adventures in Reading – Excerpt – http://adventuresinreading16.blogspot.co.uk/
21st – M’s Sinful Reviews – Review – http://mssinfulreviews.blogspot.co.uk/
22nd – Just One More Romance Novel – Excerpt – http://justonemoreromance.blogspot.com/
23rd – She Reads New Adult – Review – http://www.shereadsnewadult.com
24th – Little Read Riding Hood – Review – http://littlereadridinghood.com/
25th – Tabby’s Tantilizing Reviews – Excerpt – http://tabbystantalizingreviews.blogspot.co.uk/
26th – Mousiey Books – Review – http://mousiey.blogspot.co.uk/?zx=6eadd5933db25ba8
27th – Beginnings in Writing – Excerpt –  http://beginingsinwriting.wordpress.com/
28th – Babu’s Bookshelf – Author Interview – http://babusbookshelf.blogspot.co.uk/
29th – The AKA Book Harlots Review – Review – https://www.facebook.com/AkaTheBookHarlotsReview
31st – My Book Opolis – Review – http://mybookopolis.com
           Babu’s Bookshelf – Review – http://babusbookshelf.blogspot.co.uk/
It would be great if you followed these blogs, then you won’t miss a thing. I am writing different posts and choosing different excerpts for each blog, so no two will be the same. 🙂

Falling to Pieces – Chapter One

In celebration of reaching over 1000 likes on my Facebook page, and ‘Falling to Pieces going live on Amazon, both in paperback and Kindle editions, I’m posting Chapter One. Hope you all like it.

Chapter One 

I fought against sleep, desperately trying to force my eyelids open. The crate I was inside jolted on a hard surface. I caught the words of apologies from the handlers before falling back into unconsciousness for a moment.

The crate was back on the move, disturbing me once again. I wanted to slam my fists on the wood at tell them I’d walk myself, but I kept falling back to sleep before I got the chance.

My bare feet pressed hard against the silk lining as the box tilted at an angle. On the outside it appeared to be an ordinary wooden cargo container, not unlike one you’d see if you shipped a large amount of wine over from foreign shores. The inside was a different story altogether, having been padded and lined with the finest Chinese silk.

The journey had been nothing but a pain in the ass, or arse, as I should say now that we’re in England. I hated with a passion being cooped up.

I recognised the clunk of metal connecting with the wood, gently easing the nails out to reveal my resting place. The highly paid handlers quickly moved to take me out of the box. They gingerly lifted me out before placing me on the bed. My eyes flickered open for a moment with the sensation of being lifted. I wanted to struggle against them and climb into the bed by myself, but the energy needed wasn’t available with the sun still in the sky. I settled into a deep undisturbed sleep as the men left my bedroom.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long for the sun to set. I woke with a start, unsettled by my unfamiliar surroundings.

Flopping back down on the Egyptian cotton sheet, I wrinkled my nose at the memory of voluntarily climbing into the large wooden crate. Everything I needed I’d had with me, but there’s nothing pleasant about being nailed into a crate for any amount of time, regardless of the decor.

I squeezed my eyes shut, grimacing at the recollection of my father’s harsh tone. He’s not exactly my father in the traditional sense, but it’s an appropriate name for him because he made me into what I am today.

“Now, Teagan, you must remember not to fidget,” he chastised me with a stony expression etched on his face.

I’d considered telling him to go fuck himself. I didn’t want to leave America, but the electric pull of his possession forced me to follow wherever he chose to go. That was simply the way things were. The desire to be with my maker was too strong to ignore.

Like a good little fledgling, I’d smiled sweetly at him instead.

“Yes, father. You have told me many times of the importance of not moving around. I do remember the first time. Did I let you down then?”

The first time we’d travelled thousands of miles, the Wright brothers hadn’t even been born, let alone invented the airplane.

I remembered Thomas, my maker and saviour giving me the same instructions in 1853 when we’d boarded the ship named Washington, bound for New York.

Back then, I’d hung on to his every word like a little puppy.

Thomas had stroked my cheek with his cold fingers. His dark blue eyes were bright and glossy, gazing into mine with heart-warming sincerity.

“Listen to me my dear child,” his voice sounded so soft, almost a whisper. I raised my face closer to his.

“You must remember to keep as still as possible. If we are discovered in the crates we’ll be considered stowaways. There will be no way for us to hide from the sun.”

I’d nodded my understanding, completely at his command. I was so new at being a vampire that I shined and sparkled like a new pin to adorn him with a trophy child and a pet project.

Sweetly, he’d waited outside of my crate whilst I’d lowered myself down with my face turned up to his and my eyes wide with fear. Thomas had lowered his smiling lips to my pale cheek after I’d lain down.

“You will be safe now, my love,” he’d said.

I understood why we had to go. It was impossible to stay in Ireland now. My family thought me dead and it was best for everyone that they continued to believe that.

He straightened himself back up and turned to his servants, his expression changing to a business like quality, all gentleness vanishing.

“Seal her crate,” he barked at the highly paid men that were escorting us. The lid was nailed shut.

I slept for the majority of the first few days before one of Thomas’ servants released us. We were well into the trip by then and I’d run out of the supplies that had been placed in the crate with me. It took all the will I had to stop myself from draining the servant dry.

For six weeks, the servants would let us out of the crates to feed on the unsuspecting crew and passengers.

When the ship docked in New York, they were around one hundred passengers lighter. Of course, not every death could be attributed to Thomas and me. Some had been taken by disease or pure misfortune. If it had been nowadays, they wouldn’t have died from our feeding at all. The lack of food and nutrition onboard had made the humans weak, too weak to sustain blood loss.

I slipped off my bed, bringing myself back to reality, and walked into the bathroom, flipping the light on more out of habit than necessity. My vision was perfect in the darkness, after taking a moment to adjust anyway.

I inspected myself in the mirror whilst removing the clothes I’d been wearing for days, discarding them on the floor. I’ve got ginger hair. Ok, maybe not ginger, I’m somewhere in between red and blonde. It irritates the hell outta’ me.

If my hair colour was red or blonde I suspect I’d be a bit happier. I’ve bleached and dyed it before, only to wake up the next night and find the mane is back to normal, stuck in purgatory between the two colours and ramrod straight. I even shaved my head once, the whole damn lot, but I woke to find the tresses had re-grown back down to my waist.

At least my transition couldn’t affect the pallor of my skin. I’ve always been pale with freckles scattered about most of my body. A consequence of being Irish I figured.

As a human, my oval shaped eyes were a dark blue, but since the change they’ve become cyan speckled with flecks of violet, as if my body couldn’t decide what it wanted.

“For goodness sake, Teagan!” Thomas bellowed from the doorway of my bathroom.

I continued my gaze into the mirror.

“What alarms you about clothes?” Thomas asked.

I viewed him out the corner of my eye—he’d turned to face away from my exposed body.

“Well, Thomas, this is my bathroom and my bedroom. Are you afraid of knocking?”

I selected the mascara from the contents of the bag next to the sink. I unscrewed the lid and began applying the gloopy black substance to my eyelashes whilst trying to act as if he’d gone.

“Well, I didn’t want you to become—over hungry.”

I stomped past him, making no attempt to cover up my nakedness, back into my large bedroom.

“Fear not, father. I’m going out now.”

“By yourself?” His voice was high-pitched with incredulity. “You won’t have any idea of where to go. We’re not in Montana now, Teagan. You don’t know London.”

I rolled my eyes in another direction, unwilling to look at him. I pretended to inspect the crimson pattern on the feature wall as I pulled on some jeans, not bothering with underwear, I was too hungry to mess around. I’d selected the décor for my room while we were still in Montana, and I was happy to see the decorators had pulled off my vision to perfection.

“I’m well aware of where we are, thank you very much, father. You know I prefer to feed by myself, without any of your corrections.” I snatched up the green silk shirt, the material slithered over my skin sending the nerve endings to alert. I was a little excited at the thought of tasting new blood, English blood.

“I’m sorry, Teagan. Of course, I forgot, you can’t take constructive criticism. I only endeavour to help you improve yourself,” he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm and his eyes narrowed with severity.

Thomas’ Italian leather shoes spun on the thick red pile carpet as his slim figure, a blur, flashed out the walnut door after swinging the heavy wood back hard on the hinges.

I raised an eyebrow as “dick-head,” escaped my mouth without consideration.

I slumped down on the California king bed. Actually, I had been behaving like a sulky teenager. Thomas had given me everything anyone could ever wish for. He’d saved me from a sad existence. There were some things in my human life that I felt I’d missed out on because I had to leave. It caused me pain to even think about those things, and I never talked about them. But I knew that everything he did and continues to do, he does for me.

The move to London had annoyed me. I had no idea why we’d come here, and I’d never been offered an explanation of any kind.

Our lives in Montana were remote and lonely. It wasn’t as if I had left anything that I loved behind. I should have been grateful for the streams of people and the bright lights of the city.

Huffing at my own behaviour, I slipped my feet into green ballet style shoes. I filled my nostrils with air as I stepped out into the hallway, trying to sniff Thomas out. The house was huge, so it took me a while to trace him to the drawing room.

I hovered by the door while he pretended not to realise I was there. His eyes remained firmly on the book he was clutching with white knuckles. He sat in a salmon coloured winged back chair next to the intricate stone fireplace with pinched lips and a stiff posture.

“Father,” I said quietly, my voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

“What?” he snapped, not bothering to grant me a glance.

“I’m so sorry for my behaviour. You’re right. I’m acting like an adolescent. Can you forgive me? We could start afresh.”

“You know I will,” he said, his eyes meeting mine finally as he softened his expression. “Can you forgive me for bringing you to London?”

“It’s not so bad.” I smiled while waving my hand around the plush room. “Any chance we discuss our new beginning later? I’m so hungry.”

He shook himself, as if he had forgotten that I hadn’t eaten in days.

“Of course, my love. I suggest you go to Hyde Park. It’s a few minutes walk, if you head south you can’t miss it. I shouldn’t think you’d encounter any problems.”

I nodded letting my smile reach my eyes.

I threw the front door open after descending the stairs. The air, still quite warm and doused with pollution, served as another reminder I no longer lived in a countryside location.

Skipping down the front steps I took in the scene on the street. The houses around me glowed thanks to the streetlights lining the pavement. All of the houses resembled the one I lived in, painted a clean, creamy ivory colour. The doors and railings wrapping around them were painted black in stark contrast. They were rowed neatly with bevelled triangular carvings in them, tall, proud and narrow structures.

I couldn’t believe the cleanliness of the streets. I’d always imagined London would be dirty for some reason.

As directed by Thomas, I reached the edge of the park within a few minutes and took a path lined with globular street lamps casting a white pearly light.

Spotting a bank of trees, I walked over to them pressing the length of my body against the bark and laying my cheek against the roughness. I closed my eyes and breathed in the earthy goodness. I’d already been missing the countryside, just in that short walk.

The traffic noises from a nearby road drowned out my thoughts, so I concentrated on blocking them all out. My brain finally cut out the background noise. The lapping water of the river running parallel to the park and the wind rattling the soft leaves and grass soothed me. It made me feel at one with the nature surrounding me despite being in the middle of the city.

My eyes snapped open as I became aware of the vibration of footsteps, too clunky and unrefined to be an animal.

As the human came closer, I could hear their ragged breath and a heartbeat pumping the delicious blood through their veins.

My eyes found him—a stout man, short, fat and bald. His suit was grey and crumpled. His whitecollar hung open, the tie swung with his movements having been loosened off, leaving his fleshy neck exposed.

He started to pass where I stood, and in a blurry flash I snatched his large body and extended my fangs. I forced him against the tree as my newly revealed teeth stabbed into his neck. My mouth filled with sweet, rich, sticky liquid, tinged with the taste of alcohol.

He groaned for a second before the venom provided anaesthetic relief.

I wrapped my arms around his huge waist and shifted his body gently down to the grass so I was kneeling beside him. I pulled my teeth out of his neck whilst placing my hand over his mouth.

The man’s eyes flew wide open for a split second before the make-up of the venom had a chance to convert in his blood stream. When he flinched, that told me the process had completed. The poison from my fangs had wiped his memory of my attack forever. I moved my hand from his mouth to his cheek so fast any human would fail to notice.

“Are you ok, Mister?” I asked him frowning.

“Whoa—what happened?”

“A cyclist knocked you flying and you fell unconscious for a moment or two.”

“A cyclist knocked me over?” he echoed in an uncertain tone, swallowing hard. “I feel a bit dizzy.”

“Well, you’ve had a shock. Here, let me help you up.” I rose with grace from my place beside him and extended my hand. I didn’t want to draw this out for longer than I had to. I was eager to explore the city.

He grasped my hand with no consideration for our weight difference, probably a good thing because I didn’t want him to take notice of my considerable strength.

I began brushing him down trying to stifle a giggle, my actions reminding me of a mother inspecting her child before sending him off to school.

“I’d go home if I were you, see how you are in the morning,” I advised. He nodded, blinking rapidly and glancing around.

“Um, thanks,” he said before sluggishly ambling away.

I walked a few metres to sit down on a wooden bench. I wanted to bask in the warmth of being full and satisfied. My head dropped back and rested on the backrest. My eyes were half open as a smile curled the edges of my lips.

Without warning my whole body jerked, every muscle became tense. I realised instinct had positioned me on the pathway in a crouch, ready to pounce.

I swished back into the tree line where I’d come from, my blue and purple irises alert, ready for what created the magnificent aroma that I was breathing in deeply.

What is that?’ I’d never smelled anything like it before. It was indescribable because it was so many things. Open lilies, baking bread, freshly cut grass, all intertwined to create something wonderful.

I focussed my attention back on the path, honing my vision on the delectable source of the scent.

The aroma came from a man walking purposefully through the park.

How could a human smell so divine? He certainty appeared to be just a human, but then I supposed I did, too. His shoes tapped across the walkway. Though, to me, each gentle footstep seemed to magnify into great big booms. My attention belonged solely to him.

He stopped in his tracks, his eyebrows knitting together creasing his perfect olive skin.

My nails dug into the bark, exposing the flesh of the tree.

He snorted in the scented air just as I had been, like a cocaine addict simply unable to stop filling his nose. He glanced around before he continued his liquid movements down the path past the tree that I clung to for support.

If you liked it, here are the links:

UK Customers:

Kindle edition: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Falling-to-Pieces-ebook/dp/B00E6SH4VK/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1375213080&sr=1-2&keywords=falling+to+pieces

Paperback: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Falling-to-Pieces-ebook/dp/B00E6SH4VK/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1375214503&sr=1-2&keywords=falling+to+pieces

 

US Customers:

Kindle edition: http://www.amazon.com/Falling-to-Pieces-ebook/dp/B00E6SH4VK/ref=sr_1_16?ie=UTF8&qid=1375214571&sr=8-16&keywords=Falling+to+pieces

Paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Falling-Pieces-L-T-Kelly/dp/1490952012/ref=sr_1_10?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1375214660&sr=1-10&keywords=Falling+to+pieces

  

SIGNED COPIES OF FALLING TO PIECES WITH FREE BOOKMARK:

UK Customers:

https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&hosted_button_id=G4R59GRXVNX4L

(Of course, if I am able to deliver postage will be refunded.)

European Customers:

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USA Customers:

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Driven by K Bromberg.

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I finished reading ‘Driven’ by K Bromberg late last night. I got the book from Amazon whilst it was free, but I would happily have paid for it.

Because of the cover I initially thought that the book was going to be like ’50 Shades of Grey’, I’m not going to hide the fact that they were my guilty pleasure. Yes, the love interest, Colton, is absolutely gorgeous, rich, talented and has a dark past. But thats where the similarity ends.

The story is told from the view of Rylee, a real woman. No, really, an actual real woman that most women would be able to relate to on some level. This is the story of how she’s starting to get her life back on track following the tragic death of her fiancé, Max, two years previously.

Colton Donovan is a race car driver. I’m hoping that he is real and that he has a thing for blonde British women. If so, pass me his number.

On a serious note, the characters have been well crafted and displayed. I fell in love with them and cheered, sighed and laughed along with them.

My only criticisms are that I felt that the book needed another edit. There were some mistakes and the only reason I gave it a five star review instead of a four was because it felt unfair when the story was so captivating.

Also, at the end some hint that BDSM had occurred between them. Other than one kitchen counter scene, which quite a few sexually active couples would have tried in ordinary circumstances, I didn’t feel it fitted. It was skimmed over, and I’m a all or nothing girl.

I downloaded this book as a light read for work. I was sadly mistaken by that, my colleague had to scream across the office to get my attention whilst I read it. My poor iPhone clattered on my keyboard when I heard my name being shouted at such a level!

I reached the end last night. It’s official, K. Bromberg is a grade A bitch, she left my longing for more…

The second part of the trilogy is set to be released in August. It’s called ‘Fuelled’ and I’ll most definitely be reading it.

Amazon UK Link- http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00CRMX26I

Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CRMX26I 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17798287-driven?ac=1