8 full length romance novels
8 sassy authors
The First Encounters anthology is a compilation of eight full length novels, each of which was the first from the following authors:
It’s been a while since I’ve written a review on the blog besides the blog tours reviews…My schedule lately is just HECTIC! I just started Law School and between that and my several jobs, time has been passing so fast!!
Girls like me don’t get happy endings.
I know what I am. At worst a cliché, at best a cautionary tale. I put an international border between me and my past, only to wind up working in a low-end titty bar. Even my excuse is as lame as it gets: I’m paying for college, getting my art degree from Montreal’s most prestigious school. Although some days it becomes confusing: am I just a student who moonlights as a stripper, or a stripper who masquerades as a student?
But the inevitable happens and my two lives collide. And now there’s one other person who knows both the quiet, antisocial Hannah and the sensual, shameless Alicia. One person who keeps my secret.
He’s beautiful, he’s sophisticated. He comes from the other side of life, the one where I’m not wanted or accepted. But he calls me la petite Américaine, and his hot, hot hands on my skin promise me things I long ago gave up on.
The problem? He teaches my Classic Photography class.
This is a standalone novel, no series, no cliffhanger.
Rating: 2.5 – 3 stars
First of all, I loved the cover of Shameless. Not only it is beautiful, but it actually has something to do with the story (I get so tired of those covers that have nothing to do with the books)!
Now about the book…Shameless is a book I wasn’t certain if I’d like when I heard about it. Stripper books are very tricky and I believe I haven’t liked any before.
Hannah, despite of her opinion about herself, is not your cliché stripper paying for her education. She thinks herself as shallow when actually she is deeper than a lot of characters I’ve read about.
This story is actually quite poetic and deep and I did enjoy it. It was sad and desperate, I could feel like I was in Hanna’s shoes once or twice in my life. She has no aspirations, she’s desperate, sad and alone…
Than she meets Emmanuel. He is her unwilling client. And he is her new teacher. He wants to show her the world, but deep down he doesn’t accept who she is and what she does because of his own past.
I missed knowing more about both Emmanuel and Hannah. There was no real back story and by the end, it could really make a difference in the whole story, in my opinion. It didn’t prevent me from enjoying the book to some level, but it did prevent me from connecting more with it, in a higher level.
Also, I thought Emmanuel’s big secret was a big chiché. Well, not so much a cliché, but more like something really fabricated, it didn’t seem very real. It was quite shallow and random to me and I would have even accept it better if it had had some outcome from his big mystery to his present (and future).
Also, I missed any good supporting characters. Emmanuel’s friend from the beginning of the book just disappeared (I kept hoping I would see him again) and well, we have no real background on Emmanuel’s life or his friendships. Emmanuel was not a loner, designed just to be Hannah’s leading man, so I wanted to see him being a person outside of Hannah. I know he had friends, but I would have liked to see it, instead of having just a hint of who he is. I also wanted to see Hannah being a little less depressing.
Because the story missed important things as the main characters’ background and supporting characters, it fell a bit flat towards the middle and when it started to pick up again, it didn’t really picked up. :(
My favorite thing about this book was Hannah and how she had been misinterpredted and misunderstood. But I wanted more. More for her and more for both of them as a couple.
Although she was my favorite character, there were something things that really bothered me about Hannah. And the biggest one of those is that she was a doormat! She let everyone stomp on her and she kept quiet! She had options and in one of the most disturbing scenes, she didn’t even fight back. She just rolled with it and accept it. It was such a disappointment and also very disturbing to me. I get that she felt like she didn’t deserve to be loved or even the simpathy of others, but it was a bit too much…There’s a level of desperation and depression I can accept as real. And I doubt a real person would just accept what happened between Hannah and her elder teacher without at least a bit of a fight. Specially because it haven’t happened before, so she shouldn’t be as resigned as she was.
As I said, I missed more about the characters and I believe Emmanuel and Hannah have the potential to be a great couple, but right now they don’t feel much like one. They feel too disconnected from the real world and I actually liked both of them, but I wanted them to seem more real. Yes, they both had a kind of desperation that pulled them apart of the rest of the world. It was like they they lived alone in it, but they don’t. I can get Hannah not making friends, but I know Emmanuel is a friendly person, so where was his family and friends? I want to know what makes my characters who they are in the books and unfortunately I missed it in this one.
It was, however, an enjoyable read. I wanted more of it, because I know it could turn out to be so much more!
Today is the cover reveal for The Understatement of the Year by Sarina Bowen. This cover reveal is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours.
What happened in high school stayed in high school. Until now.
Five years ago, Michael Graham betrayed the only person who ever really knew him. Since then, he’s made an art of hiding his sexual preference from everyone. Including himself.
So it’s a shock when his past strolls right into the Harkness College locker room, sporting a bag of hockey gear and the same slow smile that had always rendered Graham defenseless. For Graham, there is only one possible reaction: total, debilitating panic. With one loose word, the team’s new left wing could destroy Graham’s life as he knows it.
John Rikker is stuck being the new guy. Again. And it’s worse than usual, because the media has latched onto the story of the only “out” player in Division One hockey. As the satellite trucks line the sidewalk outside the rink, his new teammates are not amused.
And one player in particular looks sick every time he enters the room.
Rikker didn’t exactly expect a warm welcome from Graham. But the guy won’t even meet his eyes. From the looks of it, his former… best friend / boyfriend / whatever isn’t doing so well. He drinks too much and can’t focus during practice.
Either the two loneliest guys on the team will self destruct from all the new pressures in their lives, or they can navigate the pain to find a way back to one another. To say that it won’t be easy is the Understatement of the Year.
Warning: unlike the other books in this series, this heartbreaking love story is about two guys. Contains sexual situations, dance music, snarky t-shirts and a poker-playing grandmother.
You can find The Understatement of the Year on Goodreads
Bella grabbed the front pocket of my Vermont sweatshirt and actually pulled me through the din of the most crowded room, toward a table where Graham sat in a booth, across from Hartley.
Ugh. I had no idea this would be so cozy. In fact, there was nowhere for me to sit. For a second there I felt like it was seventh grade all over again, and I didn’t know where to sit in class.
That’s how I met Graham — seventh grade Spanish. We were the two runts in the back row with terrible gringo accents and no friends. The teacher always made the class pair up to practice dialogue. Graham and I were partners.
Te gusta el futbol?
Sí, me gusta el futbol.
The early days of middle school had been awkward. But this? So much more awkward than that.
“I’ll sit on Graham’s lap,” Bella suggested, grabbing a slice of pizza off the tray.
“Naw, let me find a chair,” I said, turning quickly into the crowd. And lo, by the grace of God, I found one in front of an ancient pay phone. Setting the chair at the end of their booth gave me some much-needed distance. Bella sat on the end, boxing Graham into the corner. Bella’s hand found its way onto my knee about two seconds after I sat down.
Someone filled my glass. “Have a slice?” Hartley offered.
“Thanks, I already ate,” I said quickly. But I sucked back some of the beer. It was pretty wimpy stuff, but I’ll bet the price was right.
“Tell us about your transfer,” Bella prompted while the others dug in. “You said you’d tell it over beers.”
Right. Too soon. “Well,” I hedged. The thing was, I’d told people I was gay many, many times. I was actually pretty good at it. But you don’t say it when you’re all trapped at a table. You have to drop the bomb when your victims are free to walk away from you. Because even the people who are going to turn right back around and be there for you often need a minute to digest the idea.
And the fact that Graham was sitting three feet away, staring at his slice of pizza as if it might reveal the secrets of the universe, made this a particularly bad time. I didn’t want to look vulnerable in front of him. I’d tried that before in my life, and it ended badly. Very badly.
“Thing is, I haven’t had enough beer yet to tell it.”
“There you go with the buildup again,” Bella said, nibbling on a slice.
“Yeah? Well my stories don’t usually disappoint.” That was a bit of pointless bravado. But it was probably true.
I happened to glance toward Graham then. And even in the low light of the pizza place, I saw him freeze. And I realized just how far a little smack talk about stories I might tell would freak him out. I hadn’t meant it like that. But the effect on him was instant and powerful. His jaw went hard and his fist clenched on the table.
Easy, boy. “Tell me about the practice schedule,” I said to change the topic.
About the Author:
Sarina Bowen makes her home in the Green Mountains of Vermont, where she lives with her family, eight chickens and a large pile of skis and hockey equipment. She is a graduate of Yale University.
There is a tour wide giveaway for the cover reveal of The Understatement of the year. You can win a signed set of paperback books which includes: The Year We Fell Down (Ivy Years #1), The Year We Hid Away (Ivy Years #2) and Blonde Date (Ivy Years 2.5). The giveaway is open international. You can enter the giveaway below, good luck!
“If you want to run, I suggest you do it now, ” he told her.“Why?” she asked, and he leaned in close.“Because I eat girls like you for breakfast ” he hissed in her ear. She shivered again.
Now…about the characters…If you like your men dirty-filthy-mouthed you HAVE to read this. And if you don’t like, you HAVE to read this book, because you WILL like Jameson.
Jameson “Satan” Kane is one of the filthiest bastards I’ve ever seen, and I love him for it! Not only because he has a very dirty mouth (*grins mischievously*), but because he is a bastard. He is a mean bastard. He is mean to our heroine, but I can’t not love him. He is totally my type of jerk LMAO.
Our heroine, Tatum is my kind of f****ed up girl!! Their whole relationship is twisted and that’s why they work (when Jameson is behaving LOL). Their relationship is f***ed up just like they are, but the problem is that Jameson takes it to the next level of twisted by being more f***ed up than Tatum. His problem is that even though he can admit he likes her, he can’t really commit to her. It bothered me he kept seing other people, even though it kind of turns Tatum on. She couldn’t see anybody else even though he said she could as long as it was one person at a time, never repeats of the same person. It bothered me, no matter how turned on Tatum is about it. And it didn’t really bother me because it’s cheating, it bothered me because he was using it, and Tatum’s kinky side, as a excuse not to comit.
Bravo Ms. Fantôme!! You certainly have a fan in me!!!
“You started these games,” Jameson reminded her. Tate hiked up her dress a little andlifted her knee to his desk.“I didn’t realize they’d go on for this long,” she replied, lifting her other knee. She bentforward and crawled across the desk towards him. He didn’t move.“They’re going to go on for a lot longer,” he warned her. She reached out, putting herhand on his knee.“For how long?” she asked as she slid her hand up his thigh, moving as slow as possible.“However long it takes you to realize who the winner will always be.”
“Oh, you’re done. Time for good girls to go upstairs and show me how bad they can be,”
Jameson told her.
“I don’t think there’s very much that’s good about me anymore,” Tate laughed.
“I think you have no idea what bad really is.”
“There will never be a ring from Harry Winston. I will never ask you to marry me. I don’t
want those things, I never did. I like to have fun, I like to fuck. I don’t want to put stars in your
eyes. I’m not that guy. I’m the devil, and I don’t have any plans to change.” – Jameson
“If you want to run, I suggest you do it now,” Jameson told her.
“Why?” Tate asked, and he leaned in close.
“Because I eat girls like you for breakfast,” he hissed in her ear.
She smiled and slipped to her knees in front of him.
This, she could do. This, she was very good at.
Love, however, was a completely different story.
“What do you want, Kane?” Tate asked in a low voice. Jameson dragged his eyes away
from her tits and stared her in the eye.
“Call me that name again, and I will punish your mouth,” he warned her. She chuckled.
“Don’t make promises you won’t keep.”
“Your life story is much shittier than mine,” Jameson told her. She glared at him.
“But probably a lot funner,” Tate countered.
“I highly doubt that. Have you ever had sex with a supermodel while sailing through the
mediterranean on your 250 foot yacht?” he asked. She thought for a second.
“No. I gave a handjob in an Arby’s bathroom once, though. Kinda like the same thing,”
she told him with a bright smile.
“I stand corrected. Your life leaves me in awe.”
Tate sat forward, arching her neck to look up at Jameson. He stared straight back at her,
the fire casting shadows on one side of his face, and burning up the other side.
He looks like Satan.
She felt his teeth against her skin, fangs to her jugular, claws to her heart. He bit down,
once. Twice. A third time, so hard, she thought he was going to take out a piece of her.
He already did that, a long time ago, baby girl.
“I have the strangest feelings about you. Like I want to take you everywhere and have you
by my side, but I also want to hold you down. Make you beg and and cry,” Jameson told her.
Tate kept her eyes focused on his, didn’t move a muscle.
“Sounds like a pretty good plan to me,” she whispered.
She felt her temperature soar through the roof. Jameson had an uncanny gift that made it
impossible for Tate to be truly mad at him – the angrier she got, the more she just wanted to
have sex with him. He was blessed that way. Or rather, she was cursed.
“I’m not going to fuck you. That would be giving you a treat. You’ve been very bad. I’m
going to do whatever I want.” – Jameson
“Why do you like to push me?” Jameson groaned, lifting her hair so he could bite at the
back of her neck.
“Because I like it when you push back,” Tate whispered.
We are a match made in Hell. He may be Satan, but I’m Lillith. – Tate
The whole time, he raked his nails down a path on her back. Peeling away a layer of skin,
exposing a piece of her soul. Stealing it from her. Or just taking it back.
Houston, we have a problem.
Jameson watched her sleep for a while, his eyes wandering down the angry scratch
marks on her back, over the bruises on the side of her neck. She let him do so many things to
her. Eventually, Tate would want something in return, and that thought scared him.
“Men are retarded assholes. You make a bad jokeand he looks at my tits, and it’s one-
plus-one equals whore,” Tate explained, and Jameson finally laughed.
“I wish I had gone to that school.”
This was her comfort zone. Tate felt like if Jameson was nice to her, if he was sweet
to her, she would forget what was really going on, forget her place in the grand scheme of
things. And he was Satan, after all. He would make sure to put her back in her place. That
would be real pain, and she couldn’t handle that, not from him. Not again.
I’m losing this game.
All she could focus on was Jameson’s hand. His strong fingers, linked through hers. She
squeezed his hand, so hard it hurt. So hard, she wouldn’t be able to let go, not ever again.
Why did everything feel so different?
Because everything is different.
“Do you think there’s something wrong with me, treating you the way I do?”
“Not necessarily. It’s consensual. Empowering.”
“Yes. You have the power to hold me down, say things, call me names. But I have the
power to say stop. End it all. Your power is an illusion. Mine is real.”
Speaking nice to her, that was too much. Saying sweet things, even in the fucked up way
they had, was more than Tate could handle. She hadn’t wanted to care about this man. Not at
all. She had wanted to play with him. Turned out, he was much better at the game.
“I don’t want a nice, normal girl. I want a girl who likes to be knocked down and dragged
around. A girl who will let me smack her around and talk dirty to her. I want a girl who will let
me sleep with other girls, and then get so turned on by that fact, she’ll blow me while we’re
driving down a highway doing seventy-five,” Jameson snapped.
“Sounds like a pretty hot girl,” Tate commented.
“Hottest girl I know.”
This. More than anything, Tate wanted to remember Jameson like this; she loved his
biting words and his stinging hand, but his kiss. His kiss gave her hope.
Head over to Stylo’s Author page for your chance to WIN!!
Add it to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22667105-master-over-you?ac=1
Cerys lives in New Hampshire in the New England area of the United States. She spends her days writing, reading, learning, and working. Some of her most favorite activities involve understanding and learning about the human psychology.
She enjoys pondering sexuality and human response to it. Most of her writing delves into this in some way, exploring reactions and relationships between different people. While she enjoys writing erotica, her goal is to also keep a certain literary appeal to the writing instead of something purely pornographic.
She prefers fantasy settings, with magic, monsters, intrigue, and epic adventures. Her secret kinks include blackmail/coercion, reluctance/dubious consent, and prostitution. She loves writing about all of these things, though very strongly acknowledges they are simply exciting fantasies and nothing more.
The authors are hosting a two $5 Amazon Gift Card giveaway to celebrate the cover reveal…Enter here for a chance to win: a Rafflecopter giveaway
Title: Mr. X
Author: Clarissa Wild
Publication Date: July 21, 2014
Genre: Dark Romance
Happy Release Day to Clarissa Wild!! I can’t wait to start this one and meet Mr. X!!!
He’s come to kill me.
I’m a user and abuser of my own body. In my darkest hour I sold my soul to the devil and now I must pay the price. With his gun to my head I have no choice but to listen and obey, but I refuse to go down easily. Nothing is stronger than the will to survive. My instincts kicked into full gear the second he stepped into my motel room.
Except when I look at him I see my own heart staring back at me. A history tainted by blood.
I don’t know his name, but I know he wants me. To save myself I’ll sacrifice my sanity. My body. My soul. Something tells me the x-shaped scar that marks his eye is the only escape I have. He is Mr. X: the man who comes to claim my life. Can I save myself before he demands my heart?
WARNING: This book contains very disturbing situations, dubious consent, breath deprivation, strong language, drugs and alcohol, and graphic violence.
She clenches her teeth. “You can’t keep me here …”
“Watch me.” I lean against the wall, picking up a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. I’ve been dying for a smoke ever since I found her in that room.
“And then what? Is this supposed to scare me?” she says, her hand fisted like she’s trying to resist, even though there is no way out of this.
I smile and put down the lighter. “If you think I am doing all this just to scare you, you’re mistaken.”
“Then what is the reason, huh? Why are you keeping me prisoner?” She fights the tears in her eyes. I can’t help feel a little overcome with the urge to grab her and kiss her to take away all the hurt. However, I can’t. The past cannot be erased. What we are is set in stone and nothing can chafe away the rugged surface of our souls. I’d be a liar if I said it doesn’t pain me to see her hurt, but I like pain. I live for it. I was reborn in it.
I don’t fear it. On the contrary, I survive on it. Pain is a means to an end and her pain is my end. If she stops feeling pain, then so do I, and that would mean the end.
It’s too soon.
I need her pain to feel alive. And so, I will continue to make her answer for her sins.
“A man must do what a man must do,” I say.
“A man? How can you call yourself a man? You’re a monster.” The look in her eyes, so in awe of my wickedness, is exhilarating.
I smile. “Thank you.”
Her jaw drops, a brow rises, and she snarls. It’s amusing to see the mixed emotions scatter on her face. “Are you insane? Why are you thanking me?”
“Because I’d rather be a monster than a man in your eyes. Being a monster beats being a wretched human being. You’ve freed me of the burden of having to act sane. So yes, you could say that I am insane.”
She just stares at me, her mouth open, but in complete silence, like she’s at a loss for words.
“Believe me when I say you are better off with me than out there,” I say.
“You’re mad! You wanted to kill me, and now you say I’ll be safe with you?” she scoffs.
“I never said you’ll be safe with me. I can get quite dangerous …” A smile quirks up my face.
She shivers. Clutching her body, she stampedes toward me. “Let me out.”
I grab both her arms, squeezing tight as I hold her back and look down at her. “You don’t want to do that.”
“I want anything but staying here with you.” She tries to jerk free, but I keep her close, forcing her to listen. She cannot leave me, because I won’t allow it, but I’ll give her a good reason as well.
“Do you think I am the worst thing that could overcome you?” I lean forward and whisper into her ear. “There is more evil out there than you think.”
Her breath comes in short gasps, her tits pushing up against me as her chest rises. Courage is making place for fear again, I can feel it on her skin. It’s riveting. She fights me, her arms locking with mine as she attempts to free herself from my grasp, but I twist her in my arms and keep her hands behind her back. Her ass is bumping against my cock, straining it to the limit. God, I love it when she struggles.
I never stopped loving it.
“Do you think I’m the only one who came for you, huh?” I whisper in her ear. “That I’m the only one who wants you dead?”
She shakes her head, and I can feel her heart thrumming through her chest.
“Did you see those men that were following us? Can you guess what they wanted?”
I smirk. “Great deduction. Now, there is a difference between them and me; can you tell me what it is?”
It’s quiet for a few seconds. I guess she really hasn’t figured it out yet.
“They want your head. I want your body.”
She swallows, and it turns me on so much I want to rip off her clothes right now and do her against the door. But I don’t. Taking her would be so easy, it would take all the fun out of it. I want her to offer herself to me willingly. I want to see the regret in her eyes afterwards when she realizes she gave her body to the devil.
“But …. I don’t understand. I thought you wanted me dead?”
“I did. Now I want more.”
She gasps. “Why? What changed?”
About Clarissa Wild:
Clarissa Wild is the USA Today Bestselling author of FIERCE, a college romance series. She is also a writer of erotic romance such as the Blissful Series, The Billionaire’s Bet series, the Doing It Series and the Enflamed Series. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.
Check out Clarissa’s sexy books: http://smarturl.it/clarissawildbooks
$10 Gift Card or Cash & SIGNED SWAG pack
Signed SWAG pack (2 winners)
Enter here for a chance to win: a Rafflecopter giveaway
/* Style Definitions */
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
/* Style Definitions */
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
“How about you and me pretend we are the only two people on this island and we’re staying for a good long time?” Ben nuzzled her neck for a moment and then found her earlobe with his lips, savouring it.“Why, Ben,” Alicia said coyly, “if there is no one else on this island, that means we can do anything we like, anywhere we like . . .”“Exactly,” Ben replied in a low, sexy tone as he slid his hand in between her thighs. Finding the high slit in her skirt, he ran his large hand along the silk of her legs, wasting no time in getting to her bikini bottoms. He toyed with the strings resting on her hips. One little tug and they would fall away from her, leaving her exposed under her skirt. Trailing kisses down her neck to her collarbone, he pulled at the strings. “I’ve been waiting to do that all day,” he murmured in her ear.Alicia gasped a little at the thought of being so exposed to the world before she realized that they really were alone. She allowed herself to enjoy the hot breeze as it caressed her sensitive skin. “That’s kind of why I bought it.”Ben’s fingers moved along the length of her sex, taking in its satin warmth. Alicia gave a little moan and turned to find his mouth with hers, feeling her body respond as it always did to Ben’s touch. After years of his kisses, she never stopped getting that thrill from feeling his lips on her. He kissed her the way he looked at her, as though she were the only woman to have ever inhabited the planet.
/* Style Definitions */
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
Sliding his fingertips gently into her, pressing his palm against her, rubbing with exactly the amount of pressure that he knew she loved, Ben knew every inch of her body, how she wanted to be touched, what she needed, and he took full advantage of that knowledge as he moved his other hand up over her breasts. Moving his fingers in tiny circles inside her, he could feel her press herself hungrily against his hand. It wasn’t long before they reached that exquisite moment when she tensed in long waves as commanding as those in the ocean nearby. Alicia bit down on her lip to stifle the loud cry that begged to erupt from her throat. Ben’s own breathing become ragged and his entire body hardened at the desire that was building up in him. He wanted her right there on that beach and he was going to have her.