Saturday, November 30, 2013
Love is like an avalanche. It hits hard, fast and without mercy.
At least it did for me when Sculpt, the lead singer of the rock band Tear Asunder knocked me off my feet. Literally, because he’s also a fighter, illegally of course, and he taught me how to fight. He also taught me how to love and I fell hard for him. I mean the guy could do sweet, when he wasn't doing bossy, and I like sweet.
Then it all shattered.
I was alone and fighting to survive.
When I heard Sculpt's voice, I thought he was there to save me.
I was wrong.
*Warning: This book contains some disturbing situations, strong language and sexual content. Over 18 years.
This is a love story with some dark elements. Dark contemporary romance. No cliffhanger and next in the Tear Asunder series is Ream's story (the band's lead guitarist).
"I trusted him. I gave myself to him, and he took me, peeled back layers of my soul until he saw it all. Then he took me."
Holy freaken moly! That was hot! More words that come to mind...dark, gritty, sexy...the list could go on and on.
I warn you, this is not for the faint of heart. It deals with dark stuff such as sex trafficking. The men in this book degrade women and treat them as if they are animals. In their eyes, they are animals. So again I warn you, if you don't think that this type of book can be for you, I suggest you stop reading my review, because even though it dealt with such horrific stuff, I couldn't put the book down.
In Torn From You, we meet Sculpt and Emily. Sculpt is the lead singer of his band and they are about to go on tour. He wants Emily to go on tour with him but she wants to go to college. One night while Sculpt is playing in a bar, Emily gets drugged and kidnapped.
As she is getting beaten, she hears a vaguely familiar voice...
The voice in non other than Sculpt himself and he takes Emily all the way to Mexico, where she will be trained to be a sex slave.
"He wanted complete and utter submission. He wanted me to be his slave."
My heart felt for Emily and what she had to endure. The things she had to see and hear, were things no person should ever have to go through. It didn't help any that the man she loved, was so cold towards her. Why wasn't he saving her?
"He looked so beautiful, and it pissed me off that he could look so beautiful when he was so ugly."
Every fiber in Emily's body wants to hate Sculpt but at the same time she loves him and the man she thought he was. The man she grew to love is sweet and worships the ground she walks on. The new Sculpt is fierce, cold, and simply terrifying.
I think I loved him along with Emily. He is a rockstar, and illegal fighter, and a dominant. It's like Kellan, Travis, and Christian all rolled up into one! If that doesn't make you love him, I don't know what will. He is irresistible and down right sexy, I wanted to hate him. I did, but I couldn't.
"Don't ever think you're safe with me. I fuck you because I need release, that's all you can be to me." -Sculpt
The story takes you on a roller coaster of emotions and there are some twists that you won't see coming. I think everyone needs to put this on their TBR because it's that good. I know I'm going to go insane waiting on the second book.
"Some things can't be repaired. You break them bad enough, they can't be fixed."
With characters that will bury themselves deep in your heart you won't want them out, and a plot that keeps you turning page after page...Torn From You is easily a 5+++++ read! The blurb alone should have you begging for more;)
Expected publication date is December 27,2013. There will also be a novella coming out the same day, With You.
Thank you to Netgalley for providing me with a review copy for an honest review.
Friday, November 29, 2013
THIS IS A NEW ADULT NOVEL. RECOMMENDED FOR 17+ YEARS DUE TO SEXUAL CONTENT AND SOCIAL SITUATIONS
When you see someone who looks like they need saving, you save them right?
Mackenzie Deeks is struggling. Outwardly she plays the tough guy and acts like being a young adult with an eating disorder is no big deal. Inside, she's crumbling.
Ever since her parents’ divorce, the only way she has been able to feel in control of her life is by purging the despair that has its grips on her and won't let go.
Tyler Redding knows when someone needs help - he's seen it before. This time, though, he's not going to take no for an answer. From the moment he first sets his sights on Mackenzie, he's unable to think of anyone else. But how can he focus on a football career when all he wants to do is date the most unassuming person he's ever met?
As their lives become intricately entwined, it becomes more than wishful thinking when Mackenzie and Tyler find each other again as adults. With successful careers, a beachside lifestyle and each other’s love to contend with, life should be pretty damn good. But just when they think they’ve found their wonderful kind of normal, their perfect world comes crashing down.
It’s going to take a lot to keep Mackenzie from succumbing to old habits, but Tyler thinks he might just be the one to save her for good.
This book had the potential to be great, it really did. However, it fell a little short in my opinion.
Mackenzie’s life fell apart when her parents divorced, and the only thing she can really control is if she eats, and how much. Her eating disorder is very real, and it’s very consuming. If you’ve ever wondered exactly what goes on in a person’s head as they battle this disease, then you’ll discover a bit of it in this book. I was glad to see an author address this issue in the way that she had.
I did feel like the character relations were a bit rushed. Here’s a girl who spent so much time alone and avoiding people, that when Levi and Tyler came into the picture, I felt like they were let in a little too easily. Am I being nitpicky? Perhaps. I just know that it didn’t feel natural to me. And that’s not saying that I don’t like their characters, because I do. Tyler is a sweetie.
Overall, I give this book a 3 star rating because I was able to finish it. The story was good, but I would have liked to have felt more of a connection to the characters themselves. They were, at times, bland and a bit on the boring side. I think that’s the biggest issue that I have with the story, but I implore you to read it and see what you think.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Jessie Braden thought she had it all. A husband, a new baby – her life was on course, exactly what she always wanted…Until one day, she loses everything.
Ruined and broken, she’s left alone to pick up the pieces of her life. Unable to cope, she spontaneously packs up and moves across the country, hoping that new scenery will help.
Once in sunny Florida, she finds an apartment and a job but while Jessie is surviving, she isn’t living…until one night she meets someone. Dominick.
Desperate for an escape from the pain of her memories, she relents to his unerring determination and agrees to spend time with him.
Through his patience and understanding, she will learn that she’s not ruined…she’s just a little broken.
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She spends her days a full-time day job and juggles her nights between writing, her editing (Juli's Elite Editing), and her family.
Juli is currently working on several projects, so always keep your eyes peeled!
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
At nineteen, Ryan leaves to join the Australian Army. After years of training he becomes an elite SAS soldier and deploys to the Afghanistan war. His patrol undertakes the most dangerous missions a soldier can face. But no matter how far he runs, or how hard he fights, his need for Finlay won’t let go.
Returning home after six years, one look is all it takes to know he can’t live without her. But sometimes love isn’t enough to heal what hurts. Sometimes people like him can’t be fixed, and sometimes people like Finlay deserve more than what’s left.
This is a story about war and the cost of sacrifice. Where bonds are formed, and friendships found. Where those who are strong, fall hard. Where love is let go, heartache is born, and heroes are made. Where one man learns that the hardest fight of all, is the fight to save himself.
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He is everything I crave, all I desperately want—and he is everything I can’t have.
Evan Black embodies my every fantasy. He is brilliant, fierce, and devastatingly handsome. But he is also headstrong, dangerous, and burdened with secrets.
My family warned me to stay away, that I could never handle Evan’s dark dealings or scarred past. Maybe I should have listened. Maybe I should have run. But our desire is undeniable, and some temptations you just can’t fight.
And from the moment we touch—the passion between us consuming us both—I know that I will never be the same.
Wanted is an erotic romance intended for mature audiences.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Sarah Langham’s life was the epitome of normal until her dad slept with another woman when she was sixteen. It ripped her family apart.
Twenty-two-year-old Sarah has it together, though.
Waiting at the train station to go home from her first day of her first proper job out of university, she spots a man.
He is an enigma to her. She’s drawn to him, with his square jaw; buzz of hair; and his tall, solid frame, seen under the contours of his business suit. And he’s been looking at her, too. Fate pulls them together that night on a whirlwind date, exceeding anything Sarah’s experienced before. He’s even more into her than she’s into him. Finally, she wants to trust a guy for the first time since she was sixteen.
But then they discover something.
Something that meant they were never two strangers at a train station.
And it threatens to tear their future apart before it, really, ever begins.
The first time Sarah saw Him, he was leaning up against a pillar at Flinders Street Station, knee bent against the wall, checking the time on his watch.
At five thirty, after her first day as a junior editor, she still hadn’t stopped trembling with excitement. She’d memorised the names of all the workers in her team, and loved the way she walked into the office and it smelt of warm paper, straight out of the printer. There must have been at least six printers on the one floor alone.
Now, at the train station, she supposed it made sense this man stood out. She was on alert and he was impossible to miss. Eyes peeled, she noticed him, as if he were a photograph, the aperture turned low so the bustle of other passersby blurred out.
She sat on her seat, waiting, pretending to text on her mobile. Now and then she’d look up as if wondering, “When’s the train coming?” Like she’d forgotten. Under her lashes, or from a casual glance sweeping the platform, she’d look at something new on him.
First it was his jaw. Sarah didn’t know why a strange man’s jawline mattered, but it did. She could imagine the sharp turn as she traced from ear down to his chin, and back up to his other ear with her finger. She imagined all her old poster pin-ups. Sarah wasn’t a fussy girl. She had James Dean, Elvis Presley, Bon Jovi, Brad Pitt, Zac Efron, and even the Hemsworth brothers.
By far, this man’s jawline was as good or better—sharp, yet smooth enough to want to touch.
She looked up again but thought he saw her, so she quickly took stock of a mother pushing a pram, another small child holding its side bar and stomping along. She looked further up and saw that she had two minutes left before her train really did arrive.
Sarah had never wanted a train to be late before, although they always were with Melbourne’s crazy rail system. Today, she did.
The guys in her lectures and tutes back in university were always man-whores or geeks or already taken. Now, at her first proper full-time job, she only had one man in her team and she didn’t have hopes for him, since she was sure that lunchtime phone call was to his “love”, and that “love” sounded like a man.
Sarah wasn’t greedy. One man would do, and he didn’t have to be the best looking or the kindest, but he had to be right for her. And she couldn’t pick if there would be something wrong with this man leaning against the pillar, waiting for his train, but she hoped that maybe he’d catch the same line as her and she’d get to wonder about him longer.
The third time she looked up she noticed more of him, more details here and there. He didn’t have a briefcase, but he was in perfectly ironed suit pants, leather dress shoes and a light peach shirt, one button undone lower than most businessmen she saw. The shirt’s waist tapered in to hug him at his hips. She figured that he naturally filled out the chest, shaping a perfect V, and the rolled up sleeves showed off the hint of corded forearms that stirred her imagination more. He had a buzz of hair covering his head, just enough to draw attention to the sexy contours of his face and body.
Just then, the lady over the speaker announced the train was arriving and Sarah stood, just as everyone else. She looped her handbag over her shoulder and found her way just behind the yellow line, choosing to walk diagonal, inwards, so that she stood mere metres from the man.
The doors opened, and the people on the platform waited for the people onboard to get off.
Sarah, though, turned to the man, and watched him pull out his mobile, then put it away just as quickly. He looked up, and Sarah’s initial thought was Quick! Oh my God, pretend you were staring at something odd behind him! but those silly cover-ups only made people look worse, so she decided to embrace this chance and offer a little smile—but she chickened out halfway and had to drop her gaze to the floor, not even able to hide her smile.
The ground in front of her started emptying, so she waded her way through with the other people desperate to find a seat.
If Sarah had her way she’d clamp her bag under her arm, make sure her heels were steady and then make a run to the nearest two seats free, fling her handbag on the spare one in front of her, and let that man sidestep through the knees of others in the seat arrangement and sit in front of her. In front was always better, because men had long legs. She’d learnt the pros and cons of sitting in front of men on trains before. Many times, smelly men or big men had their legs opened wide, and Sarah had to close her smaller ones between them with little gap spacing. Or, she would have to cross her legs and get a cramp trying to keep her crossed leg bent back, so as not to touch them.
But Sarah’s thoughts … that’s all they were. There were a few seats here and there, but neither Sarah nor the man got any. He could have, but he held out his hand and let that mother through, with the pram and her small child.
Sarah found herself liking him even more. Her last boyfriend had loved the clubs in the city and it was at one of them, not far from here, that he’d kissed his other girlfriend who Sarah never knew about. Or, not until she’d decided to surprise him that night and found her legs around his, his hands cupping under her ass in a section away from the dance floor.
Although this man didn’t sit next to her, he did find a spare pole to grab onto in the train carriage, and Sarah found one opposite him. He once again noticed her, but Sarah hadn’t been looking this time. He must have been doing some staring of his own.
Sarah wondered if this man had been doing the same thing the whole time Sarah had her own game going.
She wondered this as the train took off and they stood almost in reaching distance, both with a hand holding the pole next to them. Sarah wondered which stop he’d get off at.
Rebecca Berto writes stories about love and relationships. She gets a thrill when her readers are emotional reading her books, and gets even more of a kick when they tell her so. She's strangely imaginative, spends too much time on her computer, and is certifiably crazy when she works on her fiction.
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A murderer’s child…A foster child…A troubled teen…Gabriel ‘The Saint’ Vega has never had an easy life. Being shuffled from one foster home to another after his father murdered his mother, he found himself in and out of trouble with the law. Never giving a damn about himself, let alone anyone else, his life was spiraling out of control; fast. Until one man and one sport changed everything. Frankie Carbone taught Saint how to handle his anger and rejection; by fighting it out in the ring. On his way to stardom, Saint finds himself pushed into the spotlight and into the arms of more women than he can ever imagine; he’s completely content with one night stands and random sex. Then Salem Harris comes walking into his life and changes his game plan. Saint finds himself wanting Salem in all the ways that scare him. She is off limits; taken. But that doesn’t stop Saint from going after what he wants, and he wants her. Frankie showed Saint a new way of life with Boxing, but will Salem give him the one thing he's never known – love? Will Saint find himself fighting for the one thing he thinks he doesn't deserve or will Salem end up breaking his heart? Gabriel ‘The Saint’ Vega has had to fight for every good thing he's gotten in his life. Can he go the distance?
Meet ChristaI was born and raised in Western Massachusetts and I'm a married mother of three who married her high school sweetheart, Frank. I don't really have too many hobbies. I like to watch my kids play sports. I do photography on the side (weddings, families, babies etc). I'm Minion & Adam Levine obsessed. I enjoy listening to all different types of music, Maroon 5 & P!nk being some of my favorites. Achievements -- I was on the Top 20 Erotica as well in being on the Movers and Shakers List on Amazon with "Broken." I'm currently working on her second novel titled "Going the Distance" which will be released Fall 2013 as well as a third novel titled "Saved."
“In the case of the Commonwealth vs. Josue Vega. How do you plead?”
“Not guilty,” I hear our father say in his thick Spanish accent.
The cameras begin to flash and I hear reporters talking into their microphones, although I can’t understand what they are saying.
“Order in the court,” the judge speaks loudly as his gavel hits the desk; making my little brother, Jason, jump.
“It’s ok, Jase, we’re safe now,” I say, trying to comfort him. The two of us sit quietly in the second row of the hot, crowded courtroom as we watch our father plead ‘Not guilty’ to the murder of our mother. I’m just as scared as he is but I don’t want him to know that. I’m his older brother and he looks up to me, so I am trying to be brave.
“Your Honor, my client asks to be released on bail. He has two little boys he needs to care for while the trial is ongoing,” says the tall man who is standing next to our father.
I eyeball our father and notice how disheveled he looks. His hair is a mess and his clothes are the same ones he’d been wearing two nights ago. Jase and I were awoken this morning by a loud banging on our door. It was the police and they were looking for our father, but we hadn’t seen him in almost two days.
The last time I’d seen our father was the night he and our mother had gotten into an argument. They were yelling so loudly that they actually woke me from a sound sleep. I could hear our mother screaming, “How could you? He’s just a little boy…” and that was the last time I heard our mother’s voice.
“Your Honor, the Defendant is being charged with murder. I insist he be remanded to the county jail for the duration of his trial,” a voice says loudly from the other side of the courtroom.
The judge looks over at us and I can see the pity in his eyes.
“Mr. Vega, I have to agree with the District Attorney,” the judge’s voice is stern. “You’re standing trial for the murder of your wife. Bail is denied, and you’re to return to the county jail for the remainder of your trial. Bailiff, please remove the Defendant and have him taken into custody.”
I hear chatter erupt from the back of the courtroom. I turn around and see the reporters talking and the cameras flashing again. Spinning back around, I see a man in what looks like a police uniform handcuffing my father, then leading him out of the courtroom. Jase covers his face with his hands and begins to cry, “Why are they taking Papi?”
“It’s okay, Jase,” I whisper. “We have each other. Remember, we’re Blood Brothers.” Jase wipes his tears away with his hand and forces a smile.
“Blood Brothers” was something I’d come up with when we were out playing on the playground. It was one of the few times our father had actually offered to take us somewhere. We’d been cooped up in our small, dingy apartment all winter long, and it was finally a pleasant Spring day. Jase and I were running around playing tag. Our father had told us several times to stop running, but lo and behold, right after his final warning Jase fell and skinned both of his knees. Our father glared at us, just waiting to hear Jase cry. I knew what was coming next, he’d ‘give him something to cry about.’ That had been one of our father’s favorite lines; especially to Jase, who was extremely sensitive and cried over almost everything.
“Come on Jase, don’t cry,” I whispered to him, as I looked anxiously over my shoulder at our father. Jase’s body began to shake as he tried to hold his tears back and the blood from both his knees began to run down his shins. I glanced back at our father, who was now standing up, and I knew I had to act fast.
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out an old pocket knife that I had found lying on the sidewalk one day after school. I’d been keeping it a secret from Jase because I knew he’d want to play with it and would end up hurting himself.
“Hey Jase, look what I found a few days ago,” I said, showing him the knife.
His eyes grew wide, “Woah, where did you get that?” He said in awe.
“I found it a couple of days ago.”
“What are you two doing over there?” Our father said loudly, making Jase jump.
“Nothing Papi. I’m just tying Jase’s shoes,” I answered back.
“Hurry up! I’m ready to leave,” he snapped in response.
Opening up the blade as fast as I could, I took the tip and pressed it down onto the pad of my thumb.
“Gabriel,” Jase gasped. “What are you doing?”
“I wanna show you that you don’t have to cry every time you bleed,” I explained as blood began to pool up on my thumb. “See, I’m bleeding and I’m not crying.”
“It’s like we’re Blood Brothers,” Jase smiled at me as he blinked back his tears.
“Yes. Exactly, Jase, we’re Blood Brothers,” I smiled back at him.
I look over at Jase now and notice that he’s trying his hardest to hold back his tears. The two of us sit quietly as we watch our father being taken away. I finally feel safe. He and our mother are out of our lives forever; they can’t hurt us anymore. I’ve actually dreamed of this day; Jase and me, living with parents who actually love us. I saw it in a movie once; a little girl who didn’t have any parents was living in an orphanage and some rich guy adopted her. They lived happily ever after and I’m hoping that’s what’s going to happen to us.
“Gabriel? Jason?” I hear a kind voice say. “I’m Debbie and this is Dave, we’re going to take you to where you’re going to be staying.”
They’re dressed up in fancy suits and I wonder if they’re going to be our new parents. I can’t help but smile at the thought. They look so nice; they can give us a happy life. I know they can.
“Jase, shhhhh…stop crying,” I nudge him. “Look, I think this is our new Mom and Dad,” I whisper.
The last thing I want is for them to think Jase is a crybaby. He is, but I don’t want them changing their minds about us.
“Come on boys, we’re going to get you situated in your new homes,” Dave says.
I look up at him, confused, “Homes?”
“Yes, you and Jason are being placed in foster homes,” Debbie replies.
“You’re not our new Mom and Dad?” Jase asks sadly, through his tears.
“Oh no, Jason,” Debbie says sincerely as she crouches down in front of Jase. “We work for the Department of Social Services and we’ve been sent to bring you to your new homes.”
Debbie’s words make Jase cry even harder and I feel so sorry for him. In his five years of life, he’s never known a parent’s love. Sometimes at night, when we can’t fall asleep, I tell him about movies I’ve seen on television; how the families are so happy. The mom makes the family dinner, and the dad comes home from work and plays baseball with the kids. Jase always gets excited as I tell him about the movies. I promised him that someday it will be like that for us; that one day Mami’s medicine will eventually make her better. I didn’t mean it to be a lie.
When Mami was sick, she either slept all day or she was throwing up in the bathroom. Every morning, I heard her making a phone call for more medicine. About twenty minutes after she got off the phone, there was a knock at the door. It was usually a man dressed in dark, baggy clothes that brought her medicine. After that, she disappeared into the bathroom. Sometimes she came right out, while other times, she stayed in there for close to an hour.
Most mornings, it was me who got us ready for school. Some days, if we were lucky, there was actually food in the house; but only if Mami had felt well enough to go grocery shopping. Other days, we went to school hungry. Mrs. Gibbons, my teacher, occasionally brought fruit in for us. She slipped it to us in the hallway and always reminded us not to tell anyone.
Mrs. Gibbons was the nicest teacher in the school. She always asked about Jase and me and she made sure we ate lunch every day. Sometimes during class, I’d daydream that Mrs. Gibbons was our mom. But then the dismissal bell would ring, snapping me back into reality. I always hated the end of the day; that meant that school was over and it was time for us to go home.
Jase and I would take our time walking home from school because we never knew what we were walking into when we got there. Was our father going to be there? If he was home, what kind of mood would he be in? Would he and Mami be fighting? More often than not, they’d be fighting. Papi would be yelling at Mami because the house was a mess and dinner was not made; it was always for the same reason. “I work all fuckin’ day, the least you can do is clean this fuckin’ pigsty and make dinner,” he’d yell, raising his hand to her.
Depending on his mood after hitting our mother, sometimes he’d take his anger out on us next. The two of us would huddle in our room, trying to keep quiet, but he’d burst through the door yelling, “And you two! All you two ever do around here is make messes and eat! It’s about time you start helping out.”
Some nights we were lucky and he’d just leave after he yelled at us; while others, he’d physically pick us up, drag us into the living room, and make us start cleaning. “And get me a fuckin’ beer too, you little piece of shit!” He’d yell at me. “I don’t know why your mother even wanted you in the first place. You’re nothing but a waste of space and money.”
I’d encourage Jase to clean as quickly as he could so that we could go back into our room and wait for our father to pass out on the couch. This had become an almost daily occurrence for us.
“Gabriel and Jason, it’s time to go,” a voice says, snapping me out of my memory. “Gabriel, you’ll be coming with me and Jason will be going with Dave.”
“What do you mean I’m going with you and Jase is going with Dave?” My voice begins to tremble. Once I realize what’s happening, I begin to scream at the top of my lungs, “You’re not taking my brother from me. I’m all he has!”
Debbie tries to soothe and calm me down, but this only makes matters worse. I begin kicking and punching her as I yell in Spanish, “No me puedes quitar a mi hermano, puta estúpida!”
Before I know it, I’m taken away kicking and screaming. Dave grabs a hold of my feet while another man has my torso. Jase is crying hysterically and there is nothing I can do. I watch Debbie escort him out of the courtroom and realize that everything that I’ve ever known is gone.Hosted by:
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Quinton once got a second chance at life-but he doesn't want it. The tattoos on his chest are a constant reminder of what he's done, what he's lost. He's sworn to never allow happiness into his life . . . but then beautiful, sweet Nova makes him smile. He knows he's too damaged to get close to her, yet she's the only one who can make him feel alive again. Quinton will have to decide: does he deserve to start over? Or should he pay for his past forever?
Who will seize Mira’s heart and never let go? Will these feelings ever go away or will they be an AWAKENING?