Next comes the book…


Next to Me

 Allie Everhart
 Publication date: January 2nd 2016
 Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
After losing her parents and brother in a car crash, Callie dropped out of college and went to live in the small town where her family used to spend the summers. A year later, and struggling to move on, she keeps to herself and wants to be left alone. So she’s not too happy when her new neighbor keeps knocking on her door.
Nash Wheeler, a 25-year-old construction worker from Chicago, inherited the house next to Callie’s and is living there while he renovates it. Outgoing, confident, and never one to back down from a challenge, Nash sets out to get to know his new neighbor, inviting her over for dinner and offering to fix things around her house.
As much as his persistence annoys her, Callie finds herself attracted to the tall, muscular guy next door. And the more time she spends with him, the more she realizes how much they have in common. Like Callie, Nash has experienced loss, but when he opens up to her about it, she’s not willing to do the same. It’s too personal.
Nash is just her neighbor. Just some guy living there for the summer. But is that really all he is? Or is he the one person who can finally help her move on?
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“You’re holding my hand,” she says, her lips creeping up.
“I am,” I say, matter-of-factly.
Her eyes return to mine. “Why are you holding my hand?”
“You have nice hands.” I rub the top of it with my thumb.
“That’s why you’re holding it? Because I have nice hands?”
“You got a problem with that?”
“I guess it’s okay. Although your hands aren’t the greatest.” She tries to hide her smile.
“You’re making fun of my hands?” I hold up the other one that’s not connected with hers. “I do construction for a living. I work with my hands. I’m surprised they look as good as they do.”
She takes the hand I was holding up and inspects my nails. “You need a manicure.” She tries to be serious, but then laughs.
“I’m not getting a freaking manicure. I’m not one of those metrosexual guys or whatever the hell they call them. The guys who walk around with purses? You see them downtown Chicago.”
“There’s nothing wrong with those guys.” She sits back but keeps her hand in mine. “And by the way, it’s not a purse. It’s called a man bag. Or a murse. And a lot of guys get manicures. They’re not just for women. It even has the word ‘man’ in it. And cure.” She pauses, then smiles. “It’s a cure for manly hands. Get it?” She laughs at her own joke.
I scoot my chair over and lean in close to her face. Her smile drops, her breath quickens, and her eyes fix on mine. She thinks I’m going to kiss her, but I’m not.
Instead I say, “I don’t want a man bag. Or a murse. Or a manicure.” I look directly in her eyes. “I’m a man’s man. I like red meat. Football. A cold beer. Hard liquor. Pounding nails into walls. And women who challenge me.”
She’s looking at me with lust in her eyes, and God, I feel it too. The intense need to rip off her clothes and do her right here on this table. How the hell did this happen? How did we go from having a conversation to wanting to have sex? I’m not even trying to date this girl, and I definitely wasn’t planning to have sex with her.
I’m here to do a job. Fix the house. That’s it. Plain and simple. But suddenly it feels more complicated than that.

Author Bio:

Allie Everhart is a hopeless romantic who writes books about love. Allie has authored fourteen novels, including The Jade Series, a college romance that follows the story of Jade and Garret as they deal with numerous obstacles trying to tear them apart. Her other series, The Kensingtons, is a romantic suspense series. After writing two series, she’s now working on several standalone books, including her latest book, Next to Me, a new adult romance.

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Books/book review/Fantasy/fiction/Romance/health/Random and interesting items/crime fiction

Winter is icumen in

Winter is icumen in,
  Lhude sing Goddamm,
  Raineth drop and staineth slop,
  And how the wind doth ram
And Winter is the Winter Sisters, Victory, Payton and Willow. Each with their own special gift and ability and each falling in love with a different soldier in the elite squad of Army, Navy and Airforce. Author Joanne Jaytanie.
This is a review for NetGalley.
The series I am reviewing contains 3 novels, the latest published being Willow’s Discovery, published this October, which I read first through NetGalley.
This series is far from finished as far as I am concerned, as although each sister now has a mate – there is so much more that can happen to other characters and in the story-line.
So yes, I started with Willow’s Discovery and was only a quarter of the way through when I realised I wanted to read the first 2 books as well. I could read the 3rd book first but it would have been better to read them in the correct order.
Now the story line of all 3 concerns DNA being manipulated to give us extra fierce soldiers –this isn’t a new idea. The concept of the formidable soldier is common in fantasy but for me what was new was that the characters were splicing wolf genes into the soldiers to make them bigger, stronger, and fiercer.howlinggood
And two of the alpha males – yes they are all alpha males in this story as they are members of the elite squad mentioned above - have been experimented on with these wolf genes with very different results. But many of the males and females in this series have extra abilities and they haven’t had wolf genes added, and the question never answered (but it was raised) in the books is - was there some gene manipulation going on in uteroalpha
Interestingly, I am now reading another series of books where again canine DNA is inserted into soldiers to make them fiercer – the fantasy series of Cinder, Scarlet, Cress, Winter and Fairest.
Having come across this idea by two authors I thought I would look into what was happening with canine DNA and why this idea had come to these authors. And to my surprise found that canine DNA was being used for disease studies in humans [see the articles from the dmm.biologists organisation; National Geographic; Genome Research].
It appears that dogs get similar diseases to humans with the same genetic and environmental factors involved. These genes relate to diet and digestion, and neurological processes and disease which have evolved parallel in both species due to living in the same shared environment. These shared diseases include obesity, OCD, epilepsy, and cancers especially breast cancer (cancer is twice as common in dogs as in humans), and retinal diseases including cataracts.
Dogs only share 84% of our DNA  as compared to chimpanzees – 98.8%, monkeys – 93% and mice 90%, but we share some 360 genetic disorders with them, even though some of these only occur in 40% of dog breeds such as the Doberman Pinchers with inherited narcolepsy which has enable scientists to understand the molecular mechanisms of regulating sleep. And the last item explains something about why these stories include Dobermans as they were clearly being used in the genetic research of the organisation.
And I also looked into Tollers as they were a new breed of dog to me. Not that that’s saying a lot as there are so many new breeds appearing at the moment...nova-scotia-duck-tolling-retriever
So the basic stories were about criminal behaviour, kidnapping, torture and unusual experiments and general mayhem and brave deeds by the alpha males with feisty females assisting using their special powers. A good mix of fantasy and war stories, with some organised fraud and crime thrown in for good measure.thrillerROMANCEPAGETURNERCRIME
I really enjoyed all 3 of these books and am inclined to give them all 5 stars.wellwritten

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Enter the nosy artist and lots of guns!

The Body in the Landscape


Larissa Reinhart

A Netgalley Review
Just who is this all so nosy artist who just keeps encountering crimes including murder? And why is her brother in jail? And who is Tod? Luke? Max? And what are her relationships with them? How did Max hurt his knee?
For me, whilst this was a light-hearted romp through crime and murder, it was clearly not at all aimed at people who had not read the previous books in the series. There were a lot of complicated relationships. Family rivalries and past incidents that affected how people behaved that remained sketchily explained and then not as one first encountered them. Whilst I don’t mind this in a series, it does make it more difficult to give a critical review of a book when many of the links and much of the background is not explained.
That said, by 30% of the way through, enough was explained about some of the characters to encourage me to read on. I had considered giving up because I had been only peripherally drawn into the scenes and storyline.
But by 50% in I was irritated by the gun and hunting culture that permeated the story. And was not sufficiently concerned about the outcome to continue.
I agree with the reviewers of the author’s previous books that the style of writing  has amusing elements, but I was never inclined to smile let alone laugh – mainly I think due to the hunting and guns!

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How to become Blue:

Becoming Blue
Angie M. Brashears
(January 15th 2016)
Publication date: January 12th 2016
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

Every single thing I’ve been taught not to do…I just did.
Talk to a stranger? Check
Get in a car with a stranger? Check
Go to a second location? Check
Go into a stranger’s house? Check
Take candy from a stranger? Check
If this is a kidnapping, it’s the kindest one I’ve ever heard of.
I’m living a fat girl fantasy. Snatched from a Weight Watcher meeting by a powdered-donut eating stranger, was by far the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me. Who knew I didn’t need to make appointments or attend meetings to have someone to talk to. A Friend. Two Friends. A dark, intense stranger. Secrets.
Everything I ever wanted, and something’s I didn’t. Not every tasty treat is for eating.
To each his own….right? ADULTSONLYhot
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“Take another bite of that rice that I worked so hard on for you, now.” Husky, but there is no doubt it’s a command, so I do.
 He leans his head back, eyes on me, and continues to stroke his long shaft, tip to stem, through his jeans. “More,” he says, his eyes never leaving my mouth. Two more bites go in. I can barely chew around the food. “Faster, keep going, stuff those pink lips, Blue.” I can see just the tip of his tanned man muscle peeking at me above his waistband, leaving a trail of pre-cum on his tight stomach.
 I crunch into a taquito dripping with guacamole, and chew. I can’t stop watching his hand. I’ve never seen a guy I want, rub himself off so blatantly. Is that all for me? I chew, trying to swallow, and meet his eyes.
 “That’s so fucking sexy, Blue. You don’t know what that does to me, to watch you eat what I’ve made with my own two hands. I want to keep that big tummy of yours full of my food, nourish and satisfy you. That’s my job, baby girl, and I take it seriously.” He stands, opening the fridge, and pulls out a large baking dish. It’s flan, dripping with caramel, and he sits it right on my half-full plate, his hand never leaving his cock.
 When I feel like I can speak, I ask, “No spoon?”
 He’s so close, I can feel heat radiating from him, and he smells like hot sin. “You won’t need one.”
 Leaning into my hair, he takes a deep breath of me, inhaling me in, leaning into me further. I can feel his cock rubbing the outside of my arm, but I want it on my breast.
 “Time for dessert, baby girl, and if you wanna make Daddy proud, you’ll eat every morsel,” he pushes his hard length right up against my breast. The contact feels like he’s branding me right through his jeans.
 I look down his body, trying to look anywhere but at the slow-pulsing cock escaping out of his pants.
 His long fingers reach into the dish of flan, poking a hole through the top. Using two fingers, he moves nice and slow, finger-fucking the sticky dessert. I can’t look away. It’s obscene, and it’s making me drip. I shift in my chair, snugging my full breast right up against his hardness. His fingers move leisurely, in and out, in and out. My lips are dry, all the wetness in my body pooling at my core, making my underwear as sticky as the dish. I can’t stop imagining those fingers dragging through my own hot wetness, searching for my entrance.
 A moan, low and slutty, escapes from my parched lips at the thought. I lick them, but my spit isn’t the wetness I seek.
 His bulge rocks against the side of my boob, that peeking, weeping big head bulging with veins just inches from my jaw. If I moved, just a bit to the right, leaned into him a little, I could kiss the tip. My head drifts in that direction, but his hand comes up and tightens at the base of my skull, holding me in place. “Don’t move,” he says, all business.
 His fingers are coated with sweetness, and he hooks them as he skims the top of the flan grabbing a big scoopful.
 The hand at the back of my head moves to cup my chin firmly in place.
 My mouth drops open at the command. Leaning down, he looks me in the eye and says, “Wider.” All low and dirty. And I do. I close my eyes as he jams the scoopful between my lips. His fingers caress my tongue on the way out. A sound of pleasure escapes me, a sound I’m sure I’ve never made before. Guess that’s why they call it the ‘spice kitchen.’
 My eyes follow his fingers, which dig back into the dish. He trails two ragged grooves through the flan with those fingers, scooping more. I open my mouth, waiting, but he smears the tip of his cock with the sweetness, then pokes those same fingers in between my lips. I suck them clean, swirling my tongue around them, making sure to get every drop of Javi-laced flan.
 “That’s it, eat what Daddy gives you.” I feel his other hand at the back of my head, urging me down to the mess at the top of his waistband. “Taste me,” he whispers, and I do. “Lick that dirty monkey, make him clean.” I do, not caring for this dirty talk. ‘Dirty monkey.’ That’s a new one, even to my virgin ears.
 His tastes like salted caramel. My tongue swirls the head, and with each go around I try to go lower, lick the hidden depths, trying to get inside those jeans. “Greedy little piggy.” It sounds so hot from his lips, I moan for him.
 He steps back to rip open the button fly, shoving his underwear down. “This monkey wants out of his cage.”
 I watch, licking my lips as he leans over the dish and places his full balls right into the flan. My hands itch to touch him.
 Gripping the sides of the table, he drags his thick cock through the flan, burrowing a long deep tunnel right through the middle. He’s fucking the flan, making me wish it was my long deep tunnel he was drilling.
 He pulls his dick out, and it’s obscene. Full of curds, dripping with caramel.
 “Lick me clean.”
 I get to work, licking the tip, down his shaft, sucking each of his balls into my mouth. Only after he’s clean does he push his penis to my flushed face. “Kiss it, Blue, just the tip. Do not get greedy.” My insides turn over at the husk in his voice, the sexy glimmer in his eye. He is by far the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I do as he commands, light kisses, all lip, and no tongue, really working the head of his penis. He groans and shoves his fingers into the ruined flan.
 Stroking his cock with the remaining flan, he pushes past my lips into my wet mouth. A sigh escapes. He smells like a Mexican bakery, cinnamon, sugar and spice, my favorite. I suck dessert off him, moving my mouth further and further down his shaft, wanting all that he is offering. He lets me control the tempo, I can’t even watch his face, just his fingers twirling and digging into the dessert on the table.
 I let his cock plop out of my mouth, and I move to his fingers, which are hidden in the flan. I lick the trail his dick made through the top, coming to his fingers. I eat my way down to them, sucking one and then the other clean. He moans, jerks, grabs a towel, and let’s himself go, cumming into a dishtowel as I eat the dessert he’s made for me. I turn back towards his dick, hoping he’ll let me lick him clean again, but this time he turns away, zipping his pants. “I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?”
 “You did everything perfect, too perfect.” He clears his throat and continues, “I’m just embarrassed, Blue.” Before I can protest or say anything, he pushes on the spice rack door, leaving the room.
 I don’t know what just happened, can I be sued for sexual harassment? Even if I wasn’t the one who brought the flan?
 Getting up, I feel sticky head to toe, and unsatisfied. Fuck the dishes, let Mr. Embarrassed clean his own mess. I head to my room with the wonderful smell of caramel wafting all around me.

Author Bio:

Angie M Brashears is a lover of everything books. When not writing, she’s reading anything she can get her hands on. She grew up in Southern California, and loves the mountains, hiking with her dogs, the beach, and of course, Disneyland! She loves music, and loves singing along to the radio, loud and off-key, performing for anyone unlucky enough to be in the passenger seat.

Angie loves dark and twisted, which she refers to as Dark Ever After books, but is known to read an occasional HEA story as well. When she’s not writing, she working, saving lives. A busy Trauma ER nurse for over twenty years, she gets enough reality in her life, and is always looking for a story to take her away from the harsh reality of Emergency Nursing.

If there’s football on, she sure to have a huge party going on to cheer her team on…Go Patriots!

As a new author, she’d love to hear from you!

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Faraway is the Lion’s Den

The Lion’s Den
Eliza Freed
(Faraway, #2)
Publication date: January 12th 2016

An injury stops the bleeding of Meredith and Brad Walsh’s fractured marriage. As Meredith recovers and tries to regain her memory, Brad fights to convince Meredith their marriage was perfect, even if it barely existed.
But with Meredith’s memory comes clarity, and Meredith is faced with the reality of a husband and a lover. A husband who will do anything not to lose—his family or anything else, and a lover who will set her free to see her happy. Breaking up her family is not an option, but neither is staying hidden inside her mind.ROMANCEHEARTBREAKING
Sequel to:
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“I knew you were going to say that.”
He was standing next to me, but he may as well have been on top of me. His shoulder was so close to my face the smell of his skin was choking the words in my throat. I relived what it felt like the day I’d walked in on him in his office without his shirt on. I was suddenly terrified to remember more.
“How did you know I would say that?” My head turned slowly, and my body followed until I was standing only inches away, facing him. Trying to face this. Whatever this was.
I could have kissed him. I ached to taste him to the point of anger. The desire rose up inside of me and burned through the image of his sweet face, leaving nothing but outrage in its place. The colonel leaned toward me, and I needed his lips on mine. I forced my eyes closed to hide from that which I wanted more than air.
“What are you thinking? Tell me the truth,” he pleaded, and I knew it wasn’t the first time he’d demanded honesty from me.
I was flushed, and my emotions were overwrought. But I forced myself to look him in the eyes when I said, “I’ve lost almost an entire year, and the things that keep appearing in my mind, make me believe I don’t know myself anymore.”
“Like what?”
“Like wanting you to kiss me right now.” I wouldn’t turn away. “Regardless of the cost.” The physical pain of coveting him centered behind my eyes. “But that’s not who I am.”
Vince lowered his head. He groaned as he shook it. I waited. I stayed perfectly still, bracing myself for the truth he would share. “I just want you to be safe and happy.”

Author Bio:

Eliza Freed graduated from Rutgers University and returned to her hometown in rural South Jersey. Her mother encouraged her to take some time and find herself. After three months of searching, she began to bounce checks and her neighbors began to talk; her mother told her to find a job.

She settled into Corporate America, learning systems and practices and the bureaucracy that slows them. Eliza quickly discovered her creativity and gift for story telling as a corporate trainer and spent years perfecting her presentation skills and studying diversity. It’s during this time she became an avid observer of the characters we meet and the heartaches we endure. Her years of study have taught her laughter is the key to survival, even when it’s completely inappropriate.

She currently lives in New Jersey with her family and a misbehaving beagle named Odin. An avid swimmer, if Eliza is not with her family and friends, she’d rather be underwater. While she enjoys many genres, she has always been a sucker for a love story…the more screwed up the better.

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