Monday, February 23, 2015
Paula Marinaro is one of the up and coming giants in the romance subgenre of Motorcycle Clubs. Her first novel in the "Hell's Saints Motorcycle Club" series ~Falling Raine~ is one of my favorites in the genre. I was a bit hesitant when I saw this book on *Netgalley* but decided to read and review and boy! was I glad I did.
Chasing Claire was a different feeling book than Falling Raine but the writing was just as excellent. Claire is a very different character then her sister Raine, she has been through addiction, kidnaping and murder. PM could have made her all timid and lackluster but she didn't Claire actually worked hard and turned her life around and I just adored that in this novel. It was nice to see a woman emerge from the ashes of her life to find not only herself but love, freedom and home.
Claire's story isn't always easy to read, there are dark elements and Reno is one bad biker boy who has a quick temper that leads him to react hastily. We have some great adventure scenes and intrigue. Not as gritty as some of the other novels in this genre but has that edge that puts it in the category with those novels. This is not your rainbows and cotton candy MC novel and I for one loved that about the story. The steam level is high but doesn't overshadow the story or become the story. This is a wonderfully character driven tale and I can't wait to read more novels in the series. Like all good biker novels the secondary cast of characters were just as good as the main characters and it was wonderful to get a peak into Raine's life now that she is settled, happy and is a mother.
I'm not going to go into the story because I think you really need to experience it and I don't want to spoil it all I will say is that it was worth the wait.
Paul Marinaro's writing surpasses many in the romance genre and has made herself a name to be reckoned with I can't wait to read Glory's story which is the next novel in this series and am dying to see her create new series and characters I can follow. A strong 4 star review and if you are a MC aficionado like myself this is a DO NOT MISS! read.
Thanks Netgalley for the opportunity to give an honest review.
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
|Amazon US ~ Amazon UK ~ B&N|
I loved Harper Sloan's Corps Security Series and was sad to see it end so imagine my surprise when I found out that Hope Town is a spin off of the series with the first book being Cohen and Dani's story. I got all excited and I have to say it didn't let me down.
~Loved Cohen as a child and adore Cohen as an Adult...Meet my newest book boyfriend~
If you read Corps Security you will remember that Axel had a little girl named Dani and that Cage adopted his lady love's son Cohen. We got to see quite a bit of Cohen in that series with his superman cape and his fascination of Cage's pierced privates. l personally loved him...and to have him all grown up and following in his step father's footprints is all I needed to have me completely bought into the story. To have his romance be with the "little princess" Dani and to have her over protective father and brother made the story hilarious in places.
Now, Dani faced some challenges and there was some angst to get these two together and all this made a wonderfully fast paced story with action, romance and a good flashback to our beloved Corps character...Swag, Axel, etc....
This coming of age story has everything we would want in a Harper Sloan story, and Cohen turned into a super sweet alpha male and Dani had just enough spunk to attract him. This created some wonderful sexual tension which built into a HAWT! steamy read.
I gave the novel a 4 star rating and a t'irla recommendation..treat yourself to this wonderful post Valentine Day read and keep the love going....NOW AVAILABLE!!
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Unexpected Fate by Harper Sloan
“Axel Reid, don’t you dare!” my mom exclaims. Then she yelps when my daddy charges through the front door.
“Don’t I dare what, Princess? No way that boy is going near my girl. Look at him! He looks like he can’t wait to creep on my daughter!”
“Well, there is no need to scare him to death!” she mocks.
My cheeks heat instantly when I see Dane start backing away from the porch. My hopes of being able to actually go to my senior prom are starting to go up in flames.
Just like that.
Not that I should be surprised about it. Mom did her best to calm Daddy down, but we should have known better. He took one look at me and stormed over, only to return ten minutes later looking like he does now.
“You need to stop this nonsense right now, you big lug, or you’ll be sleeping on the couch,” Mom fumes.
“Like hell I will, woman!” Daddy roars at my mom.
I watch her face get sharp. He stops long enough to sling one of—that’s right, ONE of—the rifles he’s carrying over his shoulder, where it lands next to the other one he already has over his other shoulder.
Only my mom would be brave enough to deal with him when he’s in “Protect Dani from everything with a penis” mode. He looks absolutely ridiculous. He has two hunting rifles now hanging by their leather straps over each shoulder. He has two handguns strapped to each thick thigh, two on each side of his belt, and various knives along the way. His shirt, which he thinks is hilarious to wear when I attempt to go out on a date, says I kill things…and eat them. I know it’s a hunting shirt—for animals, not teenage boys—but Dane doesn’t.
Mom moves in front of him, standing in the front doorway and blocking his path, where Dane is still slowly retreating. She’s been dealing with this way before they even had me. He’s…protective. I guess that’s the nicest way to put it. Well, she calls him protective. However, I call it possessive, overbearing, controlling, demanding, and jerky.
“This is her senior prom, Ax. You wouldn’t let her go last year.” She pauses when he grunts. “And I’m sorry, but you won’t be stopping her this year. She has a right to experience this. And Dane is a nice boy. Right, Dane?” she yells over her shoulder.
“Uhh…” he stammers, causing my daddy to grunt some more.
“The boy doesn’t even know how to talk, Izzy. I bet he will be nothing but handsy and think with his little pecker. Nope. No way. Not near my baby girl.”
Oh. My. God. I wish I could just fall into a hole right now. I try to see over my parents to find out if Dane heard that, but with Daddy basically being a giant, that’s not happening.
“You did not just say that!” I yell at his back.
Daddy turns around, his movements awkward with how many weapons he has strapped to his body. His green eyes, so like my own, slant and harden. He looks down at my dress for the thousandth time since I came downstairs and doesn’t even bother hiding his displeasure that it’s showing too much of my body. Even if it is about as tasteful as it gets.
My strapless, red dress has a sweetheart neckline, and everything he calls my “girly bits” is covered. There isn’t really any cleavage. Well, okay, there is some, but surely with my lack of being busty, you couldn’t even call what is showing “cleavage.” His first problem was with how much of my legs was showing. Then I made the mistake of turning around without my wrap on. That’s when he saw that the dress was completely backless to my bra line. Well, what it would be if I had been wearing one. Which is clearly when he lost his mind.
“You look just like your mother did that night twenty years ago when we finally came back to each other. Right down to those strappy shoe things. And I guarantee you, Danielle Reid, any teenage boy who doesn’t bat for the other team will be thinking thoughts I’ll cut his dick off for. No. You aren’t going with that boy, and that’s final.”
I harden my eyes, and his narrow even further.
I put my hands on my hips, and he squares his shoulders, his rifles clinking together.
I raise one brow, and he mirrors the action.
“No, you won’t. You have more balls than that.”
“Want to bet?” I attempt to muster up some tears, knowing that he won’t be able to handle them, but before I can force the first one out, my brother jumps into my line of sight and blocks our standoff.
“Yo, Dane! You just run along now. Dani is unfortunately feeling a little under the weather. Ebola. Or the flu. I don’t know. It’s really ugly and you probably don’t want to be around this. The boils—they could pop at any moment.”
“You did not just do that,” I heatedly whisper, fuming at his nerve.
Nate turns and smirks at me. “Oh I just did.”
“I can’t believe you two!” I spin to look at the one person who can help me. “Mom, seriously?”
Her expression softens, and she just shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Dani. I tried.”
“You two,” I start, pointing between my older brother and father. “You just can’t leave it alone? I’ll be eighteen in a few months. What are you jerks going to do then?”
“You’re not dating, Danielle. Not ever.”
“Oh yeah, Daddy? And how realistic is that crap?”
“Watch your mouth, little princess.”
“I’m so sorry, Dani.” She walks over and wraps me in her small arms.
I could probably really cry now a lot easier than when I was trying to fake it, but I’ve never been one of those girls who weep constantly. It would be easier to just go upstairs, take off the dress mom and I spent hours looking for, scrub off the light makeup she helped me apply, and pretend this night didn’t happen.
An hour later, I’m sitting in my bedroom, still wearing my perfect dress. My makeup is still done and my hair is still flowing in long waves. And I’m no less mad at the men in my life than I was earlier. I’ve considered climbing out my window. I’ve considered asking my best friends, Lyn and Lila, to come help me escape. But what would be the point? Rambo-Dad already scared away my date, the only boy left in school who had been willing to ask me even though his friends had warned him about my father.
I lie down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling. Maybe I should go away for college. I planned on living at home while I attended Georgia Tech, but there is no way I can deal with this stuff any longer. If my father had things his way, I would be shipped off to become a nun. Or he would buy an island and make it an all-girls cult.
“Uhggggg!” I yell to the empty room.
“Seriously, Dani-girl, things can’t be that bad.”
I jump up when I hear the deep, gravelly, insanely sexy voice coming from my bedroom door. That voice. My lord. The things it alone does to me should be classified as illegal.
My hair slaps me in the face, a good handful landing in my open mouth, and I hastily pull it out before I turn to where he is standing.
My lord, he’s beautiful. He’s always been. My heart speeds up when I take in his smirking face and the mischief dancing in his brown eyes.
“Cat got your tongue?”
I shake my head.
I shake it again.
“Do you really have some flesh-eating, boil-slash-Ebola-like sickness?” he laughs.
I narrow my eyes at him, and his rich laughter booms through the room.
“I’m just kidding, Dani-girl. Come on. Get yourself ready and let’s go rock this prom.”
My jaw drops again. “What?”
For the first time, I notice that he’s dressed in a perfectly tailored tux. My eyes travel down his tall form to his shining, black dress shoes. On the way back up, my eyes hit the corsage spinning around his finger before I look back up into those gorgeous eyes.
“Let’s go, beautiful.”
“Does Daddy know you’re here?” I ask, not moving from my spot.
He sighs, steps into my room, and walks over. His cologne, Gucci Black, wraps around me. He’s worn the same scent for years. I perversely sniff it every time I hit the mall with Lyn and Lila. That scent—it’s my undoing.
He grabs one of my hands and gives my knuckles a kiss before placing the corsage around my wrist. He gives my hand a squeeze before letting go. Placing his strong hands on my shoulders, he presses down until I’m seated on my bed. Kneeling before me, he takes my feet one by one and fastens the straps of my black heels before standing and grabbing my hands, again, to pull me to my feet.
The whole time, I act like a freak and just gape at him.
What in the hell is going on?
“Ready?” he asks.
“Right. You’re ready,” he laughs, grabs my hand, and pulls me through the house, down the stairs, and into the entryway of the house, where my parents are waiting.
Mom has her camera ready, forcing us to take some pictures, for all of which I’m sure I’m just standing there in a daze. I think I smiled in them, but I was too busy trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Daddy smiles big and triumphantly the whole time, like he’s won some battle here.
“Oh, good. You got here,” Nate mumbles through a sandwich he’s stuffing down his throat.
I shake out of my stunned stupor and look over at him. “You did this?” I ask with disbelief.
“Well, duh. Can’t have my little sister miss her prom because of some boils. Plus, I knew this guy,” he says, pointing at our father, “wouldn’t mind him.” He takes another bite before he looks over my shoulder. “And I know he isn’t going to try to pet the cat.”
“Nathaniel Gregory!” Mom gasps.
“What? Why do you think Dad acts like he does? Just because I’m willing to say the words doesn’t mean you have to freak out.”
I look over at my mom, who has turned bright red.
Daddy laughs at her embarrassment and pulls her into his arms. “Are you sure we didn’t drop that one a few times as a baby?”
She slaps his hard stomach and shakes her head. “You look beautiful, honey. Have fun, okay?”
I smile at her and move my eyes to Daddy to judge his mood.
He just smiles at me. “I trust him. He won’t let any of those pimple-faced, prepubescent boys touch a beautiful hair on your head. Have fun, sweetheart.”
I walk over and give them both a hug, standing up on my toes as far as a can to whisper my gratitude in his ear. He’s annoying, overprotective, and possessive of his girls, but I love him and I know he comes from a good place.
“Uh, excuse me? Do I not get any little-sister love here? I’m the one running this show, you know?”
“You’re such a dork, Nate,” I laugh and give him a hug before turning back to my date.
He’s standing by the door, talking in low tones to my daddy. I can’t hear him, but he’s still smiling, so I’m guessing there isn’t any talk about dismemberment going on. He looks over, his smile deepening and the lines around his eyes crinkling. Something moves behind his eyes that darkens them slightly, but he looks back over at Daddy, finishing up their conversation.
“Ready, Dani-girl?” he asks a few minutes later, making my heart speed up again.
“Yeah. I’m ready.” Or at least as ready as I’ll ever be.
That night, while dancing to Brett Young’s “Kiss by Kiss,” I knew I would never be the same. I could feel the jealous waves coming off every female in the room as he held me in his arms. Of course, I had a man and not a boy as my date. Five years older than I am and very obviously not a teenager.
Being held in his arms was a dream come true. His scent invaded my lungs with every inhale. His eyes twinkled as his smile held me hostage. I knew I would never love a man as much as I love him.
Yeah. That was the night I confirmed what I had always known. What I had always felt.
Cohen Cage owned my heart and I never wanted it back.
Meet Cohen & Danielle
in the newest stand alone
in the Hope Town Series
by Harper Sloan!
Releasing: February 17th
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1Aguv8a
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1z4HNQJ
Unexpected Fate(Stand alone)
Or I should say recognize him for who he was.
I’ve loved Cohen Cage since I was a small child. He’s been my everything for the last twenty-two years. I’ve loved him through every girlfriend he’s ever brought home. Through his college years and then mine. I’ve loved him through two deployments. And ever since the day I told him how I felt, he’s acted like I’m a stranger.
My name is Danielle Reid, and it’s time for me to get my man.
Our future is an unexpected fate, and no matter what our parents, siblings, and friends say…it’s going to be worth every second of the fight to make it happen.
About the Author:
Harper lives in small town Georgia just a short drive from her hometown of Peachtree City. She (and her 3 daughters) enjoy ruling the house they dubbed 'Estrogen Ocean', much to her husband’s chagrin. Harper has a borderline unhealthy obsession with books; you can almost ALWAYS find her with her eReader attached. She enjoys bad reality TV and cheesy romantic flicks. Her favorite kind of hero--the super alpha kind!
Harper started using writing as a way to unwind when the house went to sleep at night; and with a house full of crazy it was the perfect way to just relax. It didn't take long before a head full of very demanding alphas would stop at nothing to have their story told.
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Wednesday, February 4, 2015
MANWHORE by Katy Evans
I look very different than the girl Saint met in his office. But I don’t feel any different. My nerves are frayed to the edges as I give my name to a bouncer at the entrance and I’m allowed into the club, every part of me snug and tight in my dress as my black heels hit the floor.
Whereas M4 was all museum-like, the Ice Box is pure dark decadence. Ice sculptures sit on pedestals around the room. Cages with body-painted dancers hang from the ceiling. A bar with white and blue lights stretches from one wall to another.
Strobe lights flash across the space as I get jostled by the crowd. The bass thumps as the song “Waves” by Mr. Probz plays for the dancing crowd. Drinks are flowing on shiny silver trays, and the drinks are so adorned—by fruits, olives, salt glitter or colorful liquid swirls—they’re like artworks. This isn’t a normal swanky club. It’s the rich boys’ club and everywhere you look are beautiful people wearing beautiful things.
“I met him! God! When he said hi I thought I’d faint…!”
My nerves eat at me as I hear that, because I know for sure they’re talking about him. Trying to breathe, I wind deeper into the club, wishing for Gina so bad I ache. The room is packed with women, some clearly on the hunt, others already paired with someone, a few hanging out with their friends. I breathe slowly, in and out, telling myself I can do this. It’s just a club. I can have some fun. It’s been a while since I’ve gone out to a club, and never a club like this, but it doesn’t matter. I can interview people, and if I’m lucky, I can do more than that.
After scanning the area and trying to find the best spy-spots, I go to the top level and that’s when I get the best look at what’s happening downstairs at the most crowded corner.
And speak of the devil. My heart stops a beat when I see that dark head of his, and that loathed, burning knot in my stomach squeezes with a vengeance. I swear no one in my life has ever made me this nervous.
He sits with his arms stretched out behind him, a wine glass and two women vying for his attention as he chats with his friends. His masculine face is illuminated in certain angles when the lights flash—his beauty unprecedented.
Okay. Breathing. Do I want him to know I’m here or not?
A watery sensation seems to spread down my limbs as I force myself to go downstairs. I wind a path to the ladies’ room and worm myself through the throng of bodies toward a wide mirror above a set of modernist floating sinks. A group of women preen at themselves while I look our reflections. To my right, a woman pouts her red lips, and to my left, her friend pouts her pink ones. Me? I’m still me, but I look extravagant, like I was born here. I look very different than the young girl in coveralls he met. Will he even recognize me like this?
“You going to the after-party?” Red Lips asks Pink Lips as they retouch their lipsticks.
“No key yet.”
“Lookie lookie.” Red Lips waves a keycard in the air.
There’s squealing in the room and she tucks the key into her bra. “Mine!”
“So there’s an after-party?” I ask them.
“At Saint’s penthouse,” one says, nodding.
“How do you get invited to this party?”
“A hundred keys are distributed during the evening.”
A sudden thought of stealing the very key she’s just tucked into her bra flickers through my mind. I mean, it’s just a key. It couldn’t possibly be a felony.
“Babe,” she tells me, “stop giving my key the eye! I’ve been waiting three years to get a key like this. Go and work your ass out there if you want one. Only the finest asses make it.”
“Thanks,” I say, turning to look at my ass in the mirror questioningly. Gina says I’ve got a great ass. It’s perky and the perfect handful, some would say. But would Saint say that?
I sigh and lean against the wall, then I spot all the little writings on an open stall door. I narrow my eyes, forcing my focus.
Malcolm for my baby-daddy
I sucked Saint’s cock
Tahoe rammed me right here
Callan licks cunt like a caveman
I head back into the noise and try to find a good spot for spying when I see him again. The two women won’t leave his side and now my stomach for some reason feels jumpy, annoying me. One of the blondes takes a shot from the waiter, licks the rim, and then adds salt.
Saint edges back and watches her with an expression of casual boredom, but his lips are curled, as if he’s having some fun.
I’m so engrossed watching—a little too fascinated and a little bit disgusted—I don’t realize a guard has walked up to me until he’s right in my face. He signals to the back of the room—to where Saint’s best friends are now watching me. Saint isn’t even looking my way. Oh no, he’s too busy being entertained, still wearing that almost-bored smile. Maybe they need to take their tops off to get him excited?
All three men fit in perfectly with the lavish surroundings, but I can’t look at the other two. Only at Malcolm. Malcolm’s dark good looks blend with the shadows like Hades in his own little corner of hell.
Suddenly he laughs over something one of the blondes does and he turns a little, his eyes landing straight on me—and stopping there.
I feel his stare like a hit of adrenaline. I want to look away, but I can’t, I feel trapped. I don’t know if I made this up but I could’ve sworn his chest jerked as if he sucked in a breath.
Does he recognize me?
Do I want him to?
Suddenly the atmosphere is so heavy I can’t breathe. My lungs feel like rocks and I really can’t breathe. As he rakes me in one fast, complete sweep of his eyes that makes my stomach grip nervously, he takes in my pumps up to my long blonde hair, and I become aware of my dress hugging the top of my thighs, my hips, my abdomen, my breasts and even my ass. Oh god. I force myself to follow the guard in his direction, every step accelerating my heartbeat. In that black suit and without a tie, the top button of his shirt open and his hair a bit rumpled, Saint is the embodiment of luxurious and decadent and sin. He is Sin Itself and I feel like an absolute…virgin.
He stretches his long legs out before him, his stare fixed on mine without any seeming inclination to move away.
“Mr. Saint,” the guard clears his throat. “The gentlemen had me summon her.”
Although his smile doesn’t waver, the look on his face is completely remote and unreadable.
“Here she is, gentlemen,” the guard then tells the other two—the blond and the copper-haired men looking at me like lunch.
“Tahoe,” the blonde says.
“Callan,” the copper-haired says.
Saint merely pats the blondes on the butt and sends them on her way, then he reaches out to take my elbow somehow in an instinctive gesture that brings me a strange sense of comfort. I don’t know anybody else here, so when he tugs me to his side, I go down and sit next to him on the edge of the long booth.
And that’s when he leans his dark head over to me and murmurs, “Malcolm.” His voice is so deep and rumbling, I shiver.
“Rachel,” I lamely offer.
He raises his eyebrow and stares at me. What are you doing here, Rachel? he seems to ask.
I’m wondering what to say, when Tahoe lifts his drink and drains it. “You’re up past your bedtime.” The Texan oil baby. Oozing charm, drawling out the words.
I don’t know why but I’m acutely aware of the position of Saint’s body in relation to mine. He just straightened fully in the booth and somehow shifted so his arm is very noticeably stretched out behind me.
“Like they say, no rest for the wicked,” I answer Tahoe with an extra-wide smile, my heart pounding over Saint’s nearness.
Suddenly I can smell him. Just him. Among all the mingled scents in the room, it’s Saint somehow in my lungs, in every breath. He radiates a vitality that draws me like a magnet. It unnerves me but something in his presence, so close to me, soothes me too.
“Apparently there’s a dress code—Saint had to drop his tail and horns at the door,” Callan jokes as a waiter sets a drink before me.
“Oh yes.” I tug the hem of my skirt self-consciously, “I had to drop half my dress.”
“Did you now?” Tahoe asks.
One word, one letter, from Malcolm.
“Yeah, Saint?” Tahoe returns, lifting his eyebrows.
I almost spit out the drink. I cough and slam my hand to my chest, and Saint calmly reaches out to take my drink from my hand and sets it aside. “Okay?” he asks, ducking his head and peering into my face.
I give one last cough and squeeze my eyes shut and nod, and when I open my eyes, Saint is the only thing I see. I find him staring at me in such a penetrating way I can feel the stare in my bones.
“Did you just get to the party, Rachel?” he asks.
As he waits for my reply, he reaches for my cocktail and extends the glass out to me. His wrist is thick and looks so strong, so golden, his skin smooth, his arm dusted with a little bit of hair as I cautiously take it from him, our fingers brushing.
Tahoe reaches for his coat pocket and waves whatever he extracted in the air. “Saint! May I?”
Excitement leaps in my chest when I realize it’s the key!
“Not happening, that’s not her scene,” Malcolm murmurs besides me.
“Aw! Come on, let me give her a key. She’s a dime, man,” Tahoe drawls.
I’m so disbelieving, I’m not even breathing as Malcolm slowly stands. I follow him up, staring up into his face in confusion.
“What do you mean it’s not my scene?” I demand. I feel like there’s no gravity when he stands so close to me. I’m dizzy. Confused. And unexpectedly hurt.
For the first time since we met, he looks at me like he’s actually losing his temper…with me. He leans closer and puts his lips close to my ear. “Trust me when I tell you, it’s not your scene. Go home,” he whispers. He sends me a look laden with warning and walks away, blending into the crowd.
Tahoe and Callan stare at me, speechless. “That’s a first,” Tahoe mumbles and heads away.
I feel myself burn in humiliation and confusion. Worse is that, when I go outside, the same man who drove us around the day before walks over to me.
“Miss Livingston, a pleasure to drive you,” he says, hanging up his phone as if Saint just called him. He is a huge man, with a bald head, an earpiece, and no expression. A second later, he’s opening the car door of the Rolls for me.
Did Saint call him just now and ask him to escort me home?
Aware of people staring and seeing me being led to Saint’s car, I climb into the back of the car and I murmur my thanks simply because it’s not this man’s fault.
The car smells new and expensive and, like him. A bottle of wine and water bottles ride with me. There’s music in the background and the temperature is just right. The perfect luxury of it all tempts me to run my hands down my dress and look down at myself in confusion. What is wrong with me?
I feel as if he pulled the rug from under me and reminded me what I’m up against. The top of the species. Somebody ruthless.I can’t take the heat in the back of my ears and on my cheeks. I sag on the backseat and set my forehead on the window. Focus, Livingston! Exhaling, I grab my phone and try to write down all the details about what I saw, but I can’t right now. I just can’t do anything but ride here, in his car, wondering why I feel so vulnerable.
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1LG6ThL
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1BYFl1v
Amazon Paperback: http://amzn.to/16oqq
B&N Paperback: http://tinyurl.com/kmu4brk
RELEASE DATE: March 24th
book #1 of ‘the manwhore series’
Is it possible to expose Chicago’s hottest player—without getting played?
This is the story I’ve been waiting for all my life, and its name is Malcolm Kyle Preston Logan Saint. Don’t be fooled by that last name though. There’s nothing holy about the man except the hell his parties raise. The hottest entrepreneur Chicago has ever known, he’s a man’s man with too much money to spend and too many women vying for his attention.
Mysterious. Privileged. Legendary. His entire life he’s been surrounded by the press as they dig for tidbits to see if his fairytale life is for real or all mirrors and social media lies. Since he hit the scene, his secrets have been his and his alone to keep. And that’s where I come in.
Assigned to investigate Saint and reveal his elusive personality, I’m determined to make him the story that will change my career.
But I never imagined he would change my life. Bit by bit, I start to wonder if I’m the one discovering him…or if he’s uncovering me.
What happens when the man they call Saint, makes you want to sin?
About the Author:
Hey! I’m Katy Evans and I love family, books, life, and love. I’m married with two children and three dogs and spend my time baking, walking, writing, reading, and taking care of my family. Thank you for spending your time with me and picking up my story. I hope you had an amazing time with it, like I did. If you’d like to know more about books in progress, look me up on the Internet, I’d love to hear from you!