Saturday, 20 September 2008

Blue for you...

Micah Blue - review

Micah Blue of the pink hair and take no prisoners attitude is a great character. Ms. Jones has written her with a terrific sense of humor and there is humor scattered throughout the story. There are also some great sex scenes both with the demon and with Ned that are really steamy. Ned is a hot guy with a hot body and a white knight complex who is determined to have Micah for himself, demon or no demon. This couple sets the sheets on fire while discovering a deeper connection and foiling the plans of a demon. A very good paranormal read with great characters, hot sex, laughs and a happy ending.

Have you checked out Winning Bess by talented author Marissa Alwin yet? If not you are missing out on a hot and romantic read. Take squiz below then click on the cover to buy…go on – treat yourself.

Winning Bess

The blurb…

1847 Ireland was a place of hardship and devastation, and Bess and her father wouldn't have been able to escape without Colm Devaney. But Bess' feelings for Colm go well beyond gratitude. Now they find themselves together in an immigrant neighborhood in New York City, sharing a cramped shack. And Bess wants to get even closer.

Three things aid Colm's survival—a small bit of savings, his ready fists and his desperate desire to have Bess... in every way possible. Every night he spends in their close quarters, trying to force himself not to peek at her luscious body as she bathes, is pure torture. The few stolen minutes of passion they finally share are heavenly, but leave them both fraught for more. More determined than ever to win Bess and take her far from their dirty, dangerous life, Colm sets his eye on another prize—an exquisite sapphire that goes to the winner of the fiercest prizefight in Five Points.

The excerpt…

Don’t look.
Don’t peek.
Just breathe.
His body burned with lust. The rough cloth of his trousers kept his stiff cock in place. He balled up his hands so he wouldn’t fondle himself. Even in the dark corner on his sleeping pallet, he didn’t want to get caught rubbing his manhood.
“Colm Devaney, are you listening ta me?” Bess asked from her side of the room. Water splashed in a bowl.
He swallowed. Sure he was listening. Sort of. It’d be easier if Bess didn’t have her top down around her waist as she washed her breasts. Big, firm, round breasts.
Breasts meant to fill a man’s hands.
A thin blanket ran between the walls as a barrier, but with the candle burning on her side, the material offered no protection at all. Hungrily, he peeked once more as her father’s snores rattled the roof of the alleyway shack.
A hand lingered over a breast before she lifted her arm and washed her side, shoulder and arm.
When his cock twitched, he bit back a moan.
Sweat broke out on his forehead. Thankfully she’d soon be asleep, giving him the privacy he needed to bring himself to release.
His balls tightened in anticipation. He hated waiting.
“I’ve made up my mind.” She rung out the rag to wash the other arm. “I’ve got no other choice…”
“What?” He sat up, only to wince. Shifting, he managed to get his cock a little more freedom. “What other choice?”
Bess turned to face his direction. “You big lug. I knew you hadn’t been listening.” In a huff, she turned away.
Damn English dogs.
No. The English may have driven him from Ireland to America, but Colm had no one but himself to blame for this situation. Still, it was nice to blame the English.
When Bess’ father had come to him for aid, Colm couldn’t say no. He hadn’t wanted to. Truth be told, he’d thanked the Lord for the opportunity to get closer to Bess. She and her father had no other relatives, just as many other immigrants found themselves alone here.
Only he hadn’t known how hard living with Bess would be. And before bed was the worst. Her bath routine seemed to be getting longer and longer.
Bess peered at him over the blanket once more. “I’m going to take O’Boyle up on his offer. It won’t make me a fortune but it will help with the cost of Da’s medicine.” There was sad resignation in her voice.
Bile of both disgust and worry churned its way up from his stomach. The mention of the thieving O’Boyle’s name alone sickened him. In a flash, he was across the room, offering her a glare of his own. “Over my dead body.” He’d be long dead before Bess would work for that scum.
She gasped.
He took another step forward. Too close, but he didn’t care. “You’ll not work for the likes of that rat bastard.” While he and countless others had needed to come to New York, far too many of them fell prey to those uncaring like O’Boyle. The city could be far crueler than death by starvation. Neither false temptation or hunger would claim Bess.
“You’re not me father.” She lifted her chin in defiance. “I’ll be making my own decisions.”
A tremble set in. Anger and desire mingled in his blood. He wanted to have a say over her choices. At least the dangerous choices.
Damn it and damn the English.
Don’t be getting any ideas, Colm. Me daughter is too good for the likes of you. She’s meant for someone special. Not an English bastard. I thank you for your protection all the same.
The dying man’s words echoed once more in his head.
Colm was no fool. Bess’ father had sought aid from him because of his height and ready fists.
Standing too close to the makeshift barrier, he blinked down over the blanket at the eyeful he’d been given—or had taken.
Big lush breasts tipped with dark rosy nipples stood straight out for his view.
“Get your eyes back in your head, Colm Devaney.” She snatched her top up. “What do you take me for?”
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?