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The Mount Trilogy continues with
I’m his entertainment. His toy. Payment on a debt.
I tell myself I hate him, but every time he walks into the room, my body betrays me. How can I want him and fear him in the same moment?
They told me he’d mess with my head. Make it go to war with my body.
But I didn’t realize it would be complete anarchy.
I should’ve known better. When Mount’s involved, there are no rules.
I will not surrender. I will not show weakness. I’ll stand my ground and make it out of this bargain with my heart and soul intact.
But he has other plans . . .
Defiant Queen is the second book of the Mount Trilogy. Mount and Keira’s story concludes in Sinful Empire.
Spoiler Free Review
Meghan March can write the heck out of a series! Whoa! The end of Ruthless King, book one in the Mount trilogy, left me stunned and desperate for the next book, and damn it if she didn’t do it again here.
Defiant Queen, book two of the Mount trilogy, doesn’t mess around; it dives head first into some of the questions/theories about the first book. And that first chapter… O.M.G.
In this book, we learn more about Mount, his history, how he operates, what motivates him, and what he really hopes to get from Keira. A peek at Lachlan, the man, and lots of time with him one-on-one with Keira is revelatory. And, don’t worry. Their chemistry is still as blazing hot as it was in book one, so make sure to have that fan ready.
With a few additional characters added, new questions pop up as old ones are resolved that left me eyeing the book sideways, never quite sure if what I thought was happening, really was. So, when the cliffy ending arrived, I was just as gobsmacked as I was at the end of Ruthless King and desperate for the next book, Sinful Empire.
Get ready for the darker and dirtier side of New Orleans with a brand new alpha romance from USA Today bestselling author Meghan March.
New Orleans belongs to me.
You don’t know my name, but I control everything you see—and all the things you don’t.
My reach knows no bounds, and my demands are always met.
I didn’t need to loan money to a failing family distillery, but it amuses me to have them in my debt.
To have her in my debt.
She doesn’t know she caught my attention.
She should’ve been more careful.
I’m going to own her. Consume her. Maybe even keep her.
It’s time to collect what I’m owed.
Keira Kilgore, you’re now the property of Lachlan Mount.
*Ruthless King is book one of the Mount Trilogy*
Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She’s also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she’s ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at email@example.com.
(Jordan’s Game Series, #1)
Publication date: January 16th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense
The spotlight is my enemy.
The cameras are my cure.
Jordan Wells says he can help me. Heal my soul and fix my fear so I can perform on stage again to a sold-out crowd. His game gives me a reason to go on, but his price is total exposure.
The stranger watching my every move is anonymous.
Or is he?
The daily notes he leaves seem familiar. His unreasonable requests bring out all my hidden fears. And then one night in the dark… his touch is everything I ever wanted.
It was supposed to be a guaranteed win.
A way to move past the performance anxiety.
One less thing to worry about in a sea of dreadful things to worry about.
But what we do in the secret anonymity of night might be more frightening than anything else.
Because I like it. And I want more of it. And I’m willing to give up everything just so I can play this game forever…
JA Huss is the USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty romances. She likes stories about family, loyalty, and extraordinary characters who struggle with basic human emotions while dealing with bigger than life problems. JA loves writing heroes who make you swoon, heroines who makes you jealous, and the perfect Happily Ever After ending.
You can chat with her on Facebook (www.facebook.com/AuthorJAHuss), Twitter (@jahuss), and her blog, New Adult Addiction (www.jahuss.com).
If you’re interested in getting your hands on an advanced release copy of her upcoming books, sneak peek teasers, or information on her upcoming personal appearances, you can join her newsletter list (http://eepurl.com/JVhAr) and get those details delivered right to your inbox.
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Not all fantasies are safe, sane, and consensual. Welcome to the world of The Gallery…
Juliet meets Fort St. Clair on a miserable, drunken night, and wakes up the next morning cuffed to his guest room bed. Of course, Fort would never take advantage of her. No, the pleasure and pain he wants to inflict on her body must be negotiated in advance, because once Juliet sets foot in his private, exclusive dungeon, she belongs to him.
BDSM at The Gallery is supposed to be a straightforward arrangement, an affair by the rules, but Juliet and Fort’s growing connection brings unexpected emotions they can’t control. She’s the free spirit who transforms his rigid world, and he’s the Dominant she can finally trust—or can she?
I crossed to join him on the sofa, leaving some space between us for the questions and uneasiness to fit. He put his cup on the table behind him, then reached across the space to touch the top of my knee. His fingers trailed over the place he’d grabbed me last night, lightly, nothing sexual now. He wanted to discuss things. A future for us, maybe.
Next, he tilted my neck, inspecting the place where he’d bit me, his touch lingering like he might still soothe the pain. “No marks,” he said. “At least nothing obvious. You feel okay?”
“Yes, I feel fine.” I felt more than fine. God, I felt a million things. “How do you feel?” I asked, turning the question back on him.
“Conflicted,” he said, coming right out with it. “Here’s the thing about last night. What I did to you up against the wall in that work room…that was me on my best behavior. That was me being a gentleman.”
“Was it?” I took a sip of my tea now that it was cooler. “It felt pretty nice.”
“I can be worse. I usually am when it comes to sex.”
“Hmm.” I took another sip of tea to process, rolling the vanilla and cinnamon flavors on my tongue. “You mean you can be even rougher?”
“Rougher, colder, more intense. I’m a Dominant, but it’s more accurate to call me a sexual sadist. I like to hurt women and force them to do things for my pleasure. It’s how I prefer to get off.”
“I understand about BDSM.”
He shook his head. “You understand mainstream BDSM, the safe, sane, consensual stuff they do at Underworld. You’re into the romance of it, the slap and tickle to get off. To me, that’s going through the motions. It’s not real. Well, not real enough.”
I met his gaze, wondering what he meant by that. Not real enough?
“It’s hard to explain,” he went on, an edge of frustration in his voice. “Especially to a BDSM baby like you.”
“A BDSM baby?” I protested. “Maybe I’m a mess, but I’m not a baby. I’ve been submissive for years. I’ve done a lot of scenes, experimented with a lot of things.”
“I’m not trying to insult you. I’m trying to explain. You’ve been with a few Doms, you’ve participated in the lifestyle, but at the end of the day, you’re looking for pleasure, a good time.” He grimaced. “I’m into something different.”
“You don’t like having a good time? How does that work?” I blinked in confusion. “Why do you do whatever the hell you do if it’s not fun?”
“It’s fun to me. Dark fun, though.” He shifted, pushing back his hair. “I do BDSM for the rush and release. I like to push boundaries, and hang out with other people who like to push boundaries. Places like Underworld only scratch the surface of power exchange. I belong to a private club where people…go a little further.”
“So…” I put my tea on the low table in front of us. “This is why you’re not good for me? Your sadism is the reason you believe we won’t work out?”
“It’s hard for me to work out with anyone, Juliet. Except, you know, the women who come to the private club. I can be as rough as I want, as cruel as I want, and they want more.”
I looked away from him, biting my lip, considering how to reply. “Do you think…” I turned back to him. “Do you think I didn’t want more last night? Do you think I responded badly to your force?”
He held my gaze. “I think you responded wonderfully. That’s why I’m sitting here on your couch, drinking tea with you, which I literally fucking hate.” He picked up his cup as if to illustrate his point, pounded the rest of his tea, and swallowed with a disgusted face. “I hate tea, Jewels. More than anything in the world.”
“I’m not sorry. I only meant to say hi to you last night, but it went further than that, and now we have to decide…”
“Decide if we’re going to go further still?” I looked at him from under my lashes. “How often do you go to your private club to do dark, sadistic, non-fun things?”
“Often enough,” he said tightly. “And I don’t always play with the same women. It’s not a relationship thing, where we all pair up into couples.”
“It’s a sex club thing.”
He shrugged. “It’s scratching a mutual itch with no emotional expectations. So it’s not for everyone, especially emotional types. When the wrong people get caught up in that kind of lifestyle, the results aren’t pretty. That’s why I’ve been trying to stay away from you, even though I find you painfully attractive.”
“Painfully attractive.” I sniffed and sipped my tea. “Can’t hurt me, can’t live without me.”
“It’s not a joke, Juliet.”
“I know.” If it were a joke, I wouldn’t feel such lust and confusion, such horrible curiosity. “You could show me the kind of dark stuff you like to do,” I suggested. “You could invite me to this club to see what goes on, and I could tell you how I felt about it.”
“Spectators aren’t allowed. Only vetted people are allowed at the club, so there aren’t any misunderstandings.”
“Oh.” At this point, I understood what he was trying to say. Even after last night’s scorching-hot hookup, he thought we might be terminally non-compatible.
He reached for my hand and held it hard. His deep hazel eyes hit me full force, his lips pressed in a line. “I’m trying to protect you,” he said. “Since I can’t…” Those eyes raked over me, leaving me feeling stripped. “Since I can’t enter into any kind of…”
“Relationship,” I provided.
“Any kind of relationship with you, especially the sweet, emotional relationship you probably want…”
I let out a long breath. “That’s fucked up. You don’t know me well enough to know what kind of relationship I want. Honest talk: I wanted sex from you from that first sober morning I met you, and I got it.” I stood with my cup and saucer, carrying my tepid tea over to the sink. It had too much sugar. It was too sweet, like me. “I don’t have any judgment about your…your thing. Your sexual sadism, your private club, your playboy ways.”
“Playboy ways,” he repeated in an amused mutter.
“At the same time, I think you’re kind of an asshole. If you don’t want a relationship with me, don’t ask me to dinner at the Ivy. Don’t invite my boss to be part of your ad campaign, and then drop by his art show to fuck me against a wall after weeks without contact.”
“I tried to call you after the Ivy. You blocked my number, Sparkles.”
I glared at him from the kitchen. “Sparkles?”
“To go with Jewels. To go with your eyes when you get really emo and intense.”
I picked up a dishtowel and started aggressively wiping invisible spots on the counter. “I had to block your number, Fort. No offense to you personally. I’m just at the point where I have to be more careful about the men I let into my life.”
“As you should be.” He stood to bring me his cup, his expression turned serious. “I try to be careful too. I try to maintain boundaries when I think someone might be easily hurt.”
My eyes widened. “Me? You think I’m some fragile flower? I’m just super sensitive to bullshit right now.”
He didn’t reply, only watched me with his lofty, level gaze. A sadist? Definitely. He could hurt me in so many ways, and those were only the ways I knew about.
“Come here, Sparkles,” he said from across the counter.
“My name’s not Sparkles.”
“Come here, Juliet.”
I wanted to say no. I wanted to make some more hot tea and dash his most-hated mixture in his face.
No, I wanted to go to him. His expression was kind, if resigned. His arms opened for me. I walked around the counter and let him embrace me. He pressed his cheek against my forehead and stroked my back.
“You’d hate it,” he said. “You’d hate what I’m into.”
“I didn’t hate it last night.”
“I was careful with you last night.” He tilted my head back and brushed fingers across my temples and through my hair. “We have this rule at the club: never fuck with the vulnerable. We’re not allowed to hook up with women who are emotionally or physically complicated, women we might damage. We can’t even bring them into the space. It’s like an honor system.”
I tugged my chin from his fingers and looked away.
“I figured out why I like you,” he went on. “I figured out why I want you so much. It’s because you’re all on the surface. Your emotions are right there, plain as day, all the time. You don’t give a fuck about saying what you feel and being who you are. You have this open expression, this way of looking at me and at other people. And you dress however you want.”
“What’s wrong with the way I dress?”
His eyes glanced over the blue fur headband I wore. “I love the way you dress. I love the way that headband matches your eyes, but not your clothes.”
“These are my Sunday hangout clothes,” I said, pouting. “They’re not supposed to look hot and put together like your freaking designer suits.”
He held me against his chest, running his big hands up and down my back. “Just shut up for a minute, because I don’t know what to do with you. I don’t know what to do about what happened last night…”
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Contemporary Romance, BDSM Erotica
Yes, especially to those that love BDSM erotica & consensual non-consent themes.
The main focus in this book was on the characters’ relationship & the BDSM erotica.
I have no complaints on the BDSM portion. It’s a good moderate level of BDSM, nothing too extreme IMO. I was hoping it’d be a bit more hardcore, but that’s just me & my reading preference.
For the characters, Fort & Juliet, they do not seem compatible. Maybe even toxic for one another. They have chemistry, but it felt like both of them kept trying to fit square pegs into round holes. I had no idea how these two would get through their differences.
A good read. However, that ending… Well, that’s why it’s a 4 star & not a 5.
(Review is on ARC version received in exchange for an honest review.)
Annabel Joseph is a NYT and USA Today Bestselling BDSM romance author. She writes mainly contemporary romance, although she’s been known to dabble in the medieval and Regency eras. She is known for writing emotionally intense BDSM storylines, and strives to create characters that seem real—even flawed—so readers are better able to relate to them. Annabel also writes non-BDSM romance under the pen name Molly Joseph.
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