Wednesday, November 27, 2013


In REAL and MINE, Brooke introduced you to Remington Tate. Now witness their story through his eyes.

What moves a man as complex as Remington Tate? Let him tell you in his own words. . . .

Underground circuit fighter Remington Tate is a mystery, even to himself. His mind is dark and light, tortured and enlightening. At times his actions and moods are carefully measured; at others, they spin out of control. No woman before Brooke Dumas has ever glimpsed his deepest secrets, his most intense passions. But from the first moment he laid eyes on her, he knew, without a doubt, she would be the realest thing he’s ever had to fight for. Through it all, there’s been one constant: wanting, needing, loving, and protecting Brooke. Now, as the couple takes their overpoweringly sensual bond to the next level, enter the unique mind of Remington Tate, Brooke’s Real.


After reading REAL and MINE, I didn't think it was possible to love REMY more than I already did.  Oh, I was so wrong.  Right out of the gate in Chapter 1 of REMY, Remy captured my heart and I knew this book was going to be a roller coaster of emotions.  To get a first hand look at the tortured soul that Remy "had" broke my heart.  Remy doesn't know what it feels like to be loved.  He wants Brooke to love him for who he is, not what he does.  He wants her to love Remy, no Riptide.  The chemistry between Remy is Brooke has always been evident.  We got to experience how Brooke fell in love with Remy, but to read how Remy felt, was amazing.  Brooke Dumas was the medicine that Remy needed to mend his soul, to make his heart beat, to feel alive.  Brooke was exactly what Remy needed.  Brooke loved Remy unconditionally, flaws and all.  She loved him when his eyes were blue and even when they were black.  Brooke would be the realest thing he's ever had to fight for. 

"When I take you, you'll me mine," I promised her.

"I want you to know me first, and then, I want you to let me know if you still want me to take you."

Remy is a man of few words, but when he speaks he is intense.  Remy feels things for Brooke that he has never felt before, and he has trouble verbally explaining himself, therefore he uses his love of music to express himself.

"I want to play you a thousand different songs so you get a clue of what.. I feel inside me..." ~ Remy

I love how Katy went back and forth with past and present with this book.  We got a glimpse into their world and got to see things that we did not see in Real and Mine. 

This scene touched me when I read it in MINE, but to read it in Remy's POV, touched me in ways that I can't explain.  It broke my heart to know that Remy went through his life without any love any support.  To see the love that Remy and Brooke would have for their child if he or she was born bipolar made my heart swell.  I just can not get enough of Remington Tate !!!!

"If he’s like me, we will support him,” he whispers worriedly in my ear.

“If he’s like me . . . we’ll be there for him.”

“Yes, Remy. We will teach him music. And exercise. And how to take care of this little body. It will be strong and astound him and maybe frustrate him sometimes too. We will teach him to love it. And himself. We will teach him love.”

I absolutely LOVE this series.  I can not get enough of Remington Tate.  Katy Evans, you are a genius !!!!  I loved how we got to see the world through Remy's eyes.  The world is a better place with Remy in it.  To see the love that he has for Brooke and his son, Racer takes my breath away.  He fights hard, and he loves hard. 

"Tell me I'm your Real again, Remington," I plead, trailing my fingers up his jaw as he looks at me. "You're my Real, little firecracker.  You're my everything."

When Remy plays this song for Brooke, I had tears in my eyes.  It was the perfect way for him to express his feelings for her.  Listen to the words...  It is exactly what Brooke is to Remy and I think it was the perfect way to end the book.



“Pete, you think I need a sports rehab specialist?” I ask.
“No, Rem.”
“Why not?”
“You’re an asshole, dude. You hardly let the masseuses massage you for more than twenty minutes.”
“I need one now.” Pushing my iPad over to him, I tap the screen and signal to the name below her image. “I need that one.”
Pete lifts an interested eyebrow. “You do. Do you?”
“I need a sports rehab specialist on my payroll. I want her to tend to me every day. In whatever ways they do.”
He smirks. “They don’t do blow jobs, I’ll tell you that.”
“If I wanted a blow job, I could have had three just now. What I want . . .” Once again, my finger taps over her name. “Is this sports rehab specialist.”
Pete’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline, and he leans back and crosses his arms. “What exactly do you want her for?”
I chomp down the rest of my food, then take a long gulp of water so I can speak. “I want her for me.”
“Rem . . .” he says in warning.
“Offer her a salary she can’t decline.”
Pete answers me with a puzzled silence. He seems taken aback and is trying to make sense of me. He’s looking into my eyes, and I can tell he’s observing whether they are black or blue.
I’m not black. So I wait quietly. He sighs, slowly jots down her name, and speaks cautiously. “All right, Remington, but let me say, this has Bad Idea written all over it.”
Shoving my plate aside, I lean back and cross my arms.
My head betrays me half the time. One day, it tells me I am god. The other, it tells me that I not only rule hell, but I invented it. Does Pete think I give one fuck about what his own head thinks about my idea? I don’t listen to my head anymore. I listen only to my gut.
“I want her watching me fight Saturday,” I remind him as I get up and shove my chair back under the table. And I want her watching from the bet seats in the house.”
“Remington . . .”
“Just do it, Pete,” I say as I cross the living room back to the master.
“I already have the tickets ready to go, dude, but it’s hard enough keeping Diane from knowing of your . . . er, issues . . . It’s going to be even harder to keep it from someone like this sports rehab specialist.”
I prop my shoulder at the threshold of my bedroom and think about that. I lower my voice. “Make her sign a contract, so I have guaranteed time with her. And stabilize me the instant I start losing my shit.”
“Remington, just let me get some other girls—”
“No, Pete. No other girls.”
I shut myself in my room and grab my headphones, then just lie there with my iPod in my hand, staring at it.
What will it be like if I make her mine?
I don’t delude myself into thinking that she will accept me, but what if she does? What if she can understand me? The way I am? The two parts of me? No. Not two parts. Every. Single. Fucking. Part. Of me.
My gut tightens as I remember the way her eyes shone when she looked at me. The way they softened after I kissed her and she looked into my eyes, wanting more of me.
I have never seen a look quite like that before. I have been wanted by thousands of women. Nobody has ever looked at me with such open, frightened longing as her.
She was not frightened of me. She was frightened of “it.” This same thing clenching my gut that has me all tangled up. Every cell in my body is buzzing with awareness. Every inch of my skin is awake. My muscles feel primed like they do when I’m ready to fight. Except I’m not ready to fight now. I’m ready to go get my mate.
God help her.



About Katy Evans
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!

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