Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Playing with Fire (Hot in Chicago #2) by Kate Meader


From popular romance author Kate Meader comes the second novel in Hot in Chicago, a brand-new, sizzling series that follows a group of firefighting foster siblings and their blazing hot love interests! As the only female firefighter at Engine Co. 6, Alexandra Dempsey gets it from all sides: the male coworkers who think she can’t do the job, the wives and girlfriends who see her as a threat to their firefighter men, and her overprotective foster brothers who want to shelter their baby sister at all costs. So when she single-handedly saves the life of Eli Cooper, Chicago’s devastatingly handsome mayor, she assumes the respect she’s longed for will finally come her way. But it seems Mr. Mayor has other ideas… Eli Cooper’s mayoral ratings are plummeting, his chances at reelection dead in the water. When a sexy, curvaceous firefighter gives him the kiss of life, she does more than bring him back to the land of the living—she also breathes vitality into his campaign. Riding the wave of their feel-good story might prop up Eli’s flagging political fortunes, but the sizzling attraction between them can go nowhere; he’s her boss, and there are rules that must be obeyed. But you know what they say about rules: they’re made to be broken…


I recently discover the Dempsey family and I am hooked. There has been build up to playing with fire in the previous books in the Hot in Chicago series. Alex is out to prove she is just as good as any male fire fighter while also looking for her one true love. Recent events have placed Alex on the bad side of Mayor Eli Cooper. Eli is the handsome Mayor, Ex-Marine, son of a late prestigious judge. Eli has been tied up the past months dealing with the Dempsey family who can’t seem to keep themselves out of trouble while trying to be re-elected as the Mayor. A near death experience forces Alex and Eli to work together and bring them closer together.
From the first time I read about Alex and Eli I felt the connection. These two were meant for each other they know how to push each other while supporting one another. I love how Kate developed their relationship and we saw it build. Although they hit their rough patches, there was no doubt that they wouldn’t make it through together. The family dynamic and the protective brothers round this story out. I will definitely be recommending this book to others and I am excited for the next one.

This review was prepared by Michele Flaville. An ARC was provided in exchange for an honest review.

BLOG TOUR ~ The Drowning Game by LS Hawker

Genre: Thriller/Suspense
Release Date: September 22, 2015


They said she was armed.
They said she was dangerous.
They were right.
Petty Moshen spent eighteen years of her life as a prisoner in her own home, training with military precision for everything, ready for anything. She can disarm, dismember, and kill—and now, for the first time ever, she is free.
Her paranoid father is dead, his extreme dominance and rules a thing of the past, but his influence remains as strong as ever. When his final will reveals a future more terrible than her captive past, Petty knows she must escape—by whatever means necessary.
But when Petty learns the truth behind her father's madness—and her own family—the reality is worse than anything she could have imagined. On the road and in over her head, Petty's fight for her life has just begun.
Fans of female-powered thrillers will love debut author LS Hawker and her suspenseful tale of a young woman on the run for her future…and from the nightmares of her past.

COME CELEBRATE WITH LS HAWKER AT HER RELEASE PARTY https://www.facebook.com/events/856594864448466/

Purchase links รจ $1.99

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Sirens and the scent of strange men drove Sarx and Tesla into a frenzy of barking and pacing as they tried to keep the intruders off our property without the aid of a fence. Two police cars, a fire truck, and an ambulance were parked on the other side of the dirt road. The huddled cops and firemen kept looking at the house.

Dad’s iPhone rang and went on ringing. I couldn’t make myself answer it. I knew it was the cops outside calling to get me to open the front door, but asking me to allow a group of strangers inside seemed like asking a pig to fly a jet. I had no training or experience to guide me. I longed to get the AK-47 out of the basement gun safe, even though it would be me against a half-dozen trained law men.

“Petty Moshen.” An electric megaphone amplified the man’s voice outside.

The dogs howled at the sound of it, intensifying further the tremor that possessed my entire body. I hadn’t shaken like this since the night Dad left me out on the prairie in a whiteout blizzard to hone my sense of direction.

“Petty, call off the dogs.”

I couldn’t do it.

“I’m going to dial up your father’s cell phone again, and I want you to answer it.”

Closing my eyes, I concentrated, imagining those words coming out of my dad’s mouth, in his voice. The iPhone vibrated. I pretended it was my dad, picked it up, hit the answer button and pressed it to my ear.

“This is Sheriff Bloch,” said the man on the other end of the phone. “We have to come in and talk to you about your dad.”

I cleared my throat again. “I need to do something first,” I said, and thumbed the end button. I headed down to the basement.

Downstairs, I got on the treadmill, cranked up the speed to ten miles an hour and ran for five minutes, flat-out, balls to the wall. This is what Detective Deirdre Walsh, my favorite character on TV’s Offender NYC, always did when emotions overwhelmed her. No one besides me and my dad had ever come into our house before, so I needed to steady myself.  

I jumped off and took the stairs two at a time, breathing hard, sweating, my legs burning, but steadier. I popped a stick of peppermint gum in my mouth. Then I walked straight to the front door the way Detective Walsh would—fearlessly, in charge, all business. I flung the door open and shouted, “Sarx! Tesla! Off! Come!”

They both immediately glanced over their shoulders and came loping toward me. I noticed another vehicle had joined the gauntlet on the other side of the road, a brand-new tricked-out red Dodge Ram 4x4 pickup truck. Randy King, wearing a buff-colored Stetson, plaid shirt, Lee’s, and cowboy boots, leaned against it. All I could see of his face was a black walrus mustache. He was the man my dad had instructed me to call if anything ever happened to him. I’d seen Randy only a couple of times but never actually talked to him until today.

The dogs sat in front of me, panting, worried, whimpering. I reached down and scratched their ears, thankful that Dad had trained them like he had. I straightened and led them to the one-car garage attached to the left side of the house. They sat again as I raised the door and signaled them inside. They did not like this one bit—they whined and jittered—but they obeyed my command to stay. I lowered the door and turned to face the invasion.

As if I’d disabled an invisible force field, all the men came forward at once: the paramedics and firemen carrying their gear boxes, the cops’ hands hovering over their sidearms. I couldn’t look any of them in the eye, but I felt them staring at me as if I were an exotic zoo animal or a serial killer.

The man who had to be the sheriff walked right up to me, and I stepped back palming the blade I keep clipped to my bra at all times. I knew it was unwise to reach into my hoodie, even just to touch the Baby Glock in my shoulder holster.

“Petty?” he said.

“Yes sir,” I said, keeping my eyes on the clump of yellow, poisonous prairie ragwort at my feet.

“I’m Sheriff Bloch. Would you show us in, please?”

“Yes sir,” I said, turning and walking up the front steps. I pushed open the screen and went in, standing aside to let in the phalanx of strange men. My breathing got shallow and the shaking started up. My heart beat so hard I could feel it in my face, and the bump on my left shoulder—scar tissue from a childhood injury—itched like crazy. It always did when I was nervous.

The EMTs came in after the sheriff.

“Where is he?” one of them asked. I pointed behind me to the right, up the stairs. They trooped up there carrying their cases. The house felt too tight, as if there wasn’t enough air for all these people.

Sheriff Bloch and a deputy walked into the living room. Both of them turned, looking around the room, empty except for the grandfather clock in the corner. The old thing had quit working many years before, so it was always three-seventeen in this house.

“Are you moving out?” the deputy asked.

“No,” I said, and then realized why he’d asked. All of our furniture is crowded in the center of each room, away from the windows.

Deputy and sheriff glanced at each other. The deputy walked to one of the front windows and peered out through the bars.

“Is that bulletproof glass?” he asked me.

“Yes sir.”

They glanced at each other again.

“Have anyplace we can sit?” Sheriff Bloch said.

I walked into our TV room, the house’s original dining room, and they followed. I sat on the couch, which gave off dust and a minor-chord spring squeak. I pulled my feet up and hugged my knees.

“This is Deputy Hencke.”

The deputy held out his hand toward me. I didn’t take it, and after a beat he let it drop.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” he said. He had a blond crew cut and the dark blue uniform.

He went to sit on Dad’s recliner, and it happened in slow motion, like watching a knife sink into my stomach with no way to stop it.

“No!” I shouted.

Nobody but Dad had ever sat in that chair. It was one thing to let these people inside the house. It was another to allow them to do whatever they wanted.

He looked around and then at me, his face a mask of confusion. “What? I’m—I was just going to sit—”

“Get a chair out of the kitchen,” Sheriff Bloch said.

The deputy pulled one of the aqua vinyl chairs into the TV room. His hands shook as he tried to write on his little report pad. He must have been as rattled by my outburst as I was.

“Spell your last name for me?”

“M-O-S-H-E-N,” I said.

“Born here?”

“No,” I said. “We’re from Detroit originally.”

His face scrunched and he glanced up.

“How’d you end up here? You got family in the area?”

I shook my head. I didn’t tell him Dad had moved us to Saw Pole, Kansas, because he said he’d always wanted to be a farmer. In Saw Pole, he farmed a sticker patch and raised horse flies but not much else.

“How old are you?”


He lowered his pencil. “Did you go to school in Niobe? I don’t ever remember seeing you.”

“Dad homeschooled me,” I said.

“What time did you discover the—your dad?” The deputy’s scalp grew pinker. He needed to 
grow his hair out some to hide his tell a little better.

“The dogs started barking about two—”

“Two a.m. or p.m.?”

p.m.,” I said. “At approximately two-fifteen p.m. our dogs began barking at the back door. I responded and found no evidence of attempted B and E at either entry point to the domicile. I retrieved my Winchester rifle from the basement gun safe with the intention of walking the perimeter of the property, but the dogs refused to follow. I came to the conclusion that the disturbance was inside the house, and I continued my investigation on the second floor.”

Deputy Hencke’s pencil was frozen in the air, a frown on his face. “Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what?”

“Usually I ask questions and people answer them.”

“I’m telling you what happened.”

“Could you do it in regular English?”

I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.

“Look,” he said. “Just answer the questions.”


“All right. So where was your dad?”

“After breakfast this morning he said he didn’t feel good so he went up to his bedroom to lie down,” I said.

All day I’d expected Dad to call out for something to eat, but he never did. So I didn’t check on him because it was nice not having to cook him lunch or dinner or fetch him beers. I’d kept craning my neck all day to get a view of the stairs, kept waiting for Dad to sneak up on me, catch me watching forbidden TV shows. I turned the volume down so I’d hear if he came down the creaky old stairs.

“So the dogs’ barking is what finally made you go up to his bedroom, huh?”
I nodded.

“Those dogs wanted to tear us all to pieces,” the deputy said, swiping his hand back and forth across the top of his crew cut.

I’d always wanted a little lapdog, one I could cuddle, but Dad favored the big breeds. Sarx was a German shepherd and Tesla a rottweiler.

The deputy bent his head to his pad. “What do you think they were barking about?”

“They smelled it,” I said.

He looked up. “Smelled what?”

“Death. Next I knocked on the decedent’s— I mean, Dad’s—bedroom door to request 
permission to enter.”

“So you went in his room,” the deputy said, his pencil hovering above the paper.

“Once I determined he was unable to answer, I went in his room. He was lying on his stomach, on top of the covers, facing away from me, and—he had shorts on … you know how hot it’s been, and he doesn’t like to turn on the window air conditioner until after Memorial Day—and I looked at his legs and I thought, ‘He’s got some kind of rash. I better bring him the calamine lotion,’ but then I remembered learning about libidity on TV, and—”

“Lividity,” he said.


“It’s lividity, not libidity, when the blood settles to the lowest part of the body.”

“Guess I’ve never seen it written down.”

“So what did you do then?”

“It was then that I …”

I couldn’t finish the sentence. Up until now, the shock of finding Dad’s body and the terror of letting people in the house had blotted out everything else. But now, the reality that Dad was dead came crashing down on me, making my eyes sting. I recognized the feeling from a long time ago. I was going to cry, and I couldn’t decide whether I was sad that Dad was gone or elated that I was finally going to be free. Free to live the normal life I’d always dreamed of.

But I couldn’t cry, not in front of these strangers, couldn’t show weakness. Weakness was dangerous. I thought of Deirdre Walsh again and remembered what she always did when she was in danger of crying. I cleared my throat.

“It was then that I determined that he was deceased. I estimated the time of death, based on the stage of rigor, to be around ten a.m. this morning, so I did not attempt to resuscitate him,” I said, remembering Dad’s cool, waxy dead skin under my hand. “Subsequently I retrieved his cell phone off his nightstand and called Mr. King.”

“Randy King?”

I nodded.

“Why didn’t you call 911?”

“Because Dad told me to call Mr. King if something ever happened to him.”

The deputy stared at me like I’d admitted to murder. Then he looked away and stood.

“I think the coroner is almost done, but he’ll want to talk to you.”

While I waited, I huddled on the couch, thinking about how my life was going to change. I’d have to buy groceries and pay bills and taxes and do all the things Dad had never taught me how to do.

The coroner appeared in the doorway. “Miss Moshen?” He was a large zero-shaped man in a cardigan.


He sat on the kitchen chair the deputy had vacated.

“I need to ask you a couple of questions,” he said.

“Okay,” I said. I was wary. The deputy had been slight and small, and even though he’d had a sidearm, I could have taken him if I’d needed to. I didn’t know about the coroner, he was so heavy and large.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

I began to repeat my account, but the coroner interrupted me. “You’re not testifying at trial,” 
he said. “Just tell me what happened.”

I tried to do as he asked, but I wasn’t sure how to say it so he wouldn’t be annoyed.

“Did your dad complain of chest pains, jaw pain? Did his left arm hurt?”

I shook my head. “Just said he didn’t feel good. Like he had the flu.”

“Did your dad have high cholesterol? High blood pressure?”

“I don’t know.”

“When was the last time he saw a doctor?” the coroner asked.

“He didn’t believe in doctors.”

“Your dad was only fifty-one, so I’ll have to schedule an autopsy, even though it was 
probably a heart attack. We’ll run a toxicology panel, which’ll take about four weeks because 
we have to send it to the lab in Topeka.”

The blood drained from my face. “Toxicology?” I said. “Why?”

“It’s standard procedure,” he said.

“I’m pretty sure my dad wouldn’t want an autopsy.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You can bury him before the panel comes back.”

“No, I mean Dad wouldn’t want someone cutting him up like that.”

“It’s state law.”

“Please,” I said.

His eyes narrowed as they focused on me. Then he stood.

“After the autopsy, where would you like the remains sent?”

“Holt Mortuary in Niobe,” a voice from the living room said.

I rose from the couch to see who’d said it. Randy King stood with his back to the wall, his Stetson low over his eyes.

The coroner glanced at me for confirmation.

“I’m the executor of Mr. Moshen’s will,” Randy said. He raised his head and I saw his eyes, light blue with tiny pupils that seemed to bore clear through to the back of my head.

I shrugged at the coroner.

“Would you like to say goodbye to your father before we transport him to the morgue?” he said.

I nodded and followed him to the stairs, where he stood aside. “After you,” he said.

“No,” I said. “You first.”

Dad had taught me never to go in a door first and never to let anyone walk behind me. The coroner frowned but mounted the stairs.

Upstairs, Dad’s room was the first one on the left. The coroner stood outside the door. He reached out to touch my arm and I took a step backward. He dropped his hand to his side.

“Miss Moshen,” he said in a hushed voice. “Your father looks different from when he was alive. It might be a bit of a shock. No one would blame you if you didn’t—”

I walked into Dad’s room, taking with me everything I knew from all the cop shows I’d watched. But I was not prepared at all for what I saw.

Since he’d died on his stomach, the EMTs had turned Dad onto his back. He was in full rigor mortis, so his upper lip was mashed into his gums and curled into a sneer, exposing his khaki-colored teeth. His hands were spread in front of his face, palms out. Dad’s eyes stared up and to the left and his entire face was grape-pop purple.

What struck me when I first saw him—after I inhaled my gum—was that he appeared to be warding off a demon. I should have waited until the mortician was done with him, because I knew I’d never get that image out of my mind.

I walked out of Dad’s room on unsteady feet, determined not to cry in front of these strangers. The deputy and the sheriff stood outside my bedroom, examining the door to it. 
Both of them looked confused.

“Petty,” Sheriff Bloch said.

I stopped in the hall, feeling even more violated with them so close to my personal items and underwear.


“Is this your bedroom?”

I nodded. 

Sheriff and deputy made eye contact. The coroner paused at the top of the stairs to listen in. This was what my dad had always talked about—the judgment of busybody outsiders, their belief that somehow they needed to have a say in the lives of people they’d never even met and knew nothing about.

The three men seemed to expect me to say something, but I was tired of talking. Since I’d never done much of it, I’d had no idea how exhausting it was.

The deputy said, “Why are there six dead bolts on the outside of your door?”

It was none of his business, but I had nothing to be ashamed of.

“So Dad could lock me in, of course.”


LS HAWKER grew up in suburban Denver, indulging her worrisome obsession with true-crime books, and writing stories about anthropomorphic fruit and juvenile delinquents. She wrote her first novel at 14.
Armed with a B.S. in journalism from the University of Kansas, she had a radio show called “People Are So Stupid,” edited a trade magazine and worked as a traveling Kmart portrait photographer, but never lost her passion for fiction writing.

She’s got a hilarious, supportive husband, two brilliant daughters and a massive music collection. She lives in Colorado but considers Kansas her spiritual homeland. Visit her website at LSHawker.com. 

 Inline image 3


Since he'd died on his stomach, the EMTs had turned Dad onto his back. He was in full rigor mortis, so his upper lip was mashed into his gums and curled into a sneer, exposing his khaki-colored teeth. His hands were spread in front of his face, palms out. Dad's eyes stared up and to the left and his entire face was grape-pop purple.
What struck me when I first saw him—after I inhaled my gum—was that he appeared to be warding off a demon. I should have waited until the mortician was done with him, because I knew I'd never get that image out of my mind.
I walked out of Dad's room on unsteady feet, determined not to cry in front of these strangers. The deputy and the sheriff stood outside my bedroom, examining the door to it. Both of them looked confused.
"Petty," Sheriff Bloch said.                             
I stopped in the hall, feeling even more violated with them so close to my personal items and underwear.
"Is this your bedroom?"
I nodded.
Sheriff and deputy made eye contact. The coroner paused at the top of the stairs to listen in. This was what my dad had always talked about—the judgment of busybody outsiders, their belief that somehow they needed to have a say in the lives of people they'd never even met and knew nothing about.
The three men seemed to expect me to say something, but I was tired of talking. Since I'd never done much of it, I'd had no idea how exhausting it was.
The deputy said, "Why are there six deadbolts on the outside of your door?"
It was none of his business, but I had nothing to be ashamed of.
"So Dad could lock me in, of course."

BLOG TOUR ~ Until Jax by Aurora Rose Reynolds ~ 2 reviews

Meet Jax and Ellie in this instalove, alpha romance!
Until Jax is LIVE!  #Boom
Now Available at the following retailers:

Ellie Anthony isn’t looking for love. She isn’t even looking for a man, but when Jax Mayson insists on keeping her and her daughter safe, she’s left with no choice but to trust him. Now she just hopes she doesn’t get hurt when she falls hard for a guy who’s known for breaking hearts.

Jax Mayson knows that Ellie is his BOOM the moment he sees her. When he finds out she has a daughter, he realizes he wants a family, and he will do whatever is necessary to keep both of his girls safe, even if that means facing the demons from his past.

Excerpt:  Until Jax
“Thank you again for taking me.” Pulling my eyes from the road for a brief moment, I look at Ellie. Her head is resting against the window, her legs pulled up onto the seat, tucked near her ass, and her arms are wrapped tight around them. One thing I’ve noticed about her over the last few hours is she’s always wrapping her arms around herself or tucking her body into a tight ball. It’s like she’s forcing herself to stay together.
“I told you I got you, baby,” I say gently, wanting more than anything to take her hand in mine, but every time I touch her, she freezes up like she’s waiting for me to strike out at her, and I would be lying if I said that didn’t piss me the fuck off. It does; it feels like a slap in the face every time it happens.
“I know,” she whispers, and the tears I hear in her voice cause a sharp pain in my chest.
“This is the turnoff.” Her feet go to the floorboard and her hands to the dash as she sits up taller, moving her face closer to the windshield. We drive up a long dirt driveway with forest and the occasional broken down car on each side. When we make it to the top of the hill, a singlewide trailer comes into view, with junk cars and garbage piled up out front.
As soon as I come to a stop, she opens her door and hops out before I can tell her to keep her little ass in the cab. I don’t even know how I’m going to deal with the range of emotions that have settled over me since seeing her for the first time.
“Fucking Boom,” I mutter, getting out behind her and doubling my steps until I’m able to reach her side, where I wrap my hand around her waist and pull her closer to me. She’s so fucking tiny that the top of her dark head sits right at my chest. So fragile, from her too soft skin to her petite size. And she’s mine.


In Until Jax we get the story of Jax Mayson and Ellie Anthony.  Jax is a Mayson man so when he meets his BOOM he knows it the minute he lays eyes on her.  Ellie has just gone through a horrific experience where she was sold, by her drug addict mother no less, to a sex trafficing organization. Luckily Ellie and July were being held together and together they escaped.  When they escaped Wes and Jax and their crews found them.

Jax comes from a tightnit family who would do anything for you.  Ellie comes from a family that would sell you.  Jax comes from a family well off, Ellie grew up being called trailer trash.  Jax is confident and sure of himself and his feelings, Ellie is insecure and feels unlovable because that is how her mother made her feel.  They are polar opposites but made for each other, that is if Ellie will give him the chance he is seeking.

From the moment he saw Ellie his protective instincts go into high gear.  He enlists his mother in helping him keep Ellie with him, in his home.  Luckily for Jax it is not a hard sell as Ellie realizes this is her chance to provide a better life for Hope.  Lilly has already set up a job at the local salon for her and tells her she can stay at Jax's house as he works away from home a lot and there is plenty of room for her and Hope to live until she is on her own two feet and settled in the area.  While Ellie is nervous to live with Jax because of the way he makes her feel and everything she has just been through she knows she needs to do this for her and Hope.  They need this new start and if this is how it is going to happen she is not going to let her pride get in the way.

Everything she sees in the Mayson family is what she missed out and dreamed of as a child.  Her father loved her and her brother, he was a great man and he kept their family together.  While he may not have been rich they never needed for anything and they knew they were loved.   Unfortunately when Ellie was 7 her father was killed in a coal mining accident at work, her mother was already addicted to pain medicine so after her father died things got a lot worse.  Her and her brother grew up super close and made the best of what they had but at 19 Ellie got a call that her brother and his fiance were killed in a car accident leaving Ellie alone in the world, except she had baby Hope.

Ellie lives for her littler girl, she means everything to her.  When we first meet Ellie in the beginning of the book all she wants to do is get back to her baby and get her away from her dysfunctional family.  Jax promises her he will make that happen, once she is no longer in danger of dehydration he takes her right to get her daughter.  He sees how she has had to live and meets her Aunt.  He vows right away she will never be back, he will takes care of the two of them, forever.

Hope is smart, cute and funny, she loves Jax and his family right off of the bat and she warms her way into their hearts the minute she looks at them.  Jax never realized he may want to be a father but when he meets Hope he knows they were meant to be brought to him so he could protect and love them.  He sets out on proving to Ellie how good they would be.  He gives her space and time to warm up to the thought of them together.  In the end he is a Mayson man and his dad tells him the Mayson Man Motto, back them into a corner and force them to face your relationship, go at her full force and it will work out because if she is your boom you will always be with her.  Jax has had enough and he puts his plans into place to win her over.

In true form to the swoonworth Mayson's we have some real life bitchy ex's and Melissa was no different.  I crack up reading these characters because you know that there are some chicks who really act this way.  They are so full of themselves that they think they have a man, the same man that tells them in 20 different ways they don't have them and there is nothing between them.  I loved Ellie and how she handled herself, even when she was insecure and unsure of her relationship with Jax she always defended herself.  She was never a doormat.  I loved the mother she was, Hope always came first.  Every decision she made was about her and Hope.

Jax is everything you would want in a man.  He loves with his whole heart, he protects with everything he has, he is loyal to all he loves, he is a wonderful daddy Ax, he is a good son, brother and cousin, he is hard working and he will stop at nothing to get the woman who holds his heart.

I have been WAITING for this book, we were teased with Jax meeting Ellie in Until July and there was a ton of promise with these two as with all of the Until Series in my humble opinion.  While I believe my expectations are high in a book, especially and author I have grown to love in Aurora.  I did feel there was a lull in the book, we can't have action all of the time but there was a section where you were I was just waiting for something to happen.  However, 100% MUST read and a solid 4.5 stars.  I will one click anything Aurora writes, she is extremely talented with the alpha male, strong heroine storybook romance.

This review was prepared by Heather McLaughlin. An ARC was received in exchange for an HONEST review.


Aurora Rose Reynolds has done it again. I was pulled into the book within the first page and did not want to put it down. I absolutely love this family and was so happy that Aurora decided to continue with the children. Jax is this big strong man with the biggest heart ever who found his “BOOM”. After rescuing Ellie he knew he needed to keep her around and enlisted his mom to help with that. I love that once this family finds their “BOOM” they will do anything and everything not to lose it. Ellie has been through a lot in her life and has come out stronger than most would. She was determined to make a better life for her and her little girl Hope. I love how they became a family almost immediately and that Hope had Jax wrapped around her fingers.

This has definitely become one of my favorite books. The only thing I would have liked to have seen is some kind of closure with Ellie and her Mom. I feel like that was the only thing missing from the book. Regardless of that I would still recommend this book to everyone.

This review was prepared by Michele Flaville. An ARC was received in exchange for an HONEST review.

Meet Wes & July in Until July! 
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1CFrgmZ

About the Author:

Aurora Rose Reynolds is a navy brat who's husband served in the United States Navy. She has lived all over the country but now resides in New York City with her Husband and pet fish. She's married to an alpha male that loves her as much as the men in her books love their women. He gives her over the top inspiration everyday. In her free time she reads, writes and enjoys going to the movies with her husband and cookie. She also enjoys taking mini weekend vacations to nowhere, or spends time at home with friends and family. Last but not least she appreciates everyday and admires it's beauty.

Goodreads:  http://bit.ly/1pzLVIO