Why did I pick up this book? It's book two of the Deanna Madden series (there are currently three books in the series).
I didn't think I liked the first one enough to warrant reading the second one, but the GoodReads reviews were consistently "This one is better!" so I went with it. That, and, other than the sex part, I like the Madden character.
This one still doesn't have any suspense. We know all the actions of all the characters. It does, as the first one, have a fast moving plot. There's an attempt at suspense, but it lasts like 4 pages, so it wasn't a great success. Again, a fast moving plot.
Nothing to write home about, nothing to rave about. If you're looking for a mindless distraction, this'll do.
Never had the hot, wet sensation, vibrating suction, the delicate play of a talented tongue against pleasure-packed bundles of nerves.
I am like my clients—on the edge of danger, playing with the fire of fantasy and hoping I don’t slip. Hoping I don’t fall over that dangerous edge and act out on my desires.
VILLAINS COME IN all shapes and forms.
I bet he’s a good hugger. A good, responsible hugger who makes you feel like he is taking some of your worry with the embrace.
A lot about human nature, how caged humans, despite our upbringing, drug habits, or skin color, are all the same. We want to fuck, to eat, to live. We want freedom, we enjoy control, we want to kill.
She stands, a twinge of jealousy moving through her. Realizing, as she stares into his eyes, that he, by kicking her out, by closing the laptop, is protecting Deanna more than her.
He doesn’t know why he loves her. But does anyone know why they love? We don’t love people for their traits—traits are common. We love them for their unique ability to tug at our soul, to connect to us in a way that no other person can. Love
I am being hunted. And, in the face of that danger, am releasing all constraints. War has no room for indecision.
We don’t love people for their traits — traits are common. We love them for their unique ability to tug at our soul, to connect to us in a way that no other person can. Love is unexplainable, unpredictable, and often unreasonable. It doesn’t make sense, and doesn’t care to explain to us its thought process. He hears is unexplainable, unpredictable, and often unreasonable. It doesn’t make sense, and doesn’t care to explain to us its thought process.
His eyes squint a bit as he focuses on me. “Just because we are in love doesn’t mean you have to share all your secrets.”
“You might not love me if you knew all of them.” I smile sadly.
He pulls at my hand, tugs my mouth to his. “I will always love you,” he whispers.