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"Marie doesn’t need a complication like Horse. The massive, tattooed, badass biker who shows up at her brother’s house one afternoon doesn’t agree. He wants Marie on his bike and in his bed. Now.
But Marie just left her abusive jerk of an ex-husband and she’s not looking for a new man. Especially one like Horse—she doesn’t know his real name or where he lives, she’s ninety percent certain he’s a criminal and that the “business” he talks with her brother isn’t website design. She needs him out of her life, which would be a snap if he’d just stop giving her mind-blowing orgasms.
Horse is part of the Reapers Motorcycle Club, and when he wants something, he takes it. What he wants is Marie, but she’s not interested in becoming “property of”.
Then her brother steals from the club. Marie can save him by giving Horse what he wants—at home, in public, on his bike… If she’s a very, very good girl, she’ll get lots more of those orgasms only he can offer, and he’ll let her brother live.
Maybe."
He's hung like one! (Yep, we are talking about Horse!)
Let me be honest with you - I would probably never look at this book twice if it weren't for all the status updates and reviews on Goodreads. So, dear Joanna, you should send some love to Blacky, Vishous, Rain , Shelly and Pam.
First thing that intrigued me was the name. There's one thing you have to know - if you call someone "horse" (konj) on my native language, you better be ready for fight because it's like telling someone he's a dumb fuck or something similar. And there were all the gifs of that horse from Tangled. (Now that I've read book, that kind of disturbs me.) Being good little girl, *winks*, I left everything aside and decided that it should be only appropriate to meet this big biker dude.
So I picked up my good, old buddy, you know, that gray thingy called Kindle. First impression after five pages: "Oh, the white trash - excuse for being a big failure." I had some Sookie flashbacks. But then... the bikes. The boys. Pour Some Sugar On Me too, please!
I think I know! Bossy bastard - but you can't help yourself. Oh, I know, honey..."But something about the way this biker swaggered, taking up space and the very air around him with his presence, caught me off guard and knocked me right in the…Well, you know."
What surprised me the most is that this book is actually really well written. So far I didn't have big, shiny moments reading Ellora's Cave novels. Okay, it still is typical when it comes to all steamy scenes, descriptions of his.... hoseness and all the nipples poking through shirts. But I enjoyed every minute of it. Joanna Wylde knows her words. Storyline is interesting and it will keep you on the edge until the very end.
One thing that really made me want to kick something was all that stuff about sweet butts. Seriously? I understand that it would be the ultimate male fantasy (right after fucking virgin who acts like she is not one), but girl who gets off on something like that - what the hell is wrong with you? Again, I have to admit that I could even understand that (just slightly) - the decadence, freedom to act as you wish - but I do not like being humiliated for doing what I want.
Reaper's Property is just first book in Reapers MC series - I can't wait to read other guy's stories.
Until next time, sleep tight and let the kinky guys bite!
xoxo
Your blog, the layout, colors, and reviews are great. :)
ReplyDeleteI also envy the "You Might Also Like" feature. I can never get that code to work.
Great site!
Returning the Love,
Ravishing Romances and The Romantic Editor
Hmmm, sounds interesting. Like you I love SOA but I'm not sure about the 'being humiliated for what you want' part - I would expect more from a novel written by a woman. I'll keep this one in mind and look out for status updates from my friends on this one! Cool review, thanks honey.
ReplyDeleteWomen can write some really kinky and weird plots - you'd be surprised. Did you read Kitty Thomas novels?
ReplyDeleteI'm guessing it's all about our the most twisted and darkest fantasies which we sometimes don't want to admit even to ourselves, because if we do, it's like everything we are is just a facade that helps us to fit in in socially accepted image of a woman or a man.