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THE OUTSIDER Cassie Jonsson, a pretty blonde police officer, is given the odd jobs the men don’t want, in this case checking out an old house the locals believe is haunted. The McAllister house is indeed haunted, but not by a ghost. Prophet is a ruggedly handsome former vet. He awakens something primal in Cassie, a boundless desire that blinds her to the dangers of bedding a stranger. |
A sizzling story filled with "why nots?"
This whole book was a different kind of impulsive ride. Cassie, a police officer, stumbles upon a trespassing drifter who changes her life forever.
While I must admit that the premise is very intriguing, I couldn't believe some of the decisions Cassie made! Yes, I understand this is a fictional novel and anything can happen, but maybe something like getting to know the stranger a little more before she engaged in the...well..."activities" she consented to would have made me feel a little better about the book.
Aside from that, Galia's imagery was great and the love scenes were steamy.
Together, Cassie and Prophet made a lot of "hey, why not?" decisions, right up until the Happy For N0w ending. I wouldn't mind knowing what happened with these two!
***I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review***
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ALICE AFTER HOURS In her relationships, Alice likes to be in charge. One eveningshe stumbles across an Internet chat room inhabited by submissives and dominants. Archangel enters and lures Alice into a private conversation, one that throws her beliefs about female empowerment into doubt. In person he is even more enticing, inviting her to his home, but only if she is willing to put her fate in his hands. |
From Alice After Hours
She caught her reflection in the mirrored shelves behind the bar. Hair piled up on top of her head, gray eyes wide and alluring thanks to lash extensions, and a perfectly applied pout of glossy red lipstick.
Okay, she might have overdone it a little. But she had a point to make.
Unless she truly had been taken in, and was wasting her time.
And then she saw him.
Behind, and a little to the right, he was looking directly at her, and suddenly her heart was beating loud enough for everyone in the place to hear, for she’d never imagined for one moment he’d be that attractive.
Locking his reflected gaze, she lifted her glass to her lips once more. It was a gesture of defiance. Of insolence even, and in response he raised an eyebrow and grinned.
And then he was leaning an elbow on the bar and signalling to the bartender.
“Hi,” he said to her, his voice warm and thankfully non-threatening. “Glad you could make it. Drink?”
He was indicating the remnants in her glass.
“Thanks.”
“And it is …?”
“Oh. Bourbon.”
“Neat? I should have guessed.”
“Why?” Alice was still bemused by his appearance. He looked nothing like she’d imagined.
“Because you’re only here to prove a point.”
Gathering their drinks, he led her over to the brick hearth and a couple of comfortable armchairs. After settling in and taking a mouthful of wheat beer, he placed his pint on the low table between them
“I would ask if you’ve travelled far,” he said, “but I doubt you’d tell me.”
“You’re right,” she replied, “I wouldn’t.”
“Well, my journey was relatively short.”
“And no doubt why you chose this place.”
“That, and other reasons.”
“Such as?”
“A very good restaurant around the corner, for one.”
Alice wished his eyes weren’t quite so distracting. And that his features weren’t so strong and defined. Why couldn’t he have been balding and rippled with excess weight, or his skin blotchy, with a nasty sheen of sweat? Instead he was so darned good-looking it was as if the ground had shifted beneath her. She needed to reassert herself.
“I see. So this is your local?”
He shook his head.
“Not particularly. Though I come here enough to be known to some of the staff. What about you? Any favourite haunts around where you live?”
“Not really. A wine bar close to where I work in the city, but other than that, no.”
There was a moment of silence.
He didn’t look like a man who enjoyed dominating women, she thought. Though exactly what such a person should look like she had no idea. What had she expected? An overpowering persona, and conversation littered with barely contained demands and innuendo?
Instead, Archangel was relaxed, and if she were to choose one word, she would describe him as engaging.
“I almost didn’t come,” she said after a moment.
He nodded, as if he expected nothing less.
Okay, she might have overdone it a little. But she had a point to make.
Unless she truly had been taken in, and was wasting her time.
And then she saw him.
Behind, and a little to the right, he was looking directly at her, and suddenly her heart was beating loud enough for everyone in the place to hear, for she’d never imagined for one moment he’d be that attractive.
Locking his reflected gaze, she lifted her glass to her lips once more. It was a gesture of defiance. Of insolence even, and in response he raised an eyebrow and grinned.
And then he was leaning an elbow on the bar and signalling to the bartender.
“Hi,” he said to her, his voice warm and thankfully non-threatening. “Glad you could make it. Drink?”
He was indicating the remnants in her glass.
“Thanks.”
“And it is …?”
“Oh. Bourbon.”
“Neat? I should have guessed.”
“Why?” Alice was still bemused by his appearance. He looked nothing like she’d imagined.
“Because you’re only here to prove a point.”
Gathering their drinks, he led her over to the brick hearth and a couple of comfortable armchairs. After settling in and taking a mouthful of wheat beer, he placed his pint on the low table between them
“I would ask if you’ve travelled far,” he said, “but I doubt you’d tell me.”
“You’re right,” she replied, “I wouldn’t.”
“Well, my journey was relatively short.”
“And no doubt why you chose this place.”
“That, and other reasons.”
“Such as?”
“A very good restaurant around the corner, for one.”
Alice wished his eyes weren’t quite so distracting. And that his features weren’t so strong and defined. Why couldn’t he have been balding and rippled with excess weight, or his skin blotchy, with a nasty sheen of sweat? Instead he was so darned good-looking it was as if the ground had shifted beneath her. She needed to reassert herself.
“I see. So this is your local?”
He shook his head.
“Not particularly. Though I come here enough to be known to some of the staff. What about you? Any favourite haunts around where you live?”
“Not really. A wine bar close to where I work in the city, but other than that, no.”
There was a moment of silence.
He didn’t look like a man who enjoyed dominating women, she thought. Though exactly what such a person should look like she had no idea. What had she expected? An overpowering persona, and conversation littered with barely contained demands and innuendo?
Instead, Archangel was relaxed, and if she were to choose one word, she would describe him as engaging.
“I almost didn’t come,” she said after a moment.
He nodded, as if he expected nothing less.
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