Carries Book Reviews

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Wicked Knight 2
Diana A. Hicks
(Knight Duet, #2)
Publication date: November 7th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Maxim Belov is Papa’s favorite son.

Like his father, Maxim is ruthless and always gets what he wants. He wants me.

He doesn’t even care that our families are mortal enemies,

or that I’ve never seen his face.

Because of him, I’m forced into a marriage with a stranger.

On our wedding night, when I finally come face to face with my worst enemy, my entire life is turned upside down.

Authors Note: Wicked Knight is book two in the Knight Duet, set in The Society World. And it’s best enjoyed if you read book one first.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

Exclusive First Look!

“You’re bleeding, Maxim. Let me look.” Anatoli gestured for Maxim to sit.

Maxim raised his hand and stopped him in his tracks. “No. Let my wife tend to my wounds.”

“Ooo-kay.” Anatoli looked as confused as I was.

“Leave us.” Maxim braced his good arm on his knees and released a breath.

“Everything you need is in the bathroom,” Anatoli said to me then turned to leave. He paused when he spotted the unhinged door. “I’ll get someone to fix that.”

“Thanks.” I smiled at him.

The wife in me wanted to tell my husband to go to hell. But the doctor in me was already thinking of all the things that could go wrong if I didn’t check on Maxim. He was tired because his body was working overtime, trying to heal itself. But also, because he just cracked open a heavy wooden door with his foot.

Cursing under my breath, I strode to the bathroom and got all the essentials to wash out his wounds. When I returned, Maxim hadn’t moved an inch.

“We should rinse your wounds twice a day, then cover them. They’ll heal faster that way.” I approached him tentatively, the way one would do with a wild animal because that was exactly

what he was. My gaze swept from the splint and stained gauze to the blood seeping through his white dress shirt in two different places. “I need to take a look first.”

He nodded. With a sigh, he undid all the buttons, then sat back to let me help him with it. I pulled the fabric up then pushed it over his shoulders. The soft hair on his chest bristled the skin on my arms and chest. To my surprise, the gentle exchange eased my nerves.

“Getting out of bed today was a bad idea.” I picked at the gauze and removed it.

“I had things to attend to.”

“Right. You had that illegal wedding to go to.” I shot back.

“Yes.” He chuckled. “I did.”

“This shouldn’t hurt. It’s just water.” I squeezed the squirt bottle and rinsed his entire shoulder.

Even if fear wasn’t a big part of the equation anymore, I still couldn’t get myself to look at him. Not even when he cocked his head to look at me. His hot breath left a warm trail that ran from my cheek all the way down to my hip. He gripped his thigh with long fingers as his inspection of me continued.

“Little late for that, don’t you think?” I sneered.

“What’s that?”

“Buyer’s remorse.”

“I didn’t pay for you.” He took a lock of my hair. “Your hair is shorter.”

“I cut it after…” I’d cut it shortly after Luca left, but Maxim didn’t need to know that. I swallowed and bit my tongue for offering him intimate details of my life. “You were spying on me.”

“Not for long.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Your scent reminds me of something. But I can’t remember what?”

“Probably your dungeon. I’ve showered six times since I left and I can’t seem to scrub the stench off me.” I shuffled back. “I need you to get up to get the other two sutures.”

Slowly, as if he were trying not to scream in pain, he rose to his feet. When I stepped into his circle, he bent down to whisper in my ear, “You smell fine to me.”

The jittery energy intensified and magnified my senses. I could feel the air between us shifting, his breath on my neck, and the sandalwood scent on his skin. Though I kept my head down, I could feel his eyes on me, regarding me with curiosity. He was the wounded one. But he watched me so intently, it reminded me of a predator spying on his prey.

“Stop messing with your splint. Or your nose will not heal properly.” I pointed at the blood fingerprints on it.

“It itches.” He grunted. “How long before I can take it off.”

“How long has it been. It usually takes about two weeks.” I squirted his side.

He flinched, reaching for my wrist. I froze, keeping my gaze on the stitches and the blood running down his side. And because my brain hates me, I thought of our impending wedding night. Though by now, I was sure that would not happen today. The man could barely move without wincing. As formidable as he was, and though he acted like a beast, he was still human.

His fingers slid up my arm. “This one hurts the most.”

“I bet. There was a lot of debris to clear out. I had to dig deep.” I freed my hand. “It is healing fine. I can give you something for the pain.”

“Fuck.” He made to touch his wound then stuffed his hand in the pocket of his trousers. “I don’t know if I should risk taking more drugs from you. Will you poison me this time?”

In his defense, I had considered the option. “Not tonight.”

He scoffed. “If Anatoli hadn’t come to his senses, I’d still be unconscious.”

So Anatoli was the one who foiled our plans. Coward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shrugged. “Maybe you too will come to your senses soon.”

I strode to the bathroom and rummaged through the medical kit Anatoli had left for me. I went through a bunch of bottles until I found a strong pain killer. Something to knock Maxim out for the night. And every night after that, until I found a way out of this place.

“For the pain.” I offered him two pills and a glass of water.

“Am I so ugly, you can’t even look at me?” He took the meds and knocked them back. “My senses are fine, by the way.”

“Right. Because kidnapping a woman for revenge is the epitome of mental health.” I turned to leave.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me toward him. “You have no idea what your family is capable of.”

“You’re wrong. I know exactly what they can do.” I jerked to free myself, but he held me tighter. I was no match for his strength. I exhaled. “One day my love will find me. He will make sure you pay.”

“Your love?” He let out a dark chuckle.

“Yes.” I panted a breath. “And when he does, he will chop you up and feed you to your dogs.”

“He sounds violent.”

Luca was an erudite, a distinguished professor despite all my efforts to corrupt him. He wasn’t a brute like Maxim, punching his way through doors. But regardless of their extreme opposites, Luca would find a way to save me. I knew he would. I just had to hang on a little longer.

“He will come for me. You can be sure of that.”

“The only thing I can be sure of, princess, is that it’s time for bed. And since Prince Charming isn’t here, I guess I would have to do.”

Don’t Forget to enter the Goodreads Giveaway for a chance to win an Early copy of Wicked Knight, Book #2: https://geni.us/WickedKnightBook2

 

Author Bio:

Diana A. Hicks is an award-winning author of steamy romantic suspense and science-fiction romance.

When Diana is not writing, she enjoys hot yoga, kickboxing, traveling, and indulging in the simple joys of life like wine and chocolate. She lives in Atlanta and loves spending time with her two children and husband. Connect with Diana on social media to stay up to date on her latest releases.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook Page / Facebook Group / Twitter / Instagram / TikTok / Amazon / Bookbub

 

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**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**

Title: The Girl in the Vault

Author: Michael Ledwidge

Publisher: Hanover Square Press

Publication Date: November 7, 2023

Page Count: 315

About the book:

They stole her dream. Now getting it back will take the perfect crime.

It’s summer in New York City and Faye Walker has it all. She’s not only scored one of the most highly coveted internships in all of Wall Street, she’s also just met the head-over-heels love of her life. With her natural-born gift for numbers and a work ethic that knows no bounds, Faye is a shoo-in for a full-time position at the illustrious merchant bank Greene Brothers Hale. Then, just as she awaits her offer and her signing bonus, a treacherous betrayal arrives to shatter Faye’s plans and her young life.

But what her high finance masters-of-the-universe bosses don’t know is that Faye isn’t like any of the other interns. Having made her way past her humble small-town beginnings, for Faye, going back is not an option. That’s why Faye now has a new plan. One that involves Swiss watch timing, nerves of steel and ten million dollars in cold hard Wall Street cash.

“The Girl in the Vault is Ledwidge’s best.“—James Patterson

Find this book online:

Goodreads  /  Amazon  /  BookShop.org  / HarperCollins / Barnes & Noble

Excerpt:

PART ONE: SUMMER IN THE CITY

In New York City near the southwest corner of 63rd Street and Madison Avenue, there is a restaurant called Stella’s and when everything started, I was sitting in one of its coveted lime-green velvet booths.

It was coming on ten at night, and I was drinking a lemongrass daiquiri. In all my years on the planet up to that point, I’d never touched lemongrass or daiquiris. Until that summer. That summer it seemed like it’s all I drank.

“Should I get you ladies started on a new one?” asked our waiter.

Our waiter was named Tommy, and he was a fortysomething Italian guy with slicked back hair who had the vaguely menacing solemn look of a Sopranos extra. But intimidating demeanor aside, he was always exceptionally nice to us. And when I say us, I mean my work cubicle mate, Priscilla Hutton, who was sitting across from me.

Priscilla and Tommy were actually old pals as she had been partying here at Stella’s since her Birch Wathen Lenox private high school days.

I did some high school partying myself back in my small town in Kentucky. Just never at a place that had nine-thousand-dollar bottles of champagne on the menu and a VIP room described in New York magazine as “Hollywood East.”

“The answer to that is yes, Tommy,” Priscilla said. “My friend and I need two fresh jolts stat. If that’s okay with you, Faye.”

Sometimes I wonder about that question. I wonder about what would have happened if I’d gone back to my apartment instead of accepting.

Or even more importantly, about what wouldn’t have.

“I’m game if you are,” I said, smiling.

The second drink order surprised me. We usually had only one polite drink at the end of the week here, down the street from our job, and then parted ways.

It was part of our unspoken deal. I hooked up Priscilla by handling all of our incredibly high-pressure work stuff, and Priscilla hooked me up by letting me hang out with her a little.

Even though I was totally carrying her, it was a good deal on both ends because Priscilla was gorgeous and rich and knew everyone in New York. She’d actually been in society pages like Avenue magazine ever since high school, each time tan and perfect in an effortlessly stylish outfit that she just threw on after a day spent surfing or skiing or at the spa.

Priscilla was also one of those people who had that voice, that eastern establishment rich person voice, that some call Transatlantic or Boston Brahmin or Locust Valley lockjaw. Not a ton of it, not a pretentious amount, just a sophisticated hint, an elegant tinge, just enough.

It made her sound like a young Lauren Bacall or Bette Davis or someone. I loved just listening to her. It made you feel a little special just to hear her confide in you, as if only for a few moments, you were in the privileged people club, too.

I really didn’t even know why Priscilla had applied for, let alone accepted, our summer internship. It was extremely hard work, and she was kind of a ditz, so why not just take the Instagram influencer route? I often wondered.

I think it had something to do with her father’s business, some defense contractor aerospace company in Connecticut that made airplane parts. Maybe she needed some finance experience to become an executive there? Not that she had told me any of this, but I did have internet access.

She even pretended to be my friend. She shared fashion advice with me, which was a sorely needed lesson. And she also told me all these incredible stories about her days in prep school and Yale and Palm Beach and the Hamptons.

At least at the office. When she was in the mood.

“But another?” I said as Tommy left. “That’s okay, Priscilla. I know you have things to do. I should be going.”

“No, not yet. I owe you big time, Kemosabe. If you hadn’t remembered to recheck the Westland account for me before it went to the treasury team, that Aiken would have dragged me up the stairs of the boiler room by the scruff of my neck.”

It was true. She had screwed up big time. One of our biggest hedge fund clients wanted $130 million wired into their Cayman account, but Priscilla had boneheadedly put in the account numbers of a completely different fund instead. Getting a number wrong here and there wasn’t a problem. Sending money into another fund’s account was. If it had gone through, the money could have instantly disappeared without a trace with no way to unwind it, and our client could have been out $130 million.

“Oh, that,” I said. “Don’t mention it. Anytime. I was looking for something to do anyway.”

That’s when Priscilla looked at me, and we both completely lost it.

Oh, we laughed then all right. Practically until the lemongrass came from our nostrils.

Looking for something to do, I thought, shaking my aching head.

That was a phrase I used way back in the normal life I led before I accepted the summer internship at the venerated Wall Street private investment bank, Greene Brothers Hale, nearly three months before.

Our musty-smelling windowless basement office a few blocks down Madison Avenue really did look like a boiler room or maybe something out of a Dickens poorhouse. Only with computers and phones on our cheap desks instead of dusty ledger books.

And out of these electronic torture devices, all day—for pretty much twelve hours straight from eighty-seven different pissed-off, stressed-out directions at once—came numbers.

The stress and anger directed our way was due to the fact that the numbers represented money. Profoundly massive amounts of money from hedge funds or institutional investors or just really, really rich people. This money either needed to be placed into our bank’s fat cat VIP client accounts or taken out of them and sent other places, places like the Cayman Islands or Switzerland.

You’d think this given task was simple enough like we were mere bank tellers, just moving around much larger sums.

But you would be wrong.

Each incoming or outgoing bank transfer had to be placed in its proper slot. Each one processed through a verification process wrapped in an amount of red tape to make your eyes bleed. Emails with these numbers had to go to the proper people for due diligence verifications. All in the proper order. Yesterday. Or else.

It was the volume of the orders. It was staggering. The air traffic controllers out at Kennedy airport had less to juggle.

Or maybe it was the unhinged wrath of the psychopathic traders and other finance people on the upper floors of our building who kept calling down to see if the transfers had cleared.

Where the hell was the money? they wanted to know. What the hell was wrong with us? Did they actually have to f-ing come down there?

Every morning when I sat down and looked at my newly filled inbox of waiting orders, I thought about the Greek hero, Sisyphus, cursed to eternally roll his rock up that hill.

In envy.

Was he a summer Wall Street intern, too? I would wonder.

And did I mention all of this labor and misery was being extracted from me gratis?

That was the kicker. Since it was an unpaid internship, we were only doing it for the possibility of maybe getting a full-time entry level job as a junior investment analyst.

My skin was being flayed for free.

As I sat there that Friday, attempting to cool my smoking brain with rum and lemongrass syrup, I couldn’t help feeling like I’d been duped.

Because I thought I was going to be a swashbuckling Wall Street pirate.

Instead, I’d been shanghaied and thrown into the slave galley to row.

Excerpted from The Girl in the Vault. Copyright © 2023 by Michael Ledwidge. Published by Hanover Square Press, an imprint of HarperCollins.

About the author:

MICHAEL LEDWIDGE is the writer of seventeen novels, the last dozen being New York Times bestsellers cowritten with one of the world’s bestselling authors, James Patterson. With twenty million copies in print, their Michael Bennett series is the highest-selling New York City detective series of all time. One of their novels, Zoo, became a three-season CBS television series. He lives in Connecticut.

Website  / Facebook  / Instagram  / Goodreads

**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**

Moonflower: Vampires of Los Angeles
Heather Ewen-Foster
Publication date: November 7th 2023
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

Sonia, a 250-year-old Australian vampire, thought she had found peace in the quiet neighborhood of Whitley Heights, Hollywood. But when a mysterious creature starts slaughtering young vampires, Sonia is thrust into a deadly game of cat and mouse.

With her friend Sunny targeted by an ancient monster, Sonia must uncover the truth behind these brutal attacks. Desperate to save her friend and end the bloodshed, Sonia navigates the treacherous politics of the vampire world. Along the way, she finds herself torn between her irresistible attraction to Alex, the enigmatic human journalist helping in her investigation, and her deep bond with sexy and charismatic Sunny, Alpha Vampire extraordinaire.

As the sinister plot unravels, Sonia’s race against time becomes a pulse-pounding battle against an impossibly powerful foe. Will she uncover the truth before more lives are lost? And what sacrifices will she have to make to protect those she loves?

Moon Flower is a spellbinding urban fantasy that will leave you breathless. Heather Ewen-Foster’s suspenseful tale immerses you in a world of danger, romance, and mythical creatures. Get ready for an electrifying adventure that will keep you turning the pages late into the night.

Amazon

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EXCERPT:

Terror. Pain. Then darkness.

This is how it starts.

The only link to the world around you is the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your hearing seems to be the only sense still functioning, while sight, smell, touch, and taste seem oddly suspended.

You vaguely realize something is wrong with that pounding. You become aware that your pulse is slowing, beat by beat, which rapidly absorbs all of your attention.

Soon, far sooner than should be possible, you have reached that critical point where that little muscle—the strongest in the human body—struggles to keep you from crossing the threshold dividing the world of life from what awaits you at death.

But something else is terribly wrong: there is no warm light to dissolve into, there are no familiar faces waiting to usher you into paradise. There is only darkness and a failing heart that tries to pump what is no longer there. The terror within you surges as you realize that, should your heart fail, this great, dark oblivion of nothingness will become permanent. And all that is you—your very essence of self—will be gone.

And your heart, most assuredly, is failing.

It is at this crucial moment, when time seems to stand still, that you are offered a choice—a choice that is really no choice at all since the basic animal instinct to stay alive now dominates higher forms of reason.

You do not hesitate. You embrace the offer with a ferocity that speaks to the predatory nature once so close to the surface in humanity, though long since buried by generations of social, sedentary living and the trappings of “civilization.”

Then comes the oblivion, but not the one you expected—not the one which serves as the fate of everyone else. You are in limbo, with no beginning and no ending. No up and no down. But your sense of self is mercifully intact. You are still you.

Here, in this mental womb, you remain for days until— if you are one of the lucky ones—you open your eyes for the first time to a world utterly transformed. And, as you lay there staring into the brilliant colors of the night, you slowly realize that nothing will ever be the same.

This, dear readers, is what we call The Birth. My name is Sonia.

I am Vampire.

 

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**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**

The Billionaire’s Devotion
Amélie S. Duncan
(The Kept Trilogy, #3)
Publication date: November 5th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

The handsome billionaire Paul Crane can’t seem to stay away from me, nor can he stay with me.

Here I am, finally starting my amazing fashion design internship at a luxury, fashion house in Paris, my lifelong dream coming true… yet I’m still at a loss.

Apparently, escaping the USA press and their never-ending interest in the hot older billionaire and the certain young design student — hello, it’s me! — isn’t enough to give me some relief.

And it’s not just that the internship is complicated or the competition is insane. I’ve caught the attention of top designer Hayden, who sees me as a muse.

But my heart wants Paul, even though he’s still not opened his heart to me. He hasn’t returned, but he’s never really far away.

It’s almost as if he’s decided to keep rescuing me from everything, even from himself.

I don’t want to be rescued.

I don’t want a fairy tale where Prince Charming keeps saving the damsel in distress.

I want it to be real.

But can we make it real — does our love and everything it entails truly have a chance, or will this be the moment when the dream finally ends?

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

“Want to hear a joke about construction—?”

“You’re still working on it,” I pointed at Dad and said the punchline before he could.

“You’ve caught onto me, kid.”

We laughed together far longer than the joke deserved. Then Dad’s expression turned serious. “It’s good to see you happy, princess.” My happiness surprised me, too. I’d thought my shattered heart wouldn’t ever know joy again. But Paul surprised me.

My love for Paul Crane was tangled in my soul. Rooted. Boundless. Even though it hurt that he wasn’t here with me now, he left me with his love.

His confession came as a light in my darkest hour. He was broken by our loss and exposed, and so was I. We were vulnerable. Powerless. No walls could rise in that despair. And he let me in and told me those words I so longed to hear from him.

 

Author Bio:

Amelie S. Duncan writes steamy, sexy stories. Her inspiration comes from many sources including her life experiences and travels. She lives on the West Coast of the United States with her husband.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Amazon

 

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The Beginning
Mystee Ryann
(Felon Love Series, #1)
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Sometimes your past, no matter how far you think you’ve come from it, can destroy your future and the future of the one you love. Norah was a workaholic and had been alone for 8 years when she was fixed up with her friend’s son. Little did she know, soon she’d fall for the quick-tempered bad boy with a prison history. Stress, heartbreak, turmoil, loyalty, love, guilt, corruption, and more lead this story through ups and downs – good girl to ruined reputation, drugs, alcohol, sex, lies —

Author Bio:

After 14 years of book and product reviews, I have finally got my own books in the works.

Website / Goodreads / TikTok / Instagram

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