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Saturday, September 7, 2013

Unexpected Angel (Isthmus Alliance #1) By Sloan Johnson


Unexpected Angel (Isthmus Alliance, #1)
 

 
Tasha Skinner finally shed the baggage of a failed marriage. Now, she’s looking forward to a night of margaritas and man-bashing. Tasha’s friends have other plans, including Leather, Lace and liberation.

Dylan Caprese didn’t want to go to Marquee, but he and his friends were on a mission. They took it upon themselves to make sure things didn’t get out of hand when wannabe Doms mixed alcohol with playtime at the monthly Leather and Lace night.

From the moment he set eyes on Tasha, he knew there was something different about her. She wasn’t some bondage babe who thought she knew what it meant to be into BDSM. She was much, much worse; she was innocent and trusting. He can tell she is something precious.

When Tasha’s past threatens to destroy her, Dylan begins to realize that while their paths have never crossed, their lives most definitely have. Will he be able to save her before it’s too late?


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Tasha's friend takes her to a club for a divorce party, & it turns out to be Leather & Lace night, which is a night for the wannabes to get their freak on. So her bff is a bitch, along with her other "friends", for not letting her know what she was getting into. And for making her stick out like a sore thumb (I don't get that phrase. I'm changing that to a flashlight in pitch dark. Or a lighthouse!). She meets Dylan, he saves her from the circling sharks, who can smell the fresh meat. He gets her outta there & they go hang at a diner where she meets his friends. Quickly she feels closer to his friends than she does her own. (Can you really blame her, though? If you're taking me to a BDSM night somewhere, give me a little heads-up! Sure, I may turn you down-I don't like people-but it's my choice, bitches!-Wow, I'm getting a little off track, sorry!)

Anyway, bad things start happening to Tasha. Nasty writing on the wall. No seriously, there's mean writing on her wall. Creepy texts, phantom flower-givers, calls from the bastard ex, wanting her back. Oh yeah, he sucks ass. He may not have hit her, but he's a grabber, a shaker, and a mental abuser. Trifecta of assholishness. Tasha ends up temporarily moving in with Dylan to keep her safe. We meet some of Dylan's friends. They fucking rock, by the way. Way better than her shitty-ass friends. Sorry, I still can't get over her friends. Dylan lets her know that he's into BDSM, but doesn't force her into anything. He kind of breaks her into it slowly & helps her start to work through some of her issues.

I love the pic of Alfie Gordillo on the cover. It was perfect, so I could picture Dylan in my head. (Tasha kept changing in my head. For some reason, she kept shrinking. Or maybe Dylan just makes her seem shorter. Or maybe it's just when she's weak, she seems smaller? Ooohhh...that might be it!) I love that while Tasha was cracked-not broken-she wasn't a doormat. I love Dylan's friends. I love his/their protectiveness of her & each other.

Ok, no more details about the book because I don't want to give away any more than I possibly already did. So, since I already gave you the long of it, now here's the short of it:

I really enjoyed this book.
I read it in a day.
It was hot without being a fuck book (there are a few authors that can pull off a really good fuck book, but not many).
It made me want to beat the shit out of people.
It made me want to shave my husband's head & tell him to work out. (Did I say that out loud? Oops! Don't tell him!)
It kept me intrigued. I had inkling about who-done-it, in which I was bugging Mari about, but that is not a bad thing for me. It makes me feel smart when I'm right.
I can't wait for the next book in this series. Not a cliffhanger, so don't worry.


4.5 stars & the desire to start telling hubs about the fun stuff I read about. Sloan, can you turn this one into a graphic novel? Pretty please? With real pictures, of course. Boys do better with pictures...& girls probably wouldn't mind getting little more intimate with Alfie. Not me, of course, but girls.

-Kim
 

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