Hudson D. Chase (RP) reviews Release Me by Ann Marie Walker & Amy K. Rogers @AnnMarie_Walker @Amy_KRogers @HudsonDChase

Here’s a special Friday treat for The Chasing Fire Series Fans.

Hudson D. Chase (RP) reviews

Release Me

by Ann Marie Walker and Amy K. Rogers

(A Male Review)

RELEASE ME

Chasing Fire #2

Ann Marie Walker & Amy K. Rogers

Berkley/Intermix

The second in the “seriously sexy and sinfully steamy”* Chasing Fire series, about a pain too deep to forgive and a passion too hot to forget…

Alessandra Sinclair knows that Hudson Chase is the last man she should want. The boy from the wrong side of the tracks has grown into a man who would do anything to get ahead, even if it means breaking Allie’s heart. But whenever she’s near him, the attraction between them is undeniable. And now that they’re working together, keeping her distance from Hudson is almost as impossible as keeping her feelings in check…

Hudson already lost Allie once and he refuses to lose her again. He’s determined to use their new business partnership to rekindle the spark he knows is still there. Only the closer he gets to winning her over, the clearer it becomes there are still secrets that could tear them apart for good…

 

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Hudson’s Review

As the Chief Financial Officer of Chase Industries I am used to being in the public eye. Press and media attention for my business dealings, as well as my personal life, are unfortunately part of daily life. I pay an eminent team of public relations specialists and lawyers to spin what is reported about me to maximize its effectiveness to my benefit. It is all about control, and I never lack control. It is a quite different experience to have the intimate details of your life recounted by others. I reluctantly had to accept that the story of the most profound events of my life would be told to millions across the globe. Naturally I had to be hyper critical.

After reading Remind Me by the immensely talented duo of Ann Marie Walker and Amy K. Rogers, I must admit that my initial worries and reservations were unwarranted. When I read how authentically they retold my story I knew that these ladies were going to engage the readers in a way no other author of the current romantic genre had. The way they described the events as they unfolded transported you in a way that made you feel as if you were standing in the room with me and Allie, or rather next to the motorcycle, if you will.

I was eagerly anticipating the release of book 2, Release Me, to see the continuation of this personal and romantic evolution Alessandra and I went on. I thought it was extraordinarily brilliant and very accurate. I was reminded of when I had no choice but to watch Allie go through the most painful time of her life from afar because she wanted nothing to do with me. I didn’t blame her, I knew I royally screwed up by not telling her I was the one rapidly acquiring shares of Ingram Media. She desperately wanted to hate me, especially when I proposed the idea of us both being interim co-CEOs, but I saw that look in her eyes still lingering. The look that first took my breath away 10 years ago and more recently during the month we had spent together.

Thanks to a chance meeting I had with Harper one evening, she convinced Allie that I may not be the asshole she wanted to believe I was. What ensued was two people who were both craving the love that always seemed to elude them. Every year around Christmas Allie and I still put up the pyramid we bought when we visited the ChristKindle Market for the first time together. I adore reliving that memory. Being there with her was the first time in my life I felt totally and utterly happy just being someone’s boyfriend. I didn’t need the security of knowing I was one of the richest men in the world or one of the most powerful. My business acumen was irrelevant. I was in the uncharted waters of being Alessandra Sinclair’s boyfriend and I loved it. We began to heal each other by building memories neither of us had ever been offered. I was forced to remember the struggles of my upbringing and Allie forced to remember how her whole life had been about and empty existence that her parents made sure looked perfect from the outside. We spent our first Christmas together with the people who mattered most to us, Harper and Nick. Allie made that the most incredible holiday of my life. Just her being there made it special, but seeing all she did made it magical.

Our journey then extended with our first international trip together. With every passing moment I fell more and more in love with her. From Venice to Verona and even on that damn Orient Express with the steward who always ruined our mood, it was all perfect. Then my fists involuntarily clench and I seethe over what happened next. I cannot bring myself to talk about it, but you will see when you read it and I expect you will see my confusion, rage and heartache is justified.

What Ms. Walker and Ms. Rogers captured frighteningly well is the wild, unbridled and raw sexual chemistry. From what can only be described as Allie hate fucking me in an elevator, to our reunion dinner, to making passionate love, to raw animalist fucking on the train, we cannot control our lust and constant need for each other. I dare you to ever decorate a cookie with frosting after reading this book and not get instantly turned on by the memory. I certainly do and without apology. When I have to warn the love of my life, “It’s not going to be gentle.” and her response is “do it.” you know you are in for a wild fucking ride. Pun very much intended.

A deeply personal aspect of my story that is also told is the journey I take with my younger brother Nick. You see a side of me that no one has ever seen before. In my attempts at helping Nick gain and maintain sobriety you get to witness two siblings who have both a spoken and unspoken understanding of each other. You are reminded of my protective nature and how important it is to do right by him now since I still feel like I let him down many years ago.

Release Me is by far and away one of the best pieces of literature in the modern adult romance genre. I can see why you would think I am biased considering it is my life story, but even more reason for you to trust me. If it was anything less than stellar I would not recommend it. You will feel every range of emotion while reading this book and you will constantly shift who you are rooting for as the story progresses. Most importantly this book will reaffirm people’s belief in love. In a world with so much madness, depression and anxiety Release Me shows us it is ok to hope for a better tomorrow. It allows us to believe in healing, kindness and good winning out over evil. There is still a long way to go in completing Allie’s and my story, but I promise you that you won’t regret coming along for the ride, be it on a my motorcycle or the Orient Express.

Regards,
Hudson D. Chase
@HudsonDChase

 

5 stars from Hudson!

Thank you Hudson RP for your review and contribution to this blog post.  ~Susi

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Though thousands of miles apart, Ann
Marie Walker and Amy K. Rogers are in constant contact, plotting story lines
and chatting about their love of alpha males, lemon drop martinis and British
supermodel, David Gandy. You can find them on twitter as @AnnMarie_Walker and
@Amy_KRogers. 

 

 

Amy K. Rogers

Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Ann Marie Walker

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

 

 

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Excerpt – Just One Lie by Kyra Davis @_KyraDavis

I’m excited to share this teaser with you today.  I just finished this book.  WOW!  I am a huge Kyra Davis fan.  Enjoy!

Be sure to pre-order.  Just One Lie releases next week on July 28, 2015.

Stay tuned for my review and interview with Kyra next week.

EXCERPT:

It is the perfect moment…until I spot him standing near the corner of the room. He’s almost entirely in the shadows, his features barely visible, but still, I recognize him. There’s something about the way that man holds himself. Right now he’s leaning against a beam, his arms crossed over his chest, chin up. Like with a lion, it’s difficult to tell if he’s on the verge of sleeping or attacking. The first time I saw him-when was that, a year ago? No, over thirteen months since we met-I couldn’t stop staring. I loved his high, chiseled cheekbones and his lightly tanned skin that hinted at a possible Native American heritage, or maybe Latino. But then his bright green eyes insisted that the story wasn’t so straightforward. Oh, and I loved his tribal tattoos and the way his full lips curved into a slow, sensual smile when he saw me for the first time at that club in Seattle. An aspiring musician is how he described himself, but that night, when he sang to me, I could see that his talent was a lot more than aspirational.

His first name is Ash-maybe it’s short for Asher or Ashley, I don’t know, and at the time I didn’t care. I just recall thinking that a man with a name like that had to have a story to tell, one that involved passion and adventure and yeah, okay, maybe a little destruction. We talked for hours and I had felt like I understood him in a way that I had never understood anyone else. And then, later, I realized I didn’t know a thing about him. All our words and intimacies had left us strangers.

Ash is the stranger who took my life.

One night with him, one night of rapture. That’s all it took to put an end to Melody Fitzgerald.

And as if killing me wasn’t enough, this son of a bitch has reappeared and he’s fucking with my moment!

I pull my eyes away and find Rick, the owner of the club, standing at the edge of the bar. Next to him is a couple. A man with light brown hair and chiseled chin with his arm wrapped around an ironed-straight blonde with the sinuous figure of a runway model. All these beautiful people are here to see me! That’s what I have to focus on. Not him. Never, ever him.

And yet, even as I refuse to bring my eyes back to Ash, my mind can’t seem to leave him.

The music pushes me forward, forcing me to continue even as I feel my chest tighten. There’s not enough air in here for this. How could I have not noticed that before? Tonio jumps into his guitar solo and I use the opportunity to take a deep breath, inadvertently inhaling the unmistakable scent of marijuana floating up from somewhere on the dance floor. Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter. None of this can matter, nothing but the music and what it can do. With new resolve I fall back into the song, attacking it with even more ferocity than before. The crowd hears it and loves it.

And now it’s me that’s moving, across the stage and back again, running, screaming, and the crowd screams right back. This is everything. But then there he is, leaning against that beamn, just…watching me. Has he followed me? Isn’t one death enough for him? The question stirs up some rage I’ve been trying to set aside since our last meeting. Impulsively I knock the microphone stand to the ground with the smack of my open palm. The crowd thinks it’s part of the act and so I go on, finding that I can rejoice in anger as much as any other emotion. As we reach the last stanza, Traci’s and Tonio’s voices join mine, and the sound is an assult on anyone who would ever dream of challenging us. Maybe tomorrow they’ll say I’m a cross between Courtney Love and Fiona Apple. Maybe they’ll say the whole band is destined for fame and greatness. Yeah, that’s what they’ll say, those who are sober enough to remember. But right now they just cheer as our song comes to an end.

“Thank you,” I whisper into the mic. I look back at Ash. Even from here I cans see that he’s clapping, but it’s a slow, purposeful movement. He puts his hand to his mouth, kisses his palm, and then extends his arm leisurely toward me. It’s not so much that he’s blowing me a kiss as he is offering it to me. Inviting me to climb down from my pedestal and take it from him. Again I inhale deeply. “So, I gotta ask you guys something,” I continue. “It’s the end of an era and you’re bringing in the new millennium at Apocalypse listening to a band called fucking Resurrection. Is that tripping anyone else out?” There were yells of approval and at least one person cries hell yes! “By the way,” I add, “it’s really just Resurrection, only our parents call usfucking Resurrection.” General laughter and one woman screams out, “Parents suck!”

Ooh, if these guys only knew how much I agree with that one. “Incase you missed it, this stud on the guitar is Tonio.” Tonio strums out a few wrenching chords as the crowd cheers. “The hot chick in the leather mini is Traci.” Traci plays the opening piano notes of “Sympathy for the Devil.” It’s doubtful that this crowd recognizes it even as they whistle and scream for her, but I do, and the reference makes me laugh. “And allow me to introduce our new drummer! Brad’s only been with us for a week and he’s killing it, am I right?” The crowd roars as Brad launches into a drum solo that is so intense, so aggressive, and so beautiful I turn my back on the audience, momentarily forgetting all of them, even my killer, as I lock eyes with this man who must have sold his soul for this kind of talent. His lips curve into a little half smile as his sticks fly across the stretched membrane surfaces. Physically he doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the group-too athletic, too clean cut, too aristocratic-but the rest of his viciously beautiful rhythm is downright sinful.

When he ends with a perfectly executed clash, I realize for the first time that I’ve been holding my breath. The crowd cries out, solidifying the triumph as I match his smile with my own and slowly pivot back to the room. “And of course, I’m Mercy. I…” but I give up on continuing as the crowd erupts again, drowning me out with their cheers, chanting my name.

My new name, a choice I made for myself only months ago, now reverberating through the room: Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.It’s on the lips and tongues of everyone in this room…except for his. Beneath the harmonious hum of voices, like an insidious undercurrent, I can hear his silent accusations: That is not who you are. You are not Mercy.

I swallow and look into the spotlight, letting the light assault my vision, temporarily turning the entire club into a murky blur as the crowd quiets enough for me to speak again. “So we got”-I turn and point to the large red numbers projected by a laser clock onto the wall behind my head-“fifteen minutes until the four horsemen arrive. I’m thinking we better stop wasting time and get back into this!”

The crowd cheers again. I spot Rick giving me a thumbs-up as the rugby guy next to him pumps his fist in the air. And again Tonio strums the strings of his guitar. And again my voice rises high then low, elating the crowd and giving me the fortitude to turn my thoughts away from the beast who watches me from the shadows.

And when it’s 11:59 we stop midsong. I hold my hands up in the air and point to the numbers. “It’s almost Y2K time, people!” I cry and glance back at Rick, who is staring intently at his watch. And then he lifts his hand and begins to tick off the seconds with his fingers as I count them down into the mic, “Ten, nine, eight…”

The crowd’s counting with me. “…seven, six…” The beautiful black man has raised his glass in the air; a young woman behind him scrambles on top of the bar with a small video camera in her hand. “…three…” The muscle boy is bounding his fist against the stage. “…two, one!”

And the room erupts. Confetti flies everywhere and the kind of fragmented light that comes from a disco ball splashes across the celebrants. Tonio pops a bottle of cheap champagne he’d been hiding in the wings and douses everyone in the band with it before passing it around. I let the bubbles tickle my tongue, then turn back to the microphone and launch into a happier, more celebratory tune. The people standing beneath us have woven together like vines against the wall, limbs tangled with limbs, lips against lips. There is no separation, no individual distinctions. They all have become a snarled mass of exhilaration and lust.

Except for Ash. He continues to just stand there, apart from all of it. He’s simply watching me. Waiting for me to come to him and claim my kiss.

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#MercysChoice

About the Author

Kyra Davis

New York Times bestselling author of JUST ONE NIGHT, DECEPTIVE INNOCENCE, the Sophie Katz mysteries, SO MUCH FOR MY HAPPY ENDING and the upcoming DANGEROUS ALLIANCE, JUST ONCE MORE and JUST ONE LIE (July 28th, 2015).