Since the author Lissa Matthews writes books which I find incredibly erotic, I knew by the blurb and excerpt this one would be anther stunning addition to my bookshelf. I remember a month ago reading one of her books and.. how this month.. how this month is what it is.. I was happy that her book came out don't get me wrong. And when an author can speak to your soul when it doesn't want to be spoken to then it's quite something. It's a Lissa Matthews book so I expected nothing less and inspiring is an understatement for her work.
I'm cynical and I don't believe in love and I don't believe in people saying anything anymore but I LOVE this book. The reason I love Lissa's books so much; the heroes and heroines, they're such a big part of me. Somehow, they just are, like I am them in some way. Books like this speak more to me than fairytales with traditional looks and acts and gestures, when things fuck with you then you don't go after tradition even more so, you go after honesty and no bullshit and Lissa's books are all about that as well as the raw erotic words and need as well as gorgeous humanity and tenderness and a brilliant story..such s simple storyline, a character evolving, it speaks just as loudly as a book with about a women and her cop. (God, cops...fuck).
This isn't a review, this post is too self involved but when inside you're sad and you read something, keep it on your bookshelf, look back on it when you start smiling again, it's not not a funny joke or a momentary noise, when you read this you will smile because you're really smiling. Carnal Ecstasy is a treasure.
Next time readers because, I wanted to devote one post to this book that I LOVE, I will blog about The Vampire's Bride by Amarinda Jones..gosh that made my evening so damned erotic yesterday. And I will keep you updated about a video I intend to make.
Have a good weekend honeys and I will leave you with sparks, an excerpt followed by the blurb followed by another excerpt from Carnal Ecstasy,
"He realized then it was a good thing he wasn’t drinking anything right at that moment because he’d have spewed it everywhere. She’d said some very serious stuff he wanted to touch on, tell her it was okay to want her own life, that he’d been there in the exact position she found herself in. He wanted to touch on all that, but his male brain only settled on two things. Porn and women. “Porn? You look at porn?”
“Yes. I love it. The women are so beautiful and the men are… Should I not like it? I mean, I know what I was told growing up, but honestly, I can’t seem to help it.”
“Sure you should like it. There’s nothing wrong with it. I was just surprised is all. We’ll talk about the girl kissing later.” Porn. His downy innocent liked porn. Maybe he should pull out some of his vintage skin mags. “What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know. I have a specialty in event planning. Maybe I can find a job at a hotel or in a restaurant. I haven’t thought that far ahead. Guess that seems irresponsible.”
“I understand. I was only curious.”
She took another sip of her coffee then another. Whipped cream collected on her upper lip and it took every ounce of his self-control not to lean forward and lick it off.
“You didn’t have sex with me.”
He grinned at the way she just threw the statement out there. “Not in the traditional way, no.”
“Do you not want to?”
Oh yeah, he wanted to. Needed to. And would. Soon. After breakfast. She’d be lucky if they made it back upstairs to his bed. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d survive coffee before laying her out on the bar and climbing on top of her. “Yes, I do. I just wanted to play with you some first. You have a body made for sex, for lust, for a little kinkiness.”
“Why did you use the bottle?”
“Why did you like it so much?”
Excerpt "The minute Carrie meets tattooed, bad-boy bartender Dallon, her decision is made. He’s the one, her ticket to freedom and a new, independent life. She’s tired of dictates and zero dates and following the path laid out before her by her well-meaning-but-completely-out-of touch-with-her-reality religious parents.
Dallon sees the buttoned-up, full-of-curves woman outside the grocery store and feels the flames of hell licking at his heels. When she asks him for directions to the large, nearby university where she’s starting work, his gut-twisting lust for her doesn’t diminish, but those flames start to singe his tough-as-nails hide.
With Dallon’s promise of not sleeping with anyone associated with the university his father is the dean of about to go up in smoke, Carrie takes the first exit off the Heavenly Highway straight onto Sin Street. She wants Dallon to teach her all the things a good girl should never know, and she won’t take Hell no for an answer.
Reader Advisory: What Dallon does with a beer bottle may be illegal in forty-eight out of fifty states…and at least two territories."
Available from Ellora's Cave.
"Dallon wiped down the bar for what seemed the hundredth time. Damn. Was the night ever going to end? He didn’t want to be there. It was that simple, but what he couldn’t figure out was why. He loved the bar, loved being in the bar, loved owning his third of the bar. It was his home, his safe haven, but tonight he just couldn’t muster up the love for it.
Tossing the rag in the sink, he knew exactly why he was so restless. Carrie. The woman he’d met at the grocery store earlier in the day. He’d walked out, carrying his purchases, and stopped dead when he heard her voice as she talked on the phone and just stared at her. Dressed conservatively in a knee-length skirt that hugged her hips and a blindingly white, stiffly starched button-down shirt, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and all he wanted to do was pull it. He’d wanted her on her knees right then and there, sucking the hell out of his dick while he held his bags of pretzels and cans of peanuts in one hand and pulled on that ponytail with the other. And here hours later, he wanted her still, naked on the bar, with her legs over his shoulders while he ate at her pussy. He wanted her and the innocence in her eyes so much he hurt.
They spoke briefly when she’d approached him and asked for directions to her new job. She’d explained that she was new in town, knew how to find her way from her apartment to where she would be working, but that she’d gotten all turned around while running errands and was lost. As she talked, all he could see in his mind was his ass burning in hell for the outrageously impure thoughts he was having about her mouth, her tits inside a bra he figured was serviceable and not at all sexy, and the holy land between her thighs. He’d had virgins and innocents before, and at times loved being the one to pop cherries. But this particular cherry was not going to be picked by him because she worked at the one place in town he swore never to associate with again, and that included the people there. She was off limits.
What a goddamn fucking shame too.
She’d asked his name and had willingly given hers, something he could have gone without knowing because now he knew what to call out when he came later. And that was just going to make it worse. Her name on his lips, in his mind.
Dallon looked up at the clock. Thirty minutes and he could close everything down for the night. He could lock up and head upstairs, jack off to the memory of her sweet, soft self. It was probably a good thing he didn’t know where she lived or that’s where he’d be going. He didn’t think someone like her would venture into a bar, so he was safe there too, even though she’d asked where he worked and if it was likely she’d be seeing him again, how it would be nice to have at least one friend.
He’d cursed himself for telling her where the bar was at the same moment he was giving her those directions too. Resisting temptation had never been his strong suit and damned if he wasn’t tempted from head to toe by her lush body and sweet voice and dark, melted chocolate eyes.
His head shot up and his gaze landed on her. “What the hell are you doing here?” he barked.
Her eyes widened at his harsh tone and the question he’d carelessly thrown out at her. He hadn’t meant to, but he was too close to the edge. He couldn’t remember the last time he wanted someone so much. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way, I just…”
She smiled and walked closer to the bar and to him, undeterred. God help him. He flinched inwardly at his choice of word. “It’s okay. I’m sure we’re both equally surprised.”
She was so pretty, so downy and pure. He wanted to defile every inch of her flesh until nothing could ever erase the memory of him from her skin. He wanted so much but he fucking needed her to leave. “You shouldn’t be here, Carrie.” Literally, the man or woman upstairs needed to send a bolt of lightning south and strike him dead for the thoughts he was having about this woman.
“Why not? This is a bar and I want a drink.” She sat down on a barstool directly across from him and linked her fingers on top of the dark, scarred wood.
He sighed. Why not? Oh, because the kind of things he wanted to do to her would ruin him for any other woman. And he’d bet she’d never had a drop of alcohol before. “You do, huh? Anything in particular?” There’s no way he’d give her just anything. He didn’t want her throwing up.
“Maybe a beer? One of those kinds with lime. You know, from the commercials of the couple on the beach. I like lime.”
Right. Beer wasn’t a bad choice. He personally couldn’t stand the stuff, but it was milder than a whiskey or tequila or rum. He dug around in the ice chest to his right for a Corona, popped the top off with the bottle opener and placed it on a cardboard coaster in front of her. “Take it slow. Don’t take a big swallow at first.”
She nodded and picked up the bottle and inhaled. It was the cutest thing how her nose wrinkled. She tentatively put the beer to her mouth, and just before she wrapped her lips around the opening, she looked up at him and lowered it slightly. “Do you like beer?”
Should he be honest or should he tell a little white lie? “Yes, every now and then.” What could the fib hurt? Whether he drank beer or not didn’t matter. What did matter was her feeling as if she weren’t completely alone in this.
When she wrapped her mouth around the lip of the bottle and tilted it up, letting some of the smooth, golden liquid flow across her tongue, Dallon fought back a groan. She swallowed, and as he watched her throat working, all he could think of was her mouth wrapped around his dick and her swallowing his come. “What do you think?”
She took another small sip then a bigger sip, and then set the bottle back down on the coaster. “It’s hard to describe. It’s not really a pleasant taste but it’s not a bad one either.” She smiled. “I think I like it. How much do I owe you?”
“You don’t. It’s on the house.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t accept that,” she said, and reached into her purse.
Dallon reached across the bar and stayed her hand. The contact was sizzling hot. “Yes, you can accept it. It’s on the house,” he said again. He didn’t want to let go of her wrist, but he did. It was time for her to go, time for him to lock up and forget he’d ever met her. He liked being single, unencumbered. He liked one-night stands and no morning-after awkwardness. If he had her once, he’d have her again and again. Not good for his peace of mind and his carefree existence. “I need to close up.”
He didn’t know what else he should say, but she didn’t respond. She was looking around the bar, turning full circle on the stool. When she faced him again, she picked up the bottle and took another swallow. Damn, but she had a pretty mouth.
“I don’t want to leave.”
Shit. Don’t say anything. Not a word. Not a single solitary word. “You should.”
She raised her eyes to look him square in his, a silent challenge reflected there. “Why?”
Dammit. He planted his hands on the edge of the bar and leaned toward her until he could smell the beer on her breath. “Because you don’t know who I am and you don’t know what fire you’re playing with.”
She licked at her lips. He wasn’t even sure she knew she did it. “W-who are you?”
No sense lying about it or anything else now. “The devil himself.”