Author: Jane Harvey-Berrick
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publish Date: January 2, 2017
Review Source: Ardent Prose PR
Single mother Dawn is doing just fine. Except that her ex- is a pain in the ass, her sister isn’t speaking to her, and her love life is on the endangered list.
“I had a really nice time today, Alex. We both did.”
He nodded slowly, seeming to ponder my words.
“Nice. Nice?”
“You don’t like that word?”
His reply wasn’t acerbic, if anything, he sounded thoughtful.
“I haven’t had a whole lot of nice.”
I wondered if I should take his words as an opportunity to dig deeper, but he seemed more closed off now and a little sad, and I didn’t want to spoil such a lovely day.
“Nice is good,” I agreed evenly, and was happy when he forced a small smile. “Thank you—for everything.”
I leaned across to kiss him on the cheek, surprised by my own boldness. His eyes widened and he sucked in a quick breath.
Was the world still spinning or had time frozen as we sat there, creatures in the dark our only witnesses?
Is love a disease? An affliction? Or is it something catching? Can you catch love, can you hold it in your hands, can it be communicated like a plague? Or is it like an infectious laugh that makes your eyes water and your stomach hurt, even though the joke isn’t funny?
I’d begun to believe I was immune to love—the kind that exists between a man and a woman. Instead, I’d been gifted an ocean of love for my daughter. I thought perhaps that had filled me full, leaving no room for other love.
Other loves.
My lips tingled from the roughness of his day-old stubble.
And is it love when you want someone’s smile as much as you want their body? When their laughter softens your words to a prayer?
My heart began to race.
Or is it sheer animal lust, a torrent of hormones assaulting your blood, heating you from the inside out?
He reached out to touch me, questions in his shadowed eyes as he cupped my cheek. I sighed and leaned into him, eyelids fluttering.
My mother always says it’s the softness of men that she loves most, because it’s at the center of them. Their outsides are hard with muscle; their bodies large, larger than hers—or mine—heavier, stronger. So when a man’s touch is soft, when his fingers drift across your skin like sunbeams, then you’re seeing into his soul.
I never understood. I never believed her.
Until now.

Review Source: Ardent Prose PR
“Take me, all of me, broken and in pieces, or say
to hell with me.”
WARNING!
WARNING!
This book will break your heart!
From the best-selling romance author
of THE EDUCATION OF SEBASTIAN comes a sexy, heart-breaking and heart-warming
story about one man and his dog. (Standalone)
Alex is lost and alone, with only his dog, Stan for company. He doesn’t expect kindness from anyone anymore, but sometimes hope can be found in the most unlikely places. He has a second chance at happiness, but there’s a dark side to Alex, and a reason that more than one person has called him crazy.
Alex is lost and alone, with only his dog, Stan for company. He doesn’t expect kindness from anyone anymore, but sometimes hope can be found in the most unlikely places. He has a second chance at happiness, but there’s a dark side to Alex, and a reason that more than one person has called him crazy.
Single mother Dawn is doing just fine. Except that her ex- is a pain in the ass, her sister isn’t speaking to her, and her love life is on the endangered list.
At least her job as a veterinarian is going well. Until a crazy-looking guy arrives at her office accompanied by an aging dog with toothache. Or maybe Alex Winters isn’t so crazy after all, just … different.
Dawn realizes that she’s treated him the same way that all the gossips in town have treated her—people can be very cruel.
Contains scenes of an adult nature.
This is a standalone novel with no cliff-hanger.
Contains scenes of an adult nature.
This is a standalone novel with no cliff-hanger.
Intriguing ... loving ...
heavy hearted ... emotional ... thoughtful. These are all words that describe
One Careful Owner.
Alex Winters found himself
in the worst way and he needed to find his happy again. Binging and feeling
sorry for himself was not working, so he decided to do something about it. He
was going to live his life for the better. Thankfully, he had his trusty
side-kick, Stan the dog along for the ride. He started to become close with the
local Veterinarian, Dawn and her precious eight year-old daughter, Katie. His
love for animals is what intrigued Dawn so very much. However, he was
mysterious and a little on edge. Could he be trusted around Katie? She is
Dawn's pride and joy. The town was very unsure of this new stranger and they
made sure to make that known. Will Stan bring them all together as one, or will
the town be sure to keep them apart? One thing is for certain, he will become
the man that he used to be, if it was the last thing he did.
Jane Harvey-Berrick is one
extraordinary author. She is a poet with her words. A literary genius, I like
to say. The emotions that her words seem to evoke from my soul is utterly
amazing. I always come away feeling as though I was in the midst of the
characters. Laughing, loving, crying, rejoicing, right along with them. There
was no exception here. I found myself smiling when I read "The End."
I am just in awe of her brilliance. Please make sure to pick up your copy
today. This story is definitely one in a million!
“I had a really nice time today, Alex. We both did.”
He nodded slowly, seeming to ponder my words.
“Nice. Nice?”
“You don’t like that word?”
His reply wasn’t acerbic, if anything, he sounded thoughtful.
“I haven’t had a whole lot of nice.”
I wondered if I should take his words as an opportunity to dig deeper, but he seemed more closed off now and a little sad, and I didn’t want to spoil such a lovely day.
“Nice is good,” I agreed evenly, and was happy when he forced a small smile. “Thank you—for everything.”
I leaned across to kiss him on the cheek, surprised by my own boldness. His eyes widened and he sucked in a quick breath.
Was the world still spinning or had time frozen as we sat there, creatures in the dark our only witnesses?
Is love a disease? An affliction? Or is it something catching? Can you catch love, can you hold it in your hands, can it be communicated like a plague? Or is it like an infectious laugh that makes your eyes water and your stomach hurt, even though the joke isn’t funny?
I’d begun to believe I was immune to love—the kind that exists between a man and a woman. Instead, I’d been gifted an ocean of love for my daughter. I thought perhaps that had filled me full, leaving no room for other love.
Other loves.
My lips tingled from the roughness of his day-old stubble.
And is it love when you want someone’s smile as much as you want their body? When their laughter softens your words to a prayer?
My heart began to race.
Or is it sheer animal lust, a torrent of hormones assaulting your blood, heating you from the inside out?
He reached out to touch me, questions in his shadowed eyes as he cupped my cheek. I sighed and leaned into him, eyelids fluttering.
My mother always says it’s the softness of men that she loves most, because it’s at the center of them. Their outsides are hard with muscle; their bodies large, larger than hers—or mine—heavier, stronger. So when a man’s touch is soft, when his fingers drift across your skin like sunbeams, then you’re seeing into his soul.
I never understood. I never believed her.
Until now.
So gently, so very gently, he pressed his dry lips
against mine, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him back.
He tasted of coffee, and he smelled like sunshine and
pine forest.
Gentleness turned to want, and want turned to need,
and I thought my mother was wrong. I wanted to feel the strength of his body
surrounding me, on top of me. I wanted to feel his hardness against me, inside
me. I was wearied by supporting the weight of my family alone. I wanted someone
to carry me. For just a little while. A single moment.
The wooden arm of the chair pressed into my ribs as I
leaned across, and I tried to ignore it. But Alex lifted me onto his lap, shocking
a gasp out of me that ended with a soft laugh, because maybe he’d read my mind,
because maybe he wanted the same things I did. And then we were kissing again.
Again and again for the longest time, hesitance turning to urgency, and long
languid kisses to heated mouths and hot sighs.
My fingers fumbled to find the hem of his shirt as I
floundered my way down his chest, sliding my palms across warm skin that left
shivers in their wake. I started pushing the material upward, and Alex leaned
forward and dragged the shirt off, tossing it to the ground impatiently.
All day, I’d longed to touch, yearned to taste, feared
to want. I was tired of caution, weary of wading through life alone. If this
was just one night, I’d celebrate it forever, and if it was more … well, that
was a bridge still to be crossed, a land waiting for discovery.
My hands swept down his back, reading his skin with my
fingers as if sight didn’t exist, while we continued to kiss, tongues tasting,
learning and teaching. I gripped his biceps, my fingers digging into the ridge
of muscle, shuddering with pleasure as he cupped my breast with one hand, the
other anchored behind my back to stop me from falling.
Too late.
I’d already fallen for Alex Winters, man of mystery,
animal lover, gentle soul, wounded warrior in the battle of life. Or maybe
that’s just life. We’re all survivors, one way or another.

Jane is a writer of contemporary romance fiction,
known for thoughtful stories, often touching on difficult subjects: disability
(DANGEROUS TO KNOW & LOVE, SLAVE TO THE RHYTHM); mental illness (THE
EDUCATION OF CAROLINE, SEMPER FI); life after prison (LIFERS); dyslexia (THE
TRAVELING MAN, THE TRAVELING WOMAN).
She is also a campaigner for former military personnel
to receive the support they need on leaving the services. She wrote the
well-received play LATER, AFTER with former veteran Mike Speirs.
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hk1CyB8c0xA )
Author Links
Web Facebook
Twitter Amazon Page Goodreads
Instagram
No comments:
Post a Comment