BEND (Vegas Heat - Book One) by Molly McLain
Focused and in control at all times. Most people think I’m a prick—and I’ll be the first to admit that’s probably true. But I’d rather be a take-no-shit cop than the kind of man genetics says I should be. You break the law, you pay the price. I don’t give a damn if you’re the captain’s daughter or the Queen of friggin’ England.
I have no patience for the cocky men my father oversees. Or maybe it’s just Sergeant Hardass who gets under my skin. Not only is he sexy as sin, he refuses to cut me a break. And now I have to work with the arrogant jerk.
I shouldn’t want him, but a secret part of me craves his unforgiving edge. He could give me everything I need, but, first, I have to break down his walls.
I have to make him bend.
This was my introduction to this author. My virginity was broken with Bend. And I kinda liked it.
I was very pleasantly pleased with the gentleness in which she took my virginity too.
Let's start with Sergeant Hardass. Did you read the synopsis above? Yeah, Hardass got under her skin. And he got under mine too. But as we dug deeper into the story, the layers of Jackass were peeled away and Princess pulled out a softer side to Alpha Dumbass and made me actually like the guy. *sigh* How do these authors do this to me?
My point with telling you that I hated him and then liked him and then loved him is actually legit. If an author can wholeheartedly and singlehandedly sway me to extremes on a character, I'm impressed. End of story.
ASIDE from the characters. This is a fun, entertaining, sexy lil' read. There is a twist of whodunit to add to the mix but generally it's humorous and hot and truly a fun afternoon read. I totally dug the plot and the setting ... I mean a "Vegas" book can lead to all different directions, but this was fantastically done and is not at all a "cliche" Vegas read.
This book did win me over, and now I am probably a bit of Molly-slut. See what breaking my virginity does?
AMAZON * B&N * KOBO * iBOOKS * GOOGLE PLAY
Like many novelists, especially romance writers, my infatuation with a good love story began early. I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but I’ll admit that Barbie and Ken acted more than a couple of the story lines I had in my head (sorry, Mom, but, no, not all of them were kid-appropriate). The obsession continued to grow as I got older and, whenever I left home, I always had a wire-bound notebook and a blue ballpoint pen in hand. In fact, every August, I still get that goofy, schoolgirl itch to buy up oodles of pens and paper, because, while I love my laptop, nothing compares to writing long-hand. If the house is quiet and there’s a thunderstorm rumbling outside, even better.
Not that I have the slightest a clue what a quiet house is anymore. Having three rambunctious (but awesome) kids, a zippy dog and a pesky cat has completely blurred my memory of peace and quiet. Oh, and I have a husband too–I call him the FisherGuy–and he’s probably louder and crazier than all the rest. I think I’ll keep him though. After all, he keeps me in fresh fish year-round (yum!) and he’s good hero material. Did I mention he’s also a firefighter?
We live in Northern Wisconsin and, let me tell ya, living here has provided lots of small-town fodder for this writer’s overactive imagination. Of course, I know no one who’s lived anything close to the steamy experiences I write about (not that I’d tell ya if I did *wink*). There’s something inherently sexy about not knowing what goes on behind closed doors…or even better, letting my imagination run free, concocting all kinds of stories and scenarios and putting them down on paper. Or my laptop.