Showing posts sorted by relevance for query cecy robson. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query cecy robson. Sort by date Show all posts
Saturday, April 27, 2024
Friday, July 15, 2016
Let Me by Cecy Robson ♥ FREE eBook (Today Only) ♥ (Sports / MMA Romance)
A mixed martial arts star on the rise, Finn O'Brien dismantles his opponents with brutal precision. And yet beneath his fierce persona, Finn is raw from a trauma he's buried for years . . . until the day his deep-rooted rage erupts and lands him in court-mandated therapy. Finn's not one to bare his soul, but if talking it out means meeting beautiful women like Sol Marieles, he'll give it a shot.
Sol is working toward her masters degree in psychology, and already she feels like she's in over her head. With an important internship on the line and a scary family situation demanding her attention, the last thing Sol needs is Finn around to distract her. The man is ripped and seriously sexy yet it's his troubled side that warns her to keep her distance. But their attraction is intense, and he clearly has the heat to see how far and fast their passion takes them.
Alone, Finn and Sol have been fighting to find happiness in their lives. Together, there's no stopping them as they face their greatest challenges-not in the ring, but in their hearts.
Easton grins. He thinks I’m afraid of him. He thinks he has me where he wants me. But fear is an emotion I don’t allow myself to entertain. Fear gets you hurt and rips you apart till you think there’s nothing left.
I dodge out of reach. He scowls and takes another swing. This one gets close enough to my jaw to create a breeze that whips across my skin.
“Finn,” my brother Killian barks from the side. “Take him out now.”
He’s worried about me. So is my family. But now’s not the time to think about them. I keep my hands up as I edge away, letting Easton think I’m backing down, that I’m tired and need to catch my breath.
I sidestep when he lunges forward, avoiding his next swing and use the momentum to drop my head and nail him in the temple with a roundhouse kick.
Like I said, Easton’s fast.
Too bad for him I’m a little bit faster.
The kick is my signature move, as natural for me as the next breath. He goes down like I planned. But in the Octagon you don’t stop just because your opponent collapses like timber. You charge forward. You show him what you’re made of. And you prove just how tough you really are.
That muffled screaming, isn’t so muffled anymore. The crowd loses their shit as I pounce, my blows nailing Easton in the face until the ref’s arms hook beneath mine as he hauls me off. I back away, my fists up because I already know I won.
I should do a back flip or some crazy shit to incite the crowd. This is it. My time has come to own it. But the good things aren’t as great as they can be. Not with the memories that haunt me. And not with the anger they stir.
Killian rushes in as the medic wipes down my face. I’m bleeding from the punch Easton caught me with at the beginning of the round. I didn’t think it was that bad, but the way the ringside medic is pressing the towel against my head clues me in the gash isn’t closing like it should.
“I’m going to have to stitch you up, Fury,” he mumbles.
“I figured,” I tell him.
Kill pats my back. “Good job,” he says.
Maybe he believes it, but I don’t miss the concern in his voice. He thinks I took too many unnecessary hits. I can’t really argue, seeing how it’s true.
He doesn’t understand that I don’t feel those strikes the way I should. Hell, I don’t think I’ve felt anything the way I should in a long time. Not like I used to. I try to tell myself that maybe that’ a good thing. That numbness is better than pain. But I’m not so convinced anymore, and neither is my family. I try to shrug it off like I’m fine. Except given the way they’ve been eyeing me, I’m not fooling anyone.
I’m scaring everyone around me. And it sucks. Not only because I don’t want them scared, but mostly because I don’t know how to stop it.
I dodge out of reach. He scowls and takes another swing. This one gets close enough to my jaw to create a breeze that whips across my skin.
“Finn,” my brother Killian barks from the side. “Take him out now.”
He’s worried about me. So is my family. But now’s not the time to think about them. I keep my hands up as I edge away, letting Easton think I’m backing down, that I’m tired and need to catch my breath.
I sidestep when he lunges forward, avoiding his next swing and use the momentum to drop my head and nail him in the temple with a roundhouse kick.
Like I said, Easton’s fast.
Too bad for him I’m a little bit faster.
The kick is my signature move, as natural for me as the next breath. He goes down like I planned. But in the Octagon you don’t stop just because your opponent collapses like timber. You charge forward. You show him what you’re made of. And you prove just how tough you really are.
That muffled screaming, isn’t so muffled anymore. The crowd loses their shit as I pounce, my blows nailing Easton in the face until the ref’s arms hook beneath mine as he hauls me off. I back away, my fists up because I already know I won.
I should do a back flip or some crazy shit to incite the crowd. This is it. My time has come to own it. But the good things aren’t as great as they can be. Not with the memories that haunt me. And not with the anger they stir.
Killian rushes in as the medic wipes down my face. I’m bleeding from the punch Easton caught me with at the beginning of the round. I didn’t think it was that bad, but the way the ringside medic is pressing the towel against my head clues me in the gash isn’t closing like it should.
“I’m going to have to stitch you up, Fury,” he mumbles.
“I figured,” I tell him.
Kill pats my back. “Good job,” he says.
Maybe he believes it, but I don’t miss the concern in his voice. He thinks I took too many unnecessary hits. I can’t really argue, seeing how it’s true.
He doesn’t understand that I don’t feel those strikes the way I should. Hell, I don’t think I’ve felt anything the way I should in a long time. Not like I used to. I try to tell myself that maybe that’ a good thing. That numbness is better than pain. But I’m not so convinced anymore, and neither is my family. I try to shrug it off like I’m fine. Except given the way they’ve been eyeing me, I’m not fooling anyone.
I’m scaring everyone around me. And it sucks. Not only because I don’t want them scared, but mostly because I don’t know how to stop it.
Friday, March 3, 2017
Crave Me by Cecy Robson ❄️ Review, Book Tour & Giveaway ❄️ (Contemporary Romance)
Wren O’Brien isn’t your typical female. As the only girl from a loud Irish family with seven siblings, she prefers fast cars to lip gloss and bad boys to good men. It’s the reason she’s nursing a wounded soul and keeping her distance from a dangerous ex.
Evan Jonah is running an empire and just moved from the lavish thoroughfares of London to the gritty streets of Philadelphia. When he walks into the nearest dealership, he’s expecting to find a reliable vehicle to handle the brutal winters, not a sexy female car rep with killer legs.
Wren doesn’t know why “Hotness in a Suit” asked her out. She doesn’t expect a great time or a night of passion that knocks her on her ass. But that’s exactly what Evan shows her.
She also never counted on how hard and fast she’d fall. But men like Evan—good men with even better hearts—don’t desire tough-talking Philly girls for long.
Evan has never met a woman like Wren. But he’s up for the challenge and ready to prove her wrong.
An amazingly touching love story!
I LOVED the love in this book.
First of all, I loved Wren. Raised by six brothers, she knew sports, could throw down at any time and swore like a trucker. The fact that she's not the typical contemporary-romance heroine had me really intrigued.
Evan was absolutely adorable. Tough on the outside, yet he didn't fight his feelings once he realized what they were.
The story has some romantic-suspense elements in the form of Wren's ex, Bryant. This brought Wren and Evan even closer together, and the urgency of the situation put a lot of things into perspective for them.
And I almost cried like a baby at the end. Lol! The final scene was so touching and so well-written, and I can't wait to catch up with these two in the next book (this is totally a standalone!)
I am HOOKED on these O'Briens!!!!
(I received a copy of this book in consideration of an honest review)
I LOVED the love in this book.
First of all, I loved Wren. Raised by six brothers, she knew sports, could throw down at any time and swore like a trucker. The fact that she's not the typical contemporary-romance heroine had me really intrigued.
Evan was absolutely adorable. Tough on the outside, yet he didn't fight his feelings once he realized what they were.
The story has some romantic-suspense elements in the form of Wren's ex, Bryant. This brought Wren and Evan even closer together, and the urgency of the situation put a lot of things into perspective for them.
And I almost cried like a baby at the end. Lol! The final scene was so touching and so well-written, and I can't wait to catch up with these two in the next book (this is totally a standalone!)
I am HOOKED on these O'Briens!!!!
(I received a copy of this book in consideration of an honest review)
♥ My mouth is capable of three things: loud, louder, and non-stop (Wren)
♥ "You bring out the best in me, in and out of bed." I keep my eyes on hers to prove I mean what I say. "As much as I've lived, I wasn't alive until I met you." (Evan)
♥ "What are you thinking?" she asks.
I barely registered her edging forward. Yet here she is.
I meet the face that mesmerizes me and soothes my soul as effortlessly as my heart beats. "That the world can take my company, my money, and my health, but you're the one thing I can't live without." (Evan)
Again she crosses her legs. Again there are my eyes upon her. She raises her smooth dark eyebrows when she sees me watching her. “You like what you see?”
“Yes,” I respond, my voice lowering.
Her hand smooths across the counsel. “They come in cream and tan.”
“What?” I ask, jerking my focus between her and the road.
“The interior,” she says, tilting her chin. She laughs as my face heats. “What did you think I was talking about?”
I pretend to adjust the mirror before I end up on some “list”. “I thought you were discussing the vehicle in general.”
“No, you didn’t,” she says. She pauses as my body temperature rises several degrees. “Were you looking at my legs?”
“No.”
“Yeah, you were. You were totally checking me out.”
“Yes,” I respond, my voice lowering.
Her hand smooths across the counsel. “They come in cream and tan.”
“What?” I ask, jerking my focus between her and the road.
“The interior,” she says, tilting her chin. She laughs as my face heats. “What did you think I was talking about?”
I pretend to adjust the mirror before I end up on some “list”. “I thought you were discussing the vehicle in general.”
“No, you didn’t,” she says. She pauses as my body temperature rises several degrees. “Were you looking at my legs?”
“No.”
“Yeah, you were. You were totally checking me out.”
❄️ Click on the image to learn more ❄️
Win a Coach purse filled with goodies!
(A Tote, coasters and a print copy of LET ME)
Monday, May 22, 2017
Feel Me by Cecy Robson ❤️ Review, Book Tour & Giveaway ❤️ (Contemporary Romance)
Declan O’Brien was always driven to take his place among Philly’s elite, working hard for everything he’s earned, including the title of Assistant District Attorney. He’s won seemingly impossible cases, so he’s furious when he’s assigned to lead the one unit he doesn’t want.
Melissa Fenske was born hearing impaired to a neglectful mother, finding solace when she was adopted by a young attorney, now Declan’s boss. As the current Director of Victim Services, Melissa’s livid when Declan is placed in the main unit she oversees. She can’t forget their disastrous first encounter. Or shake how he makes her feel.
Declan considers the assignment another step toward his political aspirations, despite that he can’t get Melissa out of his mind. Melissa sees Declan as egotistical and self-serving, kicking herself for how fast she’s falling for his charm. Someone as hot, smooth, and perfect as Declan isn’t supposed to want her.
In another situation with any other woman, Declan wouldn’t hesitate to take Melissa to bed. But she is the boss’s daughter, and for once, Declan finds himself wanting more than just a one night stand.
Neither counted on each other. Both just met their match.
I LOVE these O'Briens!
This book had me at word 1. I will read anything Cecy writes! BIG fan! This is my 2nd Cecy book (my first was O'Brien #3), and while it's not necessary to have read any of the previous books in the series in order to enjoy this one, I highly recommend it!
I absolutely loved Declan. I especially loved Declan once he pulled his head out of his bottom and realized what he really wanted out of life. Specifically, Melissa. And I don't care how possessive he might have been of her; I thoroughly enjoyed every alpha-male-minute of it!
Melissa was truly a joy to read. I felt she was written beautifully, and that Cecy must have done a great deal of research on people living with hearing loss. This added a unique element to the story, and I just felt it was very well done.
This is a spectacular contemporary romance with smart characters and an engaging plot that had me eagerly turning the pages. I can't wait for the next book in this series!!!
(I received a copy of this book in consideration of an honest review)
This book had me at word 1. I will read anything Cecy writes! BIG fan! This is my 2nd Cecy book (my first was O'Brien #3), and while it's not necessary to have read any of the previous books in the series in order to enjoy this one, I highly recommend it!
I absolutely loved Declan. I especially loved Declan once he pulled his head out of his bottom and realized what he really wanted out of life. Specifically, Melissa. And I don't care how possessive he might have been of her; I thoroughly enjoyed every alpha-male-minute of it!
Melissa was truly a joy to read. I felt she was written beautifully, and that Cecy must have done a great deal of research on people living with hearing loss. This added a unique element to the story, and I just felt it was very well done.
This is a spectacular contemporary romance with smart characters and an engaging plot that had me eagerly turning the pages. I can't wait for the next book in this series!!!
(I received a copy of this book in consideration of an honest review)
I wish I didn’t want to drag my hands along her gorgeous curves or taste that pouty mouth But I do. Just like I want feel her body pressed against mine.
Shit. What the hell is wrong with me? As pissed as I was about being placed in SACU yesterday, I woke up hard this morning. Hard for Melissa. Melissa, who can barely stand being in the same room as me.
My eyes scrunch tight as I try to shake away the dream I had about her. We were at a black tie event, the kind where waiters walk around with silver trays packed with champagne and anyone who’s anyone in politics works the room flexing their egos. I was supposed to give some kind of speech. I opted out, returning my place with Melissa’s hand tight in mine.
We had sex in my living room. I can’t remember ever having a dream this graphic. She lay over my leather ottoman on her hands and knees, the skirt of her black beaded gown hiked up to her waist, my mouth buried against her. I tugged off my jacket and tie, managing to pop open the front of my shirt before I couldn’t take it anymore and shoved my pants and briefs down to my ankles.
In those romance movies women like to watch, my thrusts would have been slow and sweet. But there was nothing slow or sweet about what we did. It was sexy, primal; me grunting hard and her hips circling fast. Her hair fell in messy waves around her heated face as she clamped down, turning her head enough to see me, and show me the sexy way she bites down on her bottom lip.
I wasn’t a gentleman in my dream. I was the epitome of an alpha claiming what belongs to him. She loved it, calling out my name and begging me to go faster.
My problem is, I loved it too. A little too much.
I groan, thinking about how hot she made me and entertaining why she made me so hot. Melissa is different. Curvy hips, round perky ass, with what I’m guessing are some serious double-Ds. I usually date the model types, those who spend more time on their hair, shopping, and make-up and less time on anything that really matters. Why? Because they’re not looking for anything serious, and neither am I.
When I take a long hard look at all the political giants I know, every last one of them has a devoted wife, looking adoringly back at them―standing by them, raising their children, spearheading charities, and working tirelessly on their husbands’ campaigns―usually alongside the skanks their husbands are fucking when they’re not around. I’m not exaggerating. It’s what men of power are almost expected to do. But I swear to Christ, I’m not going to be one of them.
Shit. What the hell is wrong with me? As pissed as I was about being placed in SACU yesterday, I woke up hard this morning. Hard for Melissa. Melissa, who can barely stand being in the same room as me.
My eyes scrunch tight as I try to shake away the dream I had about her. We were at a black tie event, the kind where waiters walk around with silver trays packed with champagne and anyone who’s anyone in politics works the room flexing their egos. I was supposed to give some kind of speech. I opted out, returning my place with Melissa’s hand tight in mine.
We had sex in my living room. I can’t remember ever having a dream this graphic. She lay over my leather ottoman on her hands and knees, the skirt of her black beaded gown hiked up to her waist, my mouth buried against her. I tugged off my jacket and tie, managing to pop open the front of my shirt before I couldn’t take it anymore and shoved my pants and briefs down to my ankles.
In those romance movies women like to watch, my thrusts would have been slow and sweet. But there was nothing slow or sweet about what we did. It was sexy, primal; me grunting hard and her hips circling fast. Her hair fell in messy waves around her heated face as she clamped down, turning her head enough to see me, and show me the sexy way she bites down on her bottom lip.
I wasn’t a gentleman in my dream. I was the epitome of an alpha claiming what belongs to him. She loved it, calling out my name and begging me to go faster.
My problem is, I loved it too. A little too much.
I groan, thinking about how hot she made me and entertaining why she made me so hot. Melissa is different. Curvy hips, round perky ass, with what I’m guessing are some serious double-Ds. I usually date the model types, those who spend more time on their hair, shopping, and make-up and less time on anything that really matters. Why? Because they’re not looking for anything serious, and neither am I.
When I take a long hard look at all the political giants I know, every last one of them has a devoted wife, looking adoringly back at them―standing by them, raising their children, spearheading charities, and working tirelessly on their husbands’ campaigns―usually alongside the skanks their husbands are fucking when they’re not around. I’m not exaggerating. It’s what men of power are almost expected to do. But I swear to Christ, I’m not going to be one of them.
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