Review – THE CHATEAU by Tiffany Reisz

The Chateau by Tiffany Reisz is now LIVE!! Grab yourself some Kingsley and enjoy this thrilling and erotic ride!

As the Jack-of-All-Wicked-Trades for a secretive French military intelligence agency, 24-year-old Lieutenant Kingsley Boissonneault has done it all—spied, lied, and killed under orders. But his latest assignment is quite out of the ordinary. His commanding officer’s nephew has disappeared inside a sex cult, and Kingsley has been tasked with bringing him home to safety.

The cult’s holy book is Story of O, the infamous French novel of extreme sado-masochism. Their château is a looking-glass world where women reign and men are their willing slaves. Or are they willing? It’s Kingsley’s mission to find out.

Once inside the château, however, Kingsley quickly falls under the erotic spell cast by the enigmatic Madame, a woman of wisdom, power, and beauty. She offers Kingsley the one thing he’s always wanted. But the price? Giving up forever the only person he’s ever loved.

*The Chateau is a new standalone Original Sinners novel from international bestseller Tiffany Reisz, author of The Siren and The Lucky Ones.*

It’s been no secret that this year has seen the Original Sinners series by Tiffany Reisz become my favourite series of all time. After finally starting these book in January, I have read and re-read them, and so when I heard that Kingsley was getting his own book where we go back in time to witness what he got up to during his time in the French Foreign Legion, I couldn’t contain my excitement!

I dove in almost as soon as The Chateau hit my kindle, and I immediately got lost in Kingsley’s world. Getting to know a younger Kingsley during the period of time where Søren wasn’t in his life, at least not in the physical form anyway, was interesting to say the least.

I loved seeing this part of him – it was the Kingsley we love, all while also being someone new, at least to us. I loved his time at the Chateau, the twists, the memories, the whole ride. It was a thrilling and incredibly sexy read, which should come as no surprise being a novel about the one and only Kingsley Boissonneault. As soon as I finished, I went right back to the beginning. A fantastic addition to an incredible series.



The Siren #1 – Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle

The Angel #2 – Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle

The Prince #3 – Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle

The Mistress #4 – Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle

The Saint #5 – Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle

The King #6 – Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle

The Virgin #7 – Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle

The Queen #8 – Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle

The Chateau #9 – Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle



Tiffany Reisz lives on Mt. Hood in Oregon in her secret volcanic lair with her husband (author Andrew Shaffer) and two cats (one good, one evil).

If she couldn’t write, she would die. Probably in a volcano eruption.

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Chapter Reveal – A WISH FOR US by Tillie Cole

I am so insanely in love with the cover of A Wish For Us by Tillie Cole, I cannot wait to be able to devour this entire book! But in the meantime, I have the first chapter available for your viewing pleasure! Enjoy!!


From the author who brought you A Thousand Boy Kisses comes the new emotional novel, A Wish For Us.

A story of music. A story of healing. A story of love conquering all.

Nineteen-year-old Cromwell Dean is the rising star of electronic dance music. Thousands of people adore him. But no one knows him. No one sees the color of his heart.

Until the girl in the purple dress. She sees through the walls he has built to the empty darkness within.

When Cromwell leaves behind the gray skies of England to study music in the South Carolina heat, the last thing he expects is to see her again. And he certainly doesn’t expect that she’ll stay in his head like a song on repeat.

Bonnie Farraday lives for music. She lets every note into her heart, and she doesn’t understand how someone as talented as Cromwell can avoid doing the same. He’s hiding from his past, and she knows it. She tries to stay away from him, but something keeps calling her back.

Bonnie is the burst of color in Cromwell’s darkness. He’s the beat that makes her heart skip.

But when a shadow falls over Bonnie, it’s up to Cromwell to be her light, in the only way he knows how. He must help her find the lost song in her fragile heart. He must keep her strong with a symphony only he can compose.

A symphony of hope.

A symphony of love.

A symphony of them.

CHAPTER ONE

Cromwell

Brighton, England

The club pulsed as the beat I was pouring into the crowd took over their bodies. Arms in the air, hips swaying, eyes wide and glazed as my music slammed into their ears, the rhythmic beats controlling their every move. The air was thick and sticky, clothes slick to people’s skins as they crammed into the full club to hear me.

I watched them light up with color. Watched them get lost to the sound. Watched them shed whoever they’d been that day—an office worker, a student, a copper, a call-center worker—what the hell ever. Right now, in this club, most probably high off their faces, they were slaves to my tunes. Right here, in this moment, my music was their life. It was all that mattered as their heads flew back and they chased the high, the near nirvana I gave them from my place on the podium.

I, however, felt nothing. Nothing but the numbness the booze beside me was gifting me.

Two arms slipped around my waist. Hot breath blew past my ear as full lips kissed my neck. Spinning my final beat, I grabbed the Jack Daniels beside me and took a shot straight from the bottle. I slammed the bottle down and moved back to my laptop to mix in the next tune. Hands with sharp fingernails ran through my hair, pulling on the black strands. I tapped on the keys, bringing the music down low, slowing the beat.

My breaths lengthened as the crowd waited, lungs frozen as I brought them to a slow sway, readying for the crescendo. The epic surge of beats and drums, the insanity of the mix that I would deliver. I looked up from my laptop and scanned the crowd, smirking at seeing them on the precipice, waiting . . . waiting . . . just waiting . . .

Now.

I slammed my hand down, holding my headphones to my left ear. A surge, a thundercloud of electronic dance music plowed into the crowd. Bursts of neon colors filled the air. Greens and blues and reds filled my eyes as they clung to each person like neon shields.

The hands around my waist tightened, but I ignored them, instead listening to the bottle of Jack as it called my name. I took another shot, my muscles starting to loosen. My hands danced over the laptop’s keys, over my mix boards.

I looked up, the crowd still in the palm of my hand.

They always were.

A girl in the center of the club drew my attention. Long brown hair pulled back off her face. Purple dress, high necked—she was dressed nothing like everyone else. The color surrounding her was different to the other clubbers—pale pink and lavender. Calmer. More serene. My eyebrows pulled down as I watched her. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t moving. She was still, and she looked to be completely alone as people crashed and pushed around her. Her head was tipped up, a look of concentration on her face.

I built up the pace, pushing the rhythm and the crowd as far as they could go. But the girl didn’t move. That wasn’t normal for me. I always had these clubbers wrapped around my finger. I controlled them, in every place I spun. In this arena, I was the puppet master. They were the dolls.

Another shot of Jack burned down my throat. And through another five songs, she stayed there, on the spot, just drinking in the beats like water. But her face never changed. No smile. No euphoric high. Just . . . eyes closed, that damn pinched look on her face.

And that pink and lavender still surrounding her like a shield.

“Cromwell,” the blonde who was all over me like a rash said into my ear. Her fingers lifted up my shirt and tucked into the waistband of my jeans. Her long nails dipped low. But I refused to tear my eyes away from the girl in the purple dress.

Her brown hair was starting to curl, sweat from being sandwiched by clubbers taking its effect. The blonde who was one step from wanking me off in full view of the club snapped my fly. I keyed in my next mix, then grabbed her hand and threw it away from me, snapping my fly closed. I groaned when her hands slid back into my hair. I looked at my mate who had spun before me. “Nick!” I pointed to my decks. “Watch this. And don’t mess it up.”

Nick frowned in confusion, then saw the girl behind me and smiled. He took my headphones from me and moved to make sure the playlist I’d set up played on cue. Steve, the club’s owner, always let a few girls backstage. I never asked for it, but I never turned them down either. Why would I refuse a hot bird who was up for anything?

I swiped my Jack off my podium as the blonde smashed her lips to mine, pulling me back by my sleeveless Creamfields shirt. I wrenched my mouth from hers, replacing it with the Jack bottle. The blonde dragged me into a dark spot backstage. She dropped to her knees and started again on my fly. I closed my eyes as she went to work.

I sucked on the Jack as my head hit the wall behind me. I forced myself to feel something. I glanced down, watching blond hair bounce below me. But the numbness I lived with every damn day made me feel virtually nothing inside. Pressure built at the base of my spine. My thighs tightened, and then it was over.

The blonde got up. I could see the stars in her eyes as she looked at me. “Your eyes.” She reached out a finger to trace around my eye. “The strangest color. Such dark blue.”

They were. Coupled with my black hair, they always drew attention. That and the fact that I was one of the hottest new DJs in Europe, of course. Okay, maybe it was less to do with my eyes and more to do with my name, Cromwell Dean, gracing the headline spot on most of the biggest music festivals and clubs this summer.

I zipped up my fly and turned to see Nick spinning my next mix. I cringed when he failed to transition the beats like I would have. Navy blue was the backdrop to the smoke on the dancefloor.

I never hit navy blue.

I brushed past the girl with a “Thanks, love,” ignoring her hiss of “Prick” in response. I took my headphones off Nick’s head and put them on my own. A few taps of the keyboard later, the crowd was back in the palm of my hand.

Without conscious thought, my eyes found their way to the spot where the girl in the purple dress had stood.

But she’d gone. So had the pale pink and lavender.

I threw back another shot of Jack. Mixed another tune. Then zoned the fuck out.

*****

The sand was cold under my feet. It may well have been the start of summer here in the UK, but that didn’t mean the night wind didn’t freeze your balls off the minute you stepped outside. Clutching my bottle of booze and my cigarettes, I dropped down to the sand. I lit up and stared at the dark sky. My phone buzzed in my pocket . . . again. It’d been going off all night.

Pissed off that I actually had to move my arm, I pulled out my mobile. I had three missed calls from Professor Lewis. Two from my mum, and finally, a couple of texts.

Mum: Professor Lewis has been trying to get hold of you again. What are you going to do? Please just call me. I know you’re upset, but this is your future. You have a gift, son. Maybe it’s time for a fresh start this year. Don’t waste it because you’re angry at me.

Red-hot fury shot through me. I wanted to throw my phone in the damn sea and watch it sink to the bottom along with all this messed-up shit in my head, but I saw Professor Lewis had texted too.

Lewis: The offer still stands but I need an answer by next week. I have all I need for the transfer except your answer. You have an exceptional talent, Cromwell. Don’t waste it. I can help.

This time I did drop my phone beside me and sank back into the sand. I let the rush of nicotine fill my lungs and closed my eyes. As my eyelids shut, I heard quiet music playing somewhere nearby. Classical. Mozart.

My drunken mind immediately drifted off to when I was a little kid . . .

“What do you hear, Cromwell?” my father asked.

I closed my eyes and listened to the piece of music. Colors danced before my eyes. “Piano. Violins. Cellos . . .” I took a deep breath. “I can hear reds and greens and pinks.”

I opened my eyes and looked up at my father as he sat on my bed. He was staring down at me. There was a funny expression on his face. “You hear colors?” he said. But he didn’t sound surprised. My face set on fire. I ducked my head under my duvet. My father pulled it down from my eyes. He stroked my hair. “That’s good,” he said, his voice kind of deep. “That’s very good . . .”

My eyes snapped open. My hand started to ache. I looked at the bottle in my hand; my fingers were white as they gripped the neck. I sat up, my head spinning from the mass of whiskey in my body. My temples throbbed. I realized it wasn’t from the Jack, but from the music coming from further down the beach. I pushed my hair back from my face then looked to my right.

Someone was only a few feet away. I squinted into the lightening night, summer’s early rising sun making it possible to make out the features of whoever the hell it was. It was a girl. A girl wrapped in a blanket. Her phone sat beside her, a Mozart piano concerto drifting quietly from the speaker.

She must have felt me looking at her, because she turned her head. I frowned, wondering why I knew her face, but then—

“You’re the DJ,” she said.

Recognition dawned. It was the girl in the purple dress.

She clutched her blanket closer around her as I replayed her accent in my head. American. Bible Belt was my guess, by her thick twang.

She sounded like my mum.

A smile tugged at her lips as I stayed mute. I wasn’t much of a talker. Especially when my gut was full of Jack and I had zero interest in making small talk with some girl I didn’t know at four in the morning on a cold beach in Brighton.

“I’d heard of you,” she said. I stared back out over the sea. Ships sailed in the distance, their lights like tiny fireflies, bobbing up and down. I huffed a humorless laugh. Great. Another girl who wanted to screw the DJ.

“Good for you,” I muttered and took a drink of my Jack, feeling the addictive burn slide down my throat. I hoped she’d piss off, or at least stop trying to talk to me. My head couldn’t take any more noise.

“Not really,” she shot back. I looked over at her, eyebrows pulled down in confusion. She was looking out over the sea, her chin resting on her folded arms that lay over her bent knees. The blanket had fallen off her shoulders, revealing the purple dress I’d noticed from the podium. She turned to face me, cheek now on her arms. Heat zipped through me. She was pretty. “I’ve heard of you, Cromwell Dean.” She shrugged. “Decided to get a ticket to see you before I left for home tomorrow.”

I lit up another cigarette. Her nose wrinkled. She clearly didn’t like the smell.

Tough luck. She could move. Last time I checked, England was a free country. She went quiet.

I caught her looking at me. Her brown eyes were narrowed, like she was scrutinizing me. Reading something in me that I didn’t want anyone to see.

No one ever looked at me closely. I never gave them the chance. I thrived on the podium at clubs because it kept everyone far away, down on the dancefloor where no one ever saw the real me. The way she was looking at me now made nervous shivers break out over my skin.

I didn’t need this kind of crap.

“Already had my dick sucked tonight, love. Not looking for a second round.”

She blinked, and even in the rising sun, I could see her cheeks redden.

“Your music has no soul,” she blurted. My cigarette paused halfway to my mouth. Something managed to stab through my stomach at her words. I shoved it back down until I felt my usual sensation of numbness.

I sucked on my cigarette. “Yeah? Well, them’s the breaks.”

“I’d heard you were some messiah or something on that podium. But all your music comprised was synthetic beats and forced repetitive bursts of unoriginal tempo.”

I laughed and shook my head. The girl met my eyes head-on. “It’s called electronic dance music. Not a fifty-piece orchestra.” I held out my arms. “You’ve heard of me. Said so yourself. You know what tunes I spin. What were you expecting? Mozart?” I glared at her phone, which was still playing that damn concerto.

I sat back, surprised at myself. I hadn’t talked that much to anyone in . . . I didn’t know how long. I took in a drag, breathing out the smoke that was trapped in my chest. “And turn that thing off, will you? Who the hell goes to hear a dance DJ spin, then comes to a beach to listen to classical music?”

The girl frowned but turned off the music. I lay back on the cold sand, closing my eyes. I heard the soft waves lapping the shore. My head filled with pale green. I heard the girl moving. I prayed she was leaving. But I felt her drop beside me. My world darkened as the whiskey and the usual lack of sleep started to pull me under.

“What do you feel when you mix your music?” she asked. How the hell she thought her little interview was a good idea right now was beyond me.

Yet, surprisingly, I found myself answering her question. “I don’t feel.” I cracked one eye open when she didn’t say anything. She was looking down at me. She had the biggest brown eyes I’d ever seen. Dark hair pulled off her face in a ponytail. Full lips and smooth skin.

“Then that’s the problem.” She smiled, but the smile looked nothing but sad. Pitying. “The best music must be felt. By the creator. By the listener. Every part of it from creation to ear must be wrapped in nothing but feelings.” Some weird expression crossed over her face, but hell if I knew what it meant.

Her words were a blade to my chest. I hadn’t expected her harsh comment. And I hadn’t expected the blunt trauma that she seemed to deliver right to my heart. Like she’d taken a butcher’s knife and sliced her way through my soul.

My body itched to get up and run. To pluck out her assessment of my music from my memory. But instead I forced a laugh, and spat, “Go back home, little Dorothy. Back to where music means something. Where it’s felt.”

“Dorothy was from Kansas.” She glanced away. “I’m not.”

“Then go back to wherever the hell you’re from,” I snapped. Crossing my arms over my chest, I hunkered down into the sand and shut my eyes, trying to block out the cold wind that was picking up and slapping my skin, and her words that were still stabbing at my heart.

I never let anything get to me like this. Not anymore. I just needed some sleep. I didn’t want to go back to my mum’s house here in Brighton, and my flat in London was too far away. So hopefully the cops wouldn’t find me here and kick me off the beach.

With my eyes closed, I said, “Thanks for the midnight critique, but as the fastest-rising DJ in Europe, with the best clubs in the world begging for me to spin at their decks—all at nineteen—I think I’ll ignore your extensive notes and just keep on living my sweet as fuck life.”

The girl sighed, but she didn’t say anything else.

The next thing I knew, the sun was burning its light into my eyes. I flinched when I opened them. The screech of swarming seagulls slammed into my head. I sat up, seeing an empty beach and the sun high in the sky. I ran my hands down my face and groaned at the hangover that was kicking in. My stomach growled, desperate for a full English breakfast with copious cups of black tea.

As I stood, something fell from my lap. A blanket lay on the sand at my feet. The blanket I’d seen beside the American girl in the purple dress.

The one she’d been wrapped in last night.

I picked it up, a light fragrance drifted into my nose. Sweet. Addictive. I glanced around me. The girl was gone.

She’d left her blanket. No. She’d covered me with it. “Your music has no soul.” A hard clenching feeling pulled in my stomach at the memory of her words. So I chased it away like I did anything that made me feel. Caging it deep inside.

Then I took my arse home.



A WISH FOR US – Out June 11th!
Goodreads | Kindle



Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.

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Cover Reveal – A WISH FOR US by Tillie Cole

Wow! Take a look at this cover!! I didn’t even read the synopsis before adding this to my TBR because of how beautiful it looks! Check it out (with the synopsis) below.


From the author who brought you A Thousand Boy Kisses comes the new emotional novel, A Wish For Us.

A story of music. A story of healing. A story of love conquering all.

Nineteen-year-old Cromwell Dean is the rising star of electronic dance music. Thousands of people adore him. But no one knows him. No one sees the color of his heart.

Until the girl in the purple dress. She sees through the walls he has built to the empty darkness within.

When Cromwell leaves behind the gray skies of England to study music in the South Carolina heat, the last thing he expects is to see her again. And he certainly doesn’t expect that she’ll stay in his head like a song on repeat.

Bonnie Farraday lives for music. She lets every note into her heart, and she doesn’t understand how someone as talented as Cromwell can avoid doing the same. He’s hiding from his past, and she knows it. She tries to stay away from him, but something keeps calling her back.

Bonnie is the burst of color in Cromwell’s darkness. He’s the beat that makes her heart skip.

But when a shadow falls over Bonnie, it’s up to Cromwell to be her light, in the only way he knows how. He must help her find the lost song in her fragile heart. He must keep her strong with a symphony only he can compose.

A symphony of hope.

A symphony of love.

A symphony of them.



A WISH FOR US – Out June 11th!
Goodreads | Kindle



Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.

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Review – THE WATERMARK by Tiffany Reisz

The anthology, Exposed, contains a brand new and super sexy story from Tiffany Reisz called The Watermark, check out my review below and get one-clicking!

Jason “Still” Waters’ life looks perfect from the outside—money, fame, and the words “World Champion Bull-Rider” after his name. But Jason has a secret, one he never planned on telling anybody…until he meets Simone. She’s the kinky girl of his dreams…and his conservative family’s worst nightmare.

When your favourite author has a new short story in an anthology, you immediately one-click that book and dive right in. I admittedly skipped straight to The Watermark by Tiffany Reisz (because fave) and I loved it so much!

For fans of her Original Sinners series, remember Simone? Søren’s sometimes sub? This story is all about her and a sexy secretly kinky cowboy. I think Simone is such a great character and she was the perfect girl to go on this journey with Jason. When we first met Jason I got zero Dom vibes from him, but I soon saw a different side to him and DAMN!! He can punish me anytime. Wait…did I just say that out loud?

The Watermark was such a great story with so much packed in to it — it definitely wasn’t lacking with being a short. And luckily for us, in October, The Watermark will be released as a full length novel titled Picture Perfect Cowboy, with lots of extra scenes, and more Master S! *dreamy eyes* Bring it on, Ms Reisz!

*ARC received in exchange for an honest review*



EXPOSED- Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle

PICTURE PERFECT COWBOY – Out October 2018!
Goodreads | currently no pre-order



Tiffany Reisz lives on Mt. Hood in Oregon in her secret volcanic lair with her husband (author Andrew Shaffer) and two cats (one good, one evil).

If she couldn’t write, she would die. Probably in a volcano eruption.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Review – DRIVE by Kate Stewart

A tad bit late with getting this review up…but this was joint first place with History Is All You Left Me by Adam Silvera for being my favourite read of 2017! I’m sure most of you have already read it, but if not, check out Drive by Kate Stewart!

Music . . . the heart’s greatest librarian.

The average song is three and a half minutes long; those three and a half minutes could lead to a slow blink, a glimpse of the past, or catapult the soul into heart-shattering nostalgia.

At the height of my career, I had the life I wanted, the life I’d always envisioned. I’d found my tempo, my rhythm. Then I received a phone call that left me off key.

You see, my favorite songs had a way of playing simultaneously. I was in love with one man’s beats and another’s lyrics. But when it came to the soundtrack of a life, how could anyone choose a favorite song? So, to erase any doubt, I ditched my first-class ticket and decided to take a drive, fixed on the rearview.

Two days.

One playlist.

And the long road home to the man who was waiting for me.

In 2017 everyone went crazy for Drive by Kate Stewart. I had it sat on my Kindle, and after a while I decided to pick it up and give it a go. I devoured that book. I literally could not put it down. It was gritty and addictive, and I couldn’t get enough of Stella’s story. I was desperate to find out WHO (you will understand what I mean once you start to read the book).

I fell in love a few times during this crazy, emotional ride, too. The characters were all so well fleshed out, they felt real. I lived alongside them throughout all their ups and downs, all their tears and triumphs. I felt it all. And that’s my favourite thing with books, ones that make me feel, and Drive had ALL the feels!

I was gripped and on the edge of my seat throughout the entire book, and I have to say, I was extremely happy with the outcome. Drive ended up dualing it out with one other book to be my favourite book of 2017, and no other book even came close. An absolute must read!

*ARC received in exchange for an honest review*



DRIVE – Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle | Paperback



Kate Stewart lives in Charleston, S.C. with her husband, Nick, and her naughty beagle, Sadie. A native of Dallas, Kate moved to Charleston three weeks after her first visit, dropping her career of 8 years, and declaring it her creative muse. Kate pens messy, sexy, angst-filled contemporary romance as well as romantic comedy and erotic suspense because it’s what she loves as a reader. A lover of all things ’80s and ’90s, especially John Hughes films and rap, she dabbles a little in photography, can knit a simple stitch scarf for necessity only and does a horrible job of playing the ukulele. Aside from running a mile without collapsing, traveling is the only other must on her bucket list. On occasion, she does very well at vodka.

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Review – THE LUCKY ONES by Tiffany Reisz

The latest Tiffany Reisz gothic suspense novel was just as addicting as her previous novels. Check out my review of The Lucky Ones!

They called themselves “the lucky ones.” They were seven children either orphaned or abandoned by their parents and chosen by legendary philanthropist and brain surgeon Dr. Vincent Capello to live in The Dragon, his almost magical beach house on the Oregon Coast. Allison was the youngest of the lucky ones living an idyllic life with her newfound family…until the night she almost died, and was then whisked away from the house and her adopted family forever.

Now, thirteen years later, Allison receives a letter from Roland, Dr. Capello’s oldest son, warning her that their father is ill and in his final days. Allison determines she must go home again and confront the ghosts of her past. She’s determined to find out what really happened that fateful night–was it an accident or, as she’s always suspected, did one of her beloved family members try to kill her?

But digging into the past can reveal horrific truths, and when Allison pieces together the story of her life, she’ll learns the terrible secret at the heart of the family she once loved but never really knew.

A vivid and suspenseful tale of family, grief, love—and the dark secrets that bind everything together—Tiffany Reisz’s latest is enthralling to the final page.

Can Tiffany Reisz do no wrong? This author seems to knock it out of the park with every single book, even when I go into the book unsure as to whether I will like it or not. I always end up instantly gripped by her words, and her storylines have me devouring the pages and constantly desperate for more.

For the first half of The Lucky Ones, I was convinced the Capello’s were the most perfect family in the world. It was impossible not to love each one of them wholeheartedly, but as I read more, I became very unsure and torn between “I love them so much” and “they’re all crazy!!!” No matter what happened, that soft spot I had developed for them remained, and I won’t say which side won out by the end, I’ll leave it up to you to discover for yourselves.

There were some absolutely fantastic characters with intriguing back stories which I would love to see more of in any possible future books, though I’m not sure how likely that is.

What I do know for definite, is that I will continue to read every word this author puts out there, and no doubt I will love each and every one.

*ARC received in exchange for an honest review*



*Though all of these books can be read as standalones, they are all linked (and fantastic) so I suggest reading them all*

THE BOURBON THIEF – Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle | Paperback

THE NIGHT MARK – Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle | Paperback

THE LUCKY ONES – Out Now!
Goodreads | Kindle | Paperback



Tiffany Reisz lives on Mt. Hood in Oregon in her secret volcanic lair with her husband (author Andrew Shaffer) and two cats (one good, one evil).

If she couldn’t write, she would die. Probably in a volcano eruption.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Review – ORIGINAL SINNERS (THE WHITE YEARS) by Tiffany Reisz

If you have yet to pick up the Original Sinners series by Tiffany Reisz, 1-what the hell are you waiting for? 2-step away from this review! The series is split in to two parts, the first four books are titled The Red Years (you can find my spoiler free review for that HERE), and then there’s the next four books, The White Years. This is my review for The White Years, so if you are yet to have read any of these books, I wouldn’t risk any possible Red Years spoilers. If you have read the first four books and want to know whether it’s worth moving on to the next four, you’re in the right place! Check out my review below. (The synopsis is for the first book – The Saint – only to avoid any spoilers.)

In the beginning, there was him.

Gutsy, green-eyed Eleanor never met a rule she didn’t want to break. She’s sick of her mother’s zealotry and the confines of Catholic school, and declares she’ll never go to church again. But her first glimpse of beautiful, magnetic Father Marcus Stearns and his lust-worthy Italian motorcycle is an epiphany. Suddenly, daily Mass seems like a reward, and her punishment is the ache she feels when they’re apart. He is intelligent and insightful and he seems to know her intimately at her very core. Eleanor is consumed—and even she knows that can’t be right.

But when one desperate mistake nearly costs Eleanor everything, it is Søren who steps in to save her. She vows to repay him with complete obedience…and a whole world opens before her as he reveals to her his deepest secrets.

Danger can be managed—pain, welcomed. Everything is about to begin.

After being swept away by The Red Years (the first four books in the Original Sinners series) I strengthened my addiction of this world by jumping straight in and devouring The White Years books. As if I didn’t love these characters enough before, my heart is now bursting at the seams to try and contain them. The White Years sees present time Søren, Nora, and Kingsley take us on a journey into their pasts, so we finally get to see for ourselves, exactly how our favourite kinksters came to be.

Whereas The Red Years gave me 5 stars across the board, The White Years was a mixed bag. The Saint had my emotions all over the place. I started this book and was messaging my friend saying “if this book is going where I think it’s going then I can’t continue, I just can’t put myself through that!!!!” She basically told me to shut up and keep reading. And I’m so glad I did. The 5 star streak was going strong with this book!

The King was without a doubt my favourite book of the whole series. This is where a new rating comes in to play – 6 stars. There was honestly nothing about this book I didn’t love. It is, of course, a book about the one and only Kingsley Edge. If you don’t love him yet, you will after this book, mark my words. Next up was The Virgin. Now, to even the scales a bit, this one was a 4 star read for me. Nora in the convent away from Søren unfortunately didn’t really interest me, BUT that’s quite possibly because the rest of the book was Kingsley and Jules, and I was simply desperate for more from them.

The series was brought to an end with The Queen, and it was yet another 5 stars from me. The most perfect way to end what has been the most incredible series I think I have ever read. Of course, the world of the 8th Circle doesn’t end here, there are novellas and short stories, and also deleted scenes, all which add their own touch of magic to the Original Sinners series, but I’ll save that for another review.

All in all? This is a truly unforgettable series which I recommend 100%! Everyone needs a little Søren, Nora and Kingsley in their life!

“Welcome to the Kingdom.”



The Siren #1 – Out Now!
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The Angel #2 – Out Now!
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The Prince #3 – Out Now!
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The Mistress #4 – Out Now!
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The Saint #5 – Out Now!
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The King #6 – Out Now!
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The Virgin #7 – Out Now!
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The Queen #8 – Out Now!
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Tiffany Reisz lives on Mt. Hood in Oregon in her secret volcanic lair with her husband (author Andrew Shaffer) and two cats (one good, one evil).

If she couldn’t write, she would die. Probably in a volcano eruption.

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Review – ORIGINAL SINNERS (THE RED YEARS) by Tiffany Reisz

For years people told me to read Tiffany Reisz’s Original Sinners series; yeah, yeah, sure I will, I always said! But for YEARS my copy of The Siren just sat there. Unread. Fast forward to January 2018 and I finally did it. I picked it up, and within 5 days, I had devoured the first 4 books in this series, known as The Red Years. I’ve only posted the synopsis for book 1 below as I don’t want to give anything away, but my review is a completely spoiler free review (as always) of all 4 books.

Notorious Nora Sutherlin is famous for her delicious works of erotica, each one more popular with readers than the last. But her latest manuscript is different—more serious, more personal—and she’s sure it’ll be her breakout book… if it ever sees the light of day.

Zachary Easton holds Nora’s fate in his well-manicured hands. The demanding British editor agrees to handle the book on one condition: he wants complete control. Nora must rewrite the entire novel to his exacting standards—in six weeks—or it’s no deal.

Nora’s grueling writing sessions with Zach are draining… and shockingly arousing. And a dangerous former lover has her wondering which is more torturous—staying away from him… or returning to his bed?

Nora thought she knew everything about being pushed to your limits. But in a world where passion is pain, nothing is ever that simple.

Wow, wow, and wow some more. I have read many books over the years containing sex. Many books filled to the brim with BDSM. But no books quite like Ms Tiffany Reisz’s Original Sinners series. Friends and followers of my blog will know I have suffered terribly with book funks over recent years. Struggling to pick up books by my most favourite authors. I lost my love of the written word, and I was honestly scared I would never get it back. Then one evening, in early January 2018, I had a random little urge to start The Siren, book 1 in the Original Sinners (The Red Years) series. What could it hurt? Worst case was I wouldn’t get in to it like most other books I tried. But what actually happened, had both myself and my friends celebrating.

Not only *could* I read, but I was *desperate* for more. I honestly can’t remember the last time I felt this intense need to read. Every spare second I had, my kindle was in my hand. Before work, after work, in bed until my eyes physically couldn’t stay open any longer. Søren, Kingsley and Nora consumed me, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. While I was lost inside the pages of these beautiful books, I found the most wonderful thing in the world – my love of reading. From the beginning of book 1, until the end of book 4, this series was nothing less than stunning, sexy, sensual, and scintillating. A true masterpiece of literary fiction.

I would be lying if I said that Søren and Kingsley (our two male main characters) hadn’t worked their way into more than a few of my dreams over the last week and a half. The Original Sinners are intensely sexy. Without a doubt the sexiest books I’ve ever read. I find a lot of books these days are all sex and no substance, yet another reason I got bored of reading last year, but Tiffany Reisz manages to fill your head with kinky fantasies, and fill your heart with the love of characters who are so fleshed out you would swear they are real people. I cried with them, I laughed with them, I was scared with them, and I loved so incredibly hard with them.

Tiffany Reisz weaves some very strong magic in her words, and I cannot thank her enough for the gift she gave me when I turned that very first page and walked into the world of The 8th Circle.



The Siren #1 – Out Now!
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The Angel #2 – Out Now!
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The Prince #3 – Out Now!
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The Mistress #4 – Out Now!
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Tiffany Reisz lives on Mt. Hood in Oregon in her secret volcanic lair with her husband (author Andrew Shaffer) and two cats (one good, one evil).

If she couldn’t write, she would die. Probably in a volcano eruption.

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Review – SICK FUX by Tillie Cole

This is one book you do not want to miss.

sick fux

When Ellis Earnshaw and Heathan James met as children, they couldn’t have been more different. Ellis was loud and beautiful – all blond hair, bright laughs and smiles. Heathan was dark and brooding, and obsessed with watching things die.

The pair forged an unlikely friendship, unique and strange. Until they were ripped apart by the sick cruelty of others, separated for years, both locked in a perpetual hell.

Eleven years later, Heathan is back for his girl. Back from a place from which he thought there was no return. Back to seek revenge on those who wronged them.

Time has made Heathan’s soul darker, polluted with hatred and the thirst for blood.

Time has made Ellis a shell of her former self, a little girl lost in the vastness of her pain.

As Heathan pulls Ellis out of her mental prison, reviving the essence of who she once was, down the rabbit hole they will go.

With malice in their hearts and vengeance in their veins, they will seek out the ones who hurt and destroyed them.

One at a time.

Each one more deadly than the last.

Tick Tock.

Dark Contemporary Romance. Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, disturbingly sensitive and taboo subjects, offensive language and very mature topics. Recommended for ages 18 and over.

There is no denying this is Tillie Cole’s most messed up and crazy book to date. Which is saying something considering I’ve read all Tillie’s dark and twisted books. I also don’t think I’ll ever be able to see or hear anything Alice In Wonderland related without thinking of this book straight away. So get ready. Drink the potion and fall down the rabbit hole. Tick tock. It’s time for tea.

I loved young Ellis and Heathen. Their romance started so pure and sweet and innocent, but that was quickly taken from them. Their journey becoming one of devastating heartbreak and pain. I felt physically sick at times. It was a really hard story to read at times, but I needed to see it through to the end, see every horrific moment, every scar, every twist, every act of depravity, all to reach the gratifying times of well deserved revenge Dolly and Rabbit sought out.

I had no idea how this book would end. I was on the edge of my seat. There were so many possibilities of where the book could take these two characters, and I was terrified for them. A traditional HEA would not do this story justice, and I think the author definitely chose the right path for this book to end on. And now it’s over… I really REALLY hope we get to see more from various secondary characters in the future. This could ideally turn in to a hugely addictive series of standalones. There are some very fascinating stories waiting to be told, so I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed that Tillie Cole finds the inspiration to bring those stories to life.

*ARC received in exchange for an honest review*



SICK FUX – Out October 9th!
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Excerpt – SICK FUX by Tillie Cole

Tillie Cole describes this book as her darkest and most f*cked up book to date. Anyone else both insanely excited and terrified at the same time? Check out an excerpt to her next release, Sick Fux.

sick fux

When Ellis Earnshaw and Heathan James met as children, they couldn’t have been more different. Ellis was loud and beautiful – all blond hair, bright laughs and smiles. Heathan was dark and brooding, and obsessed with watching things die.

The pair forged an unlikely friendship, unique and strange. Until they were ripped apart by the sick cruelty of others, separated for years, both locked in a perpetual hell.

Eleven years later, Heathan is back for his girl. Back from a place from which he thought there was no return. Back to seek revenge on those who wronged them.

Time has made Heathan’s soul darker, polluted with hatred and the thirst for blood.

Time has made Ellis a shell of her former self, a little girl lost in the vastness of her pain.

As Heathan pulls Ellis out of her mental prison, reviving the essence of who she once was, down the rabbit hole they will go.

With malice in their hearts and vengeance in their veins, they will seek out the ones who hurt and destroyed them.

One at a time.

Each one more deadly than the last.

Tick Tock.

Dark Contemporary Romance. Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, disturbingly sensitive and taboo subjects, offensive language and very mature topics. Recommended for ages 18 and over.

Please note : this is excerpt is unedited and subject to change.

I placed the foot of my cane on the floor and looked to the left. The sound of light breathing came from around the corner. I made to move, but my heart slammed into a fast beat, stopping my feet in their tracks. My nostrils flared as I closed my eyes and tried to suck in deep breaths. I never did this, never had this kind of reaction to anything. Not in eleven years. Not when I was trapped in darkness. Not even when the guards came to “meet the young kid.” Not when we got out—bloodily, savagely, darkly. Especially not when my knife plunged into the guards’ hearts and I watched the life fade from their eyes, the pure fascination of losing one’s life essence occupying my mind.
But this was Dolly. The only person I’d ever given a shit about.
A slick tar pumped through my black heart as I thought of her. She was the blood that gave me life.
I had no idea what state I would find her in. Whether or not her fragile mind had been destroyed. Whether or not her glass heart had been shattered. No hope of salvation.
I had no idea if my only reason for living could be saved. I shook with venomous anger when I let my mind imagine the hell those sadistic cunts would have put her through in my absence. But Chapel’s words rang in my ears . . . Unleash the anger only on those who deserve it. Let it build within your heart like a well swelling with water . . . then unleash hell on those who took your freedom.
Opening my eyes, I breathed through my rage and silently rounded the corner . . . I stopped. There she was, sitting in a chair. I sucked in a breath and heard it rattle in my ears. Her hair. Her hair was pulled back into a long braid, the woven strands falling to her lower back. And she was dressed in black. Long, baggy sleeves covered her arms.
Motherfucking black. Dolly didn’t belong in black. Only color. Blue and white and gold and motherfucking pink.
I edged around the perimeter of the room until I faced her. My heart tore down the center and I had to hold back a loud snarl when I saw her curled up on the seat, a thick blanket over her thin legs and waist as she stared lifelessly out of the window. The window that overlooked the once-manicured lawns, now nothing but high-reaching weeds and too-bushy trees. I looked across at what she was watching, in the direction of what held her so captivated.
My heart was severed completely, the two parts of its flesh repelling the other, trying to escape the rage and pain and fucking consuming darkness.
She was staring at the spot where we used to play as kids. Where she had found me all those years ago, ripping the colorful butterfly apart in my hands. I moved into her line of sight, but her blue eyes didn’t lift to meet mine, just stared through me as though I wasn’t even there. I crouched down and studied her face. Porcelain skin. Full lips. Fucking perfection.
But there was no life left in her.
I had never felt fear before, but I imagined the sinking hole I felt dropping in my stomach was something like it. A sinking feeling that Dolly had gone to a place from which there was no escape, a prisoner in her own mind.
Fragility consumed.
“Dolly darlin,’” I rasped, my voice fucking breaking.
Twenty-one. She was twenty-one and more beautiful than I could ever have imagined.
Perfection.
My living doll.
A strand of hair lay over her face. My fingers clenched and unclenched as I tried to force myself to touch her. But I couldn’t. I hadn’t touched or been touched in years. I didn’t know how to anymore. Allergic to human affection. Repulsed by the degrading feeling of touch.
I . . . I . . . I couldn’t.
As I opened my mouth to speak to Dolly again, a loud gasp sailed through the air behind her. I straightened, gripping my cane, to see a familiar old face appear. I watched, the sinking hole quickly replaced by dark satisfaction as the blood drained from her face. “Good Lord,” she whispered as I smoothed down my black cravat and vest.
I glared at the bitch. Leaning casually on my cane, I said, “More like Lucifer, I would think.” I nodded in her direction “To you, anyhow.”
Mrs. Jenkins swallowed and tried to back out of the room. “Ah-ah,” I tutted and shook my head. She immediately stilled, eyes fixed on mine.
“He . . . Heathan James . . . it’s . . . it’s not possible . . .” she stammered and ran her eyes over me. Every inch of me.
“Rabbit.” The bitch flinched at my correction. “I am Rabbit. The motherfucking White Rabbit. So never fucking utter that peasant name to me again.”
Her skin paled, and her eyes fell to Dolly sitting on the chair. Dolly still hadn’t moved. I shifted my grip on the box I had brought inside, about to hold it out to Mrs. Jenkins when she asked, “How are you here?”
I threw the box across the room. It landed right at her feet. “Dress her.”
“Wh-what?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.
I pointed to the box at her feet. “Dress her. It wasn’t a request.” Mrs. Jenkins shook as she picked up the box and moved to where Dolly sat. Dolly didn’t look at her either. Mrs. Jenkins opened the lid of the box and gasped again.
Her old, wrinkled eyes snapped up to mine. “No—”
Before she had even finished the sentence, I had reached into my pocket and pulled out my knife. I ran the flat side of the blade down my cheek. Slowly. Controlled. Watching her terrified gaze track my every move. “You’d best do as I ask, Mrs. Jenkins. My patience and tolerance for you appear to be at an all-time low.



SICK FUX – Out October 9th!
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