A Bookworm Review by Ana
Come a Little Closer
I give this book 5 stars!
Your past can be your worst enemie and you have to try and break free from it. It might not be an easy thing but you can’t give up. Fight for yourself…
Have a look at the blurb:
I met Sarah at the airport.
And dressed to the nines.
Not my type at all–which is what attracted me to her.
My flight had been canceled and I mistakenly assumed hers had too.
One drink leads to casual conversation–she’d recently been canned and I’d just attended my ex-fiancée’s wedding.
Can you say–how about another drink?
Three drinks leads to getting a little closer–I slide a hand on her thigh and my fingertips under the hem of her skirt.
Five drinks leads to a proposition–a hotel room and nothing more.
After an unforgettable night, I wake up alone and pissed as hell.
How was I to know my self-proclaimed one-night stand would bite me in the ass?
That Sarah would jeopardize everything I’d worked for.
That Sarah wasn’t really Sarah.
But then “Sarah” ends up on the same tropical island as I do.
Can you say–payback?
For someone that used to hate reading let’s just say that today I’m addicted. I used to say that reading was a waste of time and the fact that I hated the smell of books was another minus point to add to that reason. But after 3 years of reading non stop I’m a goner.
The fact that knowing new authors, authors that take our opinions in consideration was a way to make me want more and more.
Kim Karr is one of the authors that made my love for book flourish and her books held me hostage. Her writing is hot and sassy, sweet and heartfelt with a few bumps on the road.
Come a Little Closer is her latest release and tells the stories of Sadie and Jaxson.
Sadie is a lost girl trying to find her way, but how can she do it? How can you become a better person when you don’t have the strength to do so? Losing her job was the first step in that direction but how can you move forward when your past keeps bringing you down.
Jaxson has his dream job. He’s a photographer and loves his job. When he was selected to become the lead photographer for Sports Illustrated he just hit gold. Leaving everything behind to follow his dream was the right thing to do. Or not…
Let me just say that the way this book started left me hooked beyond repair…
Superb plot, super engaging and intense, with some hot stuff into the mix.
The interation between the characters started in a way but with every flip of a page you could witness the change.
The story progressed in a way that made me smile, cry, get really mad or in love. How can broken person start to heal? I wanted to get into the book and shake some characters or hit them all at once… Things were happening and I felt helpless.
This book presented us with love, friendship, desire, second chances as well as betrayal, deceive, lies and punishments.
I’ve wanted to read Jaxson’s story since I’ve read “The Thing About Love” and I’m so glad I did. It was a beautifull story with ups and downs that made me dream. Can’t wait for more…
Kim you rock. Your words, your passion to create this masterpieces made me dream and freak out at the same time. I always want more and now I’m thinking what you’ll write next…
I voluntarily reviewed an Advance Reader Copy of this book.
A Few Teasers:
There was a dominance in his body language I couldn’t deny.
Heeding his invitation, I stopped before him. He stood and his towering height overwhelmed me, but when he pulled the empty barstool out and grinned at me, I felt electrically charged. “Hi.”
Slowly, I climbed onto it. For some reason, I couldn’t stop my knees from wobbling. “Hi,” I tried to respond, but it sounded more like a squeak.
The way he was looking at me made me feel like I was the only person in the room. I opened my mouth to say something more but found no words. Instead, my breath hissed out as a slow leak.
What was I doing?
I should have been running in the other direction. I didn’t have time for careless flirting. I had a job to do. One I knew I would never really be able to do.
Settling myself on the luxurious white leather stool, I crossed one leg over the other. As soon as I did, his heavy stare rolled over my face and then down my body. It felt like he was surveying every inch of me.
Suddenly, I wasn’t cold anymore. Heat roared through me like a fire being doused with gasoline.
The way he was looking at me was anything but subtle.
He was anything but subtle.
I didn’t care. I didn’t want subtle. I wanted bold.
A flash of thunder cut through the window, illuminating his face. His stunning features. Hard jaw. High cheekbones. Strong forehead. Full and curved mouth. Edible lips. And those eyes, they grabbed me and wouldn’t let go—like he saw the blackness inside me and wanted to add some light.
Ridiculous, I knew.
That smug grin he was wearing spread across his lips as he sat back down. The movement caused his dark hair to flip forward over his eyes. He pushed it away, and the gesture broke the trance I was in. Thick-lashed eyes shined as brilliant as the brightest lights I’d ever seen and amusement seemed to sparkle in their dark color.
All of a sudden I felt dizzy. Lost. Reborn. Taken back in time.
He was Eros.
I was Aphrodite.
He was Cupid.
I was Venus.
I let my bag drop to my feet beside my suitcase.
He twisted in my direction. “Crazy weather,” he said in a voice that was deep, cultured, sexy.
It made me shiver.
Half a nervous laugh snuck out of me. “You’re not kidding.”
Out of nowhere, the bartender set two heavy crystal glasses of amber-colored liquid in front of stock-photo guy and myself, and it shocked me. I hadn’t ordered anything, most especially not whiskey.
“Should I add this to your tab?” the bartender directed, and not toward me.
“Please,” stock-photo guy answered.
Embarrassment washed over me. He was with someone and I had misread him completely.
Hopping to my feet, I felt unsteady in my heels. “I’m so sorry. I should have asked if this seat was taken. I’ll get out of your way.”
Moving fast, he rose to his full height. He was close. So close. Floored by over six feet of hotness, his scent hit me immediately. Something manly, with a hint of the ocean. I took a moment to breathe it in and tried not to wince when the pain in my ribs struck.
His strong hands steadied my hips. “No, don’t leave. The drink is for you.”
And I felt. Felt his touch race down my hips, knot in my stomach, and make my toes curl.
If he was Cupid, I’d been struck by his arrow.
My gaze darted up, up, up, and when our eyes locked, my pulse started to race. “I can’t. I’m waiting for a flight,” I stupidly said.
He was a bad idea.
Staying was a bad idea.
This whole thing was a bad idea—and yet it already felt so good.
He dipped his head, those dark eyes going liquid with a heat I felt between my thighs. “In case you haven’t looked at the monitors, no one is going anywhere right now. All the planes are grounded until morning.”
I laughed, and it wasn’t an act. “I know that,” I replied. “What I meant was that drinking is a bad idea when I have such a long night ahead of me.”
His eyes flickered to my lips before returning to mine. “Exactly. It’s going to be a very long night, which is why drinking seems like a really good idea.”
No alarm bells rang. Instead, I smiled. I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Sit,” he said, moving back to his stool.
For a moment I forgot everything and allowed myself to get lost in the darkest, bluest eyes I’d ever seen. Without thinking anything through, I sat back down. “Maybe just one.”
The look he gave me screamed sinful bad boy.
“Reading Hotlanta?” I asked, pointing to his bag.
With a shake of his head, he blew my comment off. “More like reading crap.”
Okay, I had no response to that, and luckily I didn’t need one.
He lifted his glass. “To passing time,” he toasted.
The way he looked at me when he spoke made my pulse jump and nipples pop. Ignoring my body’s reaction to him, I lifted my own. “To passing time,” I repeated, clinking his glass.
I didn’t really have time.
I had a job to do.
I couldn’t stay with him.
I was stranded at the airport, after all.
I lowered my glass and sighed.
“Tough day?” he asked after taking more like a gulp of his whiskey.
“Yes,” I responded truthfully.
He took another long sip of his drink and let his eyes linger on my thighs. “Want to talk about it?” he asked.
In that moment I was no longer Sarah, the lonely rich wife or the wandering mistress or the high-priced call girl I had been sent here to be. I wasn’t acting. I didn’t want to. I was just being me. Albeit, a well dressed-up version of myself, but still me.
Following his lead, I practically guzzled the potent liquor. Once I’d drained it, I figured why not talk. Setting my empty glass down, I told him, “I had to make a decision today and I have no idea if I made the right one.”
In truth, I already knew it was the wrong one.
Being here was wrong.
Being with him was wrong.
And yet, talking to him felt right.
I shouldn’t have come here to steal what wasn’t mine, no matter the reason. It wasn’t me. I didn’t earn what these men had. And I hated myself for even thinking about taking from them.
It was then I looked into his eyes and saw that very familiar feeling of loathing. Those dark eyes I thought had been filled with mirth were actually brooding.
What did he hate himself for?
I wanted to know.
Was I a way for him to forget? If so, did it matter? Either way, I wanted to be the one to ease his pain.
And I had no idea why.
He downed the rest of his glass and signaled the bartender. “You know,” he said, “sometimes I think the only way to get by in this world is to step off for a while.”
I glanced at his bags on the floor. “Is that what you’re doing? Stepping off for a while?”
The bartender placed the entire bottle of Macallan Rare Cask in front of us, and hot photo-guy picked it up right away. “Something like that,” he answered as he poured. “My ex-fiancée got married yesterday, and I was there.”
“Ouch,” I said.
He nodded and finished pouring. “Yeah, hence the heavy drinking. So what’s your story?”
It felt wrong to lie, so I didn’t. I just didn’t tell the whole truth. “I was recently fired.”
“Ouch,” he offered back with a wicked grin and set the bottle down to hold out his hand. That strong, confident, dominant hand. “I’m Sundance.”
I raised a brow. “As in Butch Cassidy?”
“The very same. It’s a nickname, actually.”
I liked it.
I took his offered hand, and the electric current that ran up my arm was stronger than the alcohol flowing through my veins. “Sarah.” The lie slipped out, and I couldn’t take it back. Then again, I didn’t think it really mattered. “And stepping off for a while sounds like a really good idea.”
He leaned closer and lifted his glass. “So, Sarah, what are we going to do to make that happen?”
My brow lifted curiously. “I’m open to suggestions,” I said, the alcohol taking over where reason should have stepped in.
He drained his drink. “Are you?”
The way those two words came out sounded like an invitation. I was in the middle of downing my glass when I lowered it. “Yes, I am. I mean, within reason, of course.”
“Good to know.” He tossed me a panty-melting grin and poured a little more into his glass.
“Why? What do you have in mind?” Ignoring my one-drink rule, I drank a little more, knowing exactly what he had in mind. It was written all over his face—in the way his eyes seemed to have turned the darkest shade of blue, the way his sinful mouth curved ever-so-much, and the way he leaned in even closer to me.
When he was a breath away, he raised the sexiest brow in answer. “We could take this somewhere a little more private.”
I smiled back. A silent, “Yes, I’m interested.”
“One rule,” he cautioned.
Now I raised the brow. “Rules already? I don’t even know you,” I joked.
“And that’s the way I like it,” he deadpanned.
In that moment I knew what he wanted.
To be anonymous.
To be free.
And to get fucked.
I wanted all of those things, too.
He went on. “We don’t talk about our lives,” he murmured, kissing behind my ear.
I allowed my head to lull back, silently agreeing to his rule because even though he couldn’t possibly know it was the only way I could be with him, it was.
His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin of my throat, and I knew that somehow I had gone from the one doing the preying to the one being preyed on.
And I was okay with that.
Maybe stepping off for a while was exactly what I needed.
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About the author:
Kim Karr is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She grew up in Rochester, NY and now lives in Florida with her husband and four kids. She’s always had a love for reading books and writing. Being an English major in college, she wanted to teach at the college level but that was not to be. She went on to receive an MBA and became a project manager until quitting to raise her family. Kim currently works part-time with her husband and recently decided to embrace one of her biggest passions–writing.
Kim wears a lot of hats! Writer, book-lover, wife, soccer-mom, taxi driver, and the all around go-to person of her family. However, she always finds time to read. One of her favorite family outings was taking her kids when they were little to the bookstore or the library. Today, Kim‘s oldest child is seventeen and no longer goes with her on these, now rare and infrequent, outings. She finds that she doesn’t need to go on them anymore because she has the greatest device ever invented–a Kindle.
Kim likes to believe in soul mates, kindred spirits, true friends, and Happily-Ever-Afters. She loves to drink champagne, listen to music, and hopes to always stay young at heart.
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