My Booklandia

My Booklandia

Friday, July 28, 2017

BLOG TOUR REVIEW: Pretty New Doll by Ker Dukey and K. Webster

Pretty New Doll 
by K. Webster and Ker Dukey
Pretty Little Dolls #3
Publication Date: July 17, 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark Romance

Benny, broken, hurting, and alone
Lost his dolly, his love, his home.
Injured and searching, reborn anew,
He finds himself befriended by one who’s true.
Learning about the world, urges, and lust.
Finding a new future, a new dolly, is a must.
Then out of old pain, fresh prospects come to life,
Benny’s sick mind summons him, so his hand takes the knife.

Have you ever been so lost that you became a shadow? Lurking but not living. Existing in the background where no one notices you.
My doll betrayed me, killed me in more ways than she realized.
I’m watching, waiting, wanting.
One day soon she’ll give me back what she took away…
it’s funny how life works that way.

Sonja's Review

I was hooked on Ms. Dukey and Ms. Webster's Pretty Little Dolls series from the first book and when I saw the announcement for Pretty New Doll, I was beyond excited! I couldn't wait to read it and now that I'm all done, I can honestly say these authors can still surprise me. Pretty New Doll was a bit different than the first two books, but I enjoyed reading it nevertheless. 

I don't want to give away too much about the characters, so I'm just going to skip over that part and go straight to where I talk about the book and how it made me feel without any spoilers.

Pretty New Doll is definitely darker than Pretty Stolen Dolls and Pretty Lost Dolls. It's messed up and disturbing, but not in a bad way, more of just a - Wow - way. I liked that about even if there were moments that gave me pause and made me cringe a little because it was definitely never boring and it made me feel. It was a darkly, twisty, sexy read and I'm looking forward to whatever comes next! 

Pretty New Doll should be read after the first two books, it's told from multiple points of view, and it will leave you wanting more. 

~ ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Stars

About K. Webster

K Webster2
K Webster is the author of dozens romance books in many different genres including contemporary romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, and erotic romance. When not spending time with her husband of twelve years and two adorable children, she’s active on social media connecting with her readers. Her other passions besides writing include reading and graphic design. K can always be found in front of her computer chasing her next idea and taking action. She looks forward to the day when she will see one of her titles on the big screen. You can easily find K Webster on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads! Website: Newsletter:

About Ker Dukey

My books all tend to be darker romance, edge of you seat, angst filled reads. My advice to my readers when starting one of my titles…prepare for the unexpected. I have always had a passion for storytelling, whether it be through lyrics or bed time stories with my sisters growing up. My mum would always have a book in her hand when I was young and passed on her love for reading, inspiring me to venture into writing my own. I tend to have a darker edge to my writing. Not all love stories are made from light; some are created in darkness but are just as powerful and worth telling. When I’m not lost in the world of characters I love spending time with my family. I’m a mum and that comes first in my life but when I do get down time I love attending music concerts or reading events with my younger sister.


BLOG TOUR REVIEW: Malentendido by Mara White

Malentiendido (Misunderstood)
by Mara White
Publication Date: July 22, 2017
Genres: Contemporary, Taboo, Romance

Purchase: Amazon

Whatever force made Lucky, either God or the Universe, wrapped him so tightly around my heart that sometimes I’m suffocating. Biologically, we are made of too many similar parts, yet our chemistry is like a meteor shower, raining bright sparks of light into the dark night. But it’s not our biology or chemistry that worries me the most, it’s the physics of our love that goes against the cosmos.

Lia's Review

If you have not read the first book in Mara White's Maldeamores (Lovesick) series, stop right now and go read that one first, these stories do not standalone. Now with that being out of the way, this book was as forbidden and addictive as the first one. While the subject matter may put some people off, I personally found this book to be a completely well thought out, beautiful love story. 

I had never anticipated there being a sequel, and was left with a massive book hangover by book one. These stories pushed my boundaries and pushed me out of my comfort zone, but in the best possible way. Like I said, it may not be for some people, so proceed with caution. But if you give it a chance, this book will suck you in, completely.

Mara White is a talented author, and weaved Malentendido with such heart, it kept me flipping the pages, engrossed and completely besotted with Lucky and Bey this entire book. 

~ ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Stars

Four garbage bags full of old clothes and books for the Goodwill. I promised Mami I’d clean out my room so she can use it as a real guest room. I leave the boxes under my bed for last; they’re filled with letters and pictures, yearbooks and school notes from when I was a kid.
Every letter from Lucky that I ever received lies under this bed. I’m afraid to even touch them. Irma says it brings bad luck to touch things that belonged to the dead. So all I really end up doing is shuffling the boxes around, dumping some half-filled ones into others to consolidate the mess. I’m emptying one when a letter floats to the floor. Lucky’s handwriting. His words. My heart and all of my skin immediately catch fire.
I stare at it without breathing for what seems like an eternity’s worth of cascading memories scrolling through my mind. I pick up Lucky’s words with a trembling hand and hold the yellowed paper to my heart first before raising it to my eyes.

You got me chewed up and spit out, girl. I can’t do this anymore. I’m twisted and fucked up, thinking about you more than is normal.
So what if I’m lit, who gives a fuck if I’m violent? Ese dolor is filling up inside me, sometimes spilling out and taking prisoners wherever it can find ’em. I’ve fucked people up for less than looking at you the wrong way. I can’t live my life like this. But I can’t stay away.
See, part of me wants to run and hide and take back everything we ever done, but there’s another side that won’t quit—that ain’t afraid of no shade they throw or no one.
Anybody would say that me and you ain’t right, that it’s evil—that we holding hands with the diablo mismo, going against God and what’s natural. I been around long enough to know that what I feel for you is real. People don’t get to feel that way, shit, sometimes never in their lives, so even if it’s wrong, I still want it—whatever it is that we got.
I know I’ll never give this to you. You got enough to deal with—y no quiero meterte en esa vaina. But still, for some reason, I need you to know how I feel about you.
Course we always been tight, you always been a mi lado far back as I can remember. Fuck. Then one day it changed and there was no going back from where my mind had taken me, from where my body was going. My feelings were moving forward no matter how much it cost me. Like the bridge done fell all the way down and there ain’t no going back across that water.
Sometimes I’m so lost, sometimes I get so fucking angry. And there’s nothing in this world that can soothe me ’cept the sound of your voice or the way that you touch me.
It’s like there’s a war taking place and the battleground is my life—there’s two sides to me, and all they ever do is fight.
Bey, I’m not a bad guy, it’s just that nobody gets me. I swear to fucking God. I’d do right by you if someday you’d let me.
No soy malo, sólo malentendido.
But you set that straight, Belén, you douse out the fire.
Ain’t shit in this world that can touch me when I know that you love me.


I don’t remember reading this note and I wonder if I was supposed to, or if it was left here by accident. Maybe Mami found it and put it with my things. Maybe it’s been waiting here this whole time for the exact moment when my eyes would finally be ready to see it.
The bowl of milky, honeyed water fits right next to his photo. I light the white candle and with its flame, burn the note. I want to break the tether and set Luciano’s spirit free. He shouldn’t be chained to my memories, my need to hold onto the pain. God gave me a son and Luke is more than enough; I’m grateful. I’ve got to let go.
Lucky and I ignite one another’s hearts and I’m the only one left to put out the fire.
The flames lick higher and graze my fingertips, sending sharp bites of heat and singing the baby hairs on my wrist. I plunge the flaming letter into the bowl of goat milk and honey.
Go free, Luciano. You don’t belong to me.
My Lucky, born with fire on his heart, gave me the most exhilarating love for the first twenty years of my life. But it’s not fair to him, my husband or my son, for me to keep holding on to this so fiercely, clutching what’s now and forever left me.
Goodbye, Luciano.
My love spells didn’t work.

Maldeamores (Lovesick)
by Mara White
Publication Date: June 22, 2015
Genres: Contemporary, Taboo, Romance

Purchase: Amazon

Belén: I’ve loved Luciano ever since I can remember, desired him before I even knew what it meant. He’s always been the only man in my life—my constant protector, and his rejection only intensifies my need.

Luciano: I’ve never known a love more fierce than the one I feel for Belén. But I force myself to deny her no matter how much it hurts.

Our love is a sickness and both of us are infected.

Because there’s no cure for being from the same family.



There ain’t too much that can shake me.  I was born into the belly of the beast on a blazing hot day in July.  A heat-wave scorcher that brought the caps off the fire hydrants and everyone out on the street.  Old men pulled their wife-beaters up over their bellies to cool off and the girls wore even less clothing than normal, which ain’t much, in the Hunts Point section of the South Bronx.  Air conditioning was a luxury afforded to the rich; the only place to cool down was either at the hospital or the car service on the way there.  Just don’t bleed out from a bullet wound before they get you through the lobby.  
My ma says her water broke while she was walking back up the stairs to take a piss.  Being that I was her first, she thought for a second she’d peed her pants.  She hobbled back out onto the street and yelled for somebody to get her a cab before she gave birth to her son on the makeshift corner domino table.  
Ma likes to say that she carried so big with me that she could barely walk—that she knew I was macho from the very first kick in her gut, knew that she’d call me Luciano after the first light of the morning sun.
Like I said, ain’t too much that can flap me.  South Bronx, Spanish Harlem, then to West Harlem and the Heights—I’d seen it all by age ten.  Seen it all and then some.  I ain’t no stranger to violence.
But war is different when it moves from rival blocks and gang-claimed school yards to open desert or caves and tunnels dug two miles deep into a mountainside.  Out here you’re not fighting your own war.  You’re part of a machine that is unimaginably bigger than you are.  When you’re out on a mission, you pray with each footstep that the machine will take care of you.
One thing is for certain—whether you’re ready or not, the machine will make a fucking man of you.  
Out here under the white-hot sun, I think about that scorching day in the South Bronx in ‘89 when my Ma brought me into this world.  And who knows if she was ready, but she struggled alone, like a roach on its back, her whole life just to take care of me.  
The sky is empty and an endless, deep blue.  What I wouldn’t give right now for the propeller beats of an army chopper to break the monotony.  My warm, sticky blood seeps through my fatigues and the sand soaks it up like it’s been waiting its whole goddamned life to get a drink of me.  Alls it would take is a single sandstorm for me to get buried out here forever—no record, no closure, no body to recover and fly home for an honorable funeral service.
So I think about how she would describe to me the day I made an entrance: hot, sleazy summer.  Beaches too polluted—no swimming, no air but the devil’s own to breathe in the city.  She swears the bachata music stopped when she hit the street and screamed she was in labor.  
That the old men upset their domino game as they all stood simultaneously in attention.  

That the sky momentarily lit up with a flash of heat lightning.  She thought for a second, rain, but then realized the sensation was only her own water dripping down her legs.  
That the temperature broke one hundred and five on that day.  She said the heat made labor easy, that it helped to loosen all of her muscles.  She said she knew I would be a boy and that the heat would make me just as stubborn as I was strong.  
And she knew that I would take care of her—that we would take care of each other.
My ma told me the story whenever there was a heat wave passing through the city.  Nothing could ever compare to my heat wave in her head.  I couldn’t know that day better if I’d been there to see it.  My Luciano’s heatwave was worse, it was better, we were lucky we survived it.  That the heat was a blessing disguised as a curse, that her boy would be hot-blooded and naturally drawn to the fight.  But my ma wasn’t scared.  She clenched down on her teeth instead of screaming in pain.
In Spanish, for giving birth, they say, giving light.  My ma swears up and down that I was born to save her life.  Luciano, she named me, the giver of light.
That night a five-alarm fire burnt down almost our whole block.  Faulty wiring, they said.  Six people died, all of them in our rundown building.  Everything she owned became ash.  The only reason we weren’t too was on account of my spontaneous entrance.
We moved less than a mile away into a tiny apartment my Tía Betty shared with their uncle.  A year later, Belén was born, and from that moment on, we slept in the same crib.  It seems like my whole life my cousin has always been right next to me.  I would wake up when she’d cry and drift back to sleep as she did.
Now I lie on my back, wounded, probably mortally.  Alone, unarmed, in prime enemy territory.  What I wouldn’t give to be by her side now.  
Belén.  My cousin.  My own heat wave.  The flame to my fire.

About Mara White

Mara White is a contemporary romance and erotica writer who laces forbidden love stories with hard issues, such as race, gender and inequality. She holds an Ivy League degree but has also worked in more strip clubs than even she can remember. She is not a former Mexican telenovela star contrary to what the tabloids might say, but she is a former ballerina and will always remain one in her heart. She lives in NYC with her husband and two children and yes, when she’s not writing you can find her on the playground.

BLOG TOUR REVIEW: Glamour by Skye Warren, AL Jackson, Sophie Jordan, Aleatha Romig, Lili St. Germain, Nora Flite, Sierra Simone & Nicola Rendell

Contemporary Fairytale Retellings
by Skye Warren, AL Jackson, Sophie Jordan, Aleatha Romig, Lili St. Germain, Nora Flite, Sierra Simone and Nicola Rendell.
Publication Date: July 18, 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Purchase: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks

Once upon a time…

Remember the fairy tales your parents read to you when you were little?

These are NOT those fairy tales.

From modern day royalty to metaphorical dragons, contemporary castles to sexy heroes, these bestselling authors twist tales as old as time into something new.

GLAMOUR contains eight exclusive never-before-seen novellas that each have an HEA… because they all lived happily ever after.

Every single reader who one-clicks the new book for the low limited-time release price ALSO gets 6 FREE bonus books from the bestselling all-star author lineup. These are SIX five-star full-length books that the authors are giving away exclusively here to show their immense gratitude for your support. GET YOUR BONUS BOOKS ➤

Sonja's Review

I wanted to read Glamour as soon as I saw the author list. It has quite a few of my favorites and the ones who I haven't read, I have been meaning to, so it was just a no-brainer that I was excited for it. I haven't read all of the stories in it yet, but I am definitely going to! 

I have only read Ms. Warren's "Bedtime Story" for right now, but I really enjoyed it! It was sweet and interesting with a little sexiness to go along with it. I think my favorite part was the few lines of a fairytale story at the beginning of each chapter. I really loved that - it was just a lovely little story. 

I might have only one the novellas down in this anthology, but I'm eager to read the others! I'm going to finish them as soon as I can and I'm sure they'll be fantastic. I can't wait to see what other fairytale re-tellings I have in store for me too! 

~ ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Stars

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

BLOG TOUR REVIEW: Wildfire by Ilona Andrews

In the thrilling conclusion to the Hidden Legacy series, Nevada and Rogan grapple with a power beyond even their imagination…

Hidden Legacy #3
Ilona Andrews
Releasing July 25, 2017
Avon Books

From Ilona Andrews, #1 New York Times bestselling author, the thrilling conclusion to her Hidden Legacy series, as Nevada and Rogan grapple with a power beyond even their imagination…

Nevada Baylor can’t decide which is more frustrating — harnessing her truthseeker abilities or dealing with Connor “Mad” Rogan and their evolving relationship. Yes, the billionaire Prime is helping her navigate the complex magical world in which she’s become a crucial player—and sometimes a pawn—but she also has to deal with his ex-fiancée, whose husband has disappeared, and whose damsel-in-distress act is wearing very, very thin.

Rogan faces his own challenges, too, as Nevada’s magical rank has made her a desirable match for other Primes. Controlling his immense powers is child’s play next to controlling his conflicting emotions. And now he and Nevada are confronted by a new threat within her own family. Can they face this together? Or is their world about to go up in smoke?

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

Mom made big eyes at me and nodded toward the table. I dropped my bag on the floor and sat.

“Drink your tea.” Grandma Frida pushed a steaming mug toward Rynda.

Rynda picked up and drank it, but her gaze was fixed on me. Desperation in her eyes turned to near panic. Right.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath from the stomach all the way up, held it, and let it out slowly. One . . . two . . . Calm . . . calm . . .

“Nevada?” Grandma Frida asked.

“She’s an empath Prime,” I said. “I’m upset, so it’s affecting her.”

Rynda gave a short laugh, and I heard Olivia Charles in her voice. “Oh, that’s rich.”

Five . . . six . . . Breathe in, breathe out . . . Ten. Good enough.

I opened my eyes and looked at Rynda. I had to keep my voice and my emotions under control. “Your mother killed an entire crew of Rogan’s soldiers and four lawyers, including two women your age. It was an unprovoked slaughter. Their husbands are now widowers and their children are motherless because of her.”

“A person is never just one thing,” Rynda said, putting the mug down. “To you she might have been a monster, but to me she was my mother. She was a wonderful grandmother to my children. She loved them so much. My mother-in- law doesn’t care for them. They have no grandparents now.”

“I’m sorry for your and their loss. I regret that things went the way they did. But it was a justified kill.” Dear God, I sounded like my mother.

“I don’t even know how she died.” Rynda clenched her hands into a single fist. “They only gave me back her bones. How did my mother die, Nevada?”

I took a deep breath. “It wasn’t an easy or a quick death.”

“I deserve to know.” There was steel in her voice. “Tell me.”

“No. You said you needed my help. Something terrible must’ve happened. Let’s talk about that.”

Her hand shook, and the mug danced a little as she brought it to her lips. She took another swallow of her tea. “My husband is missing.”

Okay. Missing husband. Familiar territory. “When was the last time you saw . . .” Rogan had said his name one time, what was it? “. . . Brian?”

“Three days ago. He went to work on Thursday and didn’t come back. He doesn’t answer his phone. Brian likes his routine. He’s always home by dinner. It’s almost Christmas. He wouldn’t miss it.” A note of hysteria crept into her voice. “I know what you’ll ask: does he have a mistress, did we have a good marriage, does he disappear on drunken binges? No. No, he doesn’t. He takes care of me and the kids. He comes home!”

She must’ve spoken to the Houston PD. “Did you fill out a missing person report?”

“Yes. They’re not going to look for him.” Her voice turned bitter. She was getting more agitated by the minute. “He’s a Prime. It’s House business. Except House Sherwood is convinced that Brian is okay and

he’s just taking a break. Nobody is looking for him, except me. Nobody is returning my calls. Even Rogan refuses to see me.”

That didn’t sound right. Rogan would never turn her away, even if I pitched a huge fit about it. I’d watched the two of them talking before. He liked her and he cared about her. “What did Rogan say exactly?”

“I came to him on Friday. His people told me he was out. He was out on Saturday. I asked to wait, and they told me it was a waste of time. They didn’t know when he would be back. I may be naive, but I’m not an idiot. I know what that means. Two weeks ago, I had friends. I had my mother’s friends, powerful, respected, and always so eager to do Olivia Charles a favor. Two weeks ago, one phone call and half of the city would be out looking for Brian. They would be putting pressure on the police, on the mayor, on the Texas Rangers. But now, everyone is out. Everyone is too busy to see me. There is an invisible wall around me. No matter how loud I scream, nobody can hear me. People just nod and offer platitudes.”

“He didn’t stonewall you,” I said. “He was out of state. With me.

She stopped. “You’re together?”

There was no point in lying. “Yes.”

“The thing with my mother, it wasn’t just a job for you?”

“No. She killed the wife of a man I consider a friend. He works here now.”

Rynda put her hand over her mouth. Silence fell, heavy and tense.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” she said. “I’ll get the children and go.”

“That’s right,” Grandma Frida said.

“No,” Mom said. I knew that voice. That was Sergeant Mom voice. Rynda knew that voice too, because she sat up straighter. Olivia Charles was never in the military, but three minutes of talking to her had told me that she had ruled her household with an iron fist and had very low tolerance for nonsense.

“You’re here now,” Mom said. “You came to us for help, because you had nowhere to turn and because you’re scared for your husband and your children. You came to the right place. Nevada is very good at tracking missing people. Either she’ll help you, or she will recommend someone who will.”

Grandma Frida turned and looked at Mom as if she had sprouted a pineapple on her head.

“Right,” I said. I may not have personally murdered Rynda’s mother, but I made that death possible. And now she was a pariah, alone and scared. She had lost her mother, her husband, and all of the people she thought were her friends. I had to help her. I had to at least get her started in the right direction.

Man, I really loved Wildfire, but I have to admit with that last little bit, if I'm right about it, bummed me out. I feel a little silly about that, though, so let's move on and I will start by saying that I was so excited to read Wildfire. I completely fell in love with the series with the first book I read which actually turned out to be the second, but it all worked out and I'm not only eager to read a new book in the series, if one should come along, but the first one as well! Ilona Andrews is just that good and Wildfire was a supremely excellent read! 

I don't know what's not to love about Connor Rogan. It's obvious that he's in love with Nevada and although he's protective of her, he doesn't try to strong arm her and force her to stay safe. No, he supports her and never tries to stifle her. Connor has utter faith in her and he lets her stand on her own when she needs to. It's not hard to fall for Mad Rogan - he's fierce, protective, sweet, a little vulnerable sometimes, and devoted and I wholeheartedly love him. 

I loved Nevada even more than I did before. She's strong, she's smart, and she can without a doubt take care of herself. Nevada isn't afraid to go toe to toe with Mad Rogan and she doesn't just let him have whatever he wants or let him have his way. Not to mention, that she is extremely loyal and protective of her family - she would do anything for them - she would really do anything for someone she cared about too. Nevada is a total Boss, she's amazing, and I want to be her when I grow up. 

Wildfire is full of excitement, danger, suspense, intrigue, and action. There's never a dull moment or a time when you're going to want to stop turning the page as fast as you can to see what's going to happen next. It was steamy, fun, with a little bit of  heartache, but absolutely whole of heart. I just loved and enjoyed reading Wildfire - it was wonderful!

Wildfire is the third book in the Hidden Legacy series and you should read them in order. It's told from just Nevada's POV and she and Rogan do get a happy ending. 

~ ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Stars 

Start the Trilogy at the beginning

“Ilona Andrews" is the pseudonym for a husband-and-wife writing team. Ilona is a native-born Russian and Gordon is a former communications sergeant in the U.S. Army. Contrary to popular belief, Gordon was never an intelligence officer with a license to kill, and Ilona was never the mysterious Russian spy who seduced him. They met in college, in English Composition 101, where Ilona got a better grade. (Gordon is still sore about that.) They have co-authored two New York Times and USA Today bestselling series—the urban fantasy of Kate Daniels and the romantic urban fantasy of The Edge—and are working on the next volumes for both. They live in Texas with their two children and many dogs and cats.

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