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A review by rjordan19
The Unexpected Bride by Gina Griffin, Gina Griffin
adventurous
emotional
medium-paced
4.75
Overall: 4.5 rounded to ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Readability: 📖📖📖📖
Feels: 🦋🦋🦋🦋
Emotional Depth: 💔💔💔💔
Sexual Tension: ⚡⚡⚡
Romance: 💞💞💞💞
Sensuality: 💋💋💋 (The intimate scenes are definitely a touch light in the wording and I prefer a bit more explicitness)
Sex Scene Length: 🍑🍑🍑🍑
Steam Scale (Number of Sex Scenes): 🔥🔥
Humor: A bit
Perspective: Third person mostly from hero and heroine and some side characters including the heroine’s father, and her maid
More character focused or plot focused? character
How did the speed of the story feel? slow to medium
When mains are first on page together: pretty soon in, about 3% (chapter 1 of 20)
Cliffhanger: No, this ends with a happily ever after
Epilogue: Yes, a few months later
Format: read an e-book version through kindle unlimited
Why I chose this book: I came across the author on instagram and was curious about her work. She has been kind and engaging so I moved her up on my TBR!
Mains: This is a M/F relationship between a cishet hero and heroine
Should I read in order?
This is book 1 of Griffin’s Highlander Brides series.
Basic plot:
On the way to meet her father in England, Bronte meets Shaine McConner, who falls head over heels while escorting her.
Give this a try if you want:
- Medieval – 1123 (time of King Henry I of England and King Alexander of Scotland)
- Scotland setting
- English heroine / Scottish hero pairing (but heroine has been in Scotland basically her whole life, raised at a nunnery)
- hero is laird of clan McConner
- instalove
- protective hero
- age gap – he’s older by roughly 12 years
- hero falls first / hero pursues
- road trip vibes
- bit of a size difference – he’s taller
- he’ll cover you with his plaid while you’re sleeping
- medium steam – 2 full scenes plus some short mentions and fade to blacks
Ages:
- heroine is 18, hero is about 30
First line:
Bronte was nervous at the thought of meeting her father for the first time.
My thoughts:
Okay, there was something about this story that was absolutely divine to me. I loved the first half of this novel so, so much. It had something that just grabbed my heart and held up. I am a fool for heroes that are obsessed, heroes that fall first and watching Shaine fall for Bronte was utterly delicious.
They were so cute together falling in love. It gave me all the butterflies I crave about romance. I loved Griffin’s writing and found myself rereading numerous passages and savoring them and highlighting so many parts. I will absolutely be back for more from Griffin – this story was so delightful to me and made me feel all giddy.
A few very minor downfalls for me personally – I wanted a touch more dialogue between them – especially as we got into the book. I loved the beginning filled with those little touches and longing looks and uncertainty – I adore that – but I wanted to know both of them a touch more as the book went on. I also am not a fan of frequent switching of POVs in a story and we had a few different characters get thought time (though most of it is definitely the hero and heroine) but this I think too is why it reminds me a bit of an old school feel – in a good way. But it seemed to jump back and forth between the hero and heroine without solid breaks – it wasn’t necessarily confusing but just a preference.
I was so happy there was steam in this novel! I had my doubts when I picked it up haha and that would have been fine too but I really loved Griffins scenes. They were emotional and sweet. I may prefer a touch more explicitness overall though.
Few random reading stats for this author
# of books read: This is my first
Average rating: 5 stars
Favorite book: This one!
Quotes any typos are my own! I am bad with typos, I apologize
Okay I NEED authors to describe heroes like this all the time 😆 It’s something I love about Monica McCarty too – she takes time and describes her heroes
Carefully turning back, Bronte faced the shadow before her. It remained still for a moment more, and then moved forward, heavy footfalls snapping the twigs beneath its feet.
Her heartbeat raced as she lowered her hand from her mouth and tightly gripped the blanket, while the menacing figure stepped closer.
Suddenly it turned, and the moonlight that had cloaked the figure now illuminated its form. Bronte gasped in both fear and awe. It was a man. He was as tall and robust as an oat tree; she was sure no mere mortal would be able to fell this man. He was clothed in the usual garb of the Scot, a plaid wrapped around his waist and over one shoulder, the shirt underneath partly untied, revealing a strong neck. His muscled legs were encased in deerskin leggings. As he shifted, his face was lighted further by the pale beam.
Bronte’s breath caught, and she put one hand to her heart to still its hammering. He was the most fearsome-looking man she had ever seen.
His hair was as black as night itself, uneven ends hanging long to his shoulders. His brows were fierce slashes over eyes that appeared misty grey in the moonlight, all set above a straight nose and lips that were presently set into a hard line.
The lines around his mouth may have been those of laughter, but whether caused by jubilant humour or ruthless mirth at another poor person’s expense, Bronte was unsure. It was probably the latter. He certainly did not look happy to see her.
She could not stop staring at him. The moment tensed as they continued to intently observe each other in an unusual stand-off.
//
A cold breeze rustled the trees around their camp, obscuring the moon’s full moon. The dancing branches causing fragments of light to flicker over the intruder, revealing more details of him to Bronte as her eyes followed their glimmer. His arms and legs had streaks of dirt and random leaves were caught in his hair. Twigs had embedded themselves in his plaid, and long grasses trailed around his leggings like a vine.
His garb was clean. Not like her father’s men, who wore dirty clothes and did not wash their hands or faces. But he was as wild as the forest, nature itself entwining on him and finding its own place. He was stoic, unmoving, and the rise and fall of his chest the only hint that he was living and breathing, not a figment of her imagination.
It was as if the forest itself had come alive and it was him.
//
Shaine stared down at the figure before him. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. When he assessed the unexpected situation, he wondered if he was still astride his mount and asleep in the saddle. That this circumstance they found themselves in was just a dream. He hoped not, otherwise this ethereal vision in front of him was also a mere figment of his imagination.
He could hear her uneven breaths.
---
He had frowned and glared back across at the pathetic soldiers who were just awakening, likely due to a well-aimed sword brushed against a throat. His anger had intensified; these worthless men should be protecting the women. Men who lay at least forty footfalls away would be useless should a threat come near, unable to defend them. The women could have their throats slashed or be seized before those pitiful excuses of Englishmen realised anything was amiss.
He looked back down at the woman before him. She began to stir; she inhaled gently, and he was drawn into the pools of deep green when her eyes locked with his.
His heart stopped for a beat, then began in a new rhythm.
---
Her eyes lifted and she gasped when she realised he had stopped talking and was staring at her intently. His look was molten; his body still.
---
Bronte frowned. What was it she could not recall? It lurked there in the back of her mind, teasing her.
She bit her lower lip in consternation and tugged the blanket thoughtfully under her chin. Her fingers ran across the soft weave, her thumb and forefinger feeling the thickness of the woo. It was not harsh and abrasive like the blankets she had brought from the nunnery.
Almost absentmindedly, she looked down as her hand again brushed across the blanket. Her eyes widened when she noted the purple and blue hues of the fabric, with interceptions of narrow white and green lines tracking across it. It was a plaid.
---
A large hand gently slide across her neck, tucking stray strands of hair behind her ear, and she sighed as a callused thumb traced the shell of that same ear. The inquisitive thumb then trailed across her cheek to her mouth and gently shaped her lips. It dropped further to her chin and softly rubbed back and forth.
Then it was gone, and Bronte exhaled in protest before she was hushed by firm, warm lips feathering against her forehead. Lips that pressed soothing kisses along her brow to her temple and down to her cheek, whispering soft words in Gaelic she was too sleepy to understand before they too were gone.
---
Bronte recalled with clarity the previous night and what had happened, what she had allowed to happen. The hard muscle of his chest and bulge of his arms had left lasting imprints on her skin. She could still feel the callused hand that clasped hers and the thumb that he rubbed back and forth across her knuckles. The same thumb that would trace her lips in the early dawn. Her stomach fluttered at a hazy recollection of gentle lips against her cheek.
---
Finally, Shaine reached his hand out to gently touch under her chin. It remained there a moment before sliding down to rest lightly at the nape of her neck. His fingers caressed, feeling the warm silky texture of her delicate skin.
Bronte’s breath caught, lost in the intensity of his gaze. Her neck tingled at the warm touch of his callused fingerings. It was wondrous that a hand so strong and hard could touch her with such gentleness.
---
Kerith frowned at his still laird. “But should she be told the truth about her father and her home?”
Finally, Shaine turned to look at him. Kerith’s brows rose at the depth of feeling shining from Shaine’s eyes, and the glint of determination that flared within their steely depths. His voice was rough with emotion when he replied.
“She stays with us. She is home.”
---
“I am thinking how pleased I am that you stopped that night at our clearing and did not continue your journey.”
He gazed at warmly. “I am pleased we stopped there too.”
“Do you realise for the balance of those small decisions we may never have - “
The warm hand he placed against her lips stayed what she was about to say; the unthinkable alternative.
“It would have happened. There was never a chance we would not have met.”
---
He leaned down to press his damp lips against her neck. “You looked beautiful this morning when I left you, laying in our bed.”
She sighed at his hot whisper.
“I was very reluctant to go. Did you miss me today?” Shaine breathed into her ear.
Bronte moaned as his tongue swirled gently around.
“Was that a no?” He stopped, teasingly.
“No. I mean, yes! I mean, yes, I missed you!” She groaned as his wicked tongue began its dance again.
“That is good, because I missed you as well. Tell me again.”
Content warnings: These should be taken as a minimum of what to expect. It’s very possible I have missed some.
- parental death mentioned
- mentions of raids and wars among the Scottish clans
- scenes of physical violence and domestic abuse – the heroine’s father is abusive and physically attacks multiple people including the heroine
- some religious overtones – the heroine is from a nunnery and there is a priest in her husband’s village where she sets up and encourages weekly mass but I wouldn’t say it’s a large plot point
- child in danger scene – a child side character is found unconscious in the water and first aid is rendered and he comes to
Author content warnings? Didn’t catch any
Locations of kisses/intimate scenes, safe sex aspects, consent, pregnancy/child in the story:
Safe sex: No
How’s the consent? It’s mostly good – the hero does kiss her abruptly and doesn’t ask but we are in her POV and know she is enjoying it
Pregnancy/children in story? There is a child side character that’s kind of adopted by the keep and the heroine falls pregnant within the last 10% or so of the story
19% - kiss
36% - 🔥 kisses, fingering/oral for her, missionary
Shaine held her wide gaze with his own, leaning forward to press a possessive kiss against her soft curls.
Bronte moaned and reached down to grip his shoulders, steadying legs that suddenly weakened. He placed another kiss there before grasping one large hand on her hip, helping to hold her upright while his other continued its gentle adoration.
52% - 🔥 dry humping o for her, missionary
She pressed her thighs together to ease the pulsing ache. Shaine would have none of that. He forced a hard leg between her thighs and pressed his knee up against her throbbing centre. She cried out as he began to rock his knee back and forth, increasing the ache that flamed there.
64% - fade to black scene
84% - shorter scene without details
Readability: 📖📖📖📖
Feels: 🦋🦋🦋🦋
Emotional Depth: 💔💔💔💔
Sexual Tension: ⚡⚡⚡
Romance: 💞💞💞💞
Sensuality: 💋💋💋 (The intimate scenes are definitely a touch light in the wording and I prefer a bit more explicitness)
Sex Scene Length: 🍑🍑🍑🍑
Steam Scale (Number of Sex Scenes): 🔥🔥
Humor: A bit
Perspective: Third person mostly from hero and heroine and some side characters including the heroine’s father, and her maid
More character focused or plot focused? character
How did the speed of the story feel? slow to medium
When mains are first on page together: pretty soon in, about 3% (chapter 1 of 20)
Cliffhanger: No, this ends with a happily ever after
Epilogue: Yes, a few months later
Format: read an e-book version through kindle unlimited
Why I chose this book: I came across the author on instagram and was curious about her work. She has been kind and engaging so I moved her up on my TBR!
Mains: This is a M/F relationship between a cishet hero and heroine
Should I read in order?
This is book 1 of Griffin’s Highlander Brides series.
Basic plot:
On the way to meet her father in England, Bronte meets Shaine McConner, who falls head over heels while escorting her.
Give this a try if you want:
- Medieval – 1123 (time of King Henry I of England and King Alexander of Scotland)
- Scotland setting
- English heroine / Scottish hero pairing (but heroine has been in Scotland basically her whole life, raised at a nunnery)
- hero is laird of clan McConner
- instalove
- protective hero
- age gap – he’s older by roughly 12 years
- hero falls first / hero pursues
- road trip vibes
- bit of a size difference – he’s taller
- he’ll cover you with his plaid while you’re sleeping
- medium steam – 2 full scenes plus some short mentions and fade to blacks
Ages:
- heroine is 18, hero is about 30
First line:
Bronte was nervous at the thought of meeting her father for the first time.
My thoughts:
Okay, there was something about this story that was absolutely divine to me. I loved the first half of this novel so, so much. It had something that just grabbed my heart and held up. I am a fool for heroes that are obsessed, heroes that fall first and watching Shaine fall for Bronte was utterly delicious.
They were so cute together falling in love. It gave me all the butterflies I crave about romance. I loved Griffin’s writing and found myself rereading numerous passages and savoring them and highlighting so many parts. I will absolutely be back for more from Griffin – this story was so delightful to me and made me feel all giddy.
A few very minor downfalls for me personally – I wanted a touch more dialogue between them – especially as we got into the book. I loved the beginning filled with those little touches and longing looks and uncertainty – I adore that – but I wanted to know both of them a touch more as the book went on. I also am not a fan of frequent switching of POVs in a story and we had a few different characters get thought time (though most of it is definitely the hero and heroine) but this I think too is why it reminds me a bit of an old school feel – in a good way. But it seemed to jump back and forth between the hero and heroine without solid breaks – it wasn’t necessarily confusing but just a preference.
I was so happy there was steam in this novel! I had my doubts when I picked it up haha and that would have been fine too but I really loved Griffins scenes. They were emotional and sweet. I may prefer a touch more explicitness overall though.
Few random reading stats for this author
# of books read: This is my first
Average rating: 5 stars
Favorite book: This one!
Quotes any typos are my own! I am bad with typos, I apologize
Okay I NEED authors to describe heroes like this all the time 😆 It’s something I love about Monica McCarty too – she takes time and describes her heroes
Carefully turning back, Bronte faced the shadow before her. It remained still for a moment more, and then moved forward, heavy footfalls snapping the twigs beneath its feet.
Her heartbeat raced as she lowered her hand from her mouth and tightly gripped the blanket, while the menacing figure stepped closer.
Suddenly it turned, and the moonlight that had cloaked the figure now illuminated its form. Bronte gasped in both fear and awe. It was a man. He was as tall and robust as an oat tree; she was sure no mere mortal would be able to fell this man. He was clothed in the usual garb of the Scot, a plaid wrapped around his waist and over one shoulder, the shirt underneath partly untied, revealing a strong neck. His muscled legs were encased in deerskin leggings. As he shifted, his face was lighted further by the pale beam.
Bronte’s breath caught, and she put one hand to her heart to still its hammering. He was the most fearsome-looking man she had ever seen.
His hair was as black as night itself, uneven ends hanging long to his shoulders. His brows were fierce slashes over eyes that appeared misty grey in the moonlight, all set above a straight nose and lips that were presently set into a hard line.
The lines around his mouth may have been those of laughter, but whether caused by jubilant humour or ruthless mirth at another poor person’s expense, Bronte was unsure. It was probably the latter. He certainly did not look happy to see her.
She could not stop staring at him. The moment tensed as they continued to intently observe each other in an unusual stand-off.
//
A cold breeze rustled the trees around their camp, obscuring the moon’s full moon. The dancing branches causing fragments of light to flicker over the intruder, revealing more details of him to Bronte as her eyes followed their glimmer. His arms and legs had streaks of dirt and random leaves were caught in his hair. Twigs had embedded themselves in his plaid, and long grasses trailed around his leggings like a vine.
His garb was clean. Not like her father’s men, who wore dirty clothes and did not wash their hands or faces. But he was as wild as the forest, nature itself entwining on him and finding its own place. He was stoic, unmoving, and the rise and fall of his chest the only hint that he was living and breathing, not a figment of her imagination.
It was as if the forest itself had come alive and it was him.
//
Shaine stared down at the figure before him. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. When he assessed the unexpected situation, he wondered if he was still astride his mount and asleep in the saddle. That this circumstance they found themselves in was just a dream. He hoped not, otherwise this ethereal vision in front of him was also a mere figment of his imagination.
He could hear her uneven breaths.
---
He had frowned and glared back across at the pathetic soldiers who were just awakening, likely due to a well-aimed sword brushed against a throat. His anger had intensified; these worthless men should be protecting the women. Men who lay at least forty footfalls away would be useless should a threat come near, unable to defend them. The women could have their throats slashed or be seized before those pitiful excuses of Englishmen realised anything was amiss.
He looked back down at the woman before him. She began to stir; she inhaled gently, and he was drawn into the pools of deep green when her eyes locked with his.
His heart stopped for a beat, then began in a new rhythm.
---
Her eyes lifted and she gasped when she realised he had stopped talking and was staring at her intently. His look was molten; his body still.
---
Bronte frowned. What was it she could not recall? It lurked there in the back of her mind, teasing her.
She bit her lower lip in consternation and tugged the blanket thoughtfully under her chin. Her fingers ran across the soft weave, her thumb and forefinger feeling the thickness of the woo. It was not harsh and abrasive like the blankets she had brought from the nunnery.
Almost absentmindedly, she looked down as her hand again brushed across the blanket. Her eyes widened when she noted the purple and blue hues of the fabric, with interceptions of narrow white and green lines tracking across it. It was a plaid.
---
A large hand gently slide across her neck, tucking stray strands of hair behind her ear, and she sighed as a callused thumb traced the shell of that same ear. The inquisitive thumb then trailed across her cheek to her mouth and gently shaped her lips. It dropped further to her chin and softly rubbed back and forth.
Then it was gone, and Bronte exhaled in protest before she was hushed by firm, warm lips feathering against her forehead. Lips that pressed soothing kisses along her brow to her temple and down to her cheek, whispering soft words in Gaelic she was too sleepy to understand before they too were gone.
---
Bronte recalled with clarity the previous night and what had happened, what she had allowed to happen. The hard muscle of his chest and bulge of his arms had left lasting imprints on her skin. She could still feel the callused hand that clasped hers and the thumb that he rubbed back and forth across her knuckles. The same thumb that would trace her lips in the early dawn. Her stomach fluttered at a hazy recollection of gentle lips against her cheek.
---
Finally, Shaine reached his hand out to gently touch under her chin. It remained there a moment before sliding down to rest lightly at the nape of her neck. His fingers caressed, feeling the warm silky texture of her delicate skin.
Bronte’s breath caught, lost in the intensity of his gaze. Her neck tingled at the warm touch of his callused fingerings. It was wondrous that a hand so strong and hard could touch her with such gentleness.
---
Kerith frowned at his still laird. “But should she be told the truth about her father and her home?”
Finally, Shaine turned to look at him. Kerith’s brows rose at the depth of feeling shining from Shaine’s eyes, and the glint of determination that flared within their steely depths. His voice was rough with emotion when he replied.
“She stays with us. She is home.”
---
“I am thinking how pleased I am that you stopped that night at our clearing and did not continue your journey.”
He gazed at warmly. “I am pleased we stopped there too.”
“Do you realise for the balance of those small decisions we may never have - “
The warm hand he placed against her lips stayed what she was about to say; the unthinkable alternative.
“It would have happened. There was never a chance we would not have met.”
---
He leaned down to press his damp lips against her neck. “You looked beautiful this morning when I left you, laying in our bed.”
She sighed at his hot whisper.
“I was very reluctant to go. Did you miss me today?” Shaine breathed into her ear.
Bronte moaned as his tongue swirled gently around.
“Was that a no?” He stopped, teasingly.
“No. I mean, yes! I mean, yes, I missed you!” She groaned as his wicked tongue began its dance again.
“That is good, because I missed you as well. Tell me again.”
Content warnings: These should be taken as a minimum of what to expect. It’s very possible I have missed some.
- parental death mentioned
- mentions of raids and wars among the Scottish clans
- scenes of physical violence and domestic abuse – the heroine’s father is abusive and physically attacks multiple people including the heroine
- some religious overtones – the heroine is from a nunnery and there is a priest in her husband’s village where she sets up and encourages weekly mass but I wouldn’t say it’s a large plot point
- child in danger scene – a child side character is found unconscious in the water and first aid is rendered and he comes to
Author content warnings? Didn’t catch any
Locations of kisses/intimate scenes, safe sex aspects, consent, pregnancy/child in the story:
Safe sex:
How’s the consent?
Pregnancy/children in story?
19% - kiss
36% - 🔥 kisses, fingering/oral for her, missionary
Shaine held her wide gaze with his own, leaning forward to press a possessive kiss against her soft curls.
Bronte moaned and reached down to grip his shoulders, steadying legs that suddenly weakened. He placed another kiss there before grasping one large hand on her hip, helping to hold her upright while his other continued its gentle adoration.
52% - 🔥 dry humping o for her, missionary
She pressed her thighs together to ease the pulsing ache. Shaine would have none of that. He forced a hard leg between her thighs and pressed his knee up against her throbbing centre. She cried out as he began to rock his knee back and forth, increasing the ache that flamed there.
64% - fade to black scene
84% - shorter scene without details