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crystal_hintz 's review for:
Faefever
by Karen Marie Moning
3.5 Stars
This was probably my least favorite book of the series. There was a whole lot of information packed in here, which was necessary, but things took a very interesting turn at the end so it was impossible to stop and write a review because I just had to find what happened!!
Nobody looks good in their darkest hours. But it's those hours that make us what we are. ~Mac
Barrons was powerful, broodingly good-looking, insanely wealthy, frighteningly intelligent, and had exquisite taste, not to mention a hard body that emitted some kind of constant low-level charge. Bottom line: He was the stuff of heroes.
And psychotic killers.
And the sexual tension!!!
I moistened my lips. His gaze fixed on them. I think I stopped breathing.
He jerked so sharply away that his long dark coat sliced air, and turned his back to me. “Was that an invitation, Ms.Lane?”
“If it was?” I asked, astonishing myself. What did I think I was doing?
“I don’t do hypotheticals. Little girl.”
As I moved deeper into the room, his gaze dropped to my feet, and worked its way back to my face. I was wearing faded jeans, boots, and a snug pink Juicy T-shirt I got on sale at TJ Maxx last summer that said I’m a Juicy girl.
“I bet you are,” he murmured.
This was probably my least favorite book of the series. There was a whole lot of information packed in here, which was necessary, but things took a very interesting turn at the end so it was impossible to stop and write a review because I just had to find what happened!!
Nobody looks good in their darkest hours. But it's those hours that make us what we are. ~Mac
Barrons was powerful, broodingly good-looking, insanely wealthy, frighteningly intelligent, and had exquisite taste, not to mention a hard body that emitted some kind of constant low-level charge. Bottom line: He was the stuff of heroes.
And psychotic killers.
And the sexual tension!!!
I moistened my lips. His gaze fixed on them. I think I stopped breathing.
He jerked so sharply away that his long dark coat sliced air, and turned his back to me. “Was that an invitation, Ms.Lane?”
“If it was?” I asked, astonishing myself. What did I think I was doing?
“I don’t do hypotheticals. Little girl.”
As I moved deeper into the room, his gaze dropped to my feet, and worked its way back to my face. I was wearing faded jeans, boots, and a snug pink Juicy T-shirt I got on sale at TJ Maxx last summer that said I’m a Juicy girl.
“I bet you are,” he murmured.