April 2, 2017

RELEASE DAY REVIEW, EXCERPT & GIVEAWAY: Royal Disaster (Royal Scandal #2)

More royal love! If you weren't in love with Dylan Hale before, you will be after reading ROYAL DISASTER. Check out my review and an excerpt from the book!

Royal Disaster (Royal Scandal #2), by Parker Swift
Publish Date:
April 2, 2017
Publisher: Forever
Format: e-ARC, provided by the publisher
Genre: adult contemporary romance
To Buy: Amazon | Barnes & Noble

Rating: 5 STARS

(Synopsis) Meeting Dylan Hale has turned my life upside down. I'm dating an actual duke who's devastatingly handsome and deliciously naughty. On the surface, I'm living the high life. But this surreal world of royalty and paparazzi is getting out of control.

Someone knows way too much about Dylan and me-about the moments when we're alone, about how his hands leave a trail of fire over my skin . . . about the complete control he has over me between the sheets. And worse, it's starting to become clear that Dylan's keeping secrets from me, too . . .

I love me a good royal love story. And so far, the story of Dylan Hale, Duke of Abington, and his common American girlfriend Lydia Bell is absolutely the swooniest, sexiest, and most romantic story ever. 

In Royal Disaster, we see Dylan's fears about going public with his relationship with Lydia realized. He initially kept her a secret because he was afraid that if she was hounded by paparazzi and all the other unpleasant aspects of his life, she wouldn't be able to handle it. 

Certainly, in Royal Disaster, we see Lydia facing the less positive aspects of a relationship with a royal. Private moments with Dylan are plastered on the cover of magazines. Friends of hers are now resentful of her newfound celebrity. Hurtful untruths are printed about her online. There is a large learning curve for Lydia to overcome, but for Dylan, she's willing to do whatever it takes. 

In addition to dealing with her new popularity, Lydia is also dealing with a Dylan that resembles Jekyll and Hyde.  There are times when he is the most amazingly perfect man - soft and tender and sweet. Then there are other times - usually after having gone to see his horrible father - that Dylan is moody and depressed and withdrawn. Dealing with him and the paparazzi and her demanding job and then a threat that no one can pinpoint all wear on Lydia. 

But there is always Dylan.

He is steadfast in his love and support for her. He never wavers in his feelings. No matter what else is going on around them, they both know they have each other. That constancy from them was my favorite part of this book. It was like, once Dylan went all in, he was ALL IN. It made this sexy man infinitely more appealing. 

Royal Disaster is told entirely from Lydia's POV. Dylan has secrets, and because we don't get the benefit of being inside his head, they remain secrets until the very end. Although I get that, there were some times when I REALLY wanted to know what Dylan was thinking. It's all good, though. Because Royal Disaster was an incredible story and I can't wait to see what's next for Dylan and Lydia in their final book. 

Dylan urged me through the door to his bedroom, his palm spread widely across my lower back. “In you go,” he said firmly.

I stepped into the dark room, lit only by the light coming from the bathroom door.

Dylan moved behind me, to the side, and stood me in front of a leather club chair. I waited as he poured himself a glass of water and placed it on the table next to the chair after taking a long swig.

“What? No more Scotch?” I asked, following his eyes as he circled me, coming to stand behind me.

“I want my senses about me for this. You were bloody gorgeous tonight,” he said into my ear, his fingertips stroking my arms. “So perfectly yourself. I want to reward you. I want to sink into you. I want to goddamn consume you,” he said slowly, taking his time, and I gulped in anticipation. “And no more talking,” he said softly, finally settling into the chair before me and gazing up at me. “Undress.”

I giggled a little. “So it’s going to be that kind of night.”

He tsk-ed at me, wagging his finger as he sat down. “Shh, damsel. This will be better if you follow instructions.”

My skin was singing—it felt like there were a million little weather systems moving in the air around me, all electric, all feverish. My breathing was picking up.

I walked up to him, put my hands on the armrests of the chair where he sat, leaned over, and kissed him slowly on the lips. No tongue, just firm, warm lips.

“Can you unzip me at least?” I whispered, our faces centimeters apart, the air between us warming. Our eyes met, and my little challenge added heat to this game. He was getting ready to devour me.

I stood and turned, so my back was to him, and I felt him rise behind me. He dragged the zipper slowly down my back and slid his hands into the dress. They were so warm and felt so big, like he could grab me fully around my middle. His thumbs stroked my underarms, and the subtle movements caused a ripple, a shiver of anticipation.

The dress, now loose, slumped off my shoulders, making room for his hands. He unclasped my bra, and it fell into the dress. Then he pushed the whole thing off my arms and down my body, so it hung in front of me, and my bra spilled to the floor.

“On the bed, damsel.” He smacked my ass—hard. I smiled, eager, scurried to his majestic four-poster canopy bed, and perched myself on its edge. I bit my lip between my nervous teeth and sat on my hands. My hair drifted around my shoulders. The pit in my stomach and the round ache between my legs were getting sharper, firmer, more demanding. I wanted his hands on me, all over me. He was taking this too slowly, like he was stalking his prey.

Dylan reached into his bag, parked by the base of the bed, and lifted out a long coil of velvety-looking fabric, wider than rope, softer looking. “You game for this, sweetness?” I nodded hungrily, shamelessly. “Good. Then up at the headboard. Now.”

I crawled on all fours and turned back to look at Dylan stalking me. “Thought this through, did you?”


Another crisp slap to my ass.

Right, no talking. But if that was my punishment, I might have to keep rebelling. I couldn’t stop the eager smile forming on my face, and Dylan shook his head. “Incorrigible.”

Parker Swift grew up in Providence, Rhode Island, and then grew up again in New York, London, and Minneapolis and currently lives in Connecticut. She has spent most of her adult life examining romantic relationships in an academic lab as a professor of social psychology. Now, she's exploring the romantic lives of her fictional characters in the pages of her books. When she's not writing, she spends her time with her bearded nautical husband and being told not to sing along to pop music in the car by her two sons.

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1 comment:

صيانة said...

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