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Sometimes you pick up a book and the next thing you know its over. You have devoured it form the very first page and can't get anymore. It is over and you are grasping at straws wanting more.
This book was phenomenal. Beautifully crafted with chemistry that blows your socks off and a plot that had my dying half of the time. SO GOOD.
This book have a dose of everything we love from the Wilder roots. The emotion, the funny, the chaos, and most importantly the highly exceptional character dialogue. It was so fun to read.
There may have been a plethora of Badd brothers, but Dru can handle herself.
Like REALLY handle herself.
IF they weren't going at it, they were GOING at it. This book was H-O-T, like you have absolutely no idea. If there was a surface, they were using it. Jasinda outdid herself with the steaminess of this read.
I can't WAIT to get more. I want ALLL THE BOOKS in this series. It is a necessity. It must happen.
The Synopsis:
Your wedding day is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, right? That’s what they say, at least. I went into that day hoping I’d get the happiest day of my life. What I got? The worst. I mean, you really can’t get any worse of a day without someone actually dying.
So…I may have gotten just a little drunk, and maybe just a tad impetuous…
And landed myself in a dive bar somewhere in Alaska, alone, still in my wedding dress, half-wasted and heart-broken.
***
Eight brothers, one bar.
Sounds like the beginning to a bad joke, yeah?
I kinda think so.
Wanna hear another joke? A girl walks into a bar, soaking wet and wearing a wedding dress.
I knew I shouldn’t have touched her. She was hammered, for one thing, and heartbroken for another. I’ve chased enough tail to know better. That kinda thing only leads to clinginess, and a clingy female is the last thing on this earth I need.
I got a bar needs running, and only me to run it—at least until my seven wayward brothers decide to show their asses up…
Then this chick walks in, fine as hell, wearing a soaked wedding dress that leaves little enough to the imagination—and I’ve got a hell of an imagination.
I knew I shouldn’t have touched her. Not so much as a finger, not even innocently.
But I did.
