Cheryl's Book Nook

  Darius It takes some people most of their lives to find the other half of their soul. The one person who gets them. I found mine when I was eight and a new family moved into the house next door. The pretty blonde with the pouty lips and the glittery eyes that held a darkness underneath ʼem. A preacher’s kid. Well-mannered. Respectable. Everything I was supposed to be and wasn’t. ʼCause of the secrets I was hiding. The biggest secret of them all? The other half of my soul was a… boy. As the years passed, that boy changed. He became less well-mannered, less respectable—his old man would say. Certainly less straight. He also became his own person. He didn’t care so much what people thought about him, except for me. He still looked at me like I hung the moon until I ruined it. That one time he showed me what things could be like between us and I pushed him away… Alvin I never had a problem figuring out who I was. The church did. My daddy sure as hell did. But me? I knew the moment th...

  Obsession. Nah, I wouldn’t call it that. Obsession would imply I gave a damn about the little rodent I was swiping between my paws right now. And the only thing I gave a damn about was whatever could give me the quickest high. This was more of a curiosity… a cat kicking around a dead mouse right before he dropped it off on someone’s doorstep. Which was exactly what I was instructed to do. You find a rat, you call an exterminator. It was simple math. It was also a real Mr. and Mrs. Kuznetsov situation we had going on, seeing as my kotyonok thought she had claws. Little did she know, the only difference between a death toll and a dinner bell was whoever was holding the fork. And this feline couldn’t wait to dig in. Ding-ding, baby. Ding-motherf*cking-ding. My Review It was a long while since I read Skin, so I actually had to go back and kind of re-read to remind myself of Casper. This book is just what love in dark and I mean dark romances. In fact, I would call it more pitch bla...

I didn’t eat people. Just men.   First of all, I’d like to set the record straight. I wasn’t a cannibal, ʼkay? I didn’t eat  people . Just men. I ate their hearts out before they ever saw me coming. Figuratively, of course. Most of the time. Sometimes a girl had to do what a girl had to do. And sometimes what I had to do was fry those suckers up with a little bit of buttermilk and enough shortening to give ya coronary. I wouldn’t ever apologize for it. Which was something else you should know about me. I was unapologetic. Then again, so was he. Else the hotshot with a blade bigger than his d*ck wouldn’t have barged his way into my little apartment without so much as a “my bad, sorry for disturbing you, ma’am.” And I wouldn’t have been forced to tie him to a chair and teach him some manners. But here we are, ain’t we? Just a sweet little Southern girl and the big bad pickle-diddler who thought he was about to get his rocks off. Guess it wasn’t his lucky day. Sure was mine, thou...

  HER Every good bedtime story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. But this one? It started in the middle— The middle of the woods. The middle of the night. The middle of nowhere. The kind of place where no one could hear you scream… unless they wanted to. And trust me, the nine shadowy figures watching me through the window? They wanted to hear everything. They didn’t come bearing gifts. They came bearing hunger. They weren’t the only ones ready to play reindeer games, though. I might’ve been caught, cold, and cornered… but I’d always had a soft spot for holiday chaos. Even if the odds were stacked against me. Because, baby, I don’t just handle a challenge. I f*ck it raw and ask for seconds. The more the merrier. THEM The cabin was supposed to be empty. A safehouse. Instead, we found her. All curves and fire and just begging to be unwrapped. A real Christmas miracle. She didn’t scream. She smiled. She didn’t beg us to let her go. She dared us to keep her. And what was more fest...

  Obsession was a five-letter word. Ten years in the making. And her name was Emily. But the real question was who was I? When my pretty little pet leaned forward, offered me a view of her cleavage, and tried to make a deal, I said why the hell not? Five days. Thirty minutes. She could ask me anything to her heart’s content. Anything but my name. She had to figure that one out on her own. It should have been easy enough. I was the man she stole from, whose life she ruined, whose future she destroyed. I was the man she left behind and she was…  mine . SKIN  is a dark  Rumpelstiltskin  retelling and book one in  The Renegades Series . Each title is a standalone in an interconnected world while each story is a retelling of a fairy tale, nursery rhyme, fable, etc. The focus is dark romance so please heed the trigger warnings at the beginning of every book. My Review This book is like riding a giant tide wave. It will have you trying to hold on as the Sybil take...