Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Tour Stop + Review Beneath the Truth, Beneath series by Meghan March

   


     

From USA Today bestselling author Meghan March comes the final sexy standalone set in the Beneath world of New Orleans. 
 I used to believe there were lines in life you don't cross. 
Don't lie. 
Don't cheat. 
Don't steal. 
Until I learned people don't always practice what they preach. I turned in my badge and gun and walked away from everything. Then I got the call no one wants, and I’m back in New Orleans. What I don't expect is for her to be here too. 
Another line you don’t cross? 
Don't touch your best friend’s little sister. 
She's always been off-limits. 
Too bad I don't follow the rules anymore.  

Amazon | iBooks | BN | Kobo

                 
Wham. My heart slammed against my ribs as it sped up about twenty beats per minute. The heat and delicious woodsy citrus scent radiating from his body did good things to me. Things that made me want to do very bad things to him. I wasn’t a seventeen-year-old virgin anymore. I knew my way around a man, but I had to admit, the hipsters in Cali had nothing on a homegrown Louisiana man like Rhett. When he spoke, he leaned in so close that I could feel his breath on my ear. “You missed that shot on purpose.” My gaze jumped from the sexy five o’clock shadow shading his jaw to his piercing green eyes. “Wha-what are you talking about?” I smacked myself mentally when my old stammer kicked in. Of course he would cause it. “That shot. You missed on purpose. I saw you adjust at the last minute. Why?” I swallowed the saliva pooling in my mouth and decided to take the safest exit from this situation. Lying. “Cue slipped.” His eyes narrowed on me. “You’re lying and you’re terrible at it, just like you’ve always been.” He reached up and pressed his thumb to my left eyebrow. “You get a twitch right here.” Oh my God. Rhett Hennessy is touching me. And what’s more . . . he knows my tell. He noticed me! The fifteen-year-old inside me did a terrible cartwheel at the realization. Okay, more of a round-off. With a tumble in the grass to finish. Whatever. But outwardly, I was trapped in that green gaze until he decided to let me go—or until I came to my senses. I cleared my throat and sidestepped him. “Whatever you say, hotshot. I need another drink.” Focusing on putting one four-inch heel in front of the other without biting it, I escaped to the table and reached for the whiskey glass I’d left behind, interrupting my brother and the waitress. They both stared at me as I chugged the contents. I’d always wondered what it would feel like to have Rhett’s attention, and now I knew. In a word, it was . . . unnerving. “How’s the game going?” my brother asked. “Fine.” Keeping my answer short meant he couldn’t tell that I was lying. Heath wasn’t nearly as observant as Rhett. “You winning?” Thanking the Lord that Heath obviously hadn’t been watching, I shrugged. “I guess.” He glanced toward Rhett and then back to me. “The sister I know and love doesn’t lose at pool. Ever. Even to Rhett Hennessy.” I lowered the glass to the table and straightened my shoulders. “Like they say, things change.” He nodded slowly. “That may be true about most things, Flounder. But you’re a pool shark and we both know it.” Before I could respond, Heath’s attention jumped back to the waitress. I took another ten seconds to gather myself, also known as drinking offensively in my mind, before I crossed the floor to face off against my former obsession. “You all right, Red?” Rhett asked. “Don’t call me that. And I’ve never been better.” His gaze dipped to my feet and dragged up my body. “I can agree with that statement.” Whoa. Who is this guy with the innuendo? A glance at his empty whiskey glass told me he was drinking heavily as well. Was this the booze talking? Or was Rhett Hennessy not just noticing me, but noticing me? Either way, I had to play it cool. Or at least pretend to play it cool, since it seemed I might fall short. “Your turn, hotshot. Better not miss, because I’ll clear the table next time,” I said, but my cocky attitude backfired. Rhett didn’t miss. He sank his balls and then the eight, ending the game almost as quickly as it started. He returned his cue to the rack and turned to face me, all traces of the earlier heat banked, his expression shuttered. “Game over.” What the hell just happened?   

  
  


Review by Iza

Jesus Christ, that epilogue killed me!

But until I get to the epilogue, let me start with the beginning of the story.

We've met and known Rhett Hennessy from pretty much the beginning of the Beneath series. I, for one, fell so hard in love with him, I was eager for him to get his HEA. With every book that was written and published, I kept hoping it was Rhett's story being told, but nope, the others had to come first.

Ms. March left the good for last.

Rhett's an honorable man. That's the way he and his brothers - oh, those Hennessy men! - were raised. With honor and integrity. Their dad, along with two Hennessy guys were cops and detectives. If that doesn't say honor and integrity, I don't know what does.

But as we all know, it was just an illusion and it all went boom, making Hennessy up and leave NOLA behind. I didn't blame him. As much as it hurt to have him suffer, I got it.

But he had to come back because the past was restless. Things weren't adding up. I think Ms. March has gotten a taste for romantic suspense and action-packed books ever since publishing Take Me Back, because Beneath the Truth was exactly that. I mean we had some action, here and there, throughout the series, but this one?

Explosive. It has so many feels! I cried happy tears, sad ones, I laughed, I melted and fanned myself. In other words, it was so very good and I'm going back to that epilogue, that made me cry like a baby. I could barely see the words, I was crying so hard.

Read this book, read the series, don't miss out on an awesome series. I am going to miss these guys, but this was the best closure ever for all of them. The books shall be reread many times.

5 ++++ stars. I voluntarily agreed to read an early copy of this book.
 
  

meghanmarchpic


Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She's also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she's ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at meghanmarchbooks@gmail.com.



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