(#3 of American Queen)
Author: Sierra Simone
Genre: Erotica Romance, BDSM, Menage
Rating: ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪
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They say that every tragic hero has a fatal flaw, a secret sin, a tiny stitch sewn into his future since birth. And here I am. My sins are no longer secret. My flaws have never been more fatal. And I’ve never been closer to tragedy than I am now.
I am a man who loves, a man whose love demands much in return. I am a king, a king who was foolish enough to build a kingdom on the bones of the past. I am a husband and a lover and a soldier and a father and a president.
And I will survive this.
Long live the king.
Excerpt . . .
careful. Embry joined the Army because Vivienne Moore wanted her son to craft the perfect politician's resume. I joined because it seemed like the place to continue my never-ending quest for honor; because becoming an officer in the Army had a certain cachet in my neighborhood; because I wanted to somehow cosmically return the favor for my college scholarship; because the structure and rigid hierarchy of military life appealed to me.
Most importantly, I joined because I knew Carpathia was the most dangerous place in the world at the time, and I felt needed there in a way I can't describe. It was like a barometric pressure that made my bones and teeth ache when I tried to resist it. I knew that I was supposed to be there in the same way I knew that God was real or that I was bisexual. It was a fact, even if it couldn't be seen.
And after all that, then I see this lieutenant refuse to break up a fight? When we were there on the brink of war and responsible for safekeeping innocents nearby? No. I wasn't an angry person, but I was a disciplined one, and the one thing I couldn't tolerate in other people was a lack of it.
I only meant to shake some sense into him, to tell him clearly and unmistakably that he wouldn't get away with that shit while I was around, but then he turned, and I saw his face for the first time.
And it was over.
One look at those winter-blue eyes and those delicate lips and I was finished. One glance at his lean, long body, and I was falling. Every part of me responded with heat and flush and wrenching want, like a hook had been fastened somewhere in my chest and was now giving an almighty tug, and the only thing to ease the ache would be to get closer, closer, closer.
I'd never seen a boy so beautiful. Haughty as he was, overindulged and so obviously dissolute, he was the loveliest person, boy or girl, I'd ever seen.
I still pinned him against the wall, though. And it was when I had him against the wall with my forearm on his throat and my body trapping his that he sealed his fate. As I was choking him, he looked at me with his whole world in his eyes.
After the bombshells that were unreleased in American Prince, I was preparing myself for a emotional end to the series. The last book is both sad and a happy occasion. Another book is released and yet it will be the last. A bittersweet moment.
I might once again be a king worth kneeling to.
Although, I can't really talk about what happens without constantly saying 'Spoiler, spoiler, spoiler alert!' So instead, I'll talk about my feelings while reading. There was definitely apprehension and nail biting at the beginning because I feared for my favourite characters and what they were about to go through.
Sierra Simone is a master craftswoman weaving her magic. The words flow over you like water. They carry you along so effortlessly that without knowing it, you are inside the story feeling each betrayal, heart break and tender moment deep inside your very soul. I love what she did with this last book. Yes she squeezed my heart, shattered it and then proceed to shred it into smaller pieces. But she did repair it. After many, many tears ;) And yet, I love her for it. It was the story I didn't know I wanted and somehow it felt right. The beginning, the middle and the end. All of it. I will say this about the ending, it was fitting. Doesn't reveal much does it? Well, I want you to experience the story in all its glory. I experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows and wondered if my heart would survive. And before I knew it, the tale was done and my heart wept. I didn't want it to end.
About the Author . . .
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