Blog Tour Review & Giveaway: Make You Burn by Megan Crane

Item: Make You Burn
Rating: 3
Author: Cocktails and Books

Posted July 29, 2015 by Cocktails and Books in Blog Tour, Giveaways, Reviews / 2 Comments

Make You Burn by Megan Crane
Series: Deacons of Bourbon Street #1
Genres: Contemporary, Contemporary Women, Erotica, Fiction, General, Romance
Published by Random House Publishing Group Publication Date: August 4th 2015
Pages: 217
Also in this series: Fire Me Up, Strip You Bare
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Find on: Goodreads

Meet the Deacons of Bourbon Street, bad boy bikers who are hell on wheels—and heaven between the sheets. Megan Crane revs up an irresistible new series co-written with Rachael Johns, Jackie Ashenden, and Maisey Yates. Sean “Ajax” Harding’s oaths are inked into his skin. Once second-in-command of the Deacons of Bourbon Street motorcycle club, he left New Orleans to protect the brotherhood, and only the death of his beloved mentor, Priest Lombard, could lure him back. Walking into the old hangout gives him a familiar thrill—especially when he gets an eyeful of the bar’s delectable new owner. A wild ride with her is just the welcome Ajax needs. Then he realizes that she’s Priest’s daughter, all grown up and totally off limits. Sophie Lombard loved her father, not his lifestyle. She’s done with bikers . . . until Ajax roars into town—arrogant, tough, and sexy as ever. And although he treats her like the Catholic schoolgirl he once knew, Sophie’s daydreams tend to revolve around sin. With the very real possibility of heartbreak looming, Sophie knows better than to get too close to an outlaw. But every touch from Ajax is steamier than the Louisiana bayou—and heat like this may just be worth getting burned. Includes a special message from the editor, as well as an excerpt from another Loveswept title.

I should start off by review by stating that MC books are not generally ones I read. This book seemed to have an interesting plot so I thought I would give it a try.

Sophie’s father is the leader of the New Orleans Deacons MC who has just died in a motorcycle accident. In the last 10 years the Deacons have essentially broken up and have scattered to parts unknown but are summoned back for the funeral. That’s what brings back Ajax – who use to be second in command but left 10 years ago. Sophie dislikes the MC and the life they lead but she stays hoping to make something of the bar her father owned separate from the MC.

I had a few issues with the story – the writing was very descriptive but I felt at times it didn’t really say much and there seemed to be very little dialog especially between the two main characters Sophie and Ajax. There also were quite a few plot holes that I had a hard time with – why did Sophie stay with her father and I didn’t really get why Ajax and the rest of the Deacons really left. I could have understood a little better if it was just Ajax who had left – but it was the top 4 in command that all left for different lives and in some cases from what glimpses we saw better lives. I believe there is more going on which I hope the author explores in more depth in the coming books. To fill some of the gaps the writer uses sex as a way to do that – sex in all sorts of places private and public. I like a good sex scene like the next girl, but in this case I felt they didn’t move the story or show any intimacy between the characters.

There are some good points to the story – loved New Orleans back drop. New Orleans is such a fun city it was great to have it featured here. I also have a better understanding of some of the traditions that shape motorcycle clubs it is a culture of tradition and respect and I found that interesting as well.

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“My daddy told me I could dress up like a drag queen and wander the streets of the French Quarter over his dead body,” Sophie Lombard said as she tugged off the glittery mask— and there was no doubt about it, goddamn it, it was her. “So it was now or never, really.”

Ajax knew that face, though he took the stripper cosmetics and the hooker lashes as another insult, when the face he remembered had been scrubbed clean and sweet and pure. And when she peeled the acrobatic headdress from her head and sent it skidding a few feet down the dull sheen of the bar, her long, dark, wavy hair tumbled down past her shoulders, a thick and shining rope of it he wanted to wrap around his hands while he took her—

Jesus Christ.

He stared at her, willing this to be some kind of homecoming-inspired hallucination, but no. He was sober at the moment, he hadn’t touched the funky stuff in years, and this was Sophie Lombard all grown up. She was a lush little package, all taut curves and a belly ring, just like a couple of his preferred wet dreams. She had the most perfect set of plump, round tits he’d ever seen, even with the stupid tassels jutting from them, and they definitely should not have been on display for the entire fucking city like that. Or ever. What the hell was the matter with her? More to the point, he absolutely could not fuck her in the Priory toilets, no matter what bad decisions his cock was agitating for even now.

A man did not fuck the daughter of his beloved father figure when said father figure’s body was barely cold. Even if the daughter in question was dressed for a long night on the pole and had basically just advertised that she was for sale to the better part of New Orleans.

Not in the toilets, anyway.

When she only slipped onto a bar stool, making no attempt to cover herself or change what passed for her clothes, Ajax decided he’d had enough. It was high time he took control of this shit.

Before he lost what was left of his.

“Hey, Sophie,” he said. He didn’t have to raise his voice to command the attention of the entire bar. He saw her stiffen like she recognized his voice and he couldn’t deny that he liked that. He was never meant to go unnoticed, not here. Not in the only place he’d ever belonged. “Is that what you’re wearing to the funeral?”

She turned toward him slowly. So slowly he had a lifetime or two to remember her as a little girl. Sophie of the big, wide eyes and sparkly little laugh. Sophie in thick dark braids and skinned knees. Sophie, who Priest would have died to protect, which meant any of the brothers would have done the same. Sophie, who had never been meant for a sticky dive bar and a pair of pasties, no matter how hot she looked in both.

Sophie, who glared at him down the length of the bar with a notable lack of the respect Ajax was used to receiving, especially from soft, breakable females who usually purred and got silly when they took a good look at him.

“Oh, hey there, Sean,” she replied after a long moment, her green eyes cool and haughty, like she was a goddamned queen instead of a half naked girl with a death wish, throwing around names she knew better than to use. “Long time no see.”

“Call me that again,” he suggested, in what he considered a friendly manner given the insult she’d just thrown at him, though he wasn’t entirely surprised when Tulane backed away from him in a wide-eyed rush, “and I might be the last thing you ever see.”

“Let me guess,” she replied, “you spent all this time in charm school?” Was it his imagination that she sat taller on her stool, then arched her back just enough to make those tits stick out a little further? Like she was trying to fuck with him? “Between you and me, you might think about asking for your money back. I don’t think it took.”

He forgot who she was for a moment, forgot the respect she was owed because of her father. He grinned at her instead, the way he would any other bitch who got in his face like that, flinging down challenges from across a public bar like he was some dickless frat boy. Ajax had always had a pretty face. No one tended to notice it much after the first time he grinned at them like that, though.

“No need to resort to all this flirting, baby,” he told her softly. “If you want to hop on and ride my dick, just ask.”

Sophie smiled at him, and it was not a nice smile. It was all the proof he needed that she wasn’t that sweet little girl he remembered, and he was a sick fuck, because it fascinated him to see she had her father’s fangs when she felt like showing them. He wanted them sunk in his neck. He wanted her to draw blood.

He wanted her, bad.

Megan Crane is a New Jersey native who had great plans to star on Broadway, preferably in Evita, just like Patti LuPone. Sadly, her inability to wow audiences with her singing voice required a back-up plan. Accordingly, she graduated from Vassar College and got her MA and PhD in literature from the University of York in England. She wrote her doctoral dissertation on AIDS literature, mostly so she could wallow in her obsession with the remarkable multimedia artist David Wojnarowicz and her idol, the bitter and hilarious David Feinberg. After many years in the rain and subject to the whim of seasons, she followed the sun to Los Angeles, where she lives with too many pets and an artist named Jeff. She is still plotting her Broadway debut.

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

Website: http://www.megancrane.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/MeganCraneAndCaitlinCrews
Twitter: https://twitter.com/megancrane
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/121724.Megan_Crane