Blog Tour Review & Giveaway: Surviving Ice by K. A. Tucker

Surviving Ice is the 4th book in the Burying Water series and can be read as a standalone.  We are introduced to Ivy in one of the other books but we don’t know much about her. Surviving Ice takes us to San Francisco where Ivy Lee has finally decided to possibly plant some roots since her uncle who she loves like a father lives and runs his tattoo parlor.  Ivy is a truly talented tattoo artist who is generally has a tough as nails exterior and personality to go along with it.  The intensity of the plot line starts immediately when her uncle is murdered and Ivy is the only witness.  Enter Ice/Sebastian who is supposed to find a lone VHS tape that can’t get out about his employer.

Sebastian is a former Navy Seal with a not so honorable discharge now working for a company where he is a bit of a mercenary.  He is sent in because of his efficency and precision.  He forces a meeting with Ivy and the two quickly begin a complicated dance around each other.  There is an instant chemistry between Ivy and Sebastian but both have walls built up around them that are almost impenetrable.  As the story unfolds, Ivy begins to trust Sebastian although their relationship is built around large lies.  Sebastian gives Ivy more of himself than he has to anyone in the last few years of his life but is it enough to build a relationship.

The ending of this book was a bit anticlimatic. I wanted more action and a bit more suspense.  However, KA Tucker sets a steady pace and creates some of the most fascinating characters in her books.  Burying Water has been a great series to read and every book is so different from the next.  I enjoyed Surviving Ice and look forward to Ms. Tucker’s next series.

And don’t miss the previous titles in the Burying Water Series!

BURYING WATER:

Amazon ** Barnes & Noble ** iBooks ** Kobo ** IndieBound

BECOMING RAIN

Amazon ** Barnes & Noble ** iBooks ** Kobo ** IndieBound

CHASING RIVER

Amazon ** Barnes & Noble ** iBooks ** Kobo ** IndieBound

“We’re closed!” I yell, whipping my head around, my anger at myself for not locking it launched.

A man I’ve never seen before stands motionless in front of me, amusement in his eyes as he stares. Nothing else about him betrays his thoughts, though. His stance is still and relaxed, his angular face perfectly composed.

My heart begins to race with unease.

“I’d like some work done.” His voice is deep, almost gravelly, his tone even and calm.

I climb to my feet, because I don’t like anyone towering over me. And because his piercing eyes unsettle me. Unlike the two-hundred-and-fifty-pound biker who just left, this guy makes me nervous. The wrench is still in my fist, and I grip it tightly now. “I’m not working today.”

“Tomorrow.”

“I’m not working tomorrow either.” The corner of his mouth twitches as we face off against each other. “When will you be working again, then?”

He’s patient. It’s annoying. But he also seems very interested in this tattoo, which makes it less likely that he’s here to hurt me. I relax my grip on the wrench. “I won’t be. Not here, anyway. Black Rabbit is closed for good, or at least until it opens under new ownership.”

He pauses, his shrewd gaze weighing so heavily on me that I finally have to look away from him. I feel like a sophomore year science class dissection—the unfortunate amphibian donated in the name of education. “That’s a shame.”

Either he’s not from around here or he hasn’t read the news. Or he’s one of those sickos who gets a kick out of crime scenes. “It is.” What’s really a shame is that this guy didn’t come a few weeks ago, because I gladly would have agreed to mark his entire body with my hands then.

On first-glance impression, he actually reminds me of Jesse Welles, the love of my teenage life, though I’d never admit that to anyone. This guy’s eyes are lighter—a cool chocolate rather than near-black—but they have that same intensity; a similar smirk sits atop his full lips. He, too, has dark hair coating his hard, masculine jaw; it’s just sculpted to a perfect short beard. He’s taller and broader than Jesse. Harder looking, not just by a few years of age but as if by life itself. That’s a little concerning, given the kind of life that Jesse Welles has already lived.

But there’s something distinctly different about this guy, too. I can’t quite place it, but I can feel it. Something slightly “off.” Or maybe it’s just this place that’s making everything in my life feel off—after all, my mind is still in a haze over Ned’s death. The last thing I should be thinking about right now is this guy or Jesse or getting laid.

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