A fallen boxer.
A woman with a broken dream.
He even makes me forget my name. One night was all it took, and I forgot everything and anything except the sexy fighter in the ring who sets my mind ablaze and my body on fire with wanting…
Remington Tate is the strongest, most confusing man I’ve ever met in my life.
He’s the star of the dangerous underground fighting circuit, and I’m drawn to him as I’ve never been drawn to anything in my life. I forget who I am, what I want, with just one look from him. When he’s near, I need to remind myself that I am strong–but he is stronger. And now it’s my job to keep his body working like a perfect machine, his taut muscles primed and ready to break the bones of his next opponents . . .
But the one he’s most threatening to, now, is me.
I want him. I want him without fear. Without reservations.
If only I knew for sure what it is that he wants from me?
Rating 5 out of 5
HOLY AMAZEBALLS! Between the synopsis and the cover, I was all in before I had even started reading. And then I got to experience all that is REAL. Remington Tate not only has a badass fucking name, but he is a man worth fighting for and fighting over. Katy Evans took a fairly common storyline (badass fighter, broken girl, lots of wet panties) and blew it to smithereens. This book is exactly as the series is titled, Real, Raw, and Ripped. That’s right, there will be more installments to this series. According to Katy Evans, “The series will have 5 total! Brooke and Remy get three. REAL, then the sequel, MINE, and then REMY (Real in Rem’s POV). Then Melanie (Brooke’s best friend) gets a story and we see more of Rem and Brooke through her . . . and then we get a last book. Surprise.”
Brooke and her wet panties got a little on my nerves, but I can’t blame the girl. Seriously, I was having the same problem just reading about the hotness of Remy. But REAL is so much more than just a book about a fighter and the girl he wants. It touches on some serious issues that are very close to my heart and Katy Evans handled it with beauty and grace. While we keep it raw around here, we hate spoilers so you’ll have to forgive me in my vagueness.
I could give you a play by play of the plot and completely spoil a book that needs to be experienced on so many levels. There is humor, and angst, and lust, and love, and some heartache. The characters are all believable and easy to relate to. The dialogue is phenomenal! And the music was another clencher for me. Music is the song of our souls and it played an important part in Brooke and Remy’s story. I was googling songs and listening along. The music only added to my crush on my beloved “Riptide”. Remy is a man of few words, but the words he gives to Brooke are panty drenching, heart clenching and REAL. Let me give you some examples:
“I’m every woman’s adventure, damn you, and I don’t want to be yours. I want to be your REAL.”
“You tie me up in knots. I want to play you a thousand different songs so you can get a clue of what… I feel inside me…”
“He smells my neck and then buzzes the back of my ear, and whispers into me, “You’re my mate, and I’ve claimed you.”
Do you see what I am trying to express to you? This book is REAL. Read it.
Rating 5 out of 5
Real, is about as real as it can get.
Broken dreams, broken hearts, and broken bones.
This book is a minding blowing, eye-opening, and bone shattering whirlwind. Remington Tate is as original and raw as his name. A former professional MMA fighter, banded for misconduct, Remy is all man. A lonely, violent man in desperate need of a chance to prove his worth, a chance to break his soul and clean out the shit life put inside him, a chance to conquer a disease that controls his every thought and emotion captive. But he needs someone to hold the trigger down, otherwise bodies bleed. And when Brooke is hired to rearrange and soothe his battered body, an unlikely relationship, fueled by music and temptation, forms a connection so real, so riveting it’s as if your reading multiple loves stories at once. And when Remy is finally given a chance to prove his love for Brooke, he never falters; no matter how much Brooke hates him for it…
These characters bleed their love for one another. Remy’s obsession with Brooke is translated so flawlessly from writer to reader, it’s as if you’re as loved crazed as him. You feel every violent ping in your chest, every jaw clench, and every broken bone. Then you feel the release. The peace Brooke brings to his soul and you can’t help but feel a peace too.
Be forewarned, this book will consume you. So grab a box of tissues and a bottle of wine and be ready, because when Remy enters your life, it’s like a Rip-Tide.
Excerpt from REAL:
The crowd is so vast, people are even pushing out into the hallway and making so much noise I can’t help thinking what a blessing it is the other two enormous presidential suites at the top hotel floor are empty, or else we’d probably be looking for somewhere else to sleep tonight.
I’m disappointed I haven’t even been able to see him since he showered and changed. He was flocked by admirers and is being brought to the hotel by a group of old Miami friends, who are letting him drive the Ferrari one of them brought.
Now, as I wind through all the people crammed in what is supposedly my and Remy’s suite, I wonder if I should join the merriment and go all out and get drunk, when applause breaks out by the entry, followed by unmistakable cheers only one man I know can cause. He comes into the room carried on the shoulders of four guys. My heart stutters. He’s got this big smile on his face, cocky Remy to the tenth power, high on his wins, and the women scream, high on him. “Remy! Remyyyy!”
“That’s right—who’s the man?” he shouts, and pounds his fists on his chest. I laugh, completely sucked in, mesmerized and enchanted by him. The aura he emanates makes him blaze like a sun tonight. If right now he said he could fly, I think we’d all believe him. Everyone present seems magnetized by him, helplessly gravitating to where he is. He spots me, and his smile softens and his eyes light with a strange, hungry, and somehow glowing look. “Brooke.”
He hops down to his feet and beckons me forward, and the crowd parts to let me pass. He smiles at me, and his dancing blue eyes hold mine as he slowly walks forward and meets me halfway. He lifts me in his powerful arms and swings me around, and then he kisses me.
The instant he takes my lips, fireworks shoot off in my body.
All the pent-up desire of days and weeks adds up to this one moment when everything that I am, and everything that I want, is narrowed down to this. To me, pulling Remington Tate’s dark head closer to mine as I open my mouth and let him give me anything and everything he wants to.
His kiss spins my stomach into a wild swirl. He holds me tightly by the hips and deftly moves his lips as he rubs his tongue to mine. A rumble vibrates deep in his core as he gathers me closer and forces me to feel his erection, all while he angles his head and tongue fucks my mouth like there’s no tomorrow.
People whoot loudly nearby, and when they tell him to “go fuck that pussy!” Remy tears free. He breathes harshly through his nose as he drags his mouth to my ear, where he whispers, hot and gruff, “You’re mine tonight.”
A fevered moan escapes me. He cups my face in those big hands that make me feel fragile and tiny, and he hungrily recaptures my mouth. He takes it slowly this time, as if I’m precious and valuable. “Tonight you’re mine.”
He looks into my face again, his eyes seething with desire. I think I just nodded in agreement, but I’m too shaky to know for sure. A sweltering fever runs unleashed through me. My legs won’t stop trembling as every one of my cells screams in lust because I want him now. I want him now.
“Remy, I want you, take me!” a woman shouts, but he ignores her, ignores everything. But me.
His eyes dark and intent, he scrapes the sides of my face with the pads of his big, callused thumbs, then spreads his fingers wide over my scalp as he kisses me again, our mouths hot and wet as they blend, thirsty and anxious. I grip the soft gray material of the T-shirt he wears in my fists, dying with sensation. I don’t even care who’s watching, am oblivious to the crude things they’re whistling. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted this, needed this, until these shivers ripple through me and I’m in flux under his insistent sexy mouth, the look in his eyes that makes me feel like I’m the only woman alive to him.
“Take her to your room, Tate!” someone yells. But he seems engrossed only in me, and I in him.
Holding me protectively in his strong arms, he brushes my hair back as his lips buzz along the bare curve between my neck and collar, his fingers sliding up my neck as he once again, like a chant, nuzzles my ear and tells me, “Mine. Tonight.”
And coming soon to a Target near you!
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