Title: Flame
Series: Fire on The Mountain #2
Release Date: August 6, 2015
I’m soaring.
After years of hard work and determination, I am exactly where I want to be in life. As the top ranked Freestyle Motocross rider in the world, I have more money than I could ever dream of spending and gorgeous women throwing themselves at me in every city I land. I have everything I could ever want.
Everything except her.
While in Breckenridge for my best friend’s wedding, I was introduced to Dakota Shavell, a friend of the bride-to-be, and from the moment our blue gazes met, sparks flew.
What I initially intended to be a single steamy night together turned into a scorching two week road trip to New Orleans with a sassy-mouthed blonde. Being between her legs gave me a bigger adrenaline rush than I’d ever gotten from flying through the air while straddling a bike.
It was supposed to just be fun, a good time. I planned to walk away unchanged.
But it was more. Feelings I never intended to have got involved, and I’ll never be the same.
Yet, I still walked away.
Except now I’m injured and my outlook has changed. Priorities have become clear.
And I’m going back to reclaim her…to show her that together we can make the fire between us burst into flames.
***Though Flame is the second book in the Fire on the Mountain Series, it is an interconnected stand alone novel***
There is currently a wild fire occupying my lady bits. It's been there since I finished this book and I don't see it going away any time soon.
This book wasn't just flame worthy, it was HOT. The female lead, Dakota, was confident and extremely sexy. The male lead, Levi, was an alpha that could tame me any day. Seriously, ANY DAY. Those two had a chemistry in and out of the sheets that could not be beat.
The author not only created a steamy book, she created a book that will stick with you for a while...if the burning in between my thighs says anything about it. Honestly, if I could rate this book 10 stars, I would!
~ Review by Kelly
Swiping the hotel key card across the magnetic reader, the green dot on the lock lights up, and I swing open the door to get my first look at home for the next five days. The suite at the trendy W Hotel in the French Quarter appears to be pretty fucking nice…that is, what I can see of it.
The couch in the corner is covered in a shitload of shopping bags, assorted colors and sizes, from what looks like every store in a fifty-mile radius. The small dining table is hidden by a leftover room service tray and an empty bottle of wine; the unused glasses were apparently not necessary. And strewn across the rumpled bed covers are Dakota’s purse, duffel bag, and phone, as well as several magazines. It appears that my little Sunshine has made herself quite comfortable while I was out at the track, which makes me unexpectedly happy. I like seeing all her shit everywhere. I like that she is who she is with me. Unapologetically.
I continue to move forward into the suite before I let that thought scare the shit out of me.
As I enter the bedroom portion of the suite, the first thing I hear is the hum of running water in the bathroom, and my first thought is, Hell yeah, let’s conserve water! But before I can barrel in there and rip my clothes off, Dakota begins the worst rendition of Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’” I’ve ever heard in my life.
Choking back my laughter, I stand outside the door for several minutes and listen to her butcher one of the best driving songs ever. It’s bad. So terribly bad. Part of me is tempted to record it. You never know when good material like that can be handy, but I can’t pull myself away.
With tears threatening to spill onto my cheeks, I hold my gut and lean on the doorframe for balance, eavesdropping for the entire performance, beginning to end. Finally, after she belts out the final terribly-off-key lyric, I’m able to calm down a little. Though, I’m now well aware she’ll be the first thing I think of anytime I hear that song.
The list is growing. The color yellow. Anything Incredible Hulk. Massages. Body shots. Nipple rings. Ghost-hunting. Hot air balloons. Dragons. The roofs of buses. And now “Free Fallin’”. She’s ruining me a little more each day.
Fucking hell. I’m starting to sound like Gunner’s pussy-whipped ass.
The water abruptly turns off and I jump backward at least a foot, thankful she didn’t see my guilty-as-fuck reaction. Quickly scooting away from the door, I fling open my suitcase and pretend to be unpacking my stuff as she emerges from the steamy bathroom.
“Oh hey, Hulk. I didn’t hear you come in.” Her mouth curls up in an impish grin when she sees me, probably assuming I’ve been out here thinking about her naked in the shower. “Why didn’t you come in and join me?”
I give her my best innocent boy look, deciding to wait a while before I burst her bubble about what I heard. “I just assumed it was locked. Sorry. So used to being on the bus.”
“And since when have you cared about locks on the bus?” she quips. “You usually take what you want, when you want it. Isn’t that what you told me once?”
Standing next to the king-size bed, she loosens her grip on the white towel draped around her sexy-as-sin body, and as the terrycloth falls to the floor, it whooshes away any thoughts with it that don’t involve me buried to the hilt inside her. Maybe I’ll add white towels to the list too.
My brazen gaze roams the length of her body, absorbing every delicious fucking inch of what she’s offering. She is fucking exquisite. Water droplets glisten on her smooth, freshly washed skin, begging me to lick them off, calling out to me like I’m a man dying from dehydration. God, I’m fucked.
ALSO AVAILABLE IN THE FIRE ON THE MOUNTAIN SERIES
Spark will be sure to ignite a fire in you. Whether it be the emotional turmoil or the fire in between your legs - there will be an inferno!
I wasn't sure what to expect from this book, from the blurb, but I knew it was going to be unconventional. What I didn't know was how much this book was going to wreak havoc on my emotions. It's safe to say I fell in love - with the characters, with their story and with their heartbreak. I have never read an author that had me crying from laughter and from sadness...at the same time. My poor tissues never got a break.
This book deserves five stars and more!
Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in History at the University of Houston, she rediscovered her love for reading that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child.
A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels. Her titles published include the Book Boyfriend Series, the Dusk ‘Til Dawn Series, Translucent, Conspire — co-authored with SE Hall, Surviving Us, MILF: Wrong Kind of Love and Spark.
Her books have been a part of the USA Today Bestselling list and the Amazon and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100.
