Title: Twice Upon a Blue Moon
Some affairs are like playing with fire, but knowing you’ll get burned is no reason to throw the game.
When her best friend doesn’t show up after a no-strings date with a man she met in a fetish club, Hazel is duty-bound to fetch her from what could be a sticky situation. She doesn’t expect to find her friend’s date so attractive—or so unflappably cool. Not that it matters. Hazel has been burned before and she knows to stay away from handsome men who are patently out of her league, especially when they’re involved with her one and only friend.
Tesla-driving, suit-wearing Dylan more than fits the bill. But every barb Hazel throws him makes him rise to the challenge, and he doesn’t want her to find a way to say no. But not only does Dylan have his own playroom and a sound grip on the S&M lifestyle, he’s also a man of many secrets. Dylan sees a place for Hazel in his bed, but what he wants is more than a one-night stand.
As she acclimates to the idea that Dylan may not be entirely straight or entirely single, Hazel soon finds herself caught between two dominant men whose bond seems to balance on a knife’s point.
Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of BDSM.
Author: Helena Maeve
Other books by this author that we've reviewed: Collision Course, A Smile as Sweet as Poison, Beyond the Poison Chalice, Seat Sixty-Five
Published by Totally Bound Source: Publisher
Published: March 13, 2015
Genres: BDSM, Menage
See the title at Goodreads
Purchase your copy: Amazon
Visit the Author's Website
Well Wham Bam Thank You Ma’am…may I have another? Hot damn this was a dozy.
As the story starts to build with each of the characters, it’s easy to see that everyone clearly has some baggage but that something traumatic happened to Hazel that has made her a little, off. I liked that everyone had issues and that each one had their own way of dealing with it.
Dylan is…different. The jury is still out on him as far as I’m concerned. I like him, but there is still…something there that we haven’t yet figured out. Ward…I really like him. When you mix any of these three together in any combination, there are definitely sparks and the playful, yet sometimes ridiculously honest banter is the best part.
Ok, lets talk about those scenes. Yep, “those” scenes = STEAM-Y. Dylan and Hazel = hot. Ward and Hazel = hot. Dylan, Ward and Hazel = WOWZA. The only thing missing was a little romp between Dylan and Ward. Crossing my fingers that that will be in the next one.
Would I recommend this? Yes, but only to those who are into reading BDSM and/or Menage. Those who haven’t read that genre wouldn’t like this so don’t waste your time.
Dear Author, please hurry and write the next one. Hazel is being a bad sub and hiding secrets. I want the boys to find out 😀
Desiring Diversity from Helena Maeve
Aliens forming an impression of our species through popular entertainment would probably assume we’re a majority Caucasian planet peopled by young, attractive, slim men and women with fabulous hair. I can only imagine their disappointment upon touching down to discover that not only do we come in all shades and sizes, but bad hair days are a dime a dozen.
Jokes aside, it’s no secret that popular media has a fairly blinkered view of what is attractive. Those of us who don’t fit the ideal are often turned into punchlines or stereotypes, which in turn inform a knee–jerk rejection of those who don’t conform to what is really a completely artificial standard.
A portly woman who fancies wearing a miniskirt? The horror. An Asian man who thinks he’s the hero of his story rather than the sidekick? Absurd.
On the surface, innocuous stereotypes have a real impact on how we view ourselves and each other. It’s telling that, in books, a character is often presumed white until proof to the contrary or a female character is slim unless otherwise described. Call it erasure, call it Hollywood myopia, but somehow we have come to believe that stories worth telling feature only a very narrow subset of humanity.
At the same time, diversity is often a controversial topic. Critique of tendentious portrayals is more and more prevalent—and rightly so. The Internet has democratized dissent, which can be a scary thing when trying to step outside the bounds of the familiar. Is it worse to caricature through ignorance than not to bother at all? Is it better to avoid the subject altogether?
I don’t have an easy answer but my personal approach is that to break my neck trying to tell stories I haven’t read yet that to play it safe.
In , my newest title from Totally Bound and the first in the Surface Tension trilogy, I desperately wanted to write an atypical heroine. Hazel is not only a college dropout making minimum wage, but she is also a far cry from the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition benchmark of feminine beauty.
Mixed signals are everywhere: she’ll be accosted by strangers in the street, but torn down by the people whose approval she craves. Like most of us, she has moments of insecurity about her looks and she constantly second-guesses what she deserves from life given what she has to offer. She’s also prone to comparing herself to her far more attractive friend, Sadie. Cue astonishment when a man who should be chasing after Sadie pursues her instead, dragging his roommate and sometimes-lover into bed with them.
Without giving too much away, I will say that the flattery of being desired by a drop-dead gorgeous man no more triggers a Cinderella moment for Hazel than her love stops Dylan from searching for his roots in China. Their insecurities are rooted in real world prejudices; self-reflected and quietly reinforced even by those they call friends.
If there is a common thread in their widely dissimilar stories, it’s in the strength that comes from having someone on your side. Of being smuggled out of your own little cocoon of misery and self-doubt, and elevated to something more stable and fulfilling. When so much of our confidence comes from how others see us, it doesn’t hurt to have a lover—or two—who look at you like you’ve hung the moon.
Unfortunately, prejudice can easily go beyond appearances and Hazel hides an even deeper fear: it’s one thing to love a girl with big thighs, it’s quite another to love that girl when she’s featured on a porn site…
Sadie had mentioned that Tall, Dark and Handsome lived in 3B. Judging by the lettering on the doorbell, he also went by ‘Best’. Hazel folded her fingers around the pepper spray can as she raised her other fist to the metal door.
Two loud raps tolled like claps of thunder. She winced with each one.
Seconds passed before the door clanged and unlatched. A dark-haired man stood in the gap wearing dark slacks and a white shirt, a Hugo Boss magazine spread made flesh. He cocked his
head, gaze gliding down her body. “Can I…help you?”
He didn’t seem to know what to do with Hazel’s jean and jean outfit. Good. She was the Hardy to Sadie’s Laurel, except blonde and pear-shaped. Where Sadie was slim and angular, Hazel strongly identified with the titular character in Kung-Fu Panda.
She could and would gladly sit on Mr. Best if he tried to stand in her way.
“Hazel!” Sadie’s voice rang out from somewhere inside the loft. She came into view a moment later, hopping on one foot as she struggled to slot her red pump onto the other. “Hey. What’re you doin’ here?” Whenever she let her guard down, Sadie’s accent came through loud and clear. Hazel could practically smell the hay bales.
Hazel tried not to squirm under their combined scrutiny. “It’s been an hour.” You were taking too long.
Best backed out of the doorway with a flourish. “Would you like to come in?” He flicked a hand in invitation, a soft smile playing across his bowed lips. “I make excellent margaritas.”
“No, thanks. I’m only here to pick her up.”
Sadie finally got her shoes on. “Sorry, we kinda lost track of time.” She pulled down the hem of her leather skirt. She didn’t seem to be sporting any bruises. “Didn’t we, darlin’?” Her dimpled smiles were known for melting hearts. It was a shame Sadie had a habit of squandering them on useless tools who never seemed to treat her right.
“It was an absolute pleasure,” Best replied. The kiss he planted on Sadie’s temple was tender enough to make Hazel want to look away. She didn’t.
Sadie giggled girlishly and slithered out of his arms. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”
“You have my number.” Best trained a pair of chocolate brown eyes on Hazel. “Maybe next time you’ll come in for a drink… I didn’t catch your name.”
“I didn’t give it.”
Hazel started for the stairs, content to disregard Sadie’s scandalized expression.
Helena Maeve has always been globe trotter with a fondness for adventure, but only recently has she started putting to paper the many stories she’s collected in her excursions. When she isn’t writing erotic romance novels, she can usually be found in an airport or on a plane, furiously penning in her trusty little notebook.
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