Only For You, Pieces for You and Temper For You by Genna Rulon Reviews ~Kami

MY REVIEWS :

Only For You

Women are being attacked on the Hensley University campus. Everleigh and her roommate Sam are scared and enroll in a self-defense class where they meet Hunter. The writing of this book is really good but I thought that the pacing was glacially slow at times. The romance between Everleigh and Hunter is really nonexistent, they are friends even though there is an obvious attraction. I liked the characters and thought that they should just get it on already, but something is holding Hunter back. Definitely a lot of unbearable sexual tension going on in this book. I had to keep reading just to see if they would ever do the deed or even kiss for that matter. A slow beginning, but towards the end things got really exciting and scary. And then the romance at the end. A really good read. 4 stars.

Pieces For You

This is Sam's story after her brutal attack and her subsequent treatment, recovery and healing. This was, from the beginning, a difficult story for me to read. Sam is at the Phoenix Center and like the mythical Phoenix she is going to rise from the ashes and be reborn. I didn't have as much problem with the pacing of this book as I did with the first. It makes sense that Sam's recovery would take a long time, she is a survivor of horrible violence. Sam and Griffin's banter was really cute and I was enjoying the growing romance between the two of them. This was a brilliantly written love story that actually brought me to tears. I was really rooting for Sam and Griffin to find their  happiness and love. I like this book more than the first one. 5 stars.

Temper For You


This is Meg's story. Meg is still living with Sam, though Sam is living with Griffin at the end of the second book. Apparently the timeline of this book doesn't begin right at the end of the second book. Everleigh and Hunter are married.  Westly, the lawyer who represented the family of Sam's attacker and tried to buy her off is moving in next door. Meg, though livid, is still very much attracted to him. Westly, with his questionable morals, still feels that he is justified in his actions and he was trying to do the best for everyone. Protect his clients, pay the victims restitution, lock away the sociopath and  keep everyone out of the papers. For a bottom feeding lawyer Westly isn't all bad, in fact he has layers of good in him. This book is interesting and well-written like the other two. The pacing is vastly improved from the first book. I was drawn into Meg's story. Something is up with Meg, she hints that she's a bad apple and the reader has to keep reading to find out why. I was more interested in finding out Meg's secrets  than her developing relationship with Westly. It took 17 chapters before I was pretty sure I knew what was going on with Meg. She is in hiding and the people she ran from are on their way to get her. I thought the second book, Sam and Griffin's story Pieces for you was my favorite book of this series until I started reading the last hundred pages of this book. This book is absolutely amazing. I loved it so much. The series just keeps getting better. I wonder how the author can possibly top this one. 5 stars. 

Temper For You

For You Series, book #3

By Genna Rulon

Synopsis:

"Life is messy. Love is messier." -Catch and Release

Meg Adeio has led a life of isolation—not by choice, by necessity—until one act of heroism forces her out of seclusion. Despite a past shrouded in mystery, Meg is “adopted” by an eclectic group of friends that become the family she never had. Life was good for the first time in…ever.

Or it was until Westly Black reappeared on her doorstep. She knew he was the last man any woman should give her time to—only good for one thing—yet a temptation no woman could deny. Wes might make her life messy, but Meg’s eyes were wide open and she had it under control. At least she thought she did.

When past and present collide, loyalties are tested, forcing Meg to sacrifice her future to protect those she loves.

Temper For You is a gripping story of regret, deception, and redemption – filled with raw emotion, sarcastic wit, intrigue, and love’s propensity to forgive.


• Though Temper For You is a part of the For You Series, it can be read as a stand alone
• This story is appropriate for readers 18+

Amazon:   www.amazon.com/Temper-You-Genna-Rulon-ebook/dp/B00NUIJTF6/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1411522224&sr=1-1&keywords=temper+for+you

Goodreads:  www.goodreads.com/book/show/19305363-temper-for-you#other_reviews

About Genna Rulon:

Genna Rulon is a contemporary romance author with a passion for blending comedy, tragedy, suspense, and hope to create her “book babies.” 

During her 15 years in the corporate world, Genna—inspired by her love of reading—fantasized about penning her own stories.  Encouraged by her favorite authors, many of whom are indie writers and self-published, she committed to pursue her aspirations of writing her own novels.

Genna was born in California and raised on Long Island in New York, where she still resides, surrounded by the most amazing family and friends.  She’s married to a wonderful man who patiently tolerates her ramblings about whichever book she is currently working on—even feigning interest relatively convincingly!  Genna is blessed with two little boys who do their best to thwart mommy's writing time with their hilarious antics and charming extrapolations.

All of Genna’s books are brought to you courtesy of coffee and Disney Junior.

You can find Genna online at:   www.gennarulon.com

Or you can contact Genna through social media:

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Genna would love to hear from you, and will personally respond to all messages!  You can contact her via email as follows:  genna@gennarulon.com

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EXCERPTS and QUOTES:

1. Until the foursome strong-armed their way into my life, I’d never sought the intimacy of friendship. It wasn’t because I didn’t want it, mind you, but you can’t want something you don’t believe exists…something you’ve never seen.  And like love, friendship has never been anything more than an abstract concept or literary device…at least in my experience.  The possibility of melting the ice of loneliness encasing a soul was unfathomable to someone who had never felt the warmth of support or care.  That warmth was like a drug, and I had to be very careful not to become an addict, mindlessly searching for my next hit of affection.  I knew without a doubt that I would have to live without it again one day in the not-so-distant future…regardless of how much the thought tore at my heart.

When all was said and done, I was still rotting, and I wouldn’t—couldn’t—contaminated those I’d grown to love.

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2.  

     Son of a bitch!     

     I marched back to my house, dodging furniture and movers along the way, not stopping until I reached my home office where my cell phone and solitude were located.

     Son. Of. A. Bitch!

I swore if I ever saw her again I would either:  a) pretend I didn’t know her, or b) coax her into my bed.  Nothing in either plan dictated cursing at her; it was an inexcusable fumble.  Dammit!  The only good news was that my father wasn’t alive to hear me confess my crimes.  He would have ripped me a new one for talking to a lady that way, even if the description had been accurate—which unfortunately, it was not.  Therefore, I couldn’t even comfort myself with the knowledge that I simply verbalized the truth because Meg was a lot of things, but she was definitely not a bitch.

Meg…when she opened the door, it knocked the wind out of me.  I’d convinced myself—after she unceremoniously kicked me to the curb in the middle of the coffee shop—that my memories were idealized after nine months fantasizing about her.  Nope.  She was even more stunning than I remembered, and every part of me responded to the sight of her.  My brain stalled, deprived of oxygen, as all of the blood in my body detoured southward.  And while some parts appeared to be stupefied into complete stillness—such as my mouth, which seemed unable to form words—another part of me was rising to the occasion and begging for attention.  Yes, Little West was pointing due north.

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3. I may have slept, but I didn’t rest.  My dreams were plagued by warm caramel eyes that promised endless hours of yet unknown satisfaction.  Damn the man.  He was the single most beautiful creature I had ever seen…devastating, that was the word for him.  If the whole sleazebag-lawyer thing didn’t work out, there’s no doubt Calvin Klein or Armani would be knocking down his door.  His defined bone structure with high cheek bones, prominent jaw, and strong brow were every woman’s fantasy.  And his lips…I wanted to bite those full, luscious lips.  Add the chocolate brown hair that begged to be pulled while locked in an undulating embrace…irresistible!

What was wrong with me?  I knew he was a conscienceless miscreant.  Shouldn’t that knowledge work as a sedative to my recently awakened—and usually dormant—sex drive?  But no, my otherwise mute inner hussy jumped up and down, shouting like a drunken sorority girl after losing her third game of flip-cups, every time he entered a room.

It had taken months after I’d learned who he was and what he had done to force him from my mind.  I lied to my friends, pretending to dismiss him without a second thought, but I couldn’t lie to myself—I still craved him in an unfamiliar and overwhelming fashion.

And now he was going to live next door.

We didn’t even have a few feet of lawn separating us…no, he was a narrow flower bed away.  I could only wonder what I had done to piss off the bitch known as karma to justify this turn of events.

That’s a lie.

I knew what I had done, and I deserved every torturous moment.

Lying alone in my bed last night, I could practically feel his presence seeping through the sheetrock, tormenting me.  As my hand slid down my stomach in response, I chided myself before firmly tucking both hands beneath my pillow to ward off any temptation.  Subsequently, I spent the next hour debating the merits of moving out before vowing not to let him run me off.

He. Would. Not. Win.

Yep, a double dose of chocolate was necessary this morning.

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4. “Megalicious, get your butt down here and have some dinner with us,” Sam called from downstairs.

After unburying myself from a mountain of books, I headed to the kitchen. Griffin was unloading an insane amount of Chinese food on the table while Sam brought over the drinks.

“I see you guys decided to order one of everything on the menu,” I laughed, only partially kidding.

“He’s a growing boy,” Sam teased while patting Griffin’s stomach.  “Plus, he needs to build up his energy…I have big plans for him,” she finished with a salacious grin directed at her man.

Griffin swatted her tush playfully in response.  “Your plans for me involve rearranging all the furniture in your bedroom, and not in the way I’d prefer.  Food may be the deposit, but that smile better be hinting at settling the remaining balance in more enjoyable ways.”

“We’ll see how much you complain about the rearranging, then I’ll make my decision on any tips,” Sam said.

“Lo, please…you can’t resist me,” he said with utter confidence.  “But don’t worry, I can’t resist you either—never could.”

I loved seeing them like this.  Sam had overcome more obstacles than any single person should ever have to face.  Life may have broken her, but she pulled herself back together— with the help of Griffin—and was stronger now than ever before.  She was the person I wished I could be: pure and brave, she was goodness personified.   I may be three years older than Sam, but I looked up to her, despite the fact that she regularly embarrassed me with her lack of filter and inappropriate over-shares.  Sam was Sam, and in her own way she was looking out for me.  She’d found her happily ever after, and now she was on a mission to find mine …even if she had to cram it down my throat.  I loved her for caring though.

Griffin captured my attention with a nudge and stage whispered, “How much you want to bet that after rearranging the furniture three times, she’ll decide to put it back in the original spots?”

“I’ll bet you five dollars you can distract her and never wind up lifting a bulging bicep,” I countered at full volume.

Sam’s eyes narrowed at Griffin.

“Dammit, Meg.  Stop foiling my evil schemes.  Now she’s onto me.”

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5. “I’m not saying you should marry the guy.  He definitely has some dubious personality traits.  But, there is nothing to say you couldn’t use him for a little hmmuna, hmmuna and then be on your merry way with no guilt, no strings, and no heartbreak.  In a way, he’s perfect for what you need.  Your moderate disdain would allow you to let it be only about sex.  Plus, you don’t have to like a man to have sex with him.  From the look of him, that is the only thing you should ever count on him for…mind-blowing, headboard banging, sweaty deliciousness—”

“Ahem,” Griffin loudly cleared his throat, interrupting Sam’s vivid description.  “I’m still sitting here, Lo.  And despite a healthy dose of self-confidence, I’d rather my woman not openly recount her fantasies about another man.  Call me old-fashioned.”

“Oh please, why would I want him when I have all of that,” she said, gesturing to Griffin’s mountainous physique, “at my beck and call?  I know where my bread is buttered.  I know who greases my wheel.  I know who licks my—”

“Okay, we get it,” I interrupted, saving myself from a visual I didn’t need stored on the hard drive of my brain.  “You are a very happy woman who has no need to use her imagination when real life surpasses it.  No need to elaborate further.”

“Anyway…my point remains, Westly is definitely not relationship material, but he is the epitome of what a one-night-stand should be.  I actually feel bad that you didn’t get to ride that wave,” Sam sighed, sounding disheartened.  “Then again, he’s probably a pro at the love ‘em and leave ‘em routine.  You could still take advantage of his benefits package though, and there wouldn’t be any weirdness when you issued his pink slip.”

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6. “You want to deny me and yourself?  I’ll give you that play—for now.  Let’s find out how much persuasion it’ll take for your house to fall.  What’s between us can’t be ignored, Meg, and don’t forget, persuasion is my bread and butter.  Make no mistake, it will happen, and when it does, I will enjoy every second. And so will you…All. Night. Long.”

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7. “Look…Sam is ever-so-slightly insane.  It may be a new form of Tourette’s, but I’m waiting to hear back from the Psych department for confirmation.  Despite her best intentions, she has an astounding propensity to embarrass me.  You are just one in a series of cringe-worthy moments so don’t think you’re anything special, and whatever you do, don’t read too much into anything she said.  Nothing is going to happen between us.”

She was so certain, I almost believed her—almost.

I grabbed the edges of her stool and spun until we were face-to-face, the change of position creating the illusion of privacy and removing the deliberate need for her to speak to me over her shoulder.  I expected a protest but was pleasantly surprised when the only reaction I received was a raised brow.

“That’s better.  Now, was Sam telling the truth?  Are you interested in a no strings…friendship?  Because I can promise I am a very accommodating friend.  And you won’t find anyone less capable of strings than me,” I finished with a salacious smile full of carnal promise.

She leaned into me, her body already buying what I was selling.  It was a moment of weakness I needed to capitalize on.

Splitting the distance between us, I locked my eyes onto hers, my mouth mere inches from her pouty lips.  It was my last chance and I damn well knew it.  Time for the most persuasive closing argument of my life.

“There aren’t many things I’m truly exceptional at.  I’ll never be husband material.  I’m a shit friend most of the time.  I believe the ends usually justify the means.  My moral fiber is questionable, at best.  I will never be the person you call when you’re in a bind or need a shoulder to lean on.  I don’t express my feelings, mostly because I don’t have any that aren’t shallow.  I don’t like animals as a general rule, and children—no, just no,” I paused, asking myself what the hell I was saying as the same question echoed in her eyes.  Too late now—in for a penny, in for a pound.  “The only steadfast rule I have is I do not sleep with someone else’s woman—ever.  Other than that one display of principles, I have few redeeming qualities.  There are two areas I excel, the law and sex—and when I say I excel, I mean I’m a fucking god.  You will forget your own name because all you’ll be able to do is scream mine…over and over again.  You want no-strings, mind-blowing sex?  There is no one better qualified.”

Her eyes were wide as saucers and her mouth slightly open, which I took as an invitation.  Without warning, I closed the gap between us, brushing my lips against her silky pink ones.  I took advantage of her shock and slid my tongue inside, tasting and teasing.  It was a kiss meant to entice, not conquer—that would come later.  I gently nipped her plump lower lip with my teeth and was rewarded with a sharp inhale of desire.  She was so close to surrender I could taste it—sweet and hot, with a hint of vanilla and cranberry.

Her resistance collapsed, marked by the alluring breasts suddenly pressed against my chest—victory.  I grasped her hips, pulling until she was pressed firmly against me, undoubtedly able to feel the steely effect of her kiss.  As I subtly rocked my hips against her core, warm fingers twined through my hair, tugging me closer, causing a groan of pained pleasure to escape from my mouth into hers.

Unwilling to continue my exploration with a bar full of witnesses, I attempted to pull away—an attempt met with unintelligible protests.  I couldn’t risk giving her an opportunity for second thoughts, so I did what any sane man would do.  I slid my hands down to cup her lush ass, lifting until her legs wrapped around my waist, and without breaking the kiss, I carried her out of the bar.  Perhaps I was more of a gentleman than I’d given myself credit for.

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8. Wes’ hands grasped the back of my head, tugging my mouth against his for a kiss so suggestive it should require protection.  

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9.   He stopped.

The son-of-a-bitch stopped.

My chest heaved with unquenched lust and searing anger.  Anger that spread like wildfire when he chuckled.

“Don’t hate me.  We’re here, and given the choice I prefer you come on my tongue while naked and spread across my bed—not fully clothed, in a car like a high school kid chasing a quick release.”

Hmm, how about that—we were parked in his garage.  Who knew?  Still, I was so damn close.

“What about my preference?” I retorted, not bothering to mask my irritation.  “I was so close.”

“It’ll be worth the three-minute delay.  Let me make this good for you—isn’t that the point of this arrangement?”

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