Peaches Monroe, age 22, is a plus-sized beauty who spends quiet days with books, in the small town of Beaverdale, Washington.
One Saturday afternoon, she's balancing precariously on a chair, in a bridesmaid dress, when a handsome dark-haired man comes running into the bookstore. He knocks Peaches over, she lands in his muscular arms. They lock gazes, and ...
She recognizes him.
As the sexy vampire heartthrob she watches on TV once a week.
Peaches and Dalton Deangelo are completely wrong for each other. He's only in town temporarily, working on an indie movie. She should stay away. He should stay away, too.
But they're drawn to each other. Dalton claims it's because they're made from the same stardust. He says a lot of dramatic things, but it's his carbohydrate-free perfect body and sexy touch that turns Peaches to Jell-O.
Genre: NEW ADULT ROMANCE / Contemporary Romance / Erotic Romance
Buy We Are Made of Stardust:
Amazon - http://amzn.to/14vIWmi
Barnes & Noble - http://bit.ly/1abvAl6
Kobobooks - http://bit.ly/12ib911
Buy For You by Mimi Strong for 99 cents
Prior to reading We Are Made of Stardust, I had read three books by Mimi Strong, including Pretty Girls, The Kissing Coach, and For You. Though they all feature heroines with a bit of spunk and sass, they are, for the most part, dramatic stories with subject matters varying in degrees of seriousness. With a self-described “pleasantly plump” heroine nicknamed Peaches whose self-image has seesawed since high school, We Are Made of Stardust embraces a new type of heroine, injecting a bit of heartache and a whole lot of humor into this first installment of what will be a series about Petra “Peaches” Monroe.
Of the four books I have now read by Mimi Strong, We Are Made of Stardust is my favorite, not only because it’s one of the funniest books I’ve ever read, but because it’s incredibly fresh and unpredictable. While I had a vague inclination of how the book would end (it’s part of a series, after all), I never knew what would come out of the shockingly dirty mouths of Peaches and her love interest, Dalton Deangelo, who is as eccentric a character as the bad boy vampire he plays on television. When Dalton spouts lines like, “I’m, going to give you a dramatic on-screen kiss,” I’m torn between wanting to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation and wanting to swoon as I picture these words being delivered with a straight face by an Ian Somerhalder lookalike.
Usually when a book is funny, I’ll chuckle a bit and laugh aloud if something is particularly funny; with this book, I laughed so loud, I’m fairly certain I heard an echo. The source of most of my amusement, believe it or not, was the love scenes. Peaches’ claim to have a big mouth at the start of the book is entirely accurate, and I couldn’t wait to discover what she would say next. I lost track of the number of different euphemisms Peaches uses in reference to her lady bits and Dalton’s man parts. The increasingly inventive substitutive words somehow manage to make the love scenes both sexy and hilarious.
Part fantasy and part harsh reality, We Are Made of Stardust is a story that I connected with from the first page, thanks in large part to the book’s leading lady, who is my new favorite fictional heroine. Peaches is unlike any other book heroine I’ve come across, which why I find her so likeable. I enjoyed her colorful vocabulary and sympathized with her natural distrust toward her peers. I’m excited to follow the continuation of her journey in the follow-up to We Are Made of Stardust, which will pick up after a huge cliffhanger that came as a complete surprise, even after subtle hints were dropped throughout the book. I wasn’t entirely prepared for a revelation of this magnitude and I want to both curse and applaud Mimi Strong for leaving me on the edge of my seat.
Rating: 5 Stars
“Are we telling secrets now?”
“Either that or kissing. Your choice.”
I shook at the thought of divulging my secrets.
His gaze went to my lips and he leaned forward slowly.
He murmured, his voice low and barely audible, “I'm going to give you a dramatic on-screen kiss.”
I giggled in response, which normally would have made me cringe at my stupidity, but the way he was looking at me was so serious and sexy. I felt like my body was under water, with pleasant pressure pushing me together in all directions, but that at any moment, I might fly apart like so much stardust.
Dalton's expression got ultra-serious, and just like that, he turned into Drake Cheshire, the cultured vampire with a taste for big-lipped girls under one hundred pounds. He stared intensely at my eyes, my lips, my cleavage, my throat, my lips, and then up to my eyes again. I melted like a pat of butter on summer pavement.
He moved in closer, so our noses were an inch apart, and he repeated the intense look. Eyes. His, green like precious emeralds. Lips. Mine, slightly parted and trembling. Throat. Feeling very exposed. Cleavage. Mine, heaving. Probably. By the way I couldn't quite catch my breath.
His gaze slid back dreamily to my lips, and he tilted his head to the side, not yet touching his mouth to mine.
We held steady, the only movements our breathing and minor swaying with the motion of the vehicle. I could feel the heat from his skin against my lips. He tipped his head back and looked me in the eyes again.
Oh, the slow torture.
His hand moved from the outside of my thigh to the inside. I gasped. No nylons. Bare flesh. His hand was only at the hem line of my bridesmaid dress, but the way he was looking at me, it felt much more intimate. He took one of my legs firmly in both hands and pushed it to bring space between my legs, and then his hand traveled up further.
He breathed against my lips and blinked slowly as his hand moved in, up under the peach-hued tulle skirt of my dress. His fingertips grazed the silky material of my underwear.
I arched my back as the sensation of his touch blazed through me. A tiny sigh escaped my parted lips.