Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Madame X (Madame X #1) by Jasinda Wilder: Blog Tour Review, Excerpt & Giveaway


Blurb:

Madame X invites you to test the limits of control in this provocative new novel from New York Times bestselling author Jasinda Wilder.

My name is Madame X.
I’m the best at what I do.
And you’d do well to follow my rules...


Hired to transform the uncultured, inept sons of the wealthy and powerful into decisive, confident men, Madame X is a master of the art of control. With a single glance she can cut you down to nothing, or make you feel like a king.

But there is only one man who can claim her body—and her soul.

Undone time and again by his exquisite dominance, X craves and fears his desire in equal measure. And while she longs for a different path, X has never known anything or anyone else—until now...


Click to Buy the Madame X Series on Amazon:

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Excerpt:

A knock on the door, the silent swing of hinges, and then heat and hardness behind me, a faint but intoxicating hint of cologne, the creak of leather. Hands on my waist, lips at my neck. Breath on my skin.

I don’t dare tense, don’t dare suck in a sharp breath of fear. I don’t dare pull away.

Strong, hard, powerful hands twist me in place, and an index finger touches my chin, lifts my face, tilts my gaze. I cannot breathe, don’t dare, haven’t been given permission.

“You are lovelier than ever, X.” A deep, smooth, cultured voice, like the purr of a finely tuned engine.

“Thank you, Caleb.” My own voice is quiet, careful, my words chosen and precise.

“Scotch.” The command is a murmur, barely audible.

I know how to prepare it: a cut-crystal tumbler, a single ice cube, thick amber liquid an inch from the top. I offer the tumbler and wait, keep my eyes downcast, hands behind my back.

“You were too harsh on Jonathan.”

“I must respectfully disagree.”

“His father expects results.”

I bristle, and it does not go unnoticed. “Have I ever failed to produce results?”

“You sent him away after less than an hour.”

“He wasn’t ready. He needed to be shown his faults. He needs to understand how much he has to learn.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Ice clinks, and I take the empty tumbler, set it aside, and force myself to remain in place, force myself to keep breathing and remind myself that I must obey. “I didn’t come here to discuss Jonathan Cartwright, however.”

“I suppose not.” I shouldn’t have said that. I regret it as soon as the words tumble free.

My wrist bones scrape together under a crushing grip. Hard dark eyes find mine, piercing and frightening. “You suppose not?”

I should beg forgiveness, but I know better. I lift my chin and meet those cold, cruel, intelligent dark eyes. “You know I will fulfill the contract. That’s all I meant.”

“No, that isn’t all you meant.” A hand passes through artfully messy black hair. “Tell me what you really meant, X.”

I swallow hard. “You’re here for what you always want when you visit me.”

“Which is?” A warm finger touches my breastbone, slides into the valley of my cleavage. “Tell me what I want.”

“Me.” I whisper it, so not even the walls can hear.

“All too true.” My skin burns where that strong finger with its manicured nail traces a cutting line up to my shoulder. “You test my patience, at times.”

I stand stock-still, not even breathing. Breath whispers across my neck, huffs hot on my nape, and fingers toy with the zipper of my dress.

“I know,” I say.

And then, just when I expect to feel the zipper slide down my spine, body heat recedes and that hot breath now laced with hints of scotch is gone, and a single word sears my soul:

“Strip.”

My tongue scrapes over dry lips, and my lungs constrict, protesting my inability to breathe. My hands tremble. I know this is expected of me, and I cannot, dare not resist, or protest. And . . . part of me doesn’t want to. But I wish . . . I wish for the freedom to choose what I want.

I have hesitated too long.

“X. I said . . . strip.” The zipper slides down to between my shoulder blades. “Show me your skin.”

Reaching behind my back, I lower the zipper to its nesting place at the base of my spine. Hard, insistent hands assist me in brushing the sleeves from my shoulders, down my arms, and then the dress is floating to the floor at my feet. That’s all the help I’ll get. I know from long experience that I must make a show of what comes next.

I turn my head, and see tanned skin and the perpetual two-day stubble on a refined, powerful jawline, sharp cheekbones, firm, thin lips, black eyes like voids, eyes that drip desire. My hair drapes over one shoulder. I lift one knee so my now-bare toes touch the gleaming teak, curl my shoulders in, let my gaze show my vulnerability. With a deep breath, I unhook my bra, let the garment fall away.

I reach for my underwear.

“No,” comes the purr, “leave them. Let me.”

I let my fingers graze my thighs, wait. My underwear slides down slowly, and where fingers touch, so too do lips, hot and damp, touching my skin, and I cannot flinch, cannot pull away or express how badly I want only to be alone, to even once have the right to want something else.

But I do not have that right.

About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jasinda Wilder is a Michigan native with a penchant for titillating tales about sexy men and strong women. When she’s not writing, she’s probably shopping, baking, or reading.

​Some of her favorite authors include Nora Roberts, JR Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Liliana Hart and Bella Andre.

She loves to travel and some of her favorite vacations spots are Las Vegas, New York City and Toledo, Ohio.

You can often find Jasinda drinking sweet red wine with frozen berries and eating a cupcake.

Jasinda is represented by Kristin Nelson of the Nelson Literary Agency.

Social Media Links:

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Review by Michelle:

I always read with a reviewer's eye. I can't help it. I look for quotes, I highlight like a maniac, and I make notes like crazy to remind me of my thoughts and feelings while reading. My one and only problem with Madame X? I was so enthralled, so thoroughly immersed in this story, I made no notes, I forgot to highlight, and I even lost track of time and often my surroundings while reading. While this is quite the exhilarating feeling and the perfect experience as a reader, Madame X only made my task as a reviewer that much harder. Still, I just can't seem to muster any hard feelings whatsoever as my reading experience was so truly magical.

As always I am in awe of Jasinda Wilder's flowing, poetic, evocative prose. One of the many things that I love about this author is that she can not only write absolutely anything, but she always does it so very well. Madame X is darker, more sinister, and secretive than her sweet romances and especially her romantic comedies. Hinting at a bit of a modern day fairytale reminiscent of Rapunzel, Cinderella, and even a bit of Beauty and the Beast, if Madame X was in fact a fairytale it would have to be one of Grimm's as it is just too callous, too bleak, with nowhere near enough hearts and rainbows to satisfy Walt, yet it is just as wonderfully captivating, completely fascinating, and powerfully addicting as each and every one of her previous works. While her action packed romances have always been favorites of mine thus far, this new sinful style that she has embraced could quite possibly take the cake.

Everything about this story is one big puzzle from the start. The characters are total conundrums, mysteries that from the very beginning you can't be sure you will ever truly figure out, yet you feel obsessively compelled to try. The very first sentence of this book peaked my interest and I was held captive ever since. With a voracious appetite I absolutely devoured this story and the mystery and intrigue of it all kept me glued to the pages searching for each clue, each missing piece, each tiny detail that masterfully comes together in the end then leaves you reeling as you are inundated with an abundance of even more unanswered questions.

This story is so mystifying, so illusive, I barely knew which way was up, yet I was utterly mesmerized and completely consumed. The way in which it is told is unique and spellbinding. The way in which it unravels is nothing short of bewitching. Millions of questions swirl leaving you disoriented and breathless throughout as your feelings run the gamut from attraction to repulsion, fear and loathing to respect and admiration, horrified to forgiving, thoroughly confused, extremely excited, all too anxious, and absolutely every possible emotion in between. Jasinda Wilder is able to evoke the most thrilling of experiences as one moment you are consumed with resentment and frustration and the next you find yourself questioning everything you thought you knew and wondering what the real story is, who to believe, who to side with, what the truth really is, who is right, and who is wrong.

Madame X casts a powerful spell that consumes and enthralls as you are turned backward and upside down on a scintillating roller coaster ride that you never want to end. It is quite possible that more questions are raised in the end than answered, leaving you yearning for the follow-up, Exposed, and craving so much more.

*complimentary copy provided by publisher in exchange for an honest review

Rating: 5+ Stars


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