Who knew things could get even darker and dirtier in New Orleans? New York Times bestselling author Meghan March introduces the Savage Prince of the city, the man you never want to meet.
I do what I want and who I want. I don’t follow anyone’s rules—even my own.
I knew I shouldn’t touch her, but it didn’t stop me.
Didn’t stop me the second time either. Only made me want a third.
My lifestyle suits the savage I am, and she doesn’t.
But Temperance Ransom is my newest addiction, and I’m nowhere near ready to quit her yet.
I’ll have her my way, even if it means dragging her into the darkness.
Hopefully it doesn’t kill us both.
Savage Prince is book one of the Savage Trilogy, set in the same world as Ruthless King, however you do not need to read the Mount Trilogy to devour this scandalously hot new story.
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I swear, every time Meghan March releases a new book, I hear, "this is her best book yet," "Meghan March has outdone herself," and "She just gets better with each book." And I think to myself, "how can that possibly be when I loved each of her previous books so much and couldn't rave about her last book enough?" Then I would read said book and couldn't help but agree. So, of course, when I heard all the hype for Savage Prince, I was, at first, a doubter, but I knew deep down that even if this wasn't her "best book yet," I would still absolutely love it because there has not been a single Meghan March book yet that I have not thoroughly enjoyed and loved every moment of. After the Mount trilogy, after the Real Duet, and after my personal favorite, the Beneath series, I wasn't even sure that this one could possibly be her best book yet, but I was definitely prepared for a wild ride. And then I read it. While I still refuse to say that Savage Prince is her best book yet, simply because of my adoration of the Beneath series, I will say it could very easily be tied for first place.
As hard as it may be to believe, this may just be Meghan March's best book yet and what makes that so true? How do I love thee oh, dearest author? Let me count the ways. Savage Prince is original. I can't say I've ever read a book like this one before. There may be certain themes that you've seen before, but when you get to the end of the book and realize that you still don't even know the name of the hero, it's a very good chance that you've never read, or even heard of, anything like that before. Savage Prince is sinfully, deliciously, decadently sexy. The unparalleled chemistry between the characters already makes for a steamy connection, but the circumstances behind each meeting and their subsequent exploits, is seriously hot. Don't forget a heroine's story that draws you in and refuses to let go. A reformed bad girl with a rough upbringing who has clawed her way out of what was sure to be a dismal future only to have every man in her life constitute a distinct possibility of dragging her right back down. How can you not get caught up on a story like this?
Oh, and shall we get into the cliffhanger now? Spoiler alert, this book ends in the mother of all cliffys, which is in no way, shape, or form a bad thing in this case. Even if you despise cliffhangers, I'm urging you to give this book a read. You are virtually guaranteed to love the way that this one ends. What's more, it's not even the rush of said cliffhanger that will keep you on the hook, it's that connection, that intensity, the chemistry, the circumstance, and the mystery that will have you waiting with bated breath for more.
Best book yet? It's hard to say and we still have two more books to come in this series. What I can say for sure though, is, Savage Prince is pretty incredible. It's alluring, it's thrilling, it's engrossing, it's sexy, it's addicting, it's a must read. If you love a mysterious man, a completely original story, and even a bit of kink, this is your next read!
*complimentary copy provided by author for an honest review
Rating: 5 Stars
Meghan March is the author of contemporary and erotic romance novels.
Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She’s also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she’s ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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“That you, Temperance?”
My gaze searches the darkness, interrupted only by the Chinese lanterns and fairy lights hanging from the trees, until it lands on the red dragon emblazoned on the back of a black silk kimono, topped by a fluffy white head of hair.
Shit. My landlady.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you, Harriet. I’ll just—”
She spins around, spry for her advanced age. “Oh, girl, you’ve got sex hair. At least that makes one of us.”
I squeeze my eyes shut in humiliation. “I . . . uh . . . got—”
“Done up right by a real man, I’d say. About damn time, girl. I was starting to think you were a lost cause of all work and no play. Almost wondered if I’d have to find a new tenant to get some entertainment around here.”
I blink twice as she shuffles toward me, fluffy pink marabou slippers on her feet. “You were going to kick me out because I work too much?”
I knew my landlady was a little nutty, but I didn’t realize she was downright crazy.
“It would’ve been a last resort. I was going to send you a male stripper first. Girl, you need some fun in your life, and you do nothing but go between here and work. Boring as hell.”
Her point is finally sinking in, but part of me is still in shock. “I’m boring?”
“Of course you are. I swear, you go out of your way to stay that way too. But not tonight. Tonight, you look like you got dicked down by a real man.” She takes a seat at the outdoor patio table and reaches for a bottle of wine. “Here’s a glass. Now, sit down and consider part of your rent spilling the juicy details.”
Dumbstruck, I close the distance between us and take a seat at the table. “It’s nothing. I swear.”
“Girl, you’re practically walking bowlegged. I’ve been around the block plenty of times. You won’t shock me.”
I reach for the glass of wine and take a long drink. Good Lord, I needed this.
“I shouldn’t even be admitting what I did tonight.”
Harriet’s aged eyes practically light up as she grins. “Those are the best stories. Come now, I’ll take it to the grave.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I think I accidentally went to a sex club.”
Harriet’s wineglass clinks the metal of the table. “I knew this was going to be good. How do you accidentally go to a sex club?”
I tell her about the note that came to the office, and rushing to meet the appointment, assuming I was there to sell whiskey . . . and end with the part about running from the room.
Harriet claps with childlike excitement. “There’s hope for you yet, Temperance. When are you going back?”
I’m stunned at her reaction. I didn’t exactly expect her to judge, but I sure didn’t think she’d cheer me on.
“Never. I can’t. That’s not me. I’m not . . .”
“Interesting? Sexually adventurous? Up to be manhandled regularly by a real man?”
“I don’t even know his name!”
Harriet waves off my concern. “If I had a nickel for every man whose name I didn’t know, I’d be even richer than I am now. You can’t take life so seriously. You’ll never make it out alive. Now, you go upstairs, take the rest of this bottle of wine, and get tipsy enough to forget all the shouldn’ts and can’ts. If you need me to do some stalking to find this guy, just let me know. I have connections.”