Published by Nicole Edwards Limited on January 12th, 2016
Genres: Alpha Male, Contemporary Romance
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I received this book for free from in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.
What happens when you donÔÇÖt know what comes next?
Jacob Wild has had a lucrative writing career, but somewhere along the way he misplaced his muse. Now, unable to put anything on paper, heÔÇÖs resorted to hanging out in the neighborhood coffee shop with a pen and paper, trying to find something to spark his creativity again.
ThatÔÇÖs when he meets her.
The coral-haired, tattooed beauty with the piercing gray eyes and sweet smile draws his attention in a way no woman before her ever has. Jake soon learns that when heÔÇÖs around her his world is set to rights once more. Presley sparks something inside him and not just his ability to put words on paper.
But, PresleyÔÇÖs not the easiest woman to get close to and Jake finds himself trying to answer the burning question:
Does happily ever after only exist in fiction?
An exciting and unique new standalone from no other than the Queen of M├®nage, Nicole Edwards, is out! I absolutely adored it. ItÔÇÖs heartwarming, sexy, hilarious, and above all, different from any other book IÔÇÖve read recently. I have to say, I picked this one up blind, solely based on the fact that Nicole Edwards wrote it, and I do not regret it, at all.
Inked on Paper, a multi-layered story line with complex characters that will suck you in from page one, is the story of Jacob WildÔÇöcurrently the hottest romance author in the publishing worldÔÇöand Presley AbramsÔÇötattoo artist extraordinaireÔÇöand how they find inspiration with each other.
Jacob is a highly success author of over a dozen romance novels, but heÔÇÖs stuck. Since coming back to Texas from New York when his family needed him the most, he hasnÔÇÖt written a sentence, much less the novel with the looming deadline. He is experiencing writerÔÇÖs block. Jacob is your typical book boyfriendÔÇöhot, model-gorgeous, smart, dirty-mouthed, and sweet. HeÔÇÖs also the man-whore, never-settling-down-type until he meets PresleyÔÇöhis spirited little neighbor. The only one whoÔÇÖs presence seems to inspire him.
Presley, on the other hand, is not your typical heroine. Yes, sheÔÇÖs smart, feisty, vulnerable, but sheÔÇÖs also covered in tattoos and piercings with pink-ish (Jacob called it coral) hair. The perfect combination of tough rebel and sweetheart. Sadly, she has been hurt in the past, badly, by a cheating boyfriend. This has caused her inspiration to leave her. As a tattoo artist, who makes a living drawing things, having lost her mojo is devastating. Also, her past has taught her to close herself offÔÇöbecome emotionally unavailable.
The minute Jacob and Presley meet, sparks fly, panties melt, and hearts soar. While the angst in this one might be low (this can be nice every now and then), the story didnÔÇÖt lose any of its intrigue. While there is some back and forth between Jacob and Presley, the reasons behind this are understandable as well as relatable. Both of them have to learn how to fight for what they want and not run from fear. Further, the secondary characters in this book were amazingÔÇöthe perfect blend between sexy, funny, serious, and sweet.
Also, as a little bonus, we get to see Jacob write his book during this story. ItÔÇÖs a book in a book! It was fascination to get some insight into the head of an author and see what JacobÔÇÖs writing process was. I think this is the one aspect, besides the complex characters, that I enjoyed the most. Throughout the story, we get to read snippets of another story. A story that only enhances Jacob and PresleyÔÇÖs own romance and kept me on my toes.
Inked on Paper is a stellar standalone and I greatly enjoyed it. ItÔÇÖs unique, and vastly different from NicoleÔÇÖs usual books without losing its hot factor. Though, I would definitely love to read some more on this group of friendsÔÇöbecause Gil and Gavin. ThatÔÇÖs all IÔÇÖm going to say to that. I cannot recommend this one enough!
~Review by Anja
One week later, Saturday night
By the time seven oÔÇÖclock rolled around, I was going stir crazy. My total word count for the entire week was a big fat fucking zero. And like IÔÇÖd assured Liz when I talked to her on Wednesday, I had tried. Really.
After IÔÇÖd spent two hours at the coffee shop that morning and managed to research everything from tattoos to tater totsÔÇöon my phone, because, fuck, what the hell else was I going to do?ÔÇöIÔÇÖd come back to my condo, changed, gone to the gym, watched the midday news, showered, and fought the urge to clean more shit around the house that had no business being cleaned. Not by me, at least.
Same shit IÔÇÖd done almost every day this week. And last week, now that I thought about it.
Now that the sun was down and the night was coming to life, I needed to get out of the building. To do something productive that didnÔÇÖt involve staring at a blank screen or a blank page and wondering whether or not I would ever be able to write anything again.
So, that was the plan.
A night out.
I had moved to downtown Austin for the scenery. IÔÇÖd lived in the area most of my lifeÔÇö with the exception of the five years IÔÇÖd spent in New YorkÔÇöhaving grown up twenty-something miles north in the city of Round Rock. The suburban life had worked well for my mom and stepdads (all nine of them)ÔÇöstill didÔÇöbut I needed something a little more ÔÇª lively. My sister, Paige, thought I was having a midlife crisis. At thirty-six, I seriously doubted that. I was reserving that for when I turned forty.
As I was riding the elevator down to the lobby, my cell phone rang. After digging it out of my pocket, I glanced at the screen and sighed.
Great. It was eight oÔÇÖclock in New YorkÔÇöon a Saturday, no lessÔÇöwhere she lived and worked, so I knew this wasnÔÇÖt going to be a hi, how are you? conversation. I answered anyway.
ÔÇ£Jacob Wild, where the hell are you?ÔÇØ Her raspy, take-no-shit tone made me smile.
ÔÇ£Elevator, why?ÔÇØ I asked, pretending I didnÔÇÖt know what she meant.
ÔÇ£Where have you been?ÔÇØ
ÔÇ£Before I got in the elevator? Well, if you have to know, I was walking down the hall.ÔÇØ
My editor growled. Actually growled. And it wasnÔÇÖt one of those sexy purring things that some women did.
This was an all-out Gremlin sort of sound that made me want to laugh. I refrained. Barely.
ÔÇ£You should be at your desk.ÔÇØ
ÔÇ£Why?ÔÇØ I stepped off the elevator into the lobby. ÔÇ£Nothing going on there at the moment.ÔÇØ
My comment was met with silence, and I could picture Liz standing in the middle of her Manhattan apartment, hand fisted in her short blonde hair as she stared at the phone in disbelief.
Truth was, I liked Liz. She was one of the top editors in the publishing industry, and she always played me straight. After I had self-published my first book and it had done surprisingly well, and after my agent had landed me my first seven-figure, three-book deal, I had been working with Liz directly. IÔÇÖd liked her so much, and my books had done so well with her help that IÔÇÖd even signed another contract, for another three booksÔÇöwith, get this, an eight-figure advance.
Which, I knew, was the reason she was calling.
That was a lot of money to invest in someone, and the first book was due to her in roughly thirty days, and sheÔÇÖd come to expect me to be ahead of the game, as IÔÇÖd frequently turned in my first draft manuscript way early. It probably hadnÔÇÖt helped that IÔÇÖd asked for an extension this go-roundÔÇöa three-month extension.
ÔÇ£WhereÔÇÖs my book?ÔÇØ she demanded. ÔÇ£I was looking forward to spending the weekend reading your stuff, enjoying a bottle of wine, and now I have no choice but to go to that stupid gala.ÔÇØ
I barked a laugh. I couldnÔÇÖt remember what it was she was doing, but I recalled her mentioning it had something to do with her husbandÔÇÖs public relations firm. From what Liz told me, she did not enjoy getting dressed up and going out. But IÔÇÖd known her long enough that I recognized the lie for what it was. She did enjoy it; she simply didnÔÇÖt want anyone to know she did.
ÔÇ£IÔÇÖve still got a month,ÔÇØ I told her as I stepped out of the building, the cold wind slamming into me.
There was a brief pause before she said, ÔÇ£Tell me when I can schedule an interview. Your fans want to know what the hell happened to you.ÔÇØ
ÔÇ£You know I donÔÇÖt do interviews,ÔÇØ I told her. That had been a point of contention between us from the beginning. IÔÇÖd been called reclusive and mysterious, but the truth was, I didnÔÇÖt like being in the public eye. I just wanted to write.
ÔÇ£YouÔÇÖre going to have to give in sometime,ÔÇØ she said. ÔÇ£Seriously. The media fucking loves you. They want to see your face.ÔÇØ
ÔÇ£Liz, shouldnÔÇÖt you be getting ready for your thing?ÔÇØ I asked, purposely changing the subject.
Liz huffed. ÔÇ£WhatÔÇÖs the book about? At least tell me that much.ÔÇØ
I shouldÔÇÖve known she wouldnÔÇÖt let it go. I sighed. ÔÇ£I will, just as soon as I know.ÔÇØ
More silence before she said, ÔÇ£Jacob.ÔÇØ Her tone was admonishing and I understood her pain.
ÔÇ£IÔÇÖm looking for my muse,ÔÇØ I assured her.
ÔÇ£Your muse? What the hell are you talking about? We agreedÔÇöÔÇØ
Before she could go off on a tangentÔÇösomething Liz was really good atÔÇöI interrupted her. ÔÇ£DonÔÇÖt worry. I havenÔÇÖt let you down yet, have I?ÔÇØ
Another growl. This time I did laugh.
ÔÇ£Fine. But next time I call you, you better answer the damn phone.ÔÇØ
ÔÇ£I did answer the phone.ÔÇØ Just not the first twenty-two times sheÔÇÖd called since yesterday morning. ÔÇ£Talk to you later, Liz.ÔÇØ