December 14th, 2017
Home | Log in! or Register

On Top Shelf
WICKED BITEWICKED BITE
Fresh Fiction
Fresh Pick
Todays_Pick
DREAMING OF A WHITE WOLF CHRISTMAS

Holiday Giveaways

Reviewer Application

Readers & 'ritas


December brings fabulous reads!

Slideshow image


Since your web browser does not support JavaScript, here is a non-JavaScript version of the image slideshow:

slideshow image
Ex-NFL star + snarky single mom = a touchdown of a holiday romance


slideshow image
The vampires are coming... and this time, the lights won't stop them.


slideshow image
The owner of a delightful Southern café tastes the sharp sting of suspicion in this delectable comfort food mystery...


slideshow image
This holiday season, love is on the menu.


slideshow image
A Spartan heart can conquer anything, even myths, magic, and monsters.


slideshow image
There’s nothing like a firefighting cowboy to keep you toasty warm this Christmas...


Last Dance

Last Dance, February 2017
Missed Connections #1
by Jeffe Kennedy

Author Self-Published
ISBN: B06XB7LFC5
Kindle: B06XB7LFC5
e-Book
Add to Wish List


Purchase



"Quick bite of delicious eroticism"

Fresh Fiction Review

Last Dance
Jeffe Kennedy

Reviewed by Make Kay
Posted May 15, 2017

Romance Erotica Sensual

LAST DANCE is the first book in a new series, Missed Connections, by Jeffe Kennedy. It is a contemporary romance, and the series features a group of five young women sharing a house in Chicago as they begin their careers. I know and love Kennedy best for her paranormal and fantasy books. She also writes contemporary erotica, and LAST DANCE is firmly in that category. This is a quick and steamy read.

Charlotte Emory and her four best friends call themselves the Fabulous Five. Charley and her girlfriends have been living by a list of Dating Rules. A potential romantic interest must meet the progressing (not progressive!) criteria of the rules before he can advance to the next "round" of interaction with one of the Five in a their dating game of elimination. I'm not a fan of Sex in the City or things of that ilk, so I struggle to connect with these shallow young women and their frivolous rules. I do like the Girl Power vibe that underlies their friendships, though, and heartily endorse their sisterhood.

Charley has a brief encounter with a mystery man and a club. Mr. Mystery invites her for a slow dance and they share a single melting kiss on the dance floor. She is separated from him when the club shuts down for the night, however, and he disappears. Charley is reduced to trying to track him down using a Missed Connections ad. Egged on by her friends and their rules, she manages to connect with Mr. Mystery and yet keep him at arm's length.

There's a fun underlying puzzle to Mr. Mystery that is teased out just so, and provides a lovely fillip to the story. As usual for Kennedy's writing, the erotica portions are well done but not overpowering. I appreciate authors who provide solid underpinnings of a real storyline to support the sex scenes. Mr. Mystery slowly teases Charley into following him along the path toward a true relationship, and because I like him, I cheer for their HEA. Kennedy's LAST DANCE is a quick bite of delicious eroticism.

Learn more about Last Dance

SUMMARY

It was five minutes. His hand on the small of her back. His eyes watching like there was no one else in the crowded club. His body a breath away from hers. A kiss full of heat and need and promise.

But then the stranger disappears. And Charlotte Emory can’t forget him. Worse, according to the dating Rules she and her four best friends swear by, all she can do is post an ad online. No names, no numbers. Just a missed connection – and the hope he’ll meet her, and see where another dance leads.

Except Mr. Mystery has his game, too, and he isn’t playing for only one night. He tempts Charley into a daring exploration of power, lust, and suspense, where even the most innocent requests sound indecent…and the indecent ones make her burn all night.

If she plays by the Rules, they’ll never get past teasing each other. But rules were made to be broken…

Excerpt

The problem with martinis is, although they look and taste fabulous—plus low carb, if done right—the steep slope of the glass makes them easy to spill. Disaster in the making.

Particularly on the second round.

Being a cautious sort, if only in this arena, I sipped at mine before taking another step and used the opportunity to survey the club’s offering of masculine company. And to let them get a good look at me. Take the spotlight when you can because there’s always someone meaner ready to upstage you. The bright bounce of lights glanced off a good set of shoulders here—and ooh, a very nice ass in black jeans there. A table of guys gave me a long look as I passed and I pretended not to notice, though the dark- haired one could be a possible.

“Any likelies?” Amy asked, taking the fresh drink from me as I got to our table, blowing me a kiss of thanks. She wore a lacy black sheath she’d designed in her spare time and made from remnants at her job—and she made it look like couture, the talented bitch.

I set down my own glass. “Nobody stands out as fabulous. But the table over your right shoulder might have potential.”

“The night is young,” Ice observed, scanning the dance floor below with dark eyes. She’d refused another round, as had Julie. Both of them still nursed their first drink, though Ice—Anaisa, though only her professors called her that—was theoretically not supposed to drink alcohol. She made a regular practice of doing all the things her family disapproved of, which was fairly easy since most of them lived elsewhere, some of them in India. Marcia didn’t drink at all and she clutched her seltzer, clearly wishing to be at home. It was a rare Friday night that I didn’t have a show, Julie wasn’t slaving in her restaurant, and everyone else was free, too, so we’d talked Marcia into coming out with us instead of staying behind in our empty house. But no one could force her to have fun.

Believe me, I’d tried. My own personal sacred mission. Saint Charley, that’s me.

“I gave the bartender Marcia’s number though,” I added, because I couldn’t resist. The girl needed poking. “He said he wanted a virgin sacrifice for some shamanistic ritual.”

“Oh, ha ha.” Marcia at least transferred her black look from the seltzer to me. “There’s nothing wrong with saving myself.”

“Saving is economical.” Amy nodded, making a serious face.

“A virtue, even.” Julie licked off the end of the plastic gecko tail the Lizard Club used for drink stirrers. “Unless you count hoarding. Then it turns ugly.”

“Oh my god. That show is riveting.” Ice shuddered. “I’m horrified but I can’t look away. Even in reruns.”

“It’s a disease.” I deflected Marcia’s glower of warning with my best Julia Roberts angelic smile. It’s a good one. I’ve practiced it. “You can’t judge people like that —just give them your compassion and try to help. Or refer them to social services.”

“Charlotte Emory, I’m going to crawl across this table and strangle you if you don’t shut up,” Marcia growled.

I batted my lashes at her. “What? I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, you’re not. I’ll find the right guy sooner or later.”

“Sooner is more likely with you pried out of the house,” Ice noted.

“And later than anyone we know,” Amy toasted her with a martini already half gone.

“Than the rest of the known universe.” Julie poked Marcia with the gecko tail, which at least diverted Marcia’s attention onto her.

“I hate all of you.” Marcia folded her arms. “Why don’t you go dance already?”

“Hello, ladies.” Ooh, right on cue, Mr. Dark Hair had come through. His gaze fell on me and I returned his very charming smile. “Wanna dance?” he asked me.

Yes. Yes, I did.


What do you think about this review?

Comments

No comments posted.

Registered users may leave comments.
Log in or register now!

 

 

 

 

Fresh Fiction contests

© 2003-2017 off-the-edge.net
all rights reserved

Google+ Google+