Dangerous Cravings
Evangeline Anderson
ebook, 448 pages
Published March 21, 2006 by Loose Id, LLC
ISBN 9781596323889
By day, Tampa homicide detective Alex Reed is fiercely intelligent and tougher than any of the men in her department. By night, she explores her darker side by writing highly erotic novels of bondage and submission under the pen name Victoria Tarlatan.
Detective Cole Berkley is Alex's longtime partner and best friend. He doesn't know anything about her secret hunger to be mastered, but he's about to find out. A serial killer is working his dark magic, transforming wicked women into works of erotic art. His hapless victims are found tied to the bed in classic bondage poses, strangled and tortured in unspeakable ways. To crack the case, Alex and Cole go undercover in the BDSM community, posing as Master and slave, Dominant and submissive.
Can Alex hold on to her secret while being forced to play out her most private fantasies with her partner? And can Cole handle the change in his tough-as-nails partner from one of the guys to a woman with deeply erotic needs? The friction between them will soon be the least of their worries. The killer has a list of intended victims. Victoria Tarlatan is on it, making Alex next in line for the killer's transformation. Will she pay for her Dangerous Cravings with her life?
Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations some readers may find objectionable: Strong BDSM theme and content, violence.
Earlier this week I was needing something sweet in my reading. But then... I'm the type of person that needs a bit of sadism with her sugar. And that's where Dangerous Cravings comes in...
Stay with me now.
Erotic romance writer, and one of the best might I add, Evangeline Anderson, has outdone herself with this thrilling read about a serial killer targeting authors whose books focus on BDSM.
Cole Berkley and Alex Reed haven't spent the last five years of their partnership pining for one another. They're friends-friends who trust one another explicitly and have a very close, very comfortable relationship. But their newest case is about to bring out Alex's long kept secret and give the attraction between the two a very forceful shove.
Couldn't help but be completely engrossed by the gradual process Anderson wrote for Cole coming around to noticing Alex. First her voice. Then, her legs. And so on and so forth. It's one of those things where you're on the edge of your seat, waiting for the passion to explode, and yet, the high you get from that bit by bit is just as an intoxicating. Tease me... no, don't tease me! Gawd, I was dying to know how the first kiss was going to go down. And HOT DAMN I was not disappointed. Daddy issues make for the *best* drama. And some rather hot moments of weakness.
Cole is a virgin to the very idea of BDSM. He has no clue what the hell is going on. Alex writes the stuff, craves it, but won't speak a damn word about it so Cole is forced to use the investigation to try to make some sense of it all. He can't bring himself to comprehend what makes his best friend need to be held down and have pain inflicted during sex. But he loves Alex. He wants her. And he wants to be the lover she needs him to be, even though the idea of hurting her makes him physically sick.
Get over it, Cole!
“What the hell,” I said, slowly and distinctly, “was that about?”
She turned to me and there was so much need, so much pain and confusion and shame in her eyes,that I felt my insides clench. God, she’d never even hinted at anything like this. Or maybe she had, and I just wasn’t paying attention ... Maybe I was ignoring her because I didn’t want to know.
“Cole ...” Her voice was soft and tentative. The look on her face said she expected me to hit her at any time. I wanted to shake her, this vulnerable stranger. Shake her and demand what she had done with my tough, no-nonsense, takes-no-crap-off-anyone, one-of-the-guys partner.
“Never mind,” I said, feeling the muscles in the side of my jaw bunch and tense. “Just get out.”
“No.” Her eyes cleared a little, my rough words seeming to bringing her back to her senses. “No, I’m not leaving like this. I need ... I need ...” Her mouth worked uncertainly.
“What?” I asked, my voice dangerously soft. “What do you think you need, Alex?”
“I need you to understand,” she burst out, desperately. “I need you to know that I’m not ... thatI don’t ...”
“Don’t what? Don’t get off on --”
“Don’t say it.” She slid across the seat and pressed her small hand over my lips. In the dim glow of the lamp her eyes were wide and drowning deep. I felt in danger of falling in and never getting outagain. I wanted her so badly I ached. But I didn’t want to lay her down and take my time -- didn’t want to bring her gently or take her softly. I wanted what she wanted. I wanted to be rough with her. I couldn’t let myself want that.
I pulled back from her, afraid that her touch, the press of her small, warm fingers against my lips, would set me off. “Get out,” I said again. I felt like a loaded gun with three pounds of pressure already on the trigger. “Get out, Alex.”
“No.” She was trembling but determined. “No, come in with me.”
“I can’t.” I heard a low grating sound and realized it was me, grinding my teeth. “I can’t -- I’ll hurt you.”
She looked up at me, eyes wide and serious. “I know.”
I could hear the steering wheel creak beneath my palms as I gripped it. I was holding it like a life preserver, knowing that if it left my hands, and my feet took me into her small dark house, I was lost. I can’t let that happen. I said it to myself over and over.
“Cole,” she said, stroking the side of my face. “Cole, please ...”
My control snapped and somehow my traitorous hands left the steering wheel and buried themselves in her silky hair, the same way they had the night before. I was again conscious of wanting to own her -- of wanting to possess her totally. Her mouth was as sweet as a bruised berry. I crushed her to me, wanting to own and if I couldn’t own, wanting to mark. To leave a sign on her skin that would let the world know I had been there.
She turned to me and there was so much need, so much pain and confusion and shame in her eyes,that I felt my insides clench. God, she’d never even hinted at anything like this. Or maybe she had, and I just wasn’t paying attention ... Maybe I was ignoring her because I didn’t want to know.
“Cole ...” Her voice was soft and tentative. The look on her face said she expected me to hit her at any time. I wanted to shake her, this vulnerable stranger. Shake her and demand what she had done with my tough, no-nonsense, takes-no-crap-off-anyone, one-of-the-guys partner.
“Never mind,” I said, feeling the muscles in the side of my jaw bunch and tense. “Just get out.”
“No.” Her eyes cleared a little, my rough words seeming to bringing her back to her senses. “No, I’m not leaving like this. I need ... I need ...” Her mouth worked uncertainly.
“What?” I asked, my voice dangerously soft. “What do you think you need, Alex?”
“I need you to understand,” she burst out, desperately. “I need you to know that I’m not ... thatI don’t ...”
“Don’t what? Don’t get off on --”
“Don’t say it.” She slid across the seat and pressed her small hand over my lips. In the dim glow of the lamp her eyes were wide and drowning deep. I felt in danger of falling in and never getting outagain. I wanted her so badly I ached. But I didn’t want to lay her down and take my time -- didn’t want to bring her gently or take her softly. I wanted what she wanted. I wanted to be rough with her. I couldn’t let myself want that.
I pulled back from her, afraid that her touch, the press of her small, warm fingers against my lips, would set me off. “Get out,” I said again. I felt like a loaded gun with three pounds of pressure already on the trigger. “Get out, Alex.”
“No.” She was trembling but determined. “No, come in with me.”
“I can’t.” I heard a low grating sound and realized it was me, grinding my teeth. “I can’t -- I’ll hurt you.”
She looked up at me, eyes wide and serious. “I know.”
I could hear the steering wheel creak beneath my palms as I gripped it. I was holding it like a life preserver, knowing that if it left my hands, and my feet took me into her small dark house, I was lost. I can’t let that happen. I said it to myself over and over.
“Cole,” she said, stroking the side of my face. “Cole, please ...”
My control snapped and somehow my traitorous hands left the steering wheel and buried themselves in her silky hair, the same way they had the night before. I was again conscious of wanting to own her -- of wanting to possess her totally. Her mouth was as sweet as a bruised berry. I crushed her to me, wanting to own and if I couldn’t own, wanting to mark. To leave a sign on her skin that would let the world know I had been there.
Eventually Cole finds a balance between his own fantasies and Alex's needs and the scenes are a beautiful balance of the two. Despite the drama of a bitch of an ex wife and having an eight-year-old daughter, I found Cole-as Redd would say-extremely lickable.
Readers who find themselves opposed to BDSM may want to veer around this one but I would actually encourage it's reading for the very same reason. It's very light in the bondage... a few lashings, a bit of restraining, very little sex, but overall it's a very psychological approach to the topic, which is so Anderson. She gets me to respond on a mind level no other author ever has. I question so much when I read her work. About myself. And about the world around me. 5 out of 5 stars.
Another great thing about this book? It has an itty-bitty sequel!
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