Doing it at: 55%
Catnip: Alpha Hero; MMA Fighter; Copious Licking; Strong Female Lead; DBB; Swooning; Sweatpants Boner
Shame Scale: I find the longer I read romance the less shame I feel, even when the covers are ab-mazing and the doing it is dirty and plentiful. Low shame.
Fantasy Cast: Stephen Amell, Ashley Greene
A fallen boxer.
A woman with a broken dream.
He even makes me forget my name. One night was all it took, and I forgot everything and anything except the sexy fighter in the ring who sets my mind ablaze and my body on fire with wanting…
Remington Tate is the strongest, most confusing man I’ve ever met in my life.
He’s the star of the dangerous underground fighting circuit, and I’m drawn to him as I’ve never been drawn to anything in my life. I forget who I am, what I want, with just one look from him. When he’s near, I need to remind myself that I am strong–but he is stronger. And now it’s my job to keep his body working like a perfect machine, his taut muscles primed and ready to break the bones of his next opponents…
But the one he’s most threatening to, now, is me.
I want him. I want him without fear. Without reservations.
If only I knew for sure what it is that he wants from me?
Cleone: Real is perhaps the ultimate Alpha book, we have a hero who will dig a guy’s tattoo off his face with a pencil, likes to mark his woman by licking her all over with his tongue, and has to be literally sedated when he loses his temper. Katy Evans somehow makes all of this seem extremely hot.
Mary: He’s the alpha-est book hero of all time. He’s more alpha than even all the half-animal heros who are literally the alpha leaders of their pack. And he’s the hottest. He’s so cut that his abs are described as “squares.” Fucking squares.
C: I’m on a Katy Evans kick after Mary urged me to read Manwhore and I fell madly in book boyfriend love with Saint. I was expecting the hero of REAL to be kind of Saint-esque even if he was an MMA fighter and not a billionaire playboy. Generally books by the same author have similar heroes and heroines, which is fine, and comforting in ways. If you know you want a funny boy, then you know which author to go to. This was not the case with Manwhore and Real, the stories felt completely different, character voices and all. Minus the heroines’ love of small brown man nipples – an Evans specific thing that I am picking up on. I notice it probably because it makes me laugh. Minus this guy who had the tiniest nipples that ever nipped I have never found a guy’s nipples to be anything to remark upon. But I digress, Real is a very different book from Manwhore.