Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  Amazon CA  |  Amazon AU

 

---

---

Synopsis

“MOVING ON” IS JUST ABOUT ACTING THE PART.

I would never say as much to the people I love, but it’s the truth.
They want to see me doing better.
They want to see me living for more than just my son.

So I let them.
Everyday is about putting on a face,
pretending to get over the loss of my husband.
And every day is a lie.

UNTIL MOVING ON IS A TEMPTATION THAT CAN’T BE DENIED.

I’m not about to claim I’m a genius,
unless we’re talking with a tattoo gun or woman in my hands,
but I’m smart enough to know the beauty serving up my cupcake fix is off limits.

Really, I know.
Too bad the lure of putting a real smile on Kate’s face is so strong.
When she visits Sailor’s Grave Tattoo Parlor,
I can’t help but want to leave my mark.

 

Add to Goodreads

 

---

Review

I really enjoyed this book.  A beautifully written story of love after loss, a young mother and widow struggling to move on, and the sexy tattoo artist who brings her back to life.  It’s sweet and sexy with lots of gorgeously swoony moments, and a whole lot of feels, and I loved it.

This book is the first in the Sailor’s Grave series, which is a spin off from the Savage Disciples series.  A lot of the characters in this book have already been introduced, but this book can easily standalone.  This is my first book by this author, and I certainly never felt lost or like I was missing huge chunks of information.  She does a good job at providing appropriate backstory, and I’m actually now really intrigued to read more about these characters and how they all came together.

Kate’s world came crashing down around her when she lost her husband in a tragic accident, leaving her alone to raise their then-three-year-old son, Owen.  For three years she has battled to keep on going.  She puts on a brave face to the outside world, fake smiling and doing what she needs to in order to get by, and to raise her son, but on the inside she feels like she died along with her husband, and she has no idea how to pull herself out of her grief and depression.  She has support from her late husband’s younger brother, and the MC that he is a part of have adopted her into their family, so she’s not alone, but she’s definitely not living.

Sailor’s Grave is a tattoo studio owned by the Savage Disciples MC.  Liam is one of the artists working there, and though he isn’t a member of the MC, he is included in their extended family, so he knows Kate, he knows her story, and though he is attracted to her, he knows he has to keep his distance.  But his frequent trips to the bakery where Kate works remain the highlight of his day, and when she comes in to the studio looking for a significant, multi-session piece, she is put into Liam’s hands – literally.

Kate is attracted to Liam, but she has no idea what to do with it.  She still misses her husband, and is in no way ready to move forward, but there’s something about the gentle man that draws her in.  And when he proves over and over what a great guy he is, helping her and her son, and working hard to put a smile on her face, their feelings are strengthened and a tentative friendship develops… with the door open for more.

“I know I can’t do anything to reassure you that this is okay, but I’m going to be honest with you.  I want you.  I have for a while, and spending time around you only makes that stronger.  I fucking loved what just happened.  But if you aren’t ready, I’m not going to push.  Whate4ver you decide, I’ll honor that. I can still be here to talk to.  We can go on like that didn’t just happen.  I won’t forget it, because I’d never want to, but it doesn’t have to change anything.”

It’s a difficult road for Liam and Kate.  They want each other, their feelings about that are clear, and they certainly act on it.  But Kate’s grief is very much the third and unwelcome member of the relationship that they are trying to build together.  Liam is absolutely incredible – supportive, understanding and patient, doing whatever he can to help his girl (and his time with little Owen is just gorgeous) – but it’s very much something that she needs to deal with, and her doing just that is an important part of her journey as she has to learn how to say goodbye and claim the future that she wants.

“I want this.  I want to start living again, and I want you there with me.”

This book is well-paced, heartfelt and written with lots of emotion.  It’s a wonderfully realistic story about the all-consuming nature of grief and the battle to overcome it, but it’s written with understanding and a feeling of hope.  There’s a heavy emphasis on the emotional drama, but the story never gets angsty or overwhelming with it.  There are sweet and funny moments, cute times with little Owen, fun flirting from Liam and of course there’s a whole lot of sexy time as well as a beautifully swoony love story.  I enjoyed the cast of side characters, the relationships with the MC were gorgeous to read about, and I loved Liam’s family and the dynamics there.

I enjoyed my first read by this author, and I’m definitely looking forward to checking out more of her work.

4 stars.

An Advanced Review Copy was generously provided by the author in exchange for an honest review.

 

Sailor’s Grave

 

---

Excerpt

Liam

Christ, I really needed to stop doing this to myself.

Not give up the desserts, because fuck that, but stop torturing
myself with the gorgeous woman that served them.

I knew the deal. She was a single mom, widowed a couple years
back. She was under the protection of the club because Daz was her late
husband’s brother. I also knew that despite conversations I’d overheard about
her doing better, about her starting to move on, that she was nowhere near that
place.

Maybe it was because I’d been old enough to understand
everything as it happened when we’d lost Dad and after. I recognized what the
people in her life couldn’t: that she wasn’t moving past a goddamn
thing.

It was achingly familiar, seeing that fake smile. It was even more
so to see the one she gave her son, knowing that if I were seeing it closer, there
would be that lingering sadness behind her eyes that I saw in my mom’s for too
long.

And that whole thought process made it sound like I had some
fucked Oedipus complex.

Desserts, asshole.

There was a cinnamon braid left. That never happened. Sugar’s
Dream was more of a dessert place than full-service bakery. The few things

Avery made that worked for breakfast were usually snatched up before I ever got
there in the afternoons. The cinnamon braid specifically was a favorite at Sailor’s
Grave—it was the reason we had an actual kitchen knife in the back after we’d all
fallen on one and had to rip off pieces by hand.

“Gotta take that back to the shop,” I told her, pointing to
it.

Unable to hide the fact that she was relieved to have a task that
involved moving farther away from me to prep a box for it, she jumped right to it. I
wasn’t enough of a gentleman to not glance up from considering what else to get
in order to take a look while she had her back to me. Kate looked fucking
incredible coming and going. I liked a woman with curves, and she was far from
lacking in that department. She had light brown hair that danced around her
shoulders when she wore it down, porcelain skin that looked like silk, and amber
eyes that usually looked brown, but stood out when there was enough light to
see them properly.

She was easily the most delicious thing in this goddamn
bakery.

She was also the only thing in the place I was sure I wasn’t
getting a taste of.

A minute later, she came back with the tied up box, setting it on
the counter by the register.

“Anything else?” She tried to avoid my eyes but ended up looking
right at my mouth. My cock took notice, fixing to fight for attention.

I was so fucking tempted to answer with something like “a taste
test” just to get a rise out of her, but I bit my tongue.

“Two of the lemon cupcakes, one raspberry chocolate, and” —I
peeked around her— “are those the mocha ones you’re working
on?”

She glanced over her shoulder like she wasn’t sure what she’d
been doing when I walked in. “Um…yes.”

“Can I get one of those?”

“Of course.”

Again, it was full hustle to get away from me. I got it. If I were a
better man, I might stop coming in. Of course, I’d probably lose it if I tried going

cold turkey from my preferred sugar fix, but I could at least talk someone else
into coming for me. Jess would probably do it if I bankrolled her own cupcake
habit.

Turns out, I wasn’t that good of a person. I wouldn’t push her, but
I couldn’t deny myself at least getting to see her beyond just the Disciples’
parties. These little visits were like a fucking drug.

“How’s your boy?” I asked, grasping at anything to get her to talk
to me.

“He’s good. He’s telling everyone at his daycare that he’s going to
be a biker when he grows up.” It was impossible to miss the love and pride in her
voice.

“Probably not a stretch. I wouldn’t be surprised if the brothers had
him on his own bike the minute he’s old enough.”

“His dad had a bike, too. Owen’s been around them since he was
born.”

I watched as what she’d said registered. I saw her freeze, every
inch of her tightening up. She was still facing away, keeping her expression
hidden, but I didn’t doubt it was a mix of shock and devastation. I hadn’t known
what a minefield the topic was, though I couldn’t be sure I’d have avoided it if it
was. Mom told me time and again as she got better that talking about Dad
helped, even as much as it hurt.

“I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t help at all. I know it still hurts and
all the sympathy in the world doesn’t touch that, but it’s true.”

For a long moment, she didn’t move. I didn’t even see her
breathing from my vantage point. Then, she turned around with the box of
cupcakes in her hands. She didn’t adopt that benign smile she always had at
work, but that didn’t mean she was giving me any glimpse of the real
grief.

No, Kate’s face was fucking blank.

Shit.

It wasn’t my fucking place to try to “help,” especially not while she
was at work. Suddenly, if I could take the words back, if I could undo even the
reminder of her husband, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

Before I could dig my foot out of my mouth and figure something

out to say, she went over to the register and started ringing up my order. “That’ll
be $17.56.”

Even her voice was flat, lifeless.

Rather than push and make a bigger ass of myself, I pulled out
my card and paid without a word. I kept my mouth shut as she wordlessly
handed it back with my receipt, and then slid the boxes toward me.

Only when I had them in hand did she say, again in that dead
voice, “Have a nice day.”

I’d fucked up. Royally.

 

 

Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Instagram  |  Goodreads