Tuesday, March 17, 2015

{Review}{Giveaway} Getting Dirty by Mia Storm

A poem by Blaire Leon

If sex is dirty, why would I do it with someone I love?
If sex is dirty, then didn’t we all come from the dirt?
What if I like the dirt?
What if I want to get dirty?
What if I want to roll in the mud until I’m so fucking filthy that I’ll never be clean again?

When twenty-five-year-old graduate assistant Caiden Brenner asked Blaire Leon how old she was, she said she was a senior. He chose to believe she meant in college. They connect over Lord Byron’s Don Juan and, as their conversations become increasingly thicker with sexual innuendo, Caiden finds himself obsessing over a totally off-limits undergrad who’s bold, beautiful, brilliant, and one of the most passionate poets he’s ever met.

But it turns out Blaire hasn't been totally honest. She's the seventeen-year-old valedictorian of her high school class, taking courses at Sierra State while awaiting her acceptance to Stanford.

Will Caiden get too deeply into Blaire to back away before he finds out the truth? Or will their connection be enough to seduce him into risking his entire future on Jail Bait?

This was me throughout the entire story...

Heart beating erratically...

Wanting to pull my clothes off...

Fanning my face to cool my raging libido...

The smut in this book was perfection. One handed reading was the star of the show but the storyline was also interesting. Getting both sides of the taboo nature of this story and how lives can be ruined by what happens was thrilling. 
Even the smartest of girls are said to fall prey to a man who is much older. He is considered the predator, the villain. Even though the girl was just as predatory, if not more than he was. But because he is older, he should know better. 

Being inside both characters was intriguing. I'm glad it wasn't just one-sided because it was easier to see where the other person was at when both point of views were established. But with that being said, I didn't get how easily they fell for one another because they spent more time pushing each other away than really talking. Their sexual chemistry was definitely well established but I would have liked more moments, more stolen glances, more conversation... More of them establishing their emotional connection rather than their sexual one. 

The story seemed rushed but also dragged in some places, it was a little disjointed in some places but it was still addicting and sexy. I read it in about a day because I wanted to see what was going to happen. 

The author made the heroine book smart and opinionated, which endeared me to her and I liked how she challenged everything, rather than becoming a whiny girl when things started to go south.  She stood her ground and even though the law was against them, she didn't go down without at least fighting in her own way. 

It made me think about society and the rules for being underage and dating someone older. It brought back memories of when I was in high school and I was dating someone four years older than me. My parents flipped out and I had to stop seeing him because of our age difference. I didn't see the reasoning because my parents were four years apart, I was mature for my age and the guy wasn't taking advantage of me because if I said no, he respected my wishes. It drove me nuts and made me want to do it anyway but I didn't want to ruin his future. To this day, we are still friends and hang out every once in a while. And it is ironic that my husband is actually older than the guy I used to date but my parents had no problem with my husband because I was 18 when I started dating him... (three years apparently made a difference in maturity...)

It is a delicate balance between how old people should be when they date and a one size fits all that may not be what is best in every situation. Especially in the states that you do not need to press charges in order to get in trouble for being with someone underage. 

On the flip side, I don't want to see some predator trying to date a child when that person is a grown ass adult. Like I said, it is a delicate balance of what is considered "wrong" or immoral. 

See, makes you think, right?...

Overall, I give this controversial book a 4 "sizzling, makes you think" Stars!!!

“What year are you?” I don’t even realize I’ve said it until it’s out of my mouth.
Her eyes flick from the book to mine. “A senior.”
I feel my eyebrows arch before I can stop them. “You look younger.”
She bites her lips between her teeth for a moment. “Is that good or bad?”
“Neither, I suppose.” But my insides burn, knowing that she’s not as off-limits as I originally thought. It’s nearing the end of January. Commencement will be here soon enough. She graduates and all bets are off.
“So…” she says, twisting a finger into the ends of her hair. “I know you like old, dead poets. How do you feel about hearing something fresher?”
I lean toward her. “Such as?”
“I’m reading in a poetry slam tonight. It’s just something over at Tino’s in Jonestown on the fourth Friday of every month. There’s no prize money or anything, but I perform something new pretty much every month.”
“A poetry slam…” I want to say yes in the worst way, but it feels dangerously like a date.
She must read the hesitation in my eyes. “If it’s too weird, no worries. I just thought, since you like poetry…”
She leaves the thought dangling. Like a noose. And I jump right into it. “Yeah. Why not?”
The answer to that rhetorical question is that it’s not May yet and she hasn’t graduated. I’m risking everything I’ve worked the last three years toward. My entire future. But the voice of reason is being drowned out by the raging waves of something rolling up from the deepest layers of my being like an undertow. Something base and essential. And unrelenting.
“Do you want to meet me there?” she asks, standing from her seat and giving me a better view of the entire exquisite length of her.
“Yeah…that’s probably best.” Plausible deniability. No, Dr. Duncan, I didn’t have any clue she’d be there. Just went to hear the poetry.
“Great,” she says as she gathers her book and shoves it in her bag. “It starts at nine. There are usually five or six poets and it’s a random draw, so I don’t know what time I’ll be reading.”
I nod without standing, no longer able to tame my erection. “I’ll be there at nine.”
“You know where Tino’s is?”
Electricity crackles under my skin. I’m really doing this. “Yeah. I’ll find it.”


About the Author: 
Mia Storm is a hopeless romantic who is always searching for her happy ending. Sometimes she’s forced to make one up. When that happens, she’s thrilled to be able to share those stories with her readers. She lives in California and spends much of her time in the sun with a book in one hand and a mug of black coffee in the other, or hiking the trails in Yosemite. Connect with her online at MiaStormAuthor.blogspot.com , on Twitter at @MiaStormAuthor, and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/MiaStormAuthor

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