Stories and Swag!: BOOK TOUR AND 5 STAR REVIEW: DIRTY ENGLISH BY ILSA MADDEN-MILLS

Meet Declan and Elizabeth in Ilsa Madden-Mills

new fighter romance!

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**Dirty English is a modern love story inspired by Pride and Prejudice**

A scarred fighter.

A girl with rules.

One night of unbridled passion.

There are three things you need to know about Elizabeth Bennett: she’s smart as a whip, always in control, and lives by a set of carefully crafted rules. She’s learned the hard way that people you love the most always hurt you in the end.

But then she meets Declan Blay, the new neighbor at her apartment complex.

A tattooed British street fighter, he’s the campus bad boy she’s supposed to avoid, but when he saves her from a frat party gone bad, all her rules about sex and love fly out the window.

She gives him one night of unbridled passion, but he longs for more.

With only a cardboard-thin wall separating their bedrooms, he dreams of possessing the vulnerable girl next door forever.

One night. Two damaged hearts. The passion of a lifetime.

MICHELLE'S 5 STAR REVIEW:

Hold on to you knickers ladies, the British are here!!

This book was amazing! Two hot British guys, one covered in Tattoos and fights in underground fights....oh yes! Will have you swooning for sure! And I love the things that they say: always adding love at the end of their sentences when talking to a girl, saying Bloody hell...and of course I snickered every time they referred to womens panties as knickers. In my head, I can hear that perfect British accent that will just melt those knickers right off of you! Isla definitely hit one out of the park with twins Dax and Declan. One a playboy, the frat king - always partying it up; and the other, a tortured soul who uses his fists as a way of coping with the pain of his past.. oh, and did I mention the tattoos? Yes, I'm a total sucker for a hot tempered, sexy man with Tatts!

Elizabeth has a painful past, what happened to her on her prom night was not the evening she thought she would have. It wasn't what all girls dream of, in fact, it is the source of her nightmares. She thought her boyfriend loved her, but all he did was leave her drugged in a hotel with a torn dress and a broken heart. She vowed to never be in that situation again, never to let herself love and to always be in control.

**My body was my own.
So was my heart, and I planned to keep it that way.
After that, sex got easy—as long as I was in control. Over the past year, I’d made it into a game with strict rules. Pick an average guy who wasn’t popular or rich or too good-looking. Make sure he wasn’t taken. Make sure he didn’t drink or do drugs. Make sure he wasn’t an escapee from the local insane asylum. Have sex. Never speak to him again. End of story.

It was about control. My choice. My rules. I had to initiate the first move, and I had to be on top. Most importantly, I had to be in my own bed and around my own things. Sex with me was tame by most standards, I suppose, based on some of the crazy stories Shelley had told me about her adventures. But I didn’t care. If they wanted me, then they’d follow my lead.

Two years later, she is still trying to piece her life back together. Known around campus as the girl who is frigid and only does one night stands. She likes it that way. She likes the control. When her friend Shelley convinces her to go to a frat party one night, all of that is about to change. There she meets Dax and Declan, the HOT British twins. Dax is the fun loving, partying and doesn't stand a change with her. She doesn't even want to talk to him once she smells the alcohol on his breath. Then, she sees Declan. And her breath stops. She doesn't know what it is, but when he is near, she can't seem to think straight and it seems all her rules instantly leave her brain.

**He wore tight designer jeans, black motorcycle boots, and a shirt that clung to a chest that had obviously seen its fair share of the inside of a gym. Intense was the word that came to mind when his silver-gray eyes met mine, sweeping over my face, lingering on my bare shoulders. Warmth spread and I got hot as if I’d just stuck my finger in a socket.
What was that?
One thing for sure, he was pure hot male and if you could put it in a bottle, you’d make millions.

Get away from the hotness and tell your ovaries to settle down, my brain yelled, but I stupidly ignored it.

(Snickers, this was one of my favorite lines - She is talking to Declan and she can't seem to control her own body around him.)
*Stop touching the hot guy! I yelled in my head.

And when he offers to go get them a drink...I just couldn't seem to stop giggling at this....
*Declan surprised me by saying he’d get them for us, and I watched him move away, his lithe frame moving with the easy grace of someone used to holding back power like a sexy jungle cat who prowled around and took what he wanted …
I’d like to pet that jungle cat, rub his silky fur and make him purr …
I slapped myself mentally.
Jungle cat? Make him purr? What was wrong with me tonight?

And even though Declan is everything she swore that she would never involve herself with, she propositions him. And boy, was that the worst offer of a one night stand ever!! Declan declines though, dealing with his own past, he doesn't want to get involved with someone after just breaking up with his cheating girlfriend at the beginning of the summer.

That doesn't matter though, they can't seem to stay away from each other. They have a weird connection that neither seem to be able to stay away from. They get hot and bothered and then stop it, Declan asking for more than a one night and Elizabeth not ready to give up her ruless and give him more.

They both must come to terms with their past and try to overcome the pain and let the other in. Two beautifully broken soles, seeking comfort in each other.

Fabulously written, this book will keep you glued until you have devoured every last bloody word. It had the right amount of angst, heartache, laugher, romance and.... HOT British twins (need I say more?). I really hope that you give this book a try, I think you may love it just as much as I did. :)

Michelle Monroe reviewed for Stories and Swag Book Blog

Excerpt of DIRTY ENGLISH

“Come to my apartment and spend the night with me.” I touched his face, my fingers stroking the softness of his sensuous lips. “Just one night and we can make this shitty world disappear.”

He exhaled. “A one-night stand?”

“Yeah.”

He cupped my chin. “Someone hurt you, didn’t they?”

My lips tightened. No one at Whitman knew about Colby except for Shelley and Blake, and I sure as hell wasn’t telling him. He’d judge me like everyone else had in Petal, North Carolina. “That’s none of your business.”

“I see.” His eyes searched mine until I felt like a bug under a microscope. “What if I wanted more than just one night?”

“Then your hands can let go of my hips now.”

He removed his hands slowly, the tips of his fingers grazing mine. “This may surprise you, but I don’t sleep with every girl I kiss.”

I’d been rejected. Again. “Blake said you got around, that you used—”

“And you believed him?” His voice was incredulous. “Dude is in love with you and he saw exactly how we looked at each other tonight—”

“Looked at each other? What are you talking about? You refused to dance with me and then you ran off with your girlfriend. Not to mention I just kissed you and you didn’t even care.” I threw my hands up.

“I wanted to fuck you the minute you walked in that party,” he snapped.

“Then why don’t you,” I bit out, tossing back my shoulders.

“You think you want me?” he said tightly. “You can’t handle me, Elizabeth. I can see it in your eyes. You’re scared of something, maybe not me, but something.”

My eyes went to his black eye.

He let out a harsh laugh. “Ah, that’s what you’re afraid of. You want the real truth? You told me tonight you didn’t like violence, but I’m an arsehole who uses his fists. That’s who I am.”

“What do you mean?”

His gaze was intense, dark and low, his face struggling as he fought to find the right words. “I’m in a fight club for money. I show up at warehouses and fight other blokes. Sometimes I beat them so bad they need medical attention. A few times, I’ve been beat to unconsciousness. I’m everything you need to stay away from.”

I inhaled, anger and lust and excitement all riding me. Anger that he was pushing me away, lust for the alpha male in him, and God help me, the fighting thing repelled me and excited me at the same time. “I don’t want to stay away from you. I want you to fuck me and stop making excuses for why you can’t.”

My words seemed to snap his taut restraint.

He pulled me back in his arms, his lips fusing with mine unerringly. His tongue plundered me in a sensual way my body had craved for years. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my anger morphing into all-out desire as he turned us and pressed me against the wall.

Yes, yes, this is what I craved.

A passion to remind me that I was real, not just some sad excuse of a girl who chose to exist on scraps of love.

Before I knew it, he’d shoved my robe off, his hands sculpting my shoulders, massaging them as he ravaged my mouth. I reveled in the warmth of his hand on my neck as his mouth skated down, kissing the hollows of my throat, sucking on my collarbone.

“Like this?” he asked, his voice dark and gravelly. “You want me to take you up against this wall?”

“Yes,” I moaned. Gone. Past caring as long as he kept his hands on me.

Out of control, my brain whispered, but I beat back the dark warnings as his warm hand found my breast and squeezed, his fingers rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

I gasped in pleasure and arched my back to get closer to his body, ignoring the fear that pricked at the surface.

The rules girl in my head stamped her foot and yelled at me. I ignored her.

But even if I wanted to stop right now, I couldn’t. My tongue tangled wildly with his, my hands pulled at his hair, spurring him on, his hand palming my breast and then tugging. Sharp sensations of need went straight to my core.

“Is this what you want? Something quick where we just take what we want and forget each other the next day?”

No. Not that. Not like the way he said it, like it was something dirty.

“Yes, like that,” I whispered against his shoulder, my mouth on his skin, tasting him as my teeth bit down.

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.

She's addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroes in books. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Instagram, Ian Somerhalder (seriously hot), astronomy (she's a Gemini), Sephora make-up, and tattoos.

She has a degree in English and a Master's in Education.

When she's not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.

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VERY BAD THINGS

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