Saturday, June 29, 2013

JACK STONE by Vivien Sparx Review & Giveaway


JACK STONE: Wild Justice

by: Vivien Sparx


Release Date: June 30, 2013


Jack Stone is the Dark Master. 
A tough man. 
A hard man - and he is sexy as all hell. 
When Jack Stone arrives in the small town of Windswept, Arizona all he wants is answers. 
What he finds is a sexy woman with a lust for BDSM and a secret the locals will kill to keep.


Star Rating: 5 out of 5 

Heat Rating:  HOT!

JACK STONE is a delicious and refreshing change of pace from your typical BDSM master, he is a man who demands not only answers but control served up with his own kind of justice.  Vivien Sparx wrote the perfect start to a new series; it has intrigue, suspense, action and hot sex that leaves the reader satisfied yet wanting more JACK STONE.

This was an AMAZING read! A great story about a man searching for answers and will stop at nothing to get them.   I can't wait to read what happens next in the world of JACK STONE (July can't come soon enough)

Add this to your WANT TO READ shelf and 1-click away on June 30th! 

Excerpt (Chapter 1):


The man shaved, standing naked before the bathroom mirror and listened to the sound of the traffic outside the hotel. He glanced at his watch. It was mid-day. He wondered for a moment how anyone could sleep in a room like this, with the constant roar of passing trucks and cars just a few feet beyond the flimsy walls.
He leaned forward to watch his own eyes in the mirror.
“This could be the place,” he told himself. “This might be the lucky break you have been waiting for.” His gaze went automatically to the tattoo on his left shoulder.
‘July 21st
He threw the plastic razor into the bin under the tiny sink, and turned on the taps to the shower.
“Maybe this place will be where you find the answers.”
He stepped into the shower and scrubbed the dust of the Arizona desert off himself, letting the stinging needles of hot spray scald his skin and unknot tired, cramped muscles until the water began to turn cold. He reached for a towel. Still drying himself he went through and stood at the foot of the bed and stared down at the woman who lay across the tangled sheets.
She was tanned honey-brown, tall and blonde. She was wearing white lace panties. She had large firm breasts and when she rolled onto her side, the man’s eyes were drawn to the tantalizing way her breasts changed shape, and her nipples became suddenly hard. She pouted at him, and then licked her lips with the pink pointy tip of her tongue.
“I’ve been a good girl,” she said. “I haven’t even touched myself yet.”
The man’s eyes drifted across to the small square table and chair beside the bed. The woman’s handbag was open on the tabletop, and her skirt, blouse and bra were folded and draped over the back of the chair. He could smell the woman’s perfume. 
He went to the hotel window and stared out at the flat ribbon of two-lane highway that ran in a straight line from horizon to horizon. Across the road was a roadside diner, and a half-mile further east was the turnoff to his destination. He could read the sign from here.

‘Windswept Arizona. Population 2389. 3 miles.’ 

Outside it was a hundred degrees. Shimmering heat haze rippled the air. He stared at the flat open desert and the distant blue mountain ranges, rising like rugged spires and chimneys, for a full minute. Then he followed the turnoff road with his eyes until it crested in a slight rise about a mile away – to nothing. He figured the town was somewhere beyond that rise, but he didn’t rightly know what to expect. He had never been to Arizona before in his life. Finally the man sighed and turned back to the woman waiting for him on the bed. He smiled down at her. “Are you wet?”
She nodded vigorously. “I’m more than wet. I’m aching.”
The man sat on the edge of the mattress and reached out for the soft warm skin of the woman’s thigh. She shuddered deliciously.
“What has made you wet?”
The woman sat up and her hair tumbled and shimmered down across her shoulders. She tossed her head back exposing the long smooth skin of her neck, and her eyes were wide. “What hasn’t made me wet?” she said.
She ran her eyes appreciatively over the man’s naked body. He was lean and gaunt – a tall man, broad across the chest and shoulders and tapered down to his waist. Each muscle of his abdomen stood out before the taut rack of his flanks. Her eyes drifted down to the thick muscles of his thighs, and then slowly travelled all the way back up to his face. He had sandy brown hair, but it had been bleached golden by the sun, and his face was all hard handsome angles. Not pretty handsome. Rugged handsome.
But it was his eyes that mesmerized her: those dark, dark eyes that seemed to hold so many secrets, and the man’s voice – deep and gravelly and seductive. She could listen to him talk for hours. In fact she just had.
She had picked him up hitchhiking on the side of the road earlier that morning and they had spent the last four hours driving together. But she still didn’t know his name, and he didn’t know hers. Somehow it didn’t matter, and maybe it was better this way.
“I’ve never met a man who was an experienced BDSM Master before,” the woman said, and her voice was suddenly husky. “Some of the stories you told me in the car about the submissive women you had trained and spent time with were hot.”
The man raised a questioning eyebrow. “Are you interested in the lifestyle?”
“What girl isn’t?” the woman asked seriously. “I’ve read all the books.”
The man smiled again. He eased himself down onto the bed beside the woman and his mouth wandered over her breast, his lips kneading and plucking at her firm flesh, his tongue sliding and teasing. The woman felt her sex melting. She felt a sense of strange impatience, and she began to undulate her hips against his lower body.
The man’s big hand drifted down the flat taut hollow of her abdomen and lingered for a moment when his fingers touched the elastic of her panties. His mouth rose from her breast, up along the soft curve of her throat, and then he kissed her hard, thrusting and flickering his tongue possessively inside her mouth. The woman moaned. Her lips parted to the insistent demand of him and as she kissed him back with the desperate hunger of her need, her legs fell open almost instinctively. She slid her hand down until it was covering his, and urged him to continue touching her.
“Don’t stop. Please!”
The man’s hand moved lower inch by tantalizing inch until the woman could feel the pressure of his fingers against her sex through the silky sheer fabric. She moaned again. Her arms went tight around the man’s neck as her hips lifted from the mattress to meet the insistence of his touch. She could feel the teasing press of his fingers sliding the damp material into the creases and folds of her. Then suddenly his hand stopped, and the man broke the kiss. The woman’s eyes went wide in desperate alarm and confusion.
“Get up!” he said sharply. The woman flinched, blinked, and then understood. She saw the dark smoldering look in the man’s eyes. She rose to her feet and stood beside the bed in an obedient rush. The man smiled up into the woman’s face, but his smile was grim.
“Take off your panties,” he ordered. The woman didn’t hesitate. She hooked her thumbs into the elastic waistband and the sheer white lace fell down around her ankles. She stepped out of the underwear and left it on the floor.
She closed her eyes, aroused by the erotic thrill of being naked and on display before the handsome stranger, feeling a sensation of waves ripple down her spine like surges of electricity. She swallowed hard, and when she opened her eyes again, she saw the man was looking at her with an expression that seemed to caress her skin. She felt her nipples harden in reflex. He reached out and casually drew the fingernail of one finger across her breast, and then scratched it lightly down towards the muscles of her stomach. She sucked in a deep breath and held it. Her knees felt like they might collapse from under her.
“Do not move!” the man said harshly. He got slowly to his feet and turned the woman around. His hands on her skin felt like fire. He steered her to the hotel window and pulled back the curtains. Warm heat radiated through the glass and the room filled with bright sunlight.
“This is to repay you for the ride,” he said from behind her. Then he bent her over at the waist and she reached out for the windowsill. She was trembling now. She could feel the heat of his body pressed close behind her.
The man slid his hand down between the woman’s thighs and pushed her legs apart. His hand went greedily to the shaved mound of her sex. The skin there was soft and smooth and hot. He ran his fingers expertly across the swelling folds of her flesh and the dampness of her arousal was slick and slippery to his touch. The woman moaned a throaty sound of anticipation and longing, then glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes wide and pleading with the intensity of her desire. The man smiled.  He pressed the hardness of himself against the gaped opening of her hungry body, and then reached forward and fisted one hand tightly in the tangles of her hair. He tugged hard, lifting the woman’s face so that she was looking out through the window at the passing traffic.
“I want you to be on display,” the man said. “I want everyone who looks in this window to see what your face looks like as I fill you with my shaft.”
The woman groaned, a sultry, throaty moan of passion and lust. She nodded her head, and her breathing was ragged and unsteady.
“Yes,” she said. “God, yes.”
She felt the first inch of him slide within her, and he was massively thick and burning hot. She felt herself being stretched, and her body began to thrill and shudder. There was a sudden warm rush of her arousal, molten and uncoiling in the pit of her stomach – and then he was withdrawing himself, teasing her and maddening her with frustration.
“Reach down between your legs,” the man said. “Touch yourself and tell me how wet you are.”
She did as he ordered. Her hand came away glistening with the juices of her excitement. She held her fingers up for him to see.
“Write my name on the window,” he said. “Use the juices on your fingers to tell the world who owns you.”
The woman gasped. A thundering jolt of wicked, sexy exhilaration burst over her with a force that buckled her legs. It was the most erotic, sexual moment of her life. “I don’t know your name.”
The man thrust himself all the way inside the woman with a single fluid stroke. The woman sobbed. She felt her orgasm hit instantly – overcome with a surge of pleasure that had been built up with anticipation, and driven to the very edge by the deliciously wicked way he was dominating her. She cried out – a long deep moan of blissful pleasure and the force of her release filled the darkness behind her closed eyes with an explosion of white flashing lights and dizzy relief.
“Stone,” the man said. “My name is Jack Stone.”

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Author Info:

As a writer of erotic romance, the beauty of the genre is not in creating lavish settings for my stories. Nor is my fascination for erotic romance drawn from the opportunity to create handsome heroes and beautiful heroines. My real love for the genre stems from the opportunity to take my readers on a journey and engage as many of their emotions as possible. I believe writing erotic romance gives authors the most influence over how a reader feels as we engage them in our stories. Writers of action books, or horror books certainly can create compelling situations, but with erotic romance we writers can immerse our readers in a multitude of emotions unprecedented in any other form of creative fiction. I can frustrate readers, make them laugh, make them cry, delight them, intrigue them, inform them - erotic fiction is a total emotional experience, and it is gratifying to hear readers respond to stories with passion. I believe readers want to be engaged and drawn into the pages of a story, and as a writer of erotic romance, we have the greatest opportunity because our stories are always relatable. They may be fictional worlds and fictional characters, but the themes of love and romance and erotica are so universal, and so personal to each of us that we all respond to stories in different ways. But we all respond. And that’s the true joy of writing erotic romance. It matters not so much how you respond as you read... it matters only that you do respond. If a writer can engage you and make you feel, then the story’s journey is one well worth taking.

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Author Interview:

Bestselling author Vivien Sparx talks about her amazing new hero,Jack Stone in the lead-up to the release of one of the year’s most anticipatedbooks; ‘JACK STONE – WILD JUSTICE’

1. I noticed there is another Jack Stone book called  ‘Jack Stone – Deadly Revenge’ on the Jack Stone fan page. Any idea when that book will be published?

I am hoping to have ‘Jack Stone – Deadly Revenge’ ready for publication at the end of July. That means about one month in between titles. Ideally I would like to keep that kind of pace going.

2. Jack Stone seems very different from the other ‘bookboyfriends’ being written about over the last few years. Was that a deliberatedecision?
place on a very wide landscape – literally all of America. Was that part of the

Yes! I deliberately did not want Jack Stone to be another damaged, troubled, dark, emotional, shattered, wrecked, lost….  soul! He doesn’t need fixing. He doesn’t have any real emotional problems. He is a man on a mission, and he’s not haunted by some deep dark emotional secret. He’s a tough guy, but he’s got his ‘shit sorted’. He knows exactly who he is and he doesn’t care if people like him or not. He’s not out to impress, and he’s not out to please anybody. He’s a man on a mission and he’s exactly the opposite of all the other book characters going around at the moment.

3. You keep referring to Jack’s ‘mission’. Care to explain?

No! It will all become clear when people read ‘Jack Stone – Wild Justice’. This book sets out what Jack Stone is all about. It shows his tough side, his determination, his alpha-male sexy side(!) and a lot of his personality. I think readers will get a sense of who Jack Stone is and what kind of a man he is. In future books, more and more of his background and personality will be revealed.

4. ‘Jack Stone – Wild Justice’ sets up the series to take

Yes! I was tired of writing (and reading) about billionaire’s and virgins. There is only so much that can be done with those kind of characters! Jack Stone is totally different! You won’t find Jack wearing a suit, or undressing some na├»ve virgin in the back of a limousine or on a boardroom table. Jack is a man’s man and the sort of guy who wears jeans and t-shirts. The series is deliberately set in such a way that doesn’t confine the character – that lets him move from location to location and storyline to storyline.

5. Is Jack Stone a good guy?
Yes. Absolutely. He’s a tough, hard man with an absolute sense of moral justice. If he sees something wrong he will get involved. If he sees something that needs fixing he will step in. Writing the kick-ass action sequences were almost as much fun as writing the sex scenes! Jack will not take a backward step when it comes to conflict. But he’s no fool. Jack is smart, clever, and educated.

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