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.
*a modern love story inspired by Pride and Prejudice*
ARC received
for an honest review
It has been forever since I have read an Ilsa Madden-Mills book - so many books, so little time! But sometimes, there is just something that makes you jump right in there - and for Dirty English, it was definitely the cover. Am I the only one who wants to lick right up his spine???
Dirty English has a role reversal in it that I kinda liked. Elizabeth Bennett (names after my favourite heroine ever in a book) is all about the wham-bam-thank-you-mister. Get in, get what she wants, get out.
Declan Bray, bad boy on campus. Elizabeth's new neighbour. The man she should avoid at all costs - particularly as he is the first man to pique her interest in a long time. Underground fighter, but deep down a romantic at heart, poetry loving, romance reading, card carrying romantic.
At times I thought "hmmm, should we remove his man card?" But then he would do something/say something so man-ish that nope, no need to revoke his man status!
Both are damaged, have put rules in place in their lives, and are doing their darndest to move forward in life. But she is his "unicorn girl" and he is her "repeat". You just know that there is more to them
I read lots of fighter books, some not so great, others, like Dirty English, that I love.
Dirty English is raw, dirty - and I loved it.
I hope that Declan's brother Dax gets his own book in the future.
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.
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.
