✰ Bianca ✰ Janeane ✰ 
• 12 March 2019
• Book #10 in the #DirtyRich series and book #3 in the #FilthyTrilogy
• not a standalone!
• Book #10 in the #DirtyRich series and book #3 in the #FilthyTrilogy
• not a standalone!
★★★★
3,9 Stars
3,9 Stars
Passion. Lies. Family. Eric and Harper will feel the push and pull of a dynasty gone wrong. Secrets remain. Danger is everywhere. And the pull of a forbidden love will not be ignored.
The third and final book in the Filthy Trilogy.
We all remember Eric from Grayson's books. BUT The Bastard & The Princess & The Empire can be read as a complete standalone trilogy - but I suggest you read the Dirty Rich series in the right order - all very adorable and sexy and exciting books! ☺
We're back with Harper and Eric where we left them in the second book. Eric was just about to tell Harper this big secret ...
And then of course we still have to find out what all the messages mean, who wants to kill everyone and what is what and who and why and huh? ☺
We're back with Harper and Eric where we left them in the second book. Eric was just about to tell Harper this big secret ...
And then of course we still have to find out what all the messages mean, who wants to kill everyone and what is what and who and why and huh? ☺
Well, I liked this last book a bit more than the 2nd one.
It was again verrry sexy and a little bit exciting and mysterious and adorable!
Lisa finally gives us the little summary again at the beginning. That is so amazing of her for all of us Bookalzheimer-Sufferers!!!
Harper and Eric are finally (almost) done with all those stupid secrets in the first part of the book. Now we have time to concentrate on finding out what's what in this whole mess!
It may take us a while - but we'll get there. Eric is not a mega genius for nothing! ☺
I really like this trilogy and all the people in it - especially all those Walker security guys and the heroes from the previous books - in this case Grayson!
But here's my BUT again ... the book - like with many of Lisa's books recently - was just too long. It wasn't even a mega long book - but 100 pages could've been cut! There are too many too long passages of words. Too much sex (even for me!) Too much of the same. I wanted more action. More new stuff. They keep on repeating every little detail a million times ... like who doesn't trust whom and who has secrets. Still!!
And then the whole mystery and action part of the book doesn't really happen? I expected/hoped for some kind of thrilling gun/fight excitement. But no. Nothing. There was never someone bad behind a door or catching us while walking on the street. These three books could've/should've been sooo much more.
We wouldn't have needed 3 books for this story.
No idea what happened with Lisa and her writing recently ... I'm almost tempted to stop reading her books. But I've been with her since the first Chris book and I just can't stop reading her stories. But why does she write so many books? There are at least two more trilogies coming this year alone, plus a lot of other books. Why??? Quality over quantity please. Write 3 mega amazing books a year and not 25 mediocre ones. Plus they're all sooo long. When does she ever eat or watch Netflix or play with her pets or husband??? Hm.
I'm hoping for better things to come. ♥
THE EMPIRE was a verrry sexy finale in this mystery suspense romance trilogy!
Run to your nearest amazon for your own Eric - this one is MINE!!!☺
Run to your nearest amazon for your own Eric - this one is MINE!!!☺
♥ EXCERPT ♥
↓ Links to the Book & Author ↓
Book #1
Book #2
Book #1
#3
Book #4
Book #5
#7
#8
In life, there are people who touch our lives and leave
lasting marks. There are people who cut us and do so in a way that we feel as
if we might never heal. If we’re lucky, we find that one person who can soothe
the ache of our wounds, if not heal them. That one person who sees our flaws as
perfection. That one person who can make us whole again.
Eric shoves me against the wall of that alcove, and with
that window beside us, overlooking the city, his big body pressed to mine, his
kiss not only devours me—it speaks to me. He’s my one person and I’m his. I
feel that in his touch. I feel that in the way we connect. I taste it in his
kiss. I don’t know where this leads us. I don’t know if it means we can
overcome the Kingston family, but I know we can overcome his demons. He
doesn’t, though. I taste that in his kiss as well. There is torment, a feeling
like he’s bad for me. That he shouldn’t want me and the only comfort I find in
this and where we’re headed is that he isn’t pushing me away—he’s pulling me closer.
And I will hold him tighter.
I sink into the hard lines of his body, slide my hands under
his shirt, hard muscle flexing beneath my palms, the thick ridge of his
erection pressed to my belly. God, how I want him, how I ache for more, and the
next lick of his tongue just about undoes me. I tug on his shirt. “Take
it off,” I order, wanting to feel him closer.
He reaches over his head and tugs it free and then fixes me
in one of those scorching blue-eyed stares, the way he had the first night we
met, and I’m melting right here in this office for him. He tugs my shirt over
my head and unhooks the front of my bra, his gaze raking over my naked breasts,
my nipples puckering beneath his inspection, and my sex clenching, empty, so
very empty without him. “Better?” he challenges, his attention settling on my
face.
My hands come down on his upper arms, the jaguar on his
right shoulder, reminding me just how much he wants to deny his heritage. It
reminds me just how much this family burns him alive. “A little.” I slide my
hands down his hips and boldly stroke the line of his zipper, the thick ridge
of his erection.
He groans, one of his hands covering my hand, the other hand
catching my hair, a rough pull as his mouth closes down on mine again. And then
he’s devouring me again and I love it. I love that I’ve drawn this deep,
guttural reaction from him. I love that he’s all here with me, not in his own
head, not doubting how good he is for me. Not swimming in the ocean of numbers
in his head. Not in the hell of the Kingston family.
This drives me. I want to push him. I want to keep him here,
with me. I squeeze his erection through his pants and whisper, “Why aren’t you
inside me already?”
He turns me, pressing me to the wall like he had in the cottage,
his big body wrapping my body, his hands on my breasts, fingers teasing my
nipples, lips at my ear. “You were always sweeter than revenge,” he promises.
“Always more addictive.” He plucks at my nipples. “So fucking addictive and I
hated you for that.”
He reaches for my zipper and I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t
have to ask what he means. I understand. From the moment we met, he was in my
head, in my heart, his touch imprinted on my body. The man I compared all
others to, and they came up short. “I hated you, too.”
His hands press under the denim at my hips. He caresses them
down my legs and then his arm is wrapping my waist and he’s lifting me. In a
few quick moves, I’m naked and he’s standing at my hips, one palm possessively
on my backside. The other on my belly. “Do you hate me now?” His fingers walk down to my sex and he cups
me.
“Yes.” I look at him. “I still hate you for having this much
control over me.” He slides his fingers along the seam of my sex, sending
sensations darting through my body.
“Is that a bad thing?” he challenges, his palm squeezing my
backside, his fingers slipping inside me.
“Yes,” I say, panting my way through that one word and
somehow adding, “Because when I look in your eyes, like I am now, I see
expectations. The wrong ones.”
He scowls and suddenly he’s turning me, pressing my back to
the wall, his legs caging mine. “What does that mean?” he demands.
“It means as long as you expect to hurt me, as long as you
expect you being a savant, you being different from me, to make us less, we
will be. It means, you expect us to fail and so we will.” I swallow hard, my
hand planting on his chest, his heart thundering beneath my palm, pounding out
an emotional beat. “You think I can’t handle who and what you are. You still
think I’m the princess and you’re the bastard.”
He tangles his fingers into my hair, his touch rough,
erotic, as he drags my lips to his. “We are the bastard and the princess, but I
don’t care anymore. I want you. I fucking need you. Do you understand me?”
Heat rushes over me, through my body, over my skin and
settles in my heart and my sex. “I fucking need you, too.”
“Good, because I might have asked you to stay, but I never
intended to let you go. I’m not going to let you go. I’m not going to let us
go.”
↓ Links to the Book & Author ↓
Book #1
Book #2
Book #4
#8
