2013, Books, life, Uncategorized

Every Kiss by Tasha Ivy

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Synopsis: After witnessing Makenna’s
journey to find herself again, Callie is reminded of her own
struggles with love. No, Wes wasn’t always the easy going guy that
he is today. He was moody and unpredictable in the worst of ways,
and she was certain to call him out on it every chance she got.
Looking back, she’s amazed at how much their lives have changed
since they met. Before tragedy shook them to the very core of their
lives. Before her dream career began. And before Wes wasn’t a
broody jerk with a closet full of personalities. Yes, just four
years ago, everything was different… Makenna and Shane are just a
couple of lovesick college students, and Callie is doing her best
to keep up with the demands of her junior year. Life is boring, and
she is totally fine with that. But boring flies right out the
window the day Makenna cons Callie into helping with Shane’s
brother’s birthday party. She expects a gangly pimple-faced
teenager, but Wes is far from it. He is temperamental and
opinionated, but he is also incredibly hot and thoroughly enjoys
pushing her buttons. And she pushes his right back. Even though
their undeniable attraction draws them to one another, Wes is clear
with Callie about one thing. Relationships are off limits.
Friendship is all he has to offer, unless of course, Callie is
willing to add a few benefits to that. He works hard to keep the
reasons for his aversion hidden, but secrets have a way of making
themselves known sometimes, no matter how deep you bury them. Two
of those secrets hold the key to unlocking Wes’ fears of the
ultimate betrayal. And the other secret has Callie falling even
deeper than she ever dreamed. But she’s unsure of one thing . . .
is she enough to save him from himself?

Chelly’s Thoughts ❤
Every Kiss picks up where Every Breath left off. Callie and Wes are married, and it is the anniversary of the day they first met. Rewind 4 years and we learn where it all began…
Callie is a loud-mouthed, opinionated, feisty, incredibly loving and caring college junior who seems to have a thing for bad guys. After being used just for sex in her last relationship, she’s decided relationships aren’t worth it – simple and uncomplicated is what she needs.

When Callie’s BFF, Makenna, talks her into helping set up a party for her boyfriend, Shane’s, brother, the last person she expected to meet was someone like Wesley Baxter. She is immediately attracted physically to the Greek God, but it doesn’t take Callie long to realize that Mr. Moody is a self-centered A-hole. Wes is drawn in by her big mouth – he likes that she calls him out on his BS. After sharing some whiskey and a drunken kiss, they can’t deny their attraction to one another, but Wes is up front with Callie from the beginning – he doesn’t do relationships, at the first sign of feelings, he’s out. Friendship is all he can offer, with maybe some benefits on the side, but Callie won’t be used for sex again.

Callie soon finds out a little bit about why Wes feels this way about relationships, but when she confronts him about it, he just pushes her further away. Why won’t he tell her the truth, what secrets is he hiding? Still, they can’t stay away from each other, and each encounter is harder to resist than the first. Callie knows it’ll never go anywhere but she wants to live in the present and make the time she does have with him worth it, but will Wes allow that or run away? What will it take to prove to Wes that not all women are like the ones from his past? Is the inevitable heartbreak worth the risk?

I LOVED this book! I was immediately drawn in from the beginning and didn’t want to stop reading. Tasha Ivey does a great job of getting you emotionally invested in the characters and I was literally in tears at some points. That’s the sign of a great book for me! It is book 2 in the Every Life series, but you don’t necessarily have to read book 1 to understand what’s going on. I haven’t read Every Breath yet, but now I definitely want to just to learn more about Makenna’s story.



Oh, what kind of hell is this? The
light streaming through the windows only amplifies the pounding in
my temples, and each footstep going down the stairs sounds more
like a sledge hammer connecting with the wall over my head. I want
to crawl under a rock somewhere and die. I knew it would be like
this, but I continued to drink anyway, like a great big idiot. And
then, I only made things worse by drinking whiskey with Wes. Oh,
yeah. Almost forgot about that. That’s probably why I have this
funky taste in my mouth. Deciding I’ll feel better if I clean
myself up a bit, I grab my bag and carefully head into the
bathroom, lazily stripping out of my clothes and laughing at myself
when I notice I’m still wearing my bikini. Not caring to fight for
the perfect temperature, I just aim for somewhere in the
neighborhood of boiling hot and step in, squealing as it stings my
skin and then groaning because it actually feels good. I lather my
hair and body and rinse until I’m clear of not only soap, but
tension, too. Even though my head is still pounding, I feel
refreshed when I step out and pull on my clean clothes—a pair of
black running shorts and my slightly wrinkled Breaking Benjamin
t-shirt. It takes a while to get my long hair free of tangles, but
in the end, I opt to pile it all on top of my head in a messy bun.
I don’t have the heart or motivation to deal with it today. And
instead of putting my contacts back in, I slip on my glasses. The
lenses are narrow rectangles, thickly framed in glossy espresso. I
rarely wear them, but I always appreciate how well they match the
low lights in the bottom layers of my blonde hair. After brushing
my teeth—twice—I begin shoving everything back into my bag, but I
freeze when I see movement at my right. I turn toward the open
door, and the realization that it’s been open the entire time I’ve
been in here makes my head pound even more. Wes is in his bed. And
looking right at me. “How long have you been awake?” I ask, praying
to all that is holy that it was after I got
dressed. “A while.” His sleepy voice is gravelly. Deep. All I can
do is stand here with my hands on my hips and gape at him. What do
I say to that? “You know,” he begins, seemingly unfazed by my
embarrassment. “You looked nice yesterday, but I like this look
better.” “Now is not the time to joke around with me.” He rolls his
eyes. “Not joking. I’m dead serious. Your wild hair, the glasses,
the band shirt, bare feet . . . it looks good on you. I’m not the
type to say shit I don’t mean.” If I didn’t know what to say
before, I certainly don’t now. And this is totally not like me at
all. I’m never speechless. I never blush. Why in the hell does he
affect me like that? “You’re a little testy this morning.
Hangover?” He rolls onto his back and rests his hands behind his
head, leaving his chest exposed and causing a little flutter in my
stomach. “Yes.” Finally, the real me decides to break out. “I have
to know. Did you see the whole show or did you wake up after I was
dressed?” He huffs out a little laugh and rolls back to his side,
folding the blankets back and standing. Inside my head, I’m
screaming and bouncing around like a psycho cheerleader. He’s a
nude sleeper apparently. Wes stands and walks into his closet,
bare-assed and completely gorgeous, and he yanks some jersey knit
pants from the shelf and steps into them before walking into the
bathroom like it’s no big deal. “Now we’re even, sweetheart.”

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Author Bio: Tasha Author
Pic Tasha Ivey
is a literature fanatic, whose love for the written word fostered
her development into the writer she has become. A lover of an
extremely erratic mixture of literature, she has been influenced by
authors from Jane Austen and E.M. Forster to Charlaine Harris and
Alyson Noel. But her biggest influence and literary hero? Nicholas
Sparks. Aside from writing, since she doesn’t have anything other
than a shriveled up prune on the left side of her brain, she
prefers to spend her time being creative in other ways like
painting, cake decorating, and various types of crafts. That is, if
the constant voices streaming through her head allow her to stop
making up stories for a while. Lucky for her, she has a huge
supportive family, including her amazing husband and two kids, who
doesn’t complain too much when she hangs out with her characters
more than she does with them. Sophie, the dog, however . . . she
does complain. A lot.

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