{"id":4750,"date":"2016-11-18T08:00:20","date_gmt":"2016-11-18T13:00:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bookmaven623.wordpress.com\/?p=4750"},"modified":"2016-11-18T08:00:20","modified_gmt":"2016-11-18T13:00:20","slug":"review-heat-wave-by-karina-halle","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jackiepaxsonauthor.com\/index.php\/2016\/11\/18\/review-heat-wave-by-karina-halle\/","title":{"rendered":"Review: Heat Wave by Karina Halle"},"content":{"rendered":"

 
\n\"heat-wave-banner\"
\n 
\n 
\n\"heat-wave-3d-book\"They say when life closes one door, another one opens.<\/em>
\nThis door happens to lead to paradise.<\/em>
\nAnd a man I can never, ever have.<\/em>
\nStill grieving the loss of her sister who died two years ago, the last thing Veronica “Ronnie” Locke needed was to lose her job at one of Chicago\u2019s finest restaurants and have to move back in with her parents. So when a window of opportunity opens for her \u2013 running a kitchen at a small Hawaiian hotel \u2013 she\u2019d be crazy not to take it.
\nThe only problem is, the man running the hotel drives her crazy:
\nLogan Shephard.
\nIt doesn\u2019t matter that he\u2019s got dark brown eyes, a tall, muscular build that\u2019s sculpted from daily surfing sessions, and a deep Australian accent that makes your toes curl.
\nWhat does matter is that he\u2019s a grump.
\nKind of an asshole, too.
\nAnd gets under Ronnie\u2019s skin like no one else.
\nBut the more time Ronnie spends on the island of Kauai, falling in love with the lush land and its carefree lifestyle, the closer she gets to Logan. And the closer she gets to Logan, the more she realizes she may have pegged him all wrong. Maybe it\u2019s the hot, steamy jungles or the invigorating ocean air, but soon their relationship becomes utterly intoxicating.
\nThere\u2019s just one major catch.
\nThe two of them together would incite a scandal neither Ronnie, nor her family, would ever recover from.
\nForbidden, Illicit, off-limits \u2013 sometimes the heat is worth surrendering to, even if you get burned.<\/p>\n

\u00a0Review:<\/h2>\n

Ronnie met Logan first.\u00a0 All that is thrown out when he meets her sister.\u00a0 Seven years later, Logan is a widow and Ronnie is jobless.\u00a0 Logan hires Ronnie to be a chef at his restaurant in Hawaii.\u00a0 Soon they discover that they have both been lying.\u00a0 Lying about themselves and their family.\u00a0 As the truths come out so does the hidden passion that has always been there.\u00a0 Can their forbidden love survive or will they be ripped apart yet again?
\nHoly Swoonies, Batman!\u00a0 I was totally addicted to this book.\u00a0 I loved this story and the love, intrigue, secrets and lies.\u00a0 Not to mention the setting will make anyone want to jump a plane and go to Hawaii.\u00a0 Ronnie and Logan were both strong characters with such emotional depth that the reader feels it throughout the book.\u00a0 You will run the gambit of feelings.\u00a0 You will hate Logan, feel sad for Ronnie, love them both and then feel hurt when they are betrayed.\u00a0 This book truly has it all and has become one of my favorite books of the year.\u00a0 I can see myself reading this again when I have time.\u00a0 If you are looking for that one book you have yet to find this year that will leave its mark on you, I guarantee you will want to pick this phenomenal Karina Halle book.\u00a0 You won’t be able to put it down until its done and then you will want to pick it right up again to experience their love all over.<\/p>\n

AMAZON<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0Amazon Paperback<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0iBooks<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0B&N<\/a><\/h1>\n

 
\n\"heat-wave-teaser-2\"<\/p>\n

PROLOGUE<\/em><\/h1>\n

I saw him first.
\nIt shamed me to think it then, it shames me to think it now.
\nBut that\u2019s what the truth does to you sometimes. It shames you because it\u2019s only in the truth that you realize how human you really are. What a raw, devastating thing that is, to embrace your humanity and learn to live with all your sharp points, the hollow places, the cracks and the crevices. To be utterly real. To be terribly flawed.
\nThose cracks had always been forming inside me, slowly making their way to the surface over the years. In my family, there wasn\u2019t much you could do but try and hold yourself together, to stick glue on your wounds, to paste over the imperfections. But the cracks still grew, until all of us were held together by crumbling cement, just statues waiting to collapse.
\nThat was years and years ago. I was just twenty-two at the time. A baby. I\u2019m still a baby in the grand scheme of things, but there\u2019s something precious about your early twenties, where you think you\u2019re so much older, bigger, than you are, where life is just about to deliver the crushing blows that will knock you off your feet for the rest of your days. The small things become the big things and the big things become the small things and you aren\u2019t quite sure when they made the switch.
\nBut in the end, I saw him first. He was mine, even before he knew it. He was mine in some strange way that I still don\u2019t understand. The only way I can think of to explain it is\u2026
\nYou just know.
\nThere are moments in your life, people in your life, that when they cross your path and meet your eye, you know. Maybe it\u2019s all in the chemistry, certain pheromones that react when they mix together, maybe it\u2019s a smell that triggers a memory, maybe it\u2019s a glimpse at a future you don\u2019t recognize or a hint at the past, a life you\u2019ve lived and forgotten. Whatever it is, you know that moment, that person, is going to shape you for the rest of your life.
\nThat\u2019s what it was like when I saw him. Standing over by the windows and staring out Lake Michigan, like he was wishing he could be anywhere but there.
\nI wished the same. My mother\u2019s the deputy mayor of Chicago and this was another one of her fundraisers I felt obliged to attend. It was tradition in my family, for my father, for me, for my sister, to show up and wave the flag of support. It didn\u2019t seem to matter that the stuffy politicians that surrounded these events never paid me any attention. And if they did, it was the wrong kind of attention, always the sixty-year-old man leering after the young thing with the nice smile.
\nLuckily I didn\u2019t smile all that often. My resting bitch face took over whenever I was deep in thought, which was pretty much all the time.
\nBut this guy\u2026I felt a kinship with him. I felt like I knew exactly what he was thinking, feeling, and that it was completely wrapped up in and connected to everything that was going through me.
\nI don\u2019t know where I found the nerve to go over and talk to him. He seemed so much older, not quite the sixty-year-old politicians I was used to seeing, but maybe in his early-thirties. More than that, there was some kind of aura around him. Sounds stupid, I know. Whatever it was, it was like he belonged in some whole other universe than here, a star on earth, permanently grounded and yearning to be in the sky.
\nIt was usually Juliet\u2019s job to go around and make everyone feel warm and comfortable at these events\u2014hell, in every event\u2014but she wasn\u2019t here yet. And though I could have easily stayed in the shadows, I was pulled to him, like he had a wave of gravity whirling around him.
\nI remember what I was wearing. Strappy flats because I hated wearing heels, a knee-length cocktail dress in emerald green, sleeveless, high-neck. It made me look older and I wore it because my mother always wanted me to look like a lady.
\nWith a glass of champagne in hand, I made my way over to the windows, my heart racing the closer I got to him. He looked taller up close, well over six feet. His shoulders were broad, like a swimmer\u2019s, and suddenly I had a vision of him diving into the lake. The navy blue suit he was wearing looked well-tailored but he seemed uncomfortable in it, like he couldn\u2019t wait to get rid of it.
\nI stood beside him for a moment, following his gaze out the window. He seemed lost in his thoughts but out of my peripheral his head tilted slightly and he brought his eyes over to me while I kept staring at that wide expanse of water, stretching out to the horizon.
\n\u201cCan\u2019t wait to get out of here?\u201d I asked, but though my tone was mild, my delivery was bold. It was as if someone else had taken a hold of my body, forcing me to speak. I slowly turned my head to meet his eyes.
\nI was taken aback for a second. He was staring at me like he knew me, even though I\u2019d never seen him before. Then again, I was sure I\u2019d been staring at him in the same way. That feeling of knowing. He knew me, I knew him, and who the hell knows how that was possible.
\nHis eyes were brown\u2014are brown\u2014dark with currents of gold and amber, giving them beautiful clarity. Slightly almond shaped. His brows were also dark, arched, adding to the intensity of his gaze. He\u2019s the type of guy whose eyes latch onto you, dig deep, trying to sift through the files of your life, see who you really are.
\n\u201cHow did you know?\u201d he asked, a full-on Australian accent rumbling through his gruff voice. It made my stomach flip, my core smolder. How deed you now<\/em>, is what it sounded like. Funny how I stopped hearing the accent after time.
\nI gave a half shrug and looked back to the party. More people had flooded the room, mingling around the appetizers. My mother was in the corner, a crowd of politicians around her. She didn\u2019t see me. She never did.
\n\u201cBecause I think I\u2019d rather be in the middle of Lake Michigan too,\u201d I told him, \u201cthen be stuck here with all these people.\u201d
\n\u201cThese people,\u201d he repeated. My focus was drawn to his lips, full, wide, tilting up into a smirk. Beneath them was a strong chin and even sharper jaw, dusted with a five o\u2019clock shadow that seemed permanent, like the man couldn\u2019t get a clean shave even if he tried. \u201cHow do you know I\u2019m not one of these people?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause you\u2019re over here and not over there. How come you keep answering my questions with more questions?\u201d
\nHe studied me for a moment. My blood pounded in my head and I felt a giddy kind of thrill at how this was progressing. If anything, I was proud for holding my own with this handsome stranger. He was the first man I ever really felt at ease with.
\nHe cleared his throat, offered me a quick smile before he nodded at the lake, his hands sliding into his pockets. \u201cShe almost looks like the ocean, doesn\u2019t she?\u201d
\n\u201cNot quite the same as Australia, I would imagine.\u201d
\n\u201cNo hiding this accent, is there?\u201d He glanced at me and stuck out his hand, which I shook for a moment, warm palm to warm palm. \u201cI\u2019m Logan Shepard. Australian. And the reason I\u2019m here is because I was invited by a friend of mine. I\u2019m only in town for a few days and he didn\u2019t want to go alone. He\u2019s over there.\u201d He nodded at a tall black man in the corner, listening intently to another man.
\n\u201cWarren Jones,\u201d he said, as if I should know him. Perhaps I should. He probably thought I was one of them.<\/em> \u201cHe\u2019s local and the key piece to my investment.\u201d
\nI wasn\u2019t one for business talk\u2014I never had anything to contribute other than lamenting student loans\u2014but I wanted him to keep talking. \u201cWhat\u2019s your investment?\u201d
\n\u201cStarting my own hotel,\u201d he said. \u201cIn Hawaii. Have you ever been there?\u201d
\n\u201cOnce. When I was eight. I think we were in Honolulu. I remember a city, anyway. Waikiki Beach.\u201d
\n\u201cThis hotel is in Kauai. The Garden Isle. Went there once as a teenager and couldn\u2019t get it out of my mind.\u201d
\nI didn\u2019t know the right things to say. I wanted to ask more about the hotel, what it means when you have an investor, but I didn\u2019t want to appear dumb. I kept my mouth shut.
\n\u201cYou haven\u2019t introduced yourself,\u201d he said. \u201cProtecting a secret identity?\u201d
\nI smiled, close-lipped. \u201cNot really. I\u2019m Veronica Locke. American. And I unfortunately I don\u2019t have much else to add to that.\u201d
\n\u201cLocke?\u201d he repeated, eyes darting to my mother. \u201cAre you the daughter of the deputy mayor, Rose Locke?\u201d
\n\u201cOne of them,\u201d I told him.
\nHe nodded quickly. \u201cI see. No wonder you\u2019d rather be in the middle of the bloody lake. I bet you have to do this stuff all the time.\u201d
\n\u201cIt\u2019s not so bad.\u201d I took a sip of my drink so I didn\u2019t have to say anything more and looked away at the crowd. The bubbles teased my nose, making my eyes water.
\nI could feel his gaze on me as he spoke. \u201cI\u2019m sure you have plenty more to say about yourself though. Where do you work? Student?\u201d
\n\u201cCulinary arts,\u201d I told him. \u201cI\u2019m one of those crazy people who dream of being a chef one day.\u201d
\nHe frowned. \u201cWhy is that crazy?\u201d
\nI gave him a look, forgetting that most people have no idea how hard it is. \u201cBecause it\u2019s a long road, long hours, and nothing is guaranteed. People think being a chef is easy. They see Gordon Ramsey or Nigella Lawson and think it\u2019s all fame and food and money and they have no idea what it\u2019s really like. I\u2019m not even out of school and already I feel half-beaten.\u201d
\nHe was still frowning. He did that a lot, I would soon learn. \u201cSounds like life to me.\u201d His eyes dropped to my lips and something intensely carnal came over them, like suddenly I was the food, not the wannabe chef. \u201cDid you want to get a drink somewhere. After this? When you\u2019ve done your daughterly duties?\u201d
\nI swallowed hard. I didn\u2019t know what a drink meant. Just a drink? A date? Was it sex? I started going through my head, trying to think of reasons why it was a bad idea. My legs were shaved, did my bra and underwear match? Did I have a condom? I had taken the pill this morning, even though my last boyfriend and I had broken up months ago. I hadn\u2019t been with a guy, let alone a man, in a long time.
\nDon\u2019t flatter yourself,<\/em> I quickly thought. What makes you think he\u2019d be interested in you that way?<\/em>
\n\u201cYes,\u201d I said when I finally found my voice. \u201cYes, I would like that.\u201d
\nA spark flashed in his eyes, lighting them up in such a way that made my toes literally curl. Damn. I was in trouble with this man. \u201cAny way you can get out of your duties sooner?\u201d he asked.
\nI couldn\u2019t help but smile, raising my brow at his presumptuousness, while simultaneously trying to hide the fact that I was freaking out. I looked around the room and tried to judge how likely it was that someone would notice if I was gone. My mom was still surrounded by a wall of people and no one was paying any attention to us, standing by the windows, already removed.
\nA sad thought hit me, sliding past before I could really dwell on it: no one even notices when I\u2019m here.<\/em>
\n\u201cIf we\u2019re quick and sneaky,\u201d I told him.
\n\u201cBeing quick isn\u2019t in my repertoire,\u201d he said, \u201cbut I could give it a shot.\u201d
\nAgain. Damn. I wasn\u2019t one to blush but I could feel my cheeks heating up and hoped my skin supressed the flush. He was so much older than me in so many ways, the last thing I wanted was to appear the na\u00efve schoolgirl.
\nAnd I didn\u2019t know what to say to that. He was staring at me with those dark eyes, a look so intense yet sparkling with charm and something\u2026wicked.
\nI\u2019d never find out how wicked they could be.
\n\u201cRonnie!\u201d A melodic, ultra-feminine voice sliced through the moment like an unwieldy machete, causing me to flinch, my fingers tightening around the stem of the glass.
\nOh no<\/em>, I thought. Not now.<\/em>
\nLogan\u2019s head swiveled toward the sound of the voice, like a hound picking up a scent. I didn\u2019t bother looking over, I kept my focus on him, watching his expression intently. It changed, as I knew it would.
\nShe<\/em> had walked into the room.
\nHe saw her.
\nAnd like it was for so many men, that look of lust I had thought was for me, was now for her.
\nThat\u2019s when I knew it was over. Whatever thing I had felt for him, it didn\u2019t matter anymore, not when she was in the room. Nothing ever mattered as long as she was around.
\nI might have saw him first.
\nBut he was all hers after that.
\n\"heat-wave-teaser-3\"
\n\"HalleKarina Halle is a former travel writer and music journalist and The New York Times, Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestselling author of The Pact, Racing the Sun, Sins & Needles and over 25 other wild and romantic reads. She lives on an island off the coast of British Columbia with her husband and her rescue pup, where she drinks a lot of wine, hikes a lot of trails and devours a lot of books.
\nHalle is represented by the Waxman Leavell Agency and is both self-published and published by Simon & Schuster and Hachette in North America and in the UK.
\nHit her up on Instagram at @authorHalle, on Twitter at @MetalBlonde and on Facebook. You can also visit www.authorkarinahalle.com and sign up for the newsletter for news, excerpts, previews, private book signing sales and more.
\nFACEBOOK<\/a> TWITTER<\/a> GOODREADS<\/a> AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

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      They say when life closes one door, another one opens. This door happens to lead to paradise. And a man I can never, ever have. Still grieving the loss of her sister who died two years ago, the last thing Veronica “Ronnie” Locke needed was to lose her job at one of…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"content-type":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4750","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\nReview: Heat Wave by Karina Halle - Jackie Paxson Author Page<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/jackiepaxsonauthor.com\/index.php\/2016\/11\/18\/review-heat-wave-by-karina-halle\/\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:title\" content=\"Review: Heat Wave by Karina Halle - Jackie Paxson Author Page\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:description\" content=\"      They say when life closes one door, another one opens. 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