Book Description: His name was Joshua Carter. Now it's whatever she wants it to be.
She is a Deliverer.
She lures young men and delivers them to be sold. She delivers the strikes that enforce their obedience. She delivers the sexual training that determines their purchase price.
As long as she delivers, the arrangement that protects her family will hold.
Delivering is all she knows.
The one thing she can't deliver is a captive from slavery.
Until him.
And her stubborn slave thinks he can deliver her...from herself.
Romantic Thriller
Stand Alone (no cliff-hanger). The sequel is coming Summer 2014.
Content warning: Graphic sex, violence, and psychological abuse. Age 18+ only.
Find it on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18621929-deliver
Trailer:
Our Review:
**ARC received for honest review**
Reviewed by Willow ~ 3.5 Stars
When I read the synopsis of this book it really piqued my interest. The idea of a female slave trainer and male slave was something I had not read before so I was looking forward to this touch of originality.
The book begins with the "Deliverer", Liv stalking her pray, Joshua Carter. Only Josh isn't the usual pray Liv goes for. Josh is a star line-backer. He will be missed. But then the client requirements aren't the usual either, so Liv thinks she has no choice.
We learn that Liv is not working alone and we meet Van, who, in my opinion, from the outset seems a nasty piece of work and who is extremely possessive of Liv.
Although the writing style was a little different than I was used to, the plot unfolding before me really captured my attention and drew me into the story. I had so many questions I wanted answering!
Once captured, Josh's training begins. Understandably he is not willing to just accept his fate and he is put through some pretty cruel and torturous things.
"He grunted, tried to scream at her to stop. Breathless. Constricted. Fire lit his lungs and his heart exploded with terror."
It is a requirement of the client that the slave hate women, but instead of Josh hating Liv like he should, he starts to see past some of her masks and starts to understand that she is just as much a slave as he is, she just has no visible chains like him.
We do learn how Liv ended up becoming a Deliverer and the significance of her relationship with Van and we also meet her boss the very mysterious, masked, Mr E.
If there is any doubt in your mind whether this is a "dark" story or not I can tell you it definitely is. There are many unpleasant things in this book, but all relevant to building the story and explaining the characters reactions.
It isn't all dark though. There are lots of hot sex scenes and the development of the relationship and connection that Liv and Josh end up having is strong and you really do feel it.
"I stand here without rope of chains Liv, tethered to you by my own will"
I have to admit that I did think this book was going to be a simple they fall in love and find away to set each other free story and I thought I knew where it was all heading, but then BAM! A twist in the story I was not expecting.... and then another!
I thought the twists were brilliant, but one of them, for me seemed to go a bit to far and I think that took the edge off and disappointed me a bit. I did also find that I lost a bit of interest about a quarter of the way in, but after pushing through a couple of chapters new complexities to the story brought me back again.
A friend told me that this book had left her with a few questions at the end and I have to agree with her. There are definitely things I wanted to know more about, but there is another book in the series coming in the summer so hopefully we'll find out the answers then! I will definitely be picking that book up!
Excerpt:
On his back, muscles bared, bound, and stretched the full length of the box, he was an erotic picture. She was a criminal, and as ashamed as she was by that, the disgusting, fucked-up part of her anticipated spending the next ten weeks touching every inch of this man.
She dragged her gaze from his body to his face, and guilt slammed into her.
He stared up at her with so much pain in his eyes. “Don’t hurt my parents.”
Her gut twisted. She knew that pain, lived it every day. She leaned in, lips hovering a breath away, and repeated what Mr. E had said to her. “That’s up to you.”
Resolve hardened his face. She knew that emotion, too. Her time in the box was permanently carved in memory, which had made Van’s threats of returning her there an effective form of control in her training.
Tendrils of resentment coiled around her throat. To dwell on her or the boy’s predicament would only bring irresponsible hesitation. So she did what she always did to distract her thoughts.
She reached into the cold place inside her, searching for something yearning she could sing with dispassion. The beginning verses of “What It Is” by Kodaline fell past her lips and shivered through the room. She sang with an icy pitch as she removed a blindfold from the trunk by the box and tied it over his wide, glaring eyes.
To deprive smell, a swimmer’s nose plug went on next. He could breathe through his mouth, and the cracks in the box allowed airflow, but it wouldn’t feel that way to him once she shut the lid.
The skin on his face was hot and damp, the muscles beneath jerking against her fingers. She continued to sing as she cuffed headphones over his ears, plugged them into the tablet outside of the box, and activated the timer. Twenty minutes of heart-hammering silence.
The music in her voice strangled, stopped. Twenty minutes alone with his thoughts. Then the misery would begin.
“It’s just the way it is,” she murmured with an ache in her throat.
His body was motionless, but she didn’t miss the goosebumps creeping across his skin or the slight tremor in his cheeks. The sudden desire to comfort him drew her closer, bending her at the waist, until her mouth brushed his, softly, unjustly. His lips pulled away in a quiver that she felt throughout her body.
She straightened and rubbed her breastbone, unable to soothe the ache beneath it. “I’m so sorry.” A whisper, too low to pass through the earphones.
Then she closed the lid.
She dragged her gaze from his body to his face, and guilt slammed into her.
He stared up at her with so much pain in his eyes. “Don’t hurt my parents.”
Her gut twisted. She knew that pain, lived it every day. She leaned in, lips hovering a breath away, and repeated what Mr. E had said to her. “That’s up to you.”
Resolve hardened his face. She knew that emotion, too. Her time in the box was permanently carved in memory, which had made Van’s threats of returning her there an effective form of control in her training.
Tendrils of resentment coiled around her throat. To dwell on her or the boy’s predicament would only bring irresponsible hesitation. So she did what she always did to distract her thoughts.
She reached into the cold place inside her, searching for something yearning she could sing with dispassion. The beginning verses of “What It Is” by Kodaline fell past her lips and shivered through the room. She sang with an icy pitch as she removed a blindfold from the trunk by the box and tied it over his wide, glaring eyes.
To deprive smell, a swimmer’s nose plug went on next. He could breathe through his mouth, and the cracks in the box allowed airflow, but it wouldn’t feel that way to him once she shut the lid.
The skin on his face was hot and damp, the muscles beneath jerking against her fingers. She continued to sing as she cuffed headphones over his ears, plugged them into the tablet outside of the box, and activated the timer. Twenty minutes of heart-hammering silence.
The music in her voice strangled, stopped. Twenty minutes alone with his thoughts. Then the misery would begin.
“It’s just the way it is,” she murmured with an ache in her throat.
His body was motionless, but she didn’t miss the goosebumps creeping across his skin or the slight tremor in his cheeks. The sudden desire to comfort him drew her closer, bending her at the waist, until her mouth brushed his, softly, unjustly. His lips pulled away in a quiver that she felt throughout her body.
She straightened and rubbed her breastbone, unable to soothe the ache beneath it. “I’m so sorry.” A whisper, too low to pass through the earphones.
Then she closed the lid.
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5 winners will win a signed copy of Deliver by Pam Godwin (Open International)
Fantastic review! Thanks so much for reading and participating in the blog tour.
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