Blog Tour: Sweetly Bad by Anya Breton

My Review

Sweetly Bad by Anya Breton

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Sweetly Bad by Anya Breton is a standalone sequel to Wickedly Good and a part of Curve Appeal , a new series with rubenesque heroes from Ellora's Cave.

This is a charming tale of a yuppy playboy who thinks he's God's gift realizing that his high opinion of himself is wrong, that in fact, he's even a bad kisser and of a beautiful, capable and independent woman who shows him how to be a better person, or at least a slightly less dependent one. Oh, and she also teaches him the proper way to seduce a woman's mouth.

Two people who never thought they'd ever have anything in common come together against the people in their lives that doubted them and tried to hurt them.

Oh, and he's also a witch...roll camera to the steamy scenes and you'll have a very enjoyable quick read in your hands.

Excerpt

Erica never saw supercars in her garage. The modern models were too well made to break down…and those that did certainly didn’t pass through Stoddard. What would have made this Italian masterpiece spew gray smoke out the back?
She popped the door on the tow truck, wincing as the heat pricked the spot between her shoulder blades. Even in a tank top it was uncomfortable to be outside. Erica smiled for the customer because he’d been outside much longer than she had.
With each step she took, more details on man and car became visible. He was handsome—the kind of handsome that made a woman like Erica uncomfortable. His blemish-free skin was the same “frost beige” color as the interior on the Grand Cherokee she had on the hydraulics back at the garage. Skin like that required either unfair genes or an intense moisturizing regimen. Given the rest of his put-together appearance, Erica leaned toward a mixture of both.
The car? Erica would have given twenty bucks simply for the chance to sit inside the vehicle and run her hands over the dash. Fate had arranged it so she’d get paid to do a whole lot more.
“Hi,” she said to the slouched owner. An amiable smile stretched across her face. “Rough day to get stranded.”
He lifted his well-formed nose an inch. “Rougher because I’ve had to wait nearly an hour in this unbearable heat.”
An hour? On what planet did twenty-four minutes equal nearly an hour? Her hackles rose. And somehow it was cooler by his car than it had been near the truck.
Still, she maintained her pleasant expression as she checked for any loose or hanging parts on the car. “Any idea what caused the breakdown?”
“I’d say it had something to do with the smoke billowing out the rear.” That flat tone implied he was hot and an ass.
Erica maintained her cheer. “Do you have any idea what caused the smoke?”
“Haven’t a clue.” The direction of his voice implied he was watching her survey the bottom of the front bumper. “I paid good money to avoid having to worry about my car.”
He’d paid good money, yes, but everyone ought to worry about their cars. Especially if they owned a foreign supercar. Then again, as a mechanic Erica would feel that way. From the scraped paint beneath the front end, it was clear this guy was careless with his costly vehicle.
Erica popped to her feet, scanning the opposite side of the chassis as she did. A cool breeze lifted the hair off her nape. “Did you hear any noises prior to the billowing smoke?”
“No.” He flapped his limp hand in the direction of the car’s rear. “I was driving. I saw smoke. I drove more. The smoke got darker. I kept driving. The smoke obscured the view. So I stopped. That’s when I noticed the fire.”

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