Friday, June 27, 2014

Mr. Perfect by Linda Howard

“You said shit.”

“What else is a man supposed to say when he sees his glorious bachelor days coming to a swift and ignominious end?”

“You’ve been married before.”

“Yeah, but that didn’t count.

This time I'm not going to use a book's blurb, because it centered on the mystery of the novel, and I'd like to focus on the story between Jaine and Sam.

So Jaine just moved in a new house, and her neighbor is testing her patience. After three broken engagements, she had temporarily sworn off men, and the drunk, noisy and mean man living next to her did not stand any chance.

So imagine her surprise that the infuriating man turned out to be a cop, in the name of Sam Donovan. 


Let's cut to the chase ladies, it was a damn good book and here are my favorite scenes (now Jaine got me swearing too! she has a potty mouth, lols):


His deep voice was rusty, as if he wasn’t truly awake yet, and the single word clipped with irritation.

“Urn… Sam?”


Not the most welcoming of responses. She tried to swallow and found it was difficult to do when her tongue was hanging out. She reeled it in and sighed with regret. “This is Jaine, next door. I hate to tell you this, but you might want to… close your curtains.”
He wheeled to face the window, and they stared at each other across the two driveways. He didn’t dart to the side, or squat out of sight, or do anything else that might indicate embarrassment. Instead, he grinned. Damn, she wished he wouldn’t do that.

“Got an eyeful, did you?” he asked as he walked to the window and reached for the curtains.

“Yes, I did.” She hadn’t blinked in five minutes, at least. “Thank you.”


“Oh, yeah? Can you imagine what would happen if even one of your little marauders jumped my girl?”

“They’d tie up and fight like two wildcats in a sack.”

“Yeah. Like we just did.”

He looked horrified. He released her and stepped back.

“They’d be in the sack before they even introduced themselves.”

“We’ve never introduced ourselves,” she felt compelled to point out.

“Shit.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m Sam Donovan.”

“I know who you are. Mrs. Kulavich told me. I’m Jaine Bright.”

He lifted the arm covering his eyes and turned his head to glare at her. “I knew you were trouble the first time I saw you.”

“What do you mean, trouble?” She sat up, glaring back at him. “I am not trouble! I’m a very nice person except when I have to deal with jerks!”

“You’re the worst kind of trouble,” he snapped.

“You’re marrying trouble.”

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