Series: The Rhythm #1
Published by Self-Published on March 8th, 2016
Genres: Contemporary Romance, Romance, Romantic Suspense
Number of Pages: 288
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Music in my head, dance in my body, the rhythm of my heart.
How far can you fall in just one month? How quickly can the human spirit be broken? Where does evil hide in plain sight?
Ash wants to dance. Needs it. To leave behind a life of expectation and duty, to set his soul free.
But life is never that simple. Every step is a journey on a new road.
For every action, there is a reaction.
Every choice has a consequence.
And when you meet the wrong person, all bets are off.
Laney tolerates her limitations, pushing quietly at boundaries. But when Ash crashes into her world through rage and violence, it sets off a chain reaction that neither of them expected.
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I don’t know what I was expecting when I started reading this book, but wow, it was so much more than I anticipated. It was raw, yet beautiful; heartbreaking, but full of hope; dark, yet full of love. Slave to the Rhythm is a brilliantly written book about a man who loves lives to dance and the woman who loves him.
Ash moves to Las Vegas from Slovenia to live his dream as a ballroom dancer. He gets more than he bargained for when he discovers that he has sold his soul to the Russian Bratva. He and his fellow dancers are made into modern-day slaves, with no means to escape. Their lives are threatened and they are tortured, both physically and mentally.
Amongst all of this, Ash meets Laney, a woman who would turn into his savior. She helps him escape Vegas, but he is unable to outrun the nightmares and terror that follow him to Chicago. The story changes, though, once they are away from the violence of Las Vegas. Laney and Ash have a beautiful romance amidst the healing and the moving forward with life.
Slave to the Rhythm was so much more intense than I had bargained for. The sadistic Russian men, the horrifying torture, the human trafficking, everything that Ash saw and suffered through was unnerving for me. I don’t mind darker reads, but I usually have time to prepare for them. I was surprised, but I don’t want you to be.
Having said that, I would not go back and change my mind about reading this book. I thought that everything was very well written and handled in a raw and truthful way. It highlights the statistics of human slavery, human trafficking, and drug trafficking that goes on in America every day, right under our noses. I applaud Ms. Harvey-Berrick for pulling back the curtain and giving us a glimpse into a world that no one should have to live in.
Slave to the Rhythm
by Jane Harvey-Berrick
His eyes glowed, passion firing through them. Then he lowered his head and kissed the back of my hand.
It was a sweet, old-fashioned gesture, totally at odds with the lust I saw as he let his eyes stroll across my body, seemingly unable to choose between my breasts or my lips.
I helped make up his mind by folding my arms around him and tugging his head down so I could press my lips against his.
He opened his mouth, then proceeded to give me the hottest, slowest, most tantalizing kiss I’d ever had. He was telling me that he was in control and he’d kiss me the way he damn well wanted.
Playful Ash, serious Ash, flirty Ash—I couldn’t help thinking that sexy-as-sin Ash was proving to be my favorite.
His hips moved in a slow rhythm that may have been dancing or may have been back-to-basics grassroots grinding. I reached down for the heat between his legs, massaging the growing bulge at the front of his jeans.
A shudder ran through his body and he ground harder against my hand. I couldn’t wait to be skin to skin.
I unbuttoned his shirt clumsily, fingers deft as sausages as I tried to get at his bare skin. He laughed against my lips and lifted his arms so I could pull the cotton over his head.
Skin like warm silk, smooth and soft, covering hard muscle, my fingers dragged across the planes and ripples of his chest and stomach, then fluttered over the welts and scarred flesh of his back.
Ash kicked off his shoes, and rid himself of the rest of his clothes before prowling toward me. His eyes said, naked now! Mine replied, make me.
He swept me from my feet so swiftly, my stomach swooped, and he carried me to the bed, our bed, working my clothes from my body between slow, hot kisses.
I closed my eyes, needing some defense against his beautiful face and the sensations that threatened to overwhelm me. He was an ocean wave, the high tide, and I was drowning in happiness and physical pleasure.
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