Series: English #2
Published by Little Dove on July 9, 2016
Genres: College, New Adult, Second Chance Romance
Buy on Amazon
**THIS IS A STAND ALONE BOOK**
A smokin’ hot British player…A jilted girl…One night of mistaken identity…
Two weeks before her wedding, Remi Montague’s fiancé drops her faster than a drunken sorority girl in stilettos. Armed with her best friend and a bottle of tequila, she hops a plane to London to drown her sorrows before fall semester begins at Whitman University.
She didn't plan on attending a masquerade party.
She sure didn’t plan on waking up next to the British bad boy who broke her heart three years ago—the devastatingly handsome and naked Dax Blay. Furthermore, she has no clue how they acquired matching tattoos.
Once back at Whitman together, they endeavor to pretend they never had their night of unbridled passion in London.
But that’s damn hard to do when you live in the same house…
One night. Two damaged hearts. The passion of a lifetime.
*A modern love story inspired by Romeo and Juliet*
**no one dies in the writing of this novel**
Everyone loves a bad boy, so what happens when the hero of Filthy English is not only a traditional bad boy, but comes complete with a sexier than sin English accent? You fall in love, that’s what happens. There are no known limits of the magnetism and swoony power that is known as Dax Blay.
What was it about him that made me so weak?
The answer was simple: Dax Blay was my Achilles heel, my one vulnerability.
Anyone who knows the types of books I read and what I like vs. don’t like, can generally come to one conclusion fairly easily. I love angst. Seriously, it’s my drug. I’ll throw down romcoms and dark books with the rest of them, but angst is where my heart is. I want to FEEL my heart pitter patter. I want to be short of breath. I want to be rooting for these characters to try and make it work so hard that my chest hurts. If you look on my ‘favourites’ book shelf on GR, more often than not, these elements are present in those books. I. Love. Every. Second. So, with that being said, obviously I hated Filthy English.
Oh my goodness is book was awesome. There was angst all over the place, I was getting whiplash from the feelings and memories and denial and desire. Man this is like my crack. *Give it all to me now!!* Dax and Remi had (what I’m my mind seemed to be) the perfect amount of angst. Plenty to keep you guessing, but you weren’t suffocating in it and there was still hope. The only thing better in my book loving world than angst is to add tension as well. Lots and lots of tension. It doesn’t even have to all be sexual tension, emotional works too, but add a good dose of that in and I’ll love you forever. Ilsa, you might now be my best friend, because you threw it at me by the bucket load and I LOVED EVERY SECOND! With all of the current drama between Dax and Remi, we were even gifted information about their past, shown some mystery and figured out why they didn’t work before. I might as well stop my review here because I don’t know what else I can say to prove that it’s a home run. If you don’t like what I like… Meh, still read the book. It’s pretty good stuff.
Maybe he still wasn’t ready—but my love?—it was wild and crazy and wicked with a filthy need for him. I craved him, body, soul, and mind.
I don’t think I’d want to live if he died.
I don’t think I could carry on without knowing he was breathing.
I loved the contrast that Ilsa created between using a second chance romance trope and mixing it with a case of hidden identity. Not only was it intriguing, but I had the biggest smile on my face because it was so much fun to read. Waiting for these two to figure out who the other was, how would they react? What would happen from there? What happened in the past between them? Were they going to deal with it? Could they move on? It’s safe to say that Filthy English captured my attention immediately, and in turn, I devoured it.
“I—I don’t hate you. I could never in a million years hate you,” I whispered.
His eyes flicked to mine. Searching. He exhaled and tore his away. “Yeah? Well, you got a funny way of showing it.”
I bit down on my lips to keep the words in my heart from spilling out.
You can’t hate the first boy you ever loved.
This story takes it’s reader on quite the roller coaster ride of emotions. I was elated, angry, exasperated, my heart was breaking just to then swell again, I couldn’t seem to settle on just one feeling. Ilsa takes you through every emotion and every feeling with such poise, I wasn’t simply reading, I was experiencing.
I’m not only a huge romantic, but I may also have an itsy bitsy liking of some old dude named Shakespeare. (This was also the perfect time for me to read this story considering I’m going to see one of Shakespeare’s plays tomorrow night in the Stratford Festival! I’m only a little excited. Okay, back to the regular programming). When I first found out this book was inspired by Romeo and Juliet, I was all over this faster than you can say Dax Blay is a Sex Lord. Ilsa does justice to not only herself, because this book is awesome, but she kept the integrity of Romeo and Juliet. (Just throwing this out there, it is NOT a modern retelling. That would be sad because everyone dies. Filthy English is simply influenced by a few details/scenes, which perfectly connect the two. #nodying #nospoilers).
She was my light, my breath. She was my Juliet.
Only we’d have a happy ending. I’d make sure of it.
Generally when reviewing, I’ll try to write a paragraph about my feelings for both main characters. In this case, it going to merge them together because you really just need to enjoy the journey with them, not take what I say at face value. Dax tugs at the heartstrings. He’s alpha, he’s pure man, he’s protective and gentle and will beat the crap out of anyone necessary to defend his girl. In my eyes, Remi was always his. In turn, Remi was such a sweetheart, truly down to earth and genuine. Both of these characters have experienced grief in their past and it really helped to shape them into who they are as adults. This becomes extremely evident and both helps and hinders an already complicated situation.
“I want to be so deep inside you that nothing will ever tear us apart,”
It’s not often that you come across a book that has a hero who is open (at least to himself) about wanting the heroine, but also acknowledges that she can hurt him. It seems (at least to me) that in so many stories these days, it’s always the heroine who is scared of getting hurt. I completely understand that, trust me, I do. But here, it’s so refreshing to have not only a confused heroine, but a hero who is just as lost. Dax KNOWS fully well the power that Remi holds over him. She’s the one girl who got away, they one he could never stop thinking about, even years later when she is suppose to be married. It made me fall for him that much more with how he came right out and expressed his fears.
“I’m scared, Remi. Fucking scared. You. Can. Hurt. Me.”
My heart breaks a bit because when Dax and Remi are alone, it’s beautiful, but when the world steps in, everything turns to chaos. People get in the way, secrets are revealed, those damn pesky emotions play a part in everything, and hearts are broken.
It’s beautiful, it’s real, it’s filthy.
Dax is a temporary guy and I’m a forever girl, and the two didn’t go together. Ever.
The battle of feelings between these two – whether to act on them, bury them, walk away, stay and fight was exhilarating. Here’s the thing, these two want to be together, is palpable, but there are so many obstacles standing in their way. Remi’s fiancé is in the picture, Dax leads the typical playboy lifestyle, and the way they each grieve for a lost one has changed them. Together they may be able to create magic, but one wrong step and they would destroy each other.
There are no coincidences in life, only fate pushing you toward one another.
He was my imperfect soul mate, and every tiny thread in the universe had stitched my heart to his, piecing us together, fashioning us into something that was, in my mind, absolutely perfect.
A few final thoughts on Filthy English:
1. I guess I kind of maybe sort of liked it.
3. Ilsa is the newest author I need to get on board with. (This is not my first IMM book, but so far it’s my favourite. I need the rest now!!!)
4. Can we get a story about Lulu and Spider? I bet they’d make colourful haired children. Cause that’s how genetics work, obviously.
5. I used a damn plethora of quotes because I couldn’t decide between all of this goodness. I’m not even sorry.
Until next time, stay filthy!
*An ARC was provided by the author and TRSOR in exchange for an honest review.
Without much thought except for comfort, instinctively I pressed myself against him, fitting into his arms as easy as breathing. He leaned against the brick wall of the neighboring building and wrapped me up, sensing my need to be grounded.
I don’t know how long we stood like that—maybe a minute, maybe five—but soon our breaths were in sync; the rise and fall of his chest in perfect accord with mine.
One of his hands traced down my spine and then up. He outlined my shoulder blades with his fingertips. His hands drifted to my hips then caressed back up to my hair, massaging my scalp.
But what had started as an innocent hug changed.
Fire licked my skin everywhere he touched. Of their own accord, my hands slid down to his waist and teased the line where his jeans rested on his hips. I went further, my fingers toying with the V at his hip until I felt him harden against me.
Lips brushed the top of my hair. “Remi . . . look at me,” he said, his voice raspy.
If you look up, you’re going to kiss him . . .
I tilted my head up and his mouth fused with mine in an instant.
Insistent. Wild. Hot. Yes! This is what I needed.
I groaned, and my hands rushed to his shoulders and dug in.
He was wrong—terribly wrong—for me, but it felt so right.
I felt wonderfully alive, revved up, as if I could crush a car with my bare hands, or push Dax against the wall and fuck him senseless. I recognized the feeling for what it was—an I almost-died-and-now-I-want-to-experience-life feeling.
“Wait,” he breathed as I ran my hand under his shirt. “It’s adrenaline. You’ve been through a trauma. You don’t really want this—”
“Shhh.” I lifted his shirt and kissed his chest, my tongue flicking over his nipple. “You taste like every good thing I’ve ever wanted.”
His taut restraint snapped, and he swayed into me. “God, I can’t tell you no.”
Signed Paperback of Dirty & Filthy English
$50 Amazon Gift Card (One Winner)