REVIEW: Prince Roman by C.D. Reiss

   

From New York Times bestselling author CD Reiss, comes the sexy and passionate title…PRINCE ROMAN, a new novella brought to you by 1001 Dark Nights! Grab your copy of this amazing novella today!

OUR REVIEW:

Why am I so addicted to all things written by CD Reiss? Because they're romance and chemistry and hotness and absolutely consuming. I can't put them down. I can't look away. I can't stop one clicking. I jump at every book in a Pavlovian way and I'm okay with that. 

Prince Roman just continued my live affair with her worlds. In this case, the world of Silicon Valley and King of Code. This novella was a great blend of conflict and tension and sexiness--and even in its novella length it was fully developed and left me completely satisfied.

For those readers short on time but in need of a jolt of sexy romance this should be what you read next.

   

About PRINCE ROMAN:

Rules for my new job: 1) Do not have sex with a man in the office (again). 2) Do not break Rule #1

I’m playing it cool, clean, and professional…until I meet Roman Bianchi. He’s not an insecure nerd or an ego-hole like the other kings of Silicon Valley. He’s charming and handsome. He’s fun, funny, and smart.

He’s also in the office across the hall.

Two broken rules waiting to happen. I can’t lose this job over some guy. But Roman’s not just some guy. Under that suit and cocky smile, he’s a prince.

 

Grab your copy of PRINCE ROMAN today!

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EXCERPT:

I had her checkmated in four moves. We went best two out of three and she won a grueling second match. When she picked up the big pieces her hoodie hiked up and I could see her belly. When she kneeled down to pick up a pawn, her feet arched in her high heels with the most feminine curve I’d ever seen.

But the best part was watching her move between the pieces, thinking. Her eyes went from square to square, checking corners and seeing options. Playing the big chess set in the park was like opening up her mind and watching the gears turn.

“Have you ever done any climbing?” I asked, moving my bishop three spaces.

“Like what?” Her hair swung as she traced a line from the bishop I’d moved to the queen I was making a plan to capture. “Like mountains?”

“Yeah. Or rocks.”

“I’ve climbed trees. But not recently.” She moved her queen one space. “Check.”

“What?”

She pointed. My bishop had been protecting my king. When I’d moved it, she’d been ready.

A small girl with chocolate skin and a heart-printed down jacket stood on the edge of the board with her arms crossed, tapping her light-up sneaker. She looked to be about seven.

“Are you guys done yet?”

As if woken from a spell, I noticed the park had filled up. Kids yelped and squealed. The swings squeaked. The sun burned bright but not hot.

Raven had her hands on her hips. I thought she was going to yell at the kid for interrupting. I didn’t want her to. I hadn’t told the entire truth about my ex. She’d wanted to settle down, but she didn’t like kids. Nothing was less attractive than someone who wasn’t nice to children.

“He’s in trouble.” She pointed to me. “He’s in check, and as you can see”—she held her hand out to the board—“he’s dead meat in five moves. If you get him out of it, we’ll leave.”

“Five moves?” the girl said. “He’s got you in four!” She jumped onto the board and put her arms around a rook.

“Wait a minute!” Another little voice called from behind me. A boy this time. About the same age as my new partner. “If you move that he can’t castle, and she’s got him on en-eff-three.”

The girl put the rook down and stood next to the boy, looking the board over. I stood next to Raven and said softly, “Is this age appropriate?”

“This is what happens in a city full of geniuses.”

“En-eff-three,” the girl said. “En-see-six.”

“What are they even talking about?” I asked.

“I have no idea.” She leaned against me, and I put my arm around her.

             

     

   

About CD Reiss: C.D. Reiss is a USA Today bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up, she’s at the well, hauling buckets. Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere, but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels. Critics have dubbed the books “poetic,” “literary,” and “hauntingly atmospheric,” which is flattering enough for her to put it in a bio, but embarrassing enough for her not to tell her husband, or he might think she’s some sort of braggart who’s too good to chop a cord of wood. If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.  

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