Reviews Wild Irish and Smooth Irish by Jennifer Saints

Do you like hot Southern men?  Do you like sexy black hair and blue eyed, Irish men? Do you like Alpha men with a touch of tenderness….THEN you do not want to miss Wild Irish and Smooth Irish by Jennifer Saints. 
Ms. Saints has written two erotic romances, that are just that, EROTIC and ROMANCE.  These books are sensual and erotic, without using the words cock, pussy, fuck, you know, all the words commonly found in erotic romances, nor was there a menage or anal sex. DO NOT GET ME WRONG, I LOVE raunchy, smutty, dirty talking books, BUT it was refreshing to read a book that is so intensely sensual that it does not need the raunchy side of sex to make it erotic. These two books are also available as a graphic novels, with high-resolution photos interspersed within the book.  


As of today 8/3/11, Wild Irish is $.99 and Smooth Irish is $3.99 on Amazon and these are are full length books =) 


Jennifer Saints also writes as JL Saint and Jennifer St Giles.   Please note, in this blog I will review both Wild Irish and Smooth Irish.   

Twelve years ago wrong side of the tracks bad boy, Jesse Weldon, was framed for a crime he didn’t commit by the blue-blooded Jordan family. Now he’s back in Savannah with his highly successful security company to put the Weldon name on the right side of the tracks. Unfortunately, before he can even make a move in that direction, he runs into Alexandria Jordan and ends up making the same mistake he did before. He succumbs to her allure, but this time, he plans on getting her out of his system for good and walking away.

Except for a few wild moments with Jesse at seventeen, Alexi Jordan has followed the life expected of her. But a Wedding Day betrayal from her blue-blooded fiancé has her running from her life and right into the arms of the man she’d never forgotten, Jesse. Yet as she forges a new future for herself amid the scandal of her aborted wedding, Alexi finds herself the target of a twisted killer and both her and Jesse’s days are now numbered.

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“Almost,” Alexi said, letting the last illicit picture she had of Roger fall from her grasp to the ground. She’d only ever been with Roger and he didn’t count. Not anymore. She sucked in air, latching onto Jesse’s appeal. The reporters encircled them. Jesse lifted his hot gaze to her eyes and smiled.

“Almost?” Slow and sexual, his grin spread awareness over her. “Sounds frustrating. Interested in changing that?” He ran his finger under her chin and she caught her breath.

Yes, some part deep inside her shouted. Yes, she wanted to change that. Here was one situation her grandmother couldn’t smooth over with a lie. With the cameras rolling, Roger and her grandmother would get a clear picture that Alexi meant it when she said she wasn’t marrying Roger ever.

“Yes,” Alexi said to Jesse, stepping closer to him. Waves of his sex appeal washed over her. Waves she had no trouble remembering, though she’d only been seventeen when she’d last dipped into them. His nearness and touch sparked something inside of her that wanted to rebel against everything that had just happened to her. “Kiss me,” she demanded, loudly.

Jesse arched his brow and asked softly, “What’s your game Lexi?” His slid an arm around her and pulled her flush to his chest, her breasts to his hard muscle. Then his mouth covered hers. She gasped at the desire shooting through her as his tongue entered her mouth, and his gaze dared her to respond.

She wound her arms around his neck, pressed closer to him, and met his tongue with hers. His eyes widened with surprise, telling her that he’d expected her to put him off rather than to take him up on his challenge. After that first moment, he didn’t hesitate in delivering a four-alarm kiss. He bent her back over his arm, inserted his leg between hers and had one hand cupping her butt. In one kiss he ravished her from the inside out and she burned for more. By delivering a message to her grandmother, what message had she delivered to herself?

He ended the kiss, but kept her captive in his embrace as he stared into her eyes. The cameras continued to flash and the world swirled crazily. She ran her fingers into the silk of his hair and kissed him again, wanting to chase away the chill Roger had left inside her. Jesse groaned and deepened the kiss more.

Her heart pounded at the line she crossed by welcoming his embrace in so public a way. He smelled faintly of aftershave and some indefinable, but intriguing scent. His body, strong and sure, eased around hers, a balm to her chaffed emotions. Yet before she could lose herself in him, he ended the kiss. Emotion and desire collided, springing tears to her eyes.

“You. You Peeping Tom!” Her search for something sophisticated and deadly to say fizzled as ridiculous.

“Careful. You’re giving me ideas for a new profession.”

She didn’t have a chance to reply before his leather jacket descended over her head and his strong arm encircled her.

“Tell me how sorry I am later, sugar.” He plucked the inverted umbrella from her, popped it back right, and held it before them as he propelled them toward the back door of the yacht club, not the least daunted by the storm’s fury. But then, Nan didn’t think much got past Jackson’s thick wall. She gritted her teeth, irritated. Both the timing of Jackson’s appearance and the man were too welcome for her peace of mind.

She tingled from the heat of his arm about her, the feel of his lean, hard body next to her, and the tangy scent of musk and leather enveloping her.

“Here we go.” He hustled her into a lit hallway.

Anxious to rid herself of his scent, she slid his coat off. Cool air assaulted, making her too aware of the heat from his body behind her, touching her, like he’d said on the phone.

Can’t you feel me? I’m right up against you. Feel the heat? My hands on you…my mouth.

She shivered. The creamy watered silk walls, crown molding, and plush carpet contrasted sharply with her soggy, bedraggled state and she turned to face him, feeling like a swamp rat. He’d moved closer and her chest landed smack up against his hot, very male body.

“Where are we?” Drawing back, she teetered, dropping his coat.

“Backstage of the ballroom and just where we need to be.” He grinned and settled his hands on her hips. When he spoke, his deep voice rumbled right to her core and set off a series of delicious quakes. “It’s been a while, sugar. A long while. You hung up too soon last week. We didnt get to the good part.”

Nan tried to stop the quakes of desire from spreading by clenching her stomach muscles. It didn’t help. Jackson let his shoulders rest on the door behind him and drew her between his jeans-clad, booted legs. She didn’t have to look to know how his jeans fit or how his leather boots gleamed. Not a thing about his dark Irish looks and southern bad boy manners had changed.

“Yes, a long while,” she whispered past the lump in her throat. A droplet of water ran down her cheek, dripped onto her breastbone, and slithered between her breasts. Jackson’s gaze followed its path, heated, then lingered. Nan looked down. Her halter-top gown lay plastered to her body like skin, the wet silk clearly defining the rise of her breasts and nipples.