Gracie is a con artist, she makes her money by convincing the rich and stupid that she is a woman in need. When she has an unpleasant personal encounter with an almost-one-night-stand she ends up at the hospital to get an x-ray. There she meets Beth, a doctor who is rather analytical in love. However, when Beth and Gracie come in contact then analytics be damned – there are sparks!
On the way out of the hospital Gracie meets her next mark, a wealthy patron to the hospital. Little does she know that the man she is intent on conning is a killer who will stop at nothing to hunt her down. And when Beth gets caught trying to help she is forced to flee with Gracie.
A situation that keeps getting worse and a madman out to kill them both might be a little distracting for some but when there is chemistry this undeniable you can’t help but fall in love… or maybe not.
A race to escape death, witty banter and some killer moments make this an absolute must-read.
My favourite thing about Natasha West’s writing is her well thought out characters and their journeys.
I loved how Gracie starts off as a rather unscrupulous criminal who is up for a bit of fun and by the end of the book she has become a lot more serious.
On the flip side we have Beth who starts off way too sober and ends up learning to live a little.
West has a comical, witty style of viewing the world that gave me a good chuckle even while reading quite a serious plot.
A down side is some grammar issues. There are a few missing commas, weird spaces and other oddities. But know that going in and skim past them as you enjoy the thoroughly fabulous journey.
I absolutely LOVED this book. Every moment kept me excited and enraptured. The writing is fluid and the characters relatable and quirky. The romance was adorable and the premise enthralling.
Get this book if you love the quick pace of a suspense with witty banter and an adorable romance. Really this book has it all and I can’t wait to read it again.
Excerpt from Chase Me by Natasha West
So there she was, sitting on my chest, a fair amount of her weight on one of my arms too which was really starting to hurt, so I turned to Emma, who had gone into a state of shock and asked politely, if woozily, ‘Would you mind?’
Emma came to and dragged the woman from my chest, yelling, ‘Robyn, you psycho! This is why I want to break up!’
But Robyn, who I was getting a better look at now that she wasn’t constricting my breathing, and looked like she could deadlift a Holstein, was not about to be shamed. ‘You can’t keep doing this to me! My therapist told me that I deserve to be loved properly!’
I was semi-interested in how things would turn out between Emma and her paramour. But I also enjoyed breathing, so I decided I’d better take my increasingly painful arm and leave them to their theatrics.
I began to gradually back away, trying not to alert anyone to my movement. But as I moonwalked up the street, Robyn, mid blazing row, turned and spotted my escape attempt.
‘Where do you think you’re going, slut!?’ she shouted.
I took a moment to consider replying something to the effect of I didn’t think it was alright for one woman to call another woman a slut, that it’s patriarchal language meant to keep women down. But then I realised that her screamed insult was unlikely to be the start of a respectful dialogue and was much more likely a rhetorical question meant as the segue to a beating, so I abandoned the smooth exit and simply bolted. After all, I’m a lover not a fighter. But I heard her coming for me, those angry pounding feet coming at me again.
But this time, I had an advantage. I was scared shitless. That’s what fear is for, to protect you from potential predators. You get that boost of adrenaline and you can practically fly. So I’m running as fast as I can – I wouldn’t beat Usain Bolt but I might keep pace with him – and eventually, I put some distance between myself and Robyn’s angry stomping.
I walked home without further incident, doing the arm equivalent of a limp (which is just kind of holding your arm and rubbing it) and climbed gingerly into bed, hoping to wake to a simple bruise.
But when I woke at six in the morning to a pain I’d never known down my left forearm, I knew I was going to have to get it checked.
And that’s how I ended up going to the hospital, where I met Dr Beth Carmichael. That’s not the bad bit. Mostly not, anyway. It’s complicated. You see, the thing about Beth is… You know what, I’ll circle back around to that.
Because I also met Patrick King. The man who would go on to burn my world to the ground.
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Bits and Bobs
- Publisher: Indie author
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