Hendrix: Caldwell Brothers #1 by Chelsea Camaron & M.J. Fields with Excerpt and Giveaway

Hendrix: Caldwell Brothers #1 by Chelsea Camaron & M.J. Fields with Excerpt and Giveaway

Welcome to my stop for Hendrix by Chelsea Camaron and M.J. FIelds, the first book in their contemporary romance Caldwell Brothers series. Please read on for my review, an excerpt, check out the tour stops to see what other readers thought of the title and don’t forget to enter the tour-wide giveaway where you could win a Select eBook Bundle from Loveswept.

Book Review:

I was intrigued by the premise, and interested in seeing where two strong-minded characters could go.  The combination of authors to pen this story promised an intriguing read, and something that just takes a rather mundane set of tropes and makes it work with a unique twist.

I like my heroes to have some depth: tattooed and sexist, with a vocabulary limited to profanity doesn’t lend to the depth I wanted. Yeah – bad boys can be hot, but puddles are boring after you’ve spent the energy finding all the reflections.  Hendrix had far more to overcome for me to believe or be intrigued in him than he presented at first, and even further on in the story, I didn’t necessarily buy into his character.

Matching out this bad boy with a character who comes with her own issues, Olivia is in need of some serious grow up time. She’s a bit of a pushover, with a determination to stand on her own, even if that is unrealistic in the extreme. See, Olivia, to me, was a follower – needing someone to tell her what her next move should be, how to fully grasp onto female empowerment (hint – it’s not a random sexual encounter in a closet with a nameless man) and how to listen to her own inner voices.

These two damaged people are meant to come together, against all odds, and find solace, companionship and love in one another. Never have I felt the “you complete me” line was more relevant here, as both characters, to me, were half-formed, using clichés and atmospheric posturing and language to build a person, and one that wasn’t that intriguing.  Dropping the F bomb, clueless sexual encounters, misogynistic speech and a history of childhood abuse that is really never dealt with beyond sharing stories just doesn’t build a foundation for me, leaving me unconnected and uncaring about the characters, bored by the feelings of forced connection and emotion, and uncomfortable with the sex as it never felt more connected than the first random encounter.  I’d be interested in seeing the authors work independent of this collaboration to see if their styles and ideas bear fruit more tasty in solo work.

Hendrix: Caldwell Brothers #1 by Chelsea Camaron & M.J. Fields with Excerpt and Giveaway

Title: Hendrix
Author: Chelsea Camaron, M.J. Fields
Series: Caldwell Brothers #1
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Published by: Loveswept
ISBN: 1508788804
Published on: 6 March, 2015
Format:eARC
Source: Publisher via NetGalley
Pages: 216
Get Your Copy: Amazon Barnes&Noble iTunes Kobo Downpour
See this Title on Goodreads

“One bourbon, one shot, one night—that’s my world. Life is finally getting on track for me and my brothers. Things are far from perfect, but after removing the thorn from our sides, they damn sure are looking up.” –Hendrix Caldwell.

Hendrix Caldwell, the oldest of the Caldwell brothers, is the ever steady voice of reason out of the three Detroit—Rock City’s—wild boys. Focused, determined, and living with a chip on his shoulder, Hendrix is married to his bar, allowing no time for anything more than a casual hook up. Work hard, play harder—that is the Caldwell brothers’ way.
For Olivia Hemmingway, life is nothing except the school of hard knocks. Born as the consequence of a one night stand, Olivia didn’t have the childhood found in movies and books. However, she’s all grown up now and completely on her own. Drowning in debt, she is looking for a small break in life, but the hits just keep on coming.
One night, one charity event, two masks hiding them from the world and each other… Two people let go and share the best of each other in a luxury hotel’s storage closet for one night they both can’t forget. One night they both revisit in their dreams.

What happens when two worlds collide not once, but twice? When they find out who was behind the mask, will sparks fly, or will their past demons keep them apart?

See the Caldwell Brothers Series on GoodReads

A copy of this title was provided via Publisher via NetGalley for purpose of honest review. I was not compensated for this review: all conclusions are my own responsibility.

This book may be unsuitable for people under 18 years of age due to drug and alcohol use / violence and/or sexual content in a genre not specified as Erotic.

Header - Excerpt - Tasty

 

When you think of Motor City, you think of poverty, but what Detroit lacks in class and elegance, we make up for in dive bars. You got the 2-Way Inn on Mt. Elliott, Nancy Whiskey on Harrison, Old Miami on Cass, Greenwich Time in Cadillac Square, Kwicky on 8 Mile, Marshall’s on Jefferson, Jumbo’s on 3rd, the Painted Lady up in Hamtramck, My Dad’s Place on Kercheval, and Caldwell’s on Atwater.

You know the kind of places I’m talking about—windowless joints on the corner with the High Life sign blinking because you know the sign is as old as the paint-chipped building it hangs off. The blinking sign beckons you. You have to go inside to see what the hell is going on ’cause you can’t see in the windows, and it sounds like you may be missing something if you don’t.

They are boarded up tight, because they got busted out two nights ago when the place got robbed by the fucking thugs who walk up and down the streets, selling candy one minute and panhandling two hours later. The pieces of shit are inventive—I’ll give them that—but my suggestion is get a fucking job, slob.

Back in the day, when the auto factories dominated the area, things didn’t look so broken down. It was alive and kicking. The area was still peppered with bars. Bar owners were making mad cash, too.

At the end of every street, there was a joint that served ice-cold High Life on tap and two-dollar shots. There was entertainment and fun to be had everywhere. You could always get a decent, quick meal on your lunch break, a live show at night; and the bartenders made you feel like you belonged, like you were family.

My pops won the title to Hooligans at a dogfight. With it being a great location in the Rivertown district near Chene Park, he truly got a prize that time. He was instantly banking money and banging women. That’s when he met Mom.

She sang, played guitar, and had a decent following as a one-woman show. He was thirty, and she was twenty-two. She sang at his bar every Wednesday night and eventually tended bar three nights a week. Like many of his barmaids, she fell for his bullshit, and that ended up with her pregnant with me in less than two months from the time they met.

He moved her into his apartment above the bar and embraced becoming a father. He wanted to do it better than his old man had. Isn’t that the truth in life, just do it better? Don’t we all strive for that?

Eventually, the novelty wore off. He started fucking around on her. When she confronted him, he beat her down emotionally. She busted her ass keeping the bar clean, and he busted his ass drinking the profit. Two more boys later, and she was busting her ass to raise their three kids on top of keeping his business afloat.

When the economy in Detroit deteriorated, he lost what was left of his mind. He started coming after us for stupid shit like spilled milk, a LEGO on the floor, you name it. Hell, the wind blowing in the wrong direction had him on us.

Mom started stepping in with, “Boys, go to your room.”

Sure, we did as we were told, but we heard the shit. We heard him hitting her. It was no better than seeing it, either. We were helpless as the sounds of each blow became increasingly deafening to our tiny ears. Funny how, in the moment, adrenaline kicks in and instincts go into overdrive. Every noise becomes louder, clearer, and sticks with you longer. I can still hear that shit in my sleep.

As I grew older and stood taller than him, I began to step in. He and I would go at it, fist to fist, until one of us wasn’t moving. At first, it was me. Then, when I was seventeen, it was finally him. Fucker knew it, too.

I begged Mom to move out, but she refused to leave her home and family. She made excuses for him, said that was how he was raised.

He stopped coming at us when I busted his nose. I hated the bastard, and when Morrison was big enough, I moved the fuck out. Still saw Mom every day, though. I couldn’t go a day without seeing her or my brothers. I needed to make sure they were okay, but I also knew, if I stayed, I would kill him and be in the state pen within a year.

He lost Hooligans because the fucking asshole bet against the wrong underground fighter. Who was the fighter he bet against? My brother, his own son. Who did he lose it to? Me. Fucker didn’t even know it was me until a week later, either.

I let him stay in the apartment above the bar, not for him, but for Mom.

I had been working for a contractor, fixing up old warehouses and making them into apartments for years. Even made enough to buy my own place.

I fixed up the second and third floors, making them livable. Wide-open space, two bedrooms, two baths on the second floor, the third is my loft. The first floor is a badass garage. It is where I spend the rest of my money—on my tools, my toys, and my rides.

I roll over to find my pit bull, Floyd, is hogging the bed as usual. She—yes, Floyd is a she—is an obvious bed hog.

When I found her, she had on a pink, spiked collar that was digging into her neck. I squatted down and peeled it off the poor girl, and she let me. Then, she took off, and I followed her to an abandoned warehouse, walking into a fucking scene that makes my stomach churn to this day. Fucking dogfights.

My dad loves those godforsaken fights, while I despise them.

I called a cop friend I knew from high school while in an outside alley and then waited. When the fuckers running the circuit were taken in, along with the spectators, I watched the SPCA take the dogs. Floyd looked at me, I looked at her, and I knew she was mine.

“Floyd, seriously, bitch”—I laugh as she licks my face—“get down.”

 

 

 

Giveaway - Tasty
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

About Chelsea Camaron

USA Today bestselling author Chelsea Camaron grew up turning wrenches alongside her father, which just so happened to inspire her Love and Repair and The Hellions Ride series. When she’s not writing, you can find her playing with her kids, attending car shows, going on motorcycle rides on the back of her husband’s Harley, snuggling down with her new favorite book, or watching any movie that Vin Diesel might happen to be in. She lives in Louisiana with her husband and two children.

About M.J. Fields

MJ Fields is the USA Today bestselling author of the Love series, the Wrapped series, the Burning Souls series, the Men of Steel series, and the Norfolk series. A former small-business owner who recently became a full-time writer, Fields lives in central New York, surrounded by family and friends. Her house is full of pets, friends, and noise ninety percent of the time, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Leave a Reply

CommentLuv badge