Book Review: Carter Reed


Carter Reed is a novel written by Tijan, and it is SUPER MEGA LEGIT!



Emma decided to skip the gym and went home early. It was the last easy decision
she made because she found her roommate being raped by the boyfriend. She had
two choices. Call the cops and be killed by his family’s mafia connections or
kill him first and hope to survive. There was no choice to her. She killed the
bastard first and went to the one person who could protect her. Carter Reed.
He’s a weapon for the rivaling mafia family, but he’s also Emma’s secret. Not
only was he best friends with her brother, but she’s the reason he became that
weapon in the first place.


Now, I’ll be the first to admit that this novel really isn’t for the faint-hearted. Not because its bad, but because it really delves into the mafia and mob stuff. On the other hand, this book is freaking fantastic! For those of you who are looking for a romance book with a bite, this is definitely the book for you! 

This novel has everything; a hot, strong alpha male and an equally strong minded women. They go well together, even though at the beginning it was a little tense. But then again, killing a man and moving into your dead brother’s best friend’s house, who just happens to be called the Cold Killer and extensively connected to the mafia and mob, to ensure the safety of your friends may be a little stressful.

I thoroughly enjoyed this simply because it wasn’t like most YA romance. Most YA romance novels are all about love at first sight, strong males, weak women, and having the men do all the protecting and dangerous stuff. But not in Carter Reed. Besides, a mafia lord would need a strong female, and no other will do except for Emma, the girl he would destroy the world for. Carter Reed would do anything for the women he loves, and he proves it over and over again. Keeping her safe her whole life, even when he wasn’t in it. He became what he is just to keep her alive, so when she arrives at his club a crying mess, dirtied and about to fall over, she is whisked to his penthouse. Someone has hurt his strong, brave women, and he will destroy the tenfold for it.



When we got there, he let go, but I took his hand again and led him into the bathroom. His face had been battered from the beatings. There was dried blood over him, in his hair as well, and he stood there watching as I inspected every wound. He winced as I probed his ribs, so instead of having him lift his shirt over, I took a firm hold at the top and ripped it. It fell to the floor. My eyes took it all in. His chest and ribs had taken the brunt of the kicks, at least the ones I saw. The tips of my fingers softly grazed over him, and he hissed from the pain. My eyes caught his. I saw the pain and took a deep breath. Strength surged inside of me. He needed mine so I pointed to the counter and murmured, “Sit.” My voice came out hoarse, and I bit down on my lip. Pain sliced me when he made a motion to vomit. When he didn’t, I let out the breath I’d been holding and warmed some washcloths. Pressing it to the cut on his nose, the washcloth immediately turned red from the blood. He hissed some more when I continued to his swollen cheek, then his swollen eye. “You should see a doctor.” He nodded, closing his one eye. Slowly, he leaned forward and rested his forehead on my shoulder. His lips moved against my skin as he answered, “I had to see you first. “My hand lifted to cradle the back of his head. I drew another deep breath in and rested my head against his. My eyes closed. I felt his pain and I hated it. He shouldn’t have been hurting, but I knew he put himself in that situation for a reason. So many questions flew in my head, but I refrained from asking. My fingers began to massage the back of his head, delicately at first and they grew stronger when he didn’t grimace or flinch away. Instead, his hand moved to the small of my back and he pressed me tighter against him. As I kept massaging, he grew more and more tired. His weight leaned on top of me until all of it was there. He had fallen asleep. I was holding him up and I stood there. I continued holding him. I would’ve stood there for hours, standing for him but a small movement caught my eye and I looked up. Amanda had a hand to her mouth. She watched from the doorway. As she did, a lone tear slipped down. Then she mouthed, “He’s asleep?”



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