Release Day Review: Fury by Cat Porter

Afbeeldingsresultaat voor Fury by Cat Porter

I still have the dreams, baby. Do you?
In mine, I plead and wait for your touch to come like it always did.
But it never does.
I strain against the iron, but you’re no longer there in the shadows. 
I’m alone.
One single shard of deep dark hope was enough back then.
Not now.
My claws, your fangs have sunk deep.
Follow my trail of blood,
my trail of anger, desolation.
Am I the same man?
Soul dark,
Heart dense,
Blood fierce,
Purpose raw.
Flame burning.
Brewed on vengeance,
laced with tenderness,
my fury for you.

Chained in brutal darkness, they fell in love. Free in the world, they were torn apart. Empires rise, empires fall, and still, she burns in his soul. But between them now runs a wild river of ambition, greed, and blood. So much blood. He’ll do anything for revenge, and she’ll do anything to protect him. Love and vengeance are the same kind of savage...





I was born, but not raised.
I erupted.
I am the weed that grew in the distance fed by rainwater whenever the skies deigned to yield it, sharpened by brisk winds, hardened and spiked by icy cold. Hued by occasional kindnesses, the heat of the sun’s glare.
No, I was forged the day I met Serena. A blade sharpened, a gun barrel loaded, a fuse lit.
My track was laid over her rocky earth, and it only made my soul darker, my heart denser, my blood fiercer, my purpose raw.
With her I was everything I’d never known before. Not helpless, not exposed. Not powerless.
And even through all these years without her and all that I’ve achieved in the world, I’ve been nothing but an open hand grenade, idling, ready to detonate.
Now, having broken into her house, standing here in her bedroom, selfishly stealing the air she breathes as she sleeps, that idling is over.
Her sleep is fitful. She murmurs words, she scowls and twists the sheets in a fist the same way I do.
I still have the dreams, too, baby. 
“Touch me. I need you to—” I’d once pleaded with her in the dark.
In my dreams I plead and I wait for that touch to come, like it once had. But it never does. I strain against the iron, but she’s not there. I’m alone. That dream used to come more frequently, regularly. Each nightmare was a visitation reinforcing my passion for her, my passion to love her, to hate her. Each morning, my resolve would be screwed on tight once more, an unyielding cap on an ancient bottle.
This morning, before the dawn had even broken on this brand new day, that resolve was stronger than ever, but my purpose has changed.
I want her back.
I hope she dreams of me. I hope her dreams are as tangled and snarled as mine. The cut of the blade, the sting of her mouth remain fresh. They’ve inspired me, demented me.
 All the jagged pieces of our hearts, be they sharp, be they blunt, red or black or gray, are indiscernible now. Me and her, we’re in pieces, shards, but we aren’t broken. She had given up, let go, and so had I. But standing here, inches away from her, I know deep, deep inside I hadn’t, not ever.
Not essentially.
I run a thumb over her full, soft lips, and they part under my touch. A slight intake of breath passes between them, warming my skin. Beautiful lips that were once mine. Lips that once shared words and thoughts and hopes with me, the good kind. Lips that shared fears and horrors. Lips that offered a violent heaven.
I want to take those lips now, possess them, but I stop myself. I need her to give them to me willingly.
And she will.
My finger grazes the tip of her nose. Her eyes dance under her lids, blinking open.
Blue green glory.
My heart settles in my chest and kicks to life all at once, and I know nothing has changed.
Soul dark,
Heart dense, 
Blood fierce, 
Purpose raw.
I’m a quiet man, observant, introverted, not given to dramatic declarations. But here I stand, feeling that agony, that swell of emotion that only she invokes in me, all of it wiping away the ugly I’ve been clinging to all this time; the remote wilderness where I dwell.
Those eyes hang on mine, and I see her reflection in all the shards of me. She is at the crux. She is the flame. My fever, my fury.
Let it roar.

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Afbeeldingsresultaat voor 4.5 black stars
**ARC provided in exchange for an honest review**

"He'd lain his heart and soul in my hands, and I would keep them safe. I would never let them go. Ever."

I love Biker/MC romances, however lately I haven't found any that keeps me interested long enough. When I read the blurb of Fury, I was intrigued but didn't really know what to expect. I have read a book by this author before, and really enjoyed it, so I wanted to give this one a go as well. My first thoughts when I started reading were "OMG this book is LONG!" and "I hope it keeps me interested throughout the book.". I usually am hesitant with long books, because I lose interest pretty quickly. So the story needed to be really good for me to hang on until the end. After a couple of chapters I realized that this book was the type of Biker romance I was looking for. I was hooked and I could already tell that Serena and Finger's story would be long and full of heartbreak. 

"His passion for you is some kind of fury. A fury whose fangs and claws have sunk deep. A fury that won't let go. A damn tidal wave of love, anger, pain, desolation. A tidal wave that won't quit. And he tortures himself with it."

Fury definitely wasn't always easy to read. It was dark, painful, sad, and I couldn't get enough. The love between Finger and Serena was beautiful but also impossible in many ways. There was just so many obstacles between them. It was a journey for me to see if they could overcome them. My heart broke for them so many times. I shed tears a couple of times as well. Main reason I didn't rate it 5 stars was because of Serena, I didn't agree with a couple of decisions she made. I was rooting for Finger more than I was for her. I felt more of a connection with him, and really wanted him to get his HEA, and there were moments I didn't care if it was with Serena or someone else, because of the way Serena broke his heart. However after thinking more clearly (after a good night of sleep), I understand why she did the things she did. I love that she put others first but I just wanted her to be more honest. 

I highly recommend this book. It was a sexy (super hot sex scenes guys!!), beautiful, emotional, heartbreaking second chance romance book. It was also full of action, and you really see what goes on in a MC. It was sometimes VERY brutal and bloody, but that was a part of it. I was hooked from start 'til end. This book has reacquainted me with Cat's amazing writing and I'll definitely go back and read her other books. 

Afbeeldingsresultaat voor symbol break text


CAT PORTER was born and raised in New York City, but also spent a few years in Europe and Texas along the way, which made her just as wanderlusty as her parents. As an introverted, only child, she had very big, but very secret dreams for herself. She graduated from Vassar College, was a struggling actress, an art gallery girl, special events planner, freelance writer, restaurant hostess and had all sorts of other crazy jobs all hours of the day and night to help make her dreams come true. She has two children’s books traditionally published under her maiden name. She now lives on a beach just outside of Athens, Greece with her husband and three children, and freaks out regularly and still daydreams way too much, and doesn’t give as much of AF. She is addicted to the History Channel, her iPhone, her husband’s homemade red wine, coffee, and a bunch of other stuff she’d rather not discuss. Writing keeps her somewhat sane, extremely happy, and a productive member of society. At least on the outside.

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