Playing Catch Up has really been helping me through my ever growing TBR list. I'd like to welcome all other blogs to participate too! If you do, be sure to post your links in the comments section. I'd love to see your Playing Catch Up Reviews, and I'm sure others would too!! *wink*
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Genre: New Adult (Contemporary Romance)
Date Published: March 29, 2016
Publisher: Harlequin Teen
Smart. Responsible. That's seventeen-year-old Breanna's role in her large family, and heaven forbid she put a toe out of line. Until one night of shockingly un-Breanna-like behavior puts her into a vicious cyber-bully's line of fire—and brings fellow senior Thomas "Razor" Turner into her life.
Razor lives for the Reign of Terror motorcycle club, and good girls like Breanna just don't belong. But when he learns she's being blackmailed over a compromising picture of the two of them—a picture that turns one unexpected and beautiful moment into ugliness—he knows it's time to step outside the rules.
And so they make a pact: he'll help her track down her blackmailer, and in return she'll help him seek answers to the mystery that's haunted him—one that not even his club brothers have been willing to discuss. But the more time they spend together, the more their feelings grow. And suddenly they're both walking the edge of discovering who they really are, what they want, and where they're going from here.
Razor lives for the Reign of Terror motorcycle club, and good girls like Breanna just don't belong. But when he learns she's being blackmailed over a compromising picture of the two of them—a picture that turns one unexpected and beautiful moment into ugliness—he knows it's time to step outside the rules.
And so they make a pact: he'll help her track down her blackmailer, and in return she'll help him seek answers to the mystery that's haunted him—one that not even his club brothers have been willing to discuss. But the more time they spend together, the more their feelings grow. And suddenly they're both walking the edge of discovering who they really are, what they want, and where they're going from here.
Walk the Edge is the second book in the Thunder Road series by Katie McGarry. This is Razor and Breanna's story. Breanna is smart. I mean super smart, and she's never felt like she fit in anywhere. Not even with her family. Razor doesn't trust the Reign of Terror. They haven't told him everything involving the death of his mother, so, naturally this causes him to doubt them. Yet, they insist that he trust them anyway. That wouldn't be a possible thing for anyone. Together, Breanna and Razor form a partnership of sorts. It's funny, because with the first book, I didn't like the Reign of Terror in the beginning, then they grew on me. By the end, they won me over. I followed the same pattern in this book too. There are just so many mysteries and secrets the Reign of Terror keeps from one another. Wouldn't it be easier if they were up front with those they love from the start? Hmm. Despite that, Breanna and Razor are completely lovable. Both of these characters were fully fleshed out, and I got completely lost in their lives. Their emotions were raw, and the romance was steamy, but not overboard. It's a rare second book that is better than the first in a series, but this one definitely is, in my opinion. And, I liked the first book quite a bit. So, that's saying something. I can't wait to get my hands on the next book!
There are certain common-sense rules all girls in town comprehend. It's not knowledge that has to be taught. In fact, sitting here on the top step to the entrance of my high school and watching this potential disaster unfold, I search my memory for the first person who mentioned I should stay clear of the Reign of Terror Motorcycle Club.
Because when it pertains to the threat that is the Reign of Terror MC, it's not learned, it's known. Like how an infant understands how to suck in a breath at the moment of birth or how a newborn foal wobbles to his legs. It's instinctual. It's ingrained. It's fact.
"Do you think his motorcycle will work this time?" Addison asks.
"Hope so," I breathe out, too terrified to speak at a normal level out of fear that we'll draw the scrutiny of the men wearing black leather vests circling the broken-down bike. Reign of Terror arches over the top of the black vest; in the middle is a half skull with far too much fire in and around it. It's ominous and I shiver.
It's edging toward nine in the evening, but the August sun hasn't completely set. Darkness, though, has claimed most of the sky. Temperatures during the afternoon hit over a hundred and I swear the concrete stairs and pillar absorbed every ounce of today's sunshine and are now transferring the heat onto my body.
Sweat rolls down my back and I shift to peel my thighs off the step. Why I thought it was a fantastic idea to wear a jean skirt, I have no idea.
I take that back. I do have an idea. Tonight is the first time my entire grade has been together in one room since the end of last year. My goal for the year may seem simple to some, but to me, it sometimes feels impossible. I'd like to be seen, to be known as something more than "freakishly smart Breanna Miller" at least once before I leave this town. I'd like to somehow find the courage to be on the outside who I am on the inside.
An annoying sixth sense informs me that I'm about to make a huge impression—on the evening news. Two friends on the verge of starting their senior year vanish without a trace. Because that's how motorcycle clubs would handle this—they'll kidnap us and then hide our bodies after they're finished with whatever ritual act they'll use us to perform.
One of the gang members stands from his crouched position at the motorcycle and the guy we attend school with inserts a key and holds on to the handlebar of the bike. As he twists it, I pray the motor will purr to life.
My heart leaps, then plummets past my toes and into the ground when the motorcycle cuts off with a sound similar to a gunshot. Addison's head falls forward, and I bite my lip to prevent the internal screaming from becoming external chaos.
Addison pulls her phone out of her purse and taps the screen. "I'm texting Reagan. If we go missing, I'm telling her to point the finger at Thomas Turner and his band of Merry Men."
Thomas Turner. He's the guy that swore loudly the moment his motorcycle's engine died again. Thomas is the name called on the first day of school by our teachers, but it's not the name he responds to. He goes by his "road name," Razor.
He glances over his shoulder straight at me and my mouth dries out. Holy hell, it's like he's aware I'm thinking of him.
"Oh my God," Addison reprimands. "Don't make eye contact. Do you want them to come over?"
I immediately focus on my sandals. As much as every girl knows to keep a safe distance from Thomas and his crew, we've all snuck a glimpse. Thomas makes it easy to cave to temptation with his golden blond hair and muscles from head to toe, and he owns this sexy brooding expression a few girls have written about in poems.
My cheeks burn and there's this heaviness as if Thomas is still looking. Through lowered lashes, I peek at him and my heart trips when our eyes meet. His eyes are blue. An icy blue. His stare causes me to be simultaneously curious and terrified. And I obviously have a death wish because I can't tear my gaze away…
Because when it pertains to the threat that is the Reign of Terror MC, it's not learned, it's known. Like how an infant understands how to suck in a breath at the moment of birth or how a newborn foal wobbles to his legs. It's instinctual. It's ingrained. It's fact.
"Do you think his motorcycle will work this time?" Addison asks.
"Hope so," I breathe out, too terrified to speak at a normal level out of fear that we'll draw the scrutiny of the men wearing black leather vests circling the broken-down bike. Reign of Terror arches over the top of the black vest; in the middle is a half skull with far too much fire in and around it. It's ominous and I shiver.
It's edging toward nine in the evening, but the August sun hasn't completely set. Darkness, though, has claimed most of the sky. Temperatures during the afternoon hit over a hundred and I swear the concrete stairs and pillar absorbed every ounce of today's sunshine and are now transferring the heat onto my body.
Sweat rolls down my back and I shift to peel my thighs off the step. Why I thought it was a fantastic idea to wear a jean skirt, I have no idea.
I take that back. I do have an idea. Tonight is the first time my entire grade has been together in one room since the end of last year. My goal for the year may seem simple to some, but to me, it sometimes feels impossible. I'd like to be seen, to be known as something more than "freakishly smart Breanna Miller" at least once before I leave this town. I'd like to somehow find the courage to be on the outside who I am on the inside.
An annoying sixth sense informs me that I'm about to make a huge impression—on the evening news. Two friends on the verge of starting their senior year vanish without a trace. Because that's how motorcycle clubs would handle this—they'll kidnap us and then hide our bodies after they're finished with whatever ritual act they'll use us to perform.
One of the gang members stands from his crouched position at the motorcycle and the guy we attend school with inserts a key and holds on to the handlebar of the bike. As he twists it, I pray the motor will purr to life.
My heart leaps, then plummets past my toes and into the ground when the motorcycle cuts off with a sound similar to a gunshot. Addison's head falls forward, and I bite my lip to prevent the internal screaming from becoming external chaos.
Addison pulls her phone out of her purse and taps the screen. "I'm texting Reagan. If we go missing, I'm telling her to point the finger at Thomas Turner and his band of Merry Men."
Thomas Turner. He's the guy that swore loudly the moment his motorcycle's engine died again. Thomas is the name called on the first day of school by our teachers, but it's not the name he responds to. He goes by his "road name," Razor.
He glances over his shoulder straight at me and my mouth dries out. Holy hell, it's like he's aware I'm thinking of him.
"Oh my God," Addison reprimands. "Don't make eye contact. Do you want them to come over?"
I immediately focus on my sandals. As much as every girl knows to keep a safe distance from Thomas and his crew, we've all snuck a glimpse. Thomas makes it easy to cave to temptation with his golden blond hair and muscles from head to toe, and he owns this sexy brooding expression a few girls have written about in poems.
My cheeks burn and there's this heaviness as if Thomas is still looking. Through lowered lashes, I peek at him and my heart trips when our eyes meet. His eyes are blue. An icy blue. His stare causes me to be simultaneously curious and terrified. And I obviously have a death wish because I can't tear my gaze away…
Have you read the first book yet?
To learn more about Katie McGarry and her books, visit her website.You can also find her on Goodreads, Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and Twitter.
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