Tattoos have always held an appeal for me.... there is something attractive in inking your body and expressing your sentiments through drawings. Anyone who feels the same should most definitely read this book. I mean really. Really, really. Really, really, really. Did I get my point across? I certainly hope so.
Ink My Heart by Jean Haus
Even if he weren't the lead singer of the popular college band, Luminescent Juliet, Justin Noel would have his pick of women. And he does pick. Nightly. Tattooed, blonde, and green eyed, he flashes his dimples and females swoon.
Except for one.
Tattoo artist, Allie Landon, rarely dates, and especially not men like Justin. Though he’s hot enough to melt off permanent ink, she’s done with the bad boy type. But when the ex who broke her heart wants to reunite, desperation has Allie introducing her latest client as her boyfriend. Justin’s more than happy to play the part. He’s completely intrigued by the sexy artist and college student.
However, Allie’s life isn't what it seems. There’s little room in it or her shattered and confused heart for Justin. But as Justin remains persistent, ignoring the growing attraction—both physical and emotionally—between them becomes more difficult than tattoo removal.
*New Adult. Recommended for mature readers due to language, drug references, and sexual situations.
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About the Author
Jean Haus writes young adult and romance novels. She reads a lot too. Anything with a bit of romance has the possibility of being loaded on her Kindle. She even does a bit of cooking, which is actually quite good. She also golfs in the beautiful summers of Michigan with her awesome husband and son, but she cooks way, way better than she golfs.
Allie’s lips tighten. “Things went fine. I sort of freaked out over nothing.” She steps forward with others in the line, and I’m staring at her back. When she readjusts her bag and her sweater shifts, I catch half of the sunflower tattoo on the base of her neck. The colors are vibrant. Her skin looks soft. I’d like to kiss the yellow and brown ink. Slide my lips around the dark outline of the flower.
I lean close to her ear and ask in a whisper, “Also inspired by the ear slicer’s work?”
She slowly turns to me with a pensive expression. “Are you guessing or do you truly recognize it?”
As if I’m not trying to impress her, I shrug. “I’ve seen the painting.”
Her gray eyes widen for real this time. “Get out. Where?”
“London? Paris? New York? Those museums all seem the same inside.”
She blinks at me with an amazed expression. “London and New York, yes, but the paintings at each are actually a bit different. But you’ve been to Paris too?”
I was trying to impress her with my knowledge of art, not my travels, which weren’t impressive but lonely. They were never family trips. My parents did their thing. I did mine. How else would I have wandered into an art museum? My parents certainly weren’t interested. But if she’s impressed, I’ll roll with it.
“And Rome. I’ll never forget Rome.”
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