Okay, first of all, does Devney Perry write bad stories? Also, have I asked this before? I think of this series Stone Princess is by far my favorite, and I say this with having an overwhelming (insert eye roll) sense of being entirely over movie star books. Luckily Devney is amazeballs, and I need not have worried about the movie star aspect of this book; it’s minimal compared to the captivating storyline.
Okay, okay on with the book. So, Stone Princess is the third book in the Tin Gypsy series about Presley, the blonde pixie sprite that works at Dash’s garage. Her hero? Shaw, the mega alpha movie star in town to film. If you haven’t read this series, I’m going to leave it there because I don’t want to give EVERYTHING away.
What I can tell you is, Devney does what she probably does better than anyone else. She gives us a great story, and right when you feel like okay, this can’t be it; she hits us with something we didn’t see coming. Then she makes our hearts ache, hits us with some more WTF was that and then brings it all together to that ah-ha moment and suddenly you’re in love.
Presley and Shaw were two beautiful characters that I was fully invested in from beginning to end. I LOVED that Presley didn’t let Shaw off the hook. It was just so good. I feel like I can never recommend Deveny’s book highly enough, and Stone Princess is no different.
Humiliated and angry, she hides from the world in the mundane routine of her life. Working at the Clifton Forge Garage isn’t glamorous, but it’s safe from the spotlight.
At least it was, until Shaw Valance comes to town.
The notorious Hollywood actor is starring in a movie based on the town’s infamous murder. When he’s not on set, Shaw hovers at the garage, watching as they build his custom motorcycle and irritating her with his handsome smile. He was supposed to leave once filming wrapped and go back to his fancy life, not buy the house next door.
But Shaw might regret that purchase once Presley’s ex-fiancé returns, bringing with him a war between old rivals that could burn both their houses down.
My realtor would have earned a higher commission if she had mentioned that the woman who lived next door was Presley Marks. “Isn’t this a surprise?”
“Is it?” Presley asked, frowning as I descended my steps and crossed the lawn, meeting her in her driveway. She raised a dark blond eyebrow. “Because it sort of feels like stalking.”
I chuckled. “I swear I had no idea you lived next door.”
But what a bonus. I wouldn’t have to make excuses to stop by the garage to see her. She could tear that insurance waiver to shreds. Presley had to know I didn’t give a damn about that bike they were building for me.
“You bought this house?”
“Yeah.” I reached for the grocery bags she had in her hands. “Here, let me help.”
She twisted away. “I’ve got them.”
“Come on.” I stepped forward and she took a step back. Wait, did she really think I was stalking her? “I’m just trying to help. I mean, I’ll probably start writing down your daily schedule so I can make sure our paths cross at least once a day. But that’s normal, right? For stalkers?”
“Are you being funny?”
My smile flattened. “I guess not.”