Review: Stud by Kelly Siskind

 Title: Stud
Author: Kelly Siskind
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: January 31, 2018 

A down-to-earth carpenter. A Prada loving personal shopper. 
A Habitat for Humanity project that erects more than walls…
The word “nail” has so many meanings:

Ainsley Hall’s manicured nails belong in the Museum of Modern Art.
The fashionista hammers nails at Habitat for Humanity.
She desperately wants to nail Owen Phillips.

Unfortunately, she mistakenly thinks he’s gay.

Owen’s never-ending divorce has taken a turn from messy to downright vindictive. Yearning for the simpler things in life, like working with his hands, he joins a Habitat build. Turns out he also wants to work over Ainsley Hall…but the confusing bombshell flirts blatantly with other men.

When Ainsley discovers Owen’s true sexuality, their mutual attraction ignites, but he hasn’t shared the extent of his divorce drama. If he can’t disprove his ex’s false allegations, it will take more than hammers and nails (and nailing studs) to keep their walls from caving in.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ½
Note: This review is for an ARC and is my unbiased opinion.

Kelly Siskind is an author I can count on to bring me both laughs and feels. Her humorous dialog is amazing. So are all the crazy but easy to relate to situations she comes up with. The stuff she came up with for Stud was pretty awesome.

Ainsley was a woman people would guess to be shallow from looking at her from the outside. She wasn’t, though. Ainsley was an incredibly nice and smart woman who did right by those surrounding her. She wasn’t perfect, but her flaws made her even more attractive as the heroine of the story. I liked her immediately. A couple of my favorite things about her were her crossword puzzles, and how she looked up words and their meanings to use in certain situations.

Owen was a man trying to move on from a tricky divorce. All he wanted was peace…and a piece of Ainsley. Well, at first that was what he wanted. The more he got to know Ainsley, the more he realized they had in common.

Owen and Ainsley were a great match. They complimented each other so well. I liked how their relationship built. They connected over humor and sharing their experiences. The things they learned about each other were endearing. If they were a real life couple, I could imagine them going the distance.

I loved Owen and Ainsley, but I do have to admit that Emmett stole the show more than once. I wish that he had gotten his own book. I would love to read his and Cameron’s story!

Stud was a great addition to the One Wild Wish series. I love that it was part of this series, but so different from the first book. Ainsley was Rachel’s friend, but their stories didn’t mirror each other’s. Ainsley’s was entirely her own. They were also set in the same city, but in completely different setting and situations.

Overall, Stud was a fun romance with a deep connection. The romance was sweet and the dialog was filled with witty banter. I laughed and swooned so much. I highly recommend it to readers who enjoy romantic comedy.

Her gaze dipped down my body, slow and languid, soaking me in. Something in me twitched to life, like a phantom limb reminding me hot blood once pumped through my veins. All my veins. My groin got heavy, heat flushing my thighs. Because she looked at me.I let that notion marinate and did my best to keep my brain on target. “If you plan on volunteering, show up at the construction site at 8:30 a.m. sharp. Nick will take you through the paces.”

“Will you be here?”


“Are you here every day?”


“Do you often answer questions with one word?”


She tipped her head, those stunning eyes intent upon me. Suddenly, heading home for beers and pizza didn’t sound as appealing. I dug my boots deeper into the earth.

She swiped her tongue across her full bottom lip. “All right, tough guy. I’ll be here next week, volunteer ready, where you may or may not be, depending on if you do or do not decide to show up.”

Every word dripped with flirtatiousness, but I stayed quiet. The way I’d all but grunted at her so far, probably better to keep my mouth shut.

So we stood there—her waiting on me to speak, a skateboarder barreling down the road at our left. Me unsure why she was affecting me.

I missed being with a woman. Missed the slide of soft skin and wet mouths, and locking my girl in my arms for the night. But I’d sworn I’d do it right this time. Not rush in. Make sure I dated someone with depth and interests outside of making bank. Everything about this spitfire girl read narcissistic.

When our silence slipped into awkward, she fluttered her fingers in my face. “It’s been…interesting.”

I offered her a curt nod.

Chuckling to herself, she spun around, but her right heel wedged into the loose dirt. Those damn shoes were lethal. She sank an inch and teetered, but seemed to catch herself. Then her massive purse fell. The thick strap landed on her forearm, tipping the balance. She shot out her hand, struggling to stay upright.

I lunged for her, clasping her trim waist to hold her steady. And close. Too close. Not near enough for her to feel how I was thickening behind my zipper, but the air swelled. It dilated with feminine scents. Something sweet. Nice. 
She smelled like chocolate.

My hands spanned her waist from behind, her curves above and below all woman. Hour glass, like a modern-day Marilyn Monroe. Jean Harlow. Mae West. Over the years, I’d watched every classic movie there was, wishing I could slip to a time when men danced and women sang and loyalty and love were valued over getting ahead. An old soul, my nana always said. Or a romantic. Or just plain trouble.

Now I had my hands on a dangerous beauty.

A small-town girl at heart, Kelly moved from the city to open a cheese shop with her husband in northern Ontario. When she’s not neck deep in cheese or out hiking, you can find her, notepad in hand, scribbling down one of the many plot bunnies bouncing around in her head. She laughs at her own jokes and has been known to eat her feelings—gummy bears heal all. She’s also an incurable romantic, devouring romance novels into the wee hours of the morning.



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