A haunting, deep and bittersweet second chance romance that’ll grip you at every turn…

I’ve read a lot of Hollywood romance books that, to be honest, have failed to grip me. Yes, they excited me there and then, but they didn’t stick. I wasn’t sad after I’d finished, my thoughts weren’t stolen by them to the point it bordered on obsession… they were good reads that were enjoyed and shelved. So, I was a little apprehensive about this book. Steal is book #3 in the Seaside Pictures series and it tells the story Will Sutherland and Angelica Greene. This series is made of interconnected standalones, so (like me) you don’t have to have read the first two books, Capture and Keep, in order to enjoy this one. HOWEVER, I can guarantee that you will crave them before Steal ends. It’s a promise.

I absolutely LOVED Steal. It had me bawling and gripped within the first chapter and the more I read the more it engrained itself on my heart. Even though it’s filled with humour and incredibly hilarious moments and conversations it tells a rather sad and haunting story. The story itself is harrowing and at times has a dark and bitter edge that leaves you chained to the gates of hell. The topics addressed aren’t comfortable and cheery and will destroy you. But, the beauty of this book is that once it tares you down, it will build you back up. It’ll sweep up all your broken pieces and put you back together bit by bit. Van Dyken really did a number on me with Will and Ang’s story. I’ve come to expect certain reactions from her writing and her heart-wrenching plots, however, this took it all to a whole new level. She really did a number on me.

Character wise, she got it so so so very right. The cast for this book is nothing short of exceptional. Is there a friend group out there that has that many super duper uber HOT people in it? Is there? Really? I felt so spoilt for choice. The secondary characters are quite simply phenomenal, I mean Zane was insane and the two brothers, Alec and Demitri… F. M. L. Not to mention Lincoln and Jay… maaaaaan… Things may be getting a little wet just thinking of them. Surely it’s illegal to have so many sexy, hot, lickable… yummy men in one book? Christ.

Here’s the thing— I liked Will. I freaking LOVED Will. However, he was such a bellend at times. I was all starry eyed, swoony and probably drooling over him and then he went and pulled some stupid, insensitive stunt out of his butthole that made me hate him. He gave me motherfracking emotional whiplash. Don’t get me wrong, Angelica is no saint… obviously… but she’s trying to glue herself back together and keep it that way. I mean, give the glue a little time to dry before you rip the tape supporting it off, jeeeeez, give the girl a freaking chance!

I was so torn over these two. Their chemistry is off the charts, but at the same time their past holds so much volatility that you do wonder whether they should even get together. However, again, that is the beauty of this book. Their relationship isn’t instantly healed and their past isn’t miraculously erased by their feelings— no, there is an all out war between them and their demons. There’s none of that we’ll just jump in the sack together and your male bits and my girly bits will make it all better mentality. The struggle to heal themselves is so raw that there is no place for hanky panky in it. To me that’s what made this story so overwhelming. Although the chemistry and passion for great sex is there, it wasn’t the pièce de résistance. It wasn’t what made me need to turn those pages so quickly that my fingers struggled to keep up. That need was all induced by their personal need to fix themselves and their struggle at doing so. Don’t get me wrong, once they get to the horizontal tango… it was intense and scorching hot and consuming, but it’s what it represented that makes it so. Of course it helps that they are out of this world sizzling hot. I really need to find a synonym for that word.

I cannot wait for the next book. I am ready, more than ready for it. Ok, so I do have Capture and Keep to pacify me in the meantime, but the need is burning me up. Especially because of Andrew’s part in Steal. I want to get to know him… I hated him with a passion throughout the majority of this book, and then Ms Dyken pulled the rug from under me and I feel like I’m suspended somewhere mid-air waiting to crash land. Basically, I need his story to understand how things got so freaking messed up… you know what they say— there’s always three sides to every story…

About the Book

Steal, the follow-up standalone rockstar romance to the #1 NYT Bestseller Keep…

It’s easy to lose yourself in someone you love.

Easier to lose yourself in someone you hate…

I didn’t think it could get any worse than having to babysit a bunch of spoiled musicians on set — keeping them out of trouble is a cakewalk compared to seeing my ex every day.

Seaside, Oregon isn’t big enough for the both of us.

She hates me.

I loathe her.

The plan was simple — stay the hell away and make sure she gets to set on time.

What I didn’t expect was to be faced with our past in front of an audience — and be forced to face it again.

It’s torture.

The way she looks at me.

The way I try to look through her.

Words left unsaid.

The lingering aftermath still as powerful as ever.

I feed the chasm between us, for fear that she’ll make me feel again — and steal the last shred of heart I have left.

We have everything but each other.

It’s not enough.

Not when you’ve lost love.

And replaced it with the only thing left — hate.




I blinked up at the white ceiling, willing the tears to dry. Praying they wouldn’t slip free — because once they were loose there was no stopping the onslaught of emotion that would follow, the devastation, the earth-shattering realization that nothing would ever be the same between us. Not if he could help it — and not with me constantly pushing him.

But at least pushing him got me a reaction that proved he wasn’t a complete indifferent sociopath.

I refused to let him get to me.

With a sigh I turned onto my side and stared out the window imagining a different time a different place, where he was by my side — and promised to never leave.

That and the way his hands ran down my skin like he was getting ready to worship me the way he used to.

Only his face hadn’t been filled with wonder — disgust was more like it.

I clung to the anger like a blanket. It was the only way to sleep, the only way I was able to close my eyes and pray the sickness in my chest away.

Anger forced me to focus on doing my job and getting as far away from my past as possible.

Weakness would just make me sad.

It would make me that — weak;

And I knew where that road led.

It led me directly back to all the things that turned me down that road in the first place.

Not being good enough.

Pretty enough.

Funny enough.

Weakness led me to a false sense of strength.

And my number one weakness had always been Will Sutherland.

It was possible — to give so much of your heart and soul to a person that you lost who you were.

I became a different person with him — a person I thought I needed to be in order to compete in our world. A person our world told me I had no choice but to become in order to stay relevant.

I punched my pillow one last time and attempted to sleep.

Two hours later, when sleep still wouldn’t come, I padded my way into the kitchen and made coffee, then laid my head against the couch and thought about the way his lips felt on my ear.

Inches from my neck.

Breaths from my body.

I ached for him in ways I never knew existed.

And I relished in the ache just like I relished in the anger, because at least that meant it had happened, and at least that meant I knew he was a bad choice I wasn’t willing to make again.

A weakness that wouldn’t just hurt me.

But kill me.

Sometime around one in the morning when the clock on the microwave blinked at me with an intensity that started a pulsing headache to form — I stumbled over to the couch and face planted — the last thought in my head was of the Sutherland Sunset — and how it had once been my anchor until it turned into my hell.

What a joke.

What a cruel joke.

“You made coffee.” Will’s smooth voice interrupted what had been a completely dreamless sleep.

I didn’t have the energy to respond with anything other than a grunt.

“Still not a morning person,” he commented. His footsteps might as well be sledgehammers drilling into the wood floor.

“Why?” I croaked.

The walking stopped. Lights flicked on. I shivered and cursed him to Hell as he poked his head over the couch and had the audacity to smile. “Why what?”

My eyes narrowed. “Talking.”

“Why talking?” He took a sip out of the blue mug I’d been drinking out of earlier that morning; he must have reheated the coffee. “Still really eloquent in the morning I see.” Another annoying sip. The terrorist didn’t even offer me any! Just kept loudly sipping while staring at me with a stupid ass grin on his face like it was a joy to be awake at… wait, what time was it?

I jolted to a sitting position, my pounding headache still wasn’t gone, in fact it was worse, probably brought on by Will’s cheerful demeanor and loud walking. “What time is it?”

“You have twenty minutes until you’re expected on set.” His voice was calm behind me, warm. If I closed my eyes I could almost imagine his body was about to wrap around me like a blanket, I’d tuck my feet under my body and rest my head on his shoulder, we’d share a cup of coffee like we used to and watch the news before work.

It took us one date to become inseparable.

Our trailers side by side.


Finishing sentences.

Eating off each other’s plates.

Sharing inside jokes.

Not to mention, Will had been my first.

I shivered as his footsteps moved away from me taking his body right along with them.

That was the past.

It needed to stay there.

With a sigh, I shot up to my feet and started making my way back to my room.

I only made it about one foot before Will started cursing.

Panicked, I froze and then turned around. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes narrowed over the rim of the blue cup, “I’m just trying to decide if you’re doing it on purpose.”

“Doing what?” Okay now I was getting annoyed. And the man wouldn’t stop slurping his coffee as though he didn’t know how to sip like a grown up!

He shrugged one of his shoulders. “Wearing no clothes.”

About the Series

#1 Capture

Losing your ability to speak at the age of seventeen; it’s not normal or fair.
But trauma, has a way of throwing normality out the window.

Dani lives anything but a normal life.
Her sister is married to one of the biggest names in Hollywood.
Her best friends are rockstar duo AD2.
And she has more love around her than most people experience in a lifetime.
But that doesn’t change the fact their parents are dead.
Or that it’s her fault.

It seems her new normal is being a mute, living on the inside, unable to actually communicate on the outside.
That is until Hollywood’s newest heartthrob Lincoln Greene hires her as his assistant for the summer.
He’s gorgeous, completely unavailable, and unobtainable.
But that doesn’t stop her from wondering…if things were different…would he want her?
If she was whole, would he be the other half?



#2 Keep

My name’s shouted on rooftops. 
It’s written on bras, bathroom stalls, hell my name is everywhere. To say my name is to experience an orgasm without ever leaving your house. 
My name? 
Zane “Saint” Andrews. 
I’m sex. 
I’m a rock god. 
I’m also a virgin. 
What they don’t know won’t kill them right? Give the people what they want. And what they want is the idea of me; the pleasure they gain at listening to my song and knowing without a doubt I’m talking about them and only them.
It worked for a while. 
Until a nerdy girl with glasses falls at my feet, literally, and suddenly I don’t want to be Saint anymore, what I want? What I really need? 
Is to be kept. 
By her.


About the Author

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances.

When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers!


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Marta Aguiar
Written by Marta Aguiar
I'm a mid twenties mummy living in North London, a graduate in English literature and creative writing from the university of Aberyswyth in Wales. I love to bake, cook, read and watch films, and love spending time with my little toddler, Jasper, and our new addition, Mylo. I blog about our family life and my general interests, with the odd guest blog from my partner, Kayne.