PERVERSION, book one in the Perversion Trilogy from USA Today bestselling author T.M. Frazier is available now!
Love is supposed to be a fairy tale.
Ours is a death wish.
I'm the executioner for the Bedlam Brotherhood.
She's a con artist working for my greatest enemy.
I use her.
She manipulates me.
We find ourselves on opposite sides of a bloody war.
My heart and head tell me I have to stay away.
My lust for her doesn't give a sh*t.
Nothing's fair in love and gang war.
PERVERSION IS BOOK ONE IN THE PERVERSION TRILOGY
BOOK TWO: POSSESSION
BOOK THREE: PERMISSION
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Excerpt:
Emma Jean
When I was younger, I fell in love with
magic. I learned every card trick there was from library books and unmasking
magic TV specials. I used to put on shows for Gabby that included escaping from
complicated knots and trick handcuffs. But what’s magic besides a sleight of
hand?
It’s a lie.
And lying is what I’m damn good at.
My ability to spin a tall tale or two
lead to stealing wallets and conning people into taking stray pets for the
thrill of it. Now, I’m using it to earn for Marco. The thrill is there, but
it’s muted, hindered, lost under his pile of mounting threats.
The inside of the casino smells like
stale cigarettes, spilled beer, and burnt coffee. We’re not supposed to be in
here. It’s Bedlam territory. But that’s also why it’s perfect.
It isn’t like anyone would recognize us
here.
We’ve made friends with a few of the
cocktail waitresses by giving them a small cut, and they don’t ask questions or
ring any alarms when they see us working. I’ve also been straightening my hair
over the last few years since my crazy curls stand out like a reflector on a
dark highway. I’ve dyed it a few shades darker than my normal honey blonde to
help blend in.
Tonight is starting off well. Gabby and
I are working a con we’ve run a few times before.
Gabby walks away, her long dark hair
swooshing behind her. She gives me a nod as she passes me by on the slot
machine I’m pretending to play. She’s just faked losing an expensive engagement
ring at another slot machine. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she
frantically looked around for it, then loudly announced a thousand-dollar
reward would be waiting at the casino cage for whoever returned it.
She is flawless. She should be an
actress. And in another life, she would be.
But we don’t live in another life.
We live in Lacking and belong to Los
Muertos.
Our lives are not our own.
A few people casually look around the
area, then return to their machines when they don’t find the ring Gabby was
ranting about. They won’t either. Because it’s not there.
Yet.
It's go time.
I strut over to the area Gabby just left
and put a dollar in the machine. While the wheels spin, I pretend to pick up
the dime store ring I already have in my hand. By the time the machine dings to
tell me I’ve lost my dollar, I’m turning the ring over, inspecting it like I
don’t have half a dozen more just like it in my drawer back at the apartment.
“Would you look at that?” I mutter to
myself loud enough so others around me can hear.
A man in an Adidas jumpsuit with a
potbelly taps me on the shoulder. “I’ll take that. I saw the woman who dropped
it. I’ll go return it to her.”
Liar.
You just want the reward.
“That’s so nice of you,” I say. I hold
it out, about to drop it into his hand when I pull it back. “I bet there’s a
reward for something this valuable.” I start to walk around the man. “I’ll take
it up to management. Maybe, they know…”
“Here,” the man says, holding up a
hundred-dollar bill. “Take this. I’ll take it to her. I just…you know, as I
said, I want to make sure it gets back to the right person.”
You’re
not even a good liar.
Sometimes, it’s just too freaking easy.
And this scam wasn’t even an Emma Jean and Gabby original. We saw it a long
time ago in a movie starring Jennifer Love Hewitt. Doesn’t anyone else watch
movies?
I shrug and pass him the ring. Plucking
the bill from his hand, I tuck it into my bra. “Thanks,” I say before quickly
making my way toward the large glass front doors. It’s Thursday. Marco’s money
is due in two days, and we’re short this week.
Really short.
I walk slowly and wave goodbye to the
valets with a smile on my face. “Any luck, tonight?” One asks me.
“I think so,” I answer with a smile.
Once I’m down the sidewalk and out of view, I scramble to the side of the
casino where I kick off my heels and change from the sequined dress I’d stolen
from a dry-cleaner into a pair of cut-off shorts and my yellow Keds.
Now, all I have to do is wait for
Gabby.
I don’t have to wait long.
“Run!” Gabby yells, darting from the
doors of the casino with two large men wearing tight black security t-shirts
close behind. Running from security is terrifying enough, knowing that we’re
running from members of the Bedlam Brotherhood kicks it up a notch.
I grab my backpack and sling it across
my shoulders. I move as fast as I can until I’m running right alongside her. We
race through the gates, cross the street, narrowly avoiding being hit by two
cars. We duck into a hole in a fence and run through one backyard after the
other.
“One of those cunt waitresses must have
tipped them off!” Gabby says, through shallow breaths. She’s barefoot in a
black mini-dress hiked up to her ass to give her long legs room to run. Her
long thick hair is wrapped around her face, sticking to her mouth.
We hit the sixth backyard. Without
another word, we separate behind a clothesline. We’ve mapped out this escape
plan a thousand times, but this is the first time we’ve ever had to use it.
When I make it into the central part of
town, to the Los Muertos/Bedlam border, I can no longer hear the shouts of the
security guards. I lost them.
Hopefully, Gabby did, too.
I use a tower of stacked-up wooden
pallets on the sidewalk like a ladder to scale a concrete wall, then drop down
into the alley.
I grow more panic-stricken the longer I
wait for Gabby. I bite the inside of my lip, pacing back and forth along the
high wall. The Bedlam Brotherhood runs the security at the casino. If they
catch her and find out who she is? Or worse? Who her brother is? They'll... I
shake the thought from my mind. She’ll be fine.
She HAS to be fine.
Please
be okay, Gabby. Please.
I’m trying to catch my breath and pull
myself together when I hear a clink echo through the alley as if someone
dropped some spare change, followed by the sound of something heavy dropping to
the asphalt.
“Gabby?” I ask into the darkness.
Thinking it’s her, relief washes over me like rain on a barren desert.
My only answer is the flickering of a
fluorescent light mounted high on the roof’s edge of the adjoining building.
And the hiss of what sounds like a cat behind a dumpster.
I walk over and peer around it. “Gabby? Are you hurt? Say something!” I
whisper-shout.
Someone moves from within the
shadow. “Get out here, Gabby. We’ve got
to go before Mar…”
The light flickers again, for just a
second. That second is all I need to see that the someone slowly stalking
toward me is not Gabby.
It’s a man…twice my size.
“Who are you?” I ask, shuffling backward
as the man cloaked in a black leather hood emerges from the shadows. The front
of his jacket is open. Underneath, he's shirtless, covered in a sheen of sweat,
and more tattoos than visible skin all the way up the front of his throat. His
muscled chest and abs flex with each step he takes. The hood shadows most of
his face, but when the lights flicker again, yellow eyes glow from within.
And they’re locked on me.
My ‘save your ass’ mode kicks in.
The man is blocking the only exit. My
only other chance of escape is to scale the same wall I used to drop into the
alley.
I keep moving backward as he approaches
until my back hits the wall. I look left and right for something to use to
climb on.
There’s nothing but emptiness.
My stomach sinks, but surrender is not
an option.
I swallow hard as the alarm bells scream
in my head for me to run. Somewhere. Anywhere.
There’s nowhere to go!
My legs tremble. Fear crawls like a
million spiders along the backs of my legs. I push myself further against the
wall as if I can squish the feeling away, but it’s useless.
Fear consumes me. Swallows me whole.
He continues toward me. As he gets
closer, I realize it’s not just sweat glistening on his skin. There’s something
else splattered across the tattoos on his chest and on his stubbled jaw.
It almost looks like wet paint.
My breathing stops when he’s close
enough that I can make out the tattoo on the front of his throat.
A bleeding black rose.
The symbol of the Bedlam Brotherhood.
I’ve heard stories about Grim. The man
in the hood. The executioner for Bedlam. They were all terrifying, but not
nearly as terrifying as the reality of coming face to face with the man
himself.
“We didn’t do anything,” I blurt. “I
mean, we did, but it wasn’t a big deal. I’ll…I’ll give the money back. Just
tell your men not to hurt my friend. It was all my idea. Let her go, and you
can take me.”
“Who the fuck are you?” he asks. His
voice is so thick and deep I feel it more than hear it. Shivers erupt all over
my body.
He raises his arm, revealing a long
curved blade.
For the first time in my life, I can’t
seem to be able to hide my fear with my wit or sarcasm. My throat tightens. I
can’t swallow, never mind speak. I’ve lost my words completely, along with my
nerve.
The man’s blade drips red onto the
pavement from the serrated tip.
Every fear response I didn’t even know I
had runs rampant. I’m holding my breath. My muscles tense as if running was
still an option. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck prickle my skin
as they stand on end. I raise up to my tip-toes and push back, trying to make
myself disappear into the wall.
I glance from the knife back to his chest,
then back again. The splatters across his skin?
It’s not fucking paint.
Before I can process what the hell is
happening, he switches from slow-stalking mode into hyper-speed, pinning my
wrists above my head. His hard, bloodied chest pushes against me, smearing
blood across my white tank top, forcing the back of my head to connect roughly
with the wall.
“I’ll only ask you this one more time.
Who the fuck are you?” His low guttural growl rattles my bones.
His unblinking, angry, golden eyes lock
onto mine. Without the fluorescent light, they’re more golden brown than a
glowing yellow. As much as I want to, I can’t look away. He could be the last
person I ever see.
The thought is just the spike of
adrenaline I need.
“Let me go,” I say, finally finding my
words. I try and jerk my wrists from his grip with no luck. I’m trapped. My
fear and anger rise to the surface, but I shove it back down. Fear won’t get me
out of this situation, so it will have to wait for its damned turn.
He digs his rough fingers into my skin.
“Answer me. Who the fuck are you?”
The bite of pain only makes me angrier.
I throw his question back at him. “Who the fuck are you?”
He glances down at my rapidly rising and
falling chest before pinning me with his stare. The corner of his mouth tugs up
in a half-smirk.
“So much confidence for someone who's
trembling,” he says with an amused glint shining in his demonic eyes.
I shrug. “Maybe, I’m just not a fan of
enclosed spaces,” I say through gritted teeth.
“You didn’t answer me,” he says.
“Why do you have blood all over you?” I
answer him with yet another question. “You know, if you were committing some
kind of crime back there, you should be more careful. I recommend a bleach bath
and death by fire for your clothes the first chance you get. If it’s self-harm,
I’m sure there’s a helpline you can call.”
He cocks his head to the side. His
nostrils flare. His face is only inches away. I can feel the heat from his body
against mine. His cool breath flutters against my neck.
I’ve never been this close to a man
before. My trembling grows. My inner thighs shake sending a rippling wave of
something very unfamiliar coursing through the center my body. I try and press my legs together to stop it
from happening again, but when he uses his knee to wedge my legs apart, caging
me in even further, it only grows, uncoiling from within like a slinky being
pulled apart at the ends.
I swallow hard as the stubble of his jaw
presses against my neck.
“Name,” he demands, his voice raspier
than before.
I shut my eyes tight for a beat, trying
to gain composure, control, something that will help me as I try and reason my
way out of this. “Listen, I didn’t see anything,” I blurt. “That is if you did
anything. I’m not going to call the police if that’s what you're worried about.
I wouldn’t anyway, even if I saw something, which I didn’t.”
His brows knit together in a harsh line.
“Why?”
His question confuses me.
“Why what?”
“Why wouldn’t you tell the police?”
Because
Marco owns them.
“Let’s just say that I haven’t exactly
been a model citizen myself tonight. Let’s face it. If the police around here
weren’t being paid not to do their jobs, half this town would be locked up.” I
take a deep, shaky breath. “Especially people like us.”
He stills. There’s no more talking. Only
heavy breathing and a battle of wills. He releases one of my hands. I think
he’s reaching for his knife. My blood turns cold. I can feel my face pale as my
heart starts beating as faster and faster as if it wants to get in as many as
possible before the end.
I’m surprised when he doesn’t go for his
knife. Instead, his hand travels slowly down my chest into my cleavage.
“No, don’t!” I say, but it’s too late,
he’s already yanked on my locket.
“Please just give it back, and let me
go,” I plead. Feeling like it’s my real heart he's torn from my chest. “It’s
the only thing in this world that means anything to me. Besides my best friend,
it’s all I have.”
I hate the desperation in my voice, but
it’s the truth.
He’s silent for a moment. He raises his
arms. I flinch, raising my arms over my face defensively. But when nothing
happens, I lower them, just in time to see him push back his hood, revealing
his face.
“Why?” I ask, closing my eyes knowing
full well that the only time a criminal reveals himself to a witness is right
before they take them out.
“Look at me,” he demands, holding my
face in his hand.
“No!” I say, shutting my eyes tighter.
“Look at me!” he bellows. He’s on me
again. This time, he holds my head in his large rough hands. “Open your fucking
eyes so you can see me.”
With no other choice than to get my head
squished like a turtle under a car tire, I do as he demands. Opening my eyes, I
blink through the haze, and when it clears, I’m met with tousled,
medium-length, light brown hair, slicked back on the top, shorn close to head
on the sides. His nose is slightly crooked like it’s been broken a few times
before. The stubble on his square, defined jaw is a few days over needing a
shave. A jagged scar runs through his chin like an angry white lightning bolt.
He’s the most fucking beautifully
terrifying man I’ve ever seen.
He’s searching my eyes for something,
but I don’t know what.
“Why?” I ask in a whisper.
His hands release mine, but he doesn’t
step back. He leans in closer, speaking against my cheek in a rumble of a
whisper. The strange feeling from earlier comes back as a zap of electricity
bouncing around my insides looking for somewhere to ground.
I’m breathing heavy. Our lips are so
close, almost touching. He slides one hand off my face, snaking it around my
neck, pulling me closer. He starts to answer in a rumble of a whisper, causing
goosebumps to rise on my already prickled skin. “Because I want you to see the
face of the man who’s just—”
“Where the fuck are you?” calls Gabby
from the other side of the wall. “I lost them!”
The moment, whatever it is, is now
broken. The man releases me so suddenly I brace myself against the wall to keep
from falling. I turn my head toward her voice.
“Gabby!” I shout back.
My heart is beating out of control. Out
of habit, I raise my hand to my chest, seeking familiar comfort.
I look up. The man in the hood is gone.
And so is my locket.
Review by Gia:
Perversion is a good read. In the beginning we get Grim
and Trick when they are younger. Grimm is 16 and Trick is 12 when they
meet. They have this instant connection but they lose touch with each
other. Neither one has a good childhood, both are in the
foster system. Trick is a strong girl and she does what she has to
to survive. Five years later their paths cross again. They live in a world that were things are far from perfect. This
time thing are even more complicated for them. I was hooked on their
story. I picked it up for a little bit of reading before bed but that
turned into a late night of reading because I didn't want to put it down
It's part of a trilogy so there is a cliffy at the end. I can't wait for the next one. 4 Amazeballs Stars!
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