Happy Release Day to Stylo Fantome and her new book THE BAD
ONES! Enter the giveaway for a chance to win a $50 Amazon Gift Card too – good luck!
#ConnedIntoBeingBad
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Love isn’t always bright and
shiny.
Sometimes, it’s dirty and wrong, buried six feet deep in a secret place
where only wild things dare to go. Hidden behind a big black curtain that covers things no one should
ever see.
Sometimes it happens between two people who should never be allowed
to come together. One who is a match, and the other who just happens to be gasoline.
One strike is all it takes to burn the whole world down, and that’s exactly
what they plan on doing.
Even if it kills them.
warning: this book contains graphic sex, extremely brutal violence, bad language, and people repeatedly and knowingly breaking the law.
Review
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Sylo Fantome is a brilliantly talented writer. Or a total psychopath. Maybe a bit of both?
I don’t know where she drew her inspiration for this story … but it doesn’t matter … what she delivers with this book is bloody fabulous. And when I say bloody, I do mean bloody.
Dark and disturbing.
Depraved and dangerous.
Diabolical and deadly.
Perhaps I’m the sick and twisted one because I fell in love with all of it!
Things you must prepare yourself for when reading this book:
1. Clear your calendar – once you open this, you won’t want to put it down.
2. Have your therapist on speed dial – you may need to talk it out.
3. Lose your moral compass – you won’t need it.
4. Most importantly – have your hangover kit ready – it’s going to be a bad one
Another book added to my favorites for the year. Bravo!
Con finally unlocked the doors and she hefted herself into the massive vehicle. They sat in silence for a while, their breath fogging up the glass. Then he opened his mouth.
“Did he touch you?”
Dulcie knew he wasn’t asking about the homeless man.
“Not in any way that counts,” she replied, turning to look at him. His hands had moved to grip the steering wheel.
“So he has touched you.”
“Jared was just an experiment, I wanted to see if -”
“You let him fucking touch you.”
“You fucking left me!” she was suddenly screaming. He didn’t even flinch, just gripped the steering wheel harder. “You fucking left me in this fucking town, without a goddamn goodbye! Without a goddamn word! God, you have no idea what it’s been like. That fucking camera, all those drawings. And there’s all these people, and talking, and feeling this way, and all the blackness, and I don’t even know what’s wrong with me, and nothing. You come back, and it’s like nothing to you. Oh hey, Dulcie. Where’s your sketchbook, Dulcie. Come to a party, Dulcie. Let me just fuck this chick in the woods, Dulcie. So you know what? Yeah, he fucking touched me. I let him fucking touch me. And I hated every minute of it, and I would pretend it was you, and I would hate you, and I would hate myself, and I just let it happen.”
Con lunged across the seat, and absurdly, her first thought was “wow, he’s really fast” before his fingers wrapped around her throat. She wasn’t fazed, though, and she pushed right back, slapping him across the face. This only caused him to clench both hands around her neck and he yanked her forward, dragging her to him so their faces were only inches apart.
“Stupid little Dulcie,” he whispered, his breath hot against her lips. She held onto his wrists and glared at him, but didn’t try to pull away. His fingers got tighter. “So scared of the big bad wolf.”
“I’m not … scared of you,” she managed to gasp out, but then his grip grew so tight he completely cut off her oxygen.
“Of course you aren’t scared of me. I’m not the wolf. You are.”
So that’s what was hiding behind the curtain. I wish you’d told me sooner, Con. We could’ve reveled in our darkness together.
It felt like a weight was lifted off her back. She’d been pretending for so long, and she hadn’t even realized it. Had conditioned herself to do it. It was easier to believe Con was the darkness, and she was simply drawn to it. Basking in his wake. But it was all a lie – she was every bit as dark as him. They were the same animal. She’d just been better at deceiving herself. And now they’d evolved into something else, into a new, higher being.
Her lungs were throbbing, screaming for oxygen. She could feel her pulse pounding behind her face. Her mouth was open, but she couldn’t make a sound. Black spots danced in front of her eyes, yet still they stared at each other. Recognizing each other, maybe for the first time ever.
Maybe for the last time.
What a way to die, looking into the face of this beautiful boy. What a gift.
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Crazy woman living in an undisclosed location in Alaska (where the need for a creative mind is a necessity!), I have been writing since …, forever? Yeah, that sounds about right. I have been told that I remind people of Lucille Ball – I also see shades of Jennifer Saunders, and Denis Leary. So basically, I laugh a lot, I’m clumsy a lot, and I say the F-word A LOT.
I like dogs more than I like most people, and I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t drink. No, I do not live in an igloo, and no, the sun does not set for six months out of the year, there’s your Alaska lesson for the day. I have mermaid hair – both a curse and a blessing – and most of the time I talk so fast, even I can’t understand me.
Yeah. I think that about sums me up.
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