Welcome to my stop on The Last Girl Blog Tour! On my site today, I'll be posting my review of the book and an exciting excerpt!
The Last Girl
Author: Kitty Thomas
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Erotica
Goodreads Description: Six years ago strangers broke into Juliette’s house; she was home alone and only thirteen. She kept her eyes closed, praying that if she didn’t see anything, she wouldn’t be killed. No one harmed her. In fact, one of the thieves protected her. Now Juliette’s dreams are haunted by him.
Christian has waited to take her, resisting the urge each night. It always ends badly with human pets. They’re too fragile. The longer he can wait, the better, because the moment he takes her, the clock on her life starts ticking down.
Then she’ll be gone forever.
Review: This book was a bit of a stray from what I normally read, but since it had to do with vampires, I thought I'd give it a go. The story was pretty well written, although the plot and setting felt a bit cliched. The characters were interesting but flat and stereotypical - especially the two main characters, Juliette and Christian. I felt that I had read several versions of this same story before, only in different packaging. The storyline flowed well and the steamy scenes were certainly - *steamy.* It was a fast paced read and although it wasn't quite for me, lovers of paranormal romance and dark erotica are sure to enjoy it.
I feel absurd being a nineteen-year-old virgin, a fossil from another time. Part of me is just glad to do the deed and get the fucking thing over. I feel like I’ve got a white V emblazoned on me, or as if I give off some type of scent. I don’t like the idea that something that should be private feels as if it’s somehow being broadcast.
I open the door a little bleary-eyed, my hair still mussed from oversleeping.
“Did I wake you?”
He’s got this stupid grin on his face. And flowers. I want to smack him. I know this is all because I’ve decided to give in and put out after three months of dating. I feel like I should love him if I’m going to do this.
I run my hands self-consciously through my hair.
“You look great,” he says, holding out the flowers.
No I don’t. I know it. He knows it. He’s just so happy to be getting laid tonight that he’s seeing me through horny-guy glasses. I’m still too sleepy to be annoyed.
I put the flowers in a glass of water and slip some flip flops on. It’s Southern Florida. Flip flops are a year-round joy here.
He’s got something romantic planned at the beach. Black cloth goes over my eyes as we get out of the car—a blindfold. I almost panic, but then I realize if I make a fuss, it will invite questions I can never answer. So I smile shakily and allow him to lead me down to the beach. My flip flops are still in the car. I breathe slowly in and out, listening to the waves crash against the shore, inhaling the crisp, salty scent of the sea, feeling the instability of sand collapsing beneath my feet.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back. I’ve got to get a couple of things.”
I try not to be in that dark closet. I try, but I can’t help it. I’m there again, my eyes squeezed tightly shut, silently begging not to be found, not to be killed. A hand is on my arm again, leading me away and I come out of the fog, remembering I’m here with Devon. Everything’s okay.
“Where are we going?”
My heart starts to hammer faster in my chest. Then it pounds and vibrates in my head. My entire being is one rapidly thudding heartbeat with no slowdown in sight. Something is wrong here, but I can’t make myself remove the cloth from my eyes.
You’re being ridiculous. It’s just Devon. He has a surprise.
I find myself in the passenger seat of a car. It’s not Devon’s car. I just know. Even blindfolded I know. This is the point where I should rip the scrap of fabric off and run. There is no evidence this person has a weapon, and he or she hasn’t spoken to me yet. But before my hands can move to the blindfold, the driver’s side door is shut and the car has started.
It’s so fast, I assume there must be more than one person involved. Tears gather and absorb into the thick cloth covering my eyes. Terror freezes me, keeping me from taking off the blindfold, from trying to leap out of the car that’s moving too fast now anyway. I’m suddenly thirteen again. The dream is real, and I believe that if I don’t see them, they won’t kill me.
I’m silent and they are silent. The only sound is the wheels scraping against the rough road and the occasional bump. My tears are coming harder now. Why can’t I fight back? Scream? Beg? Try to escape? Just take the fucking blindfold off! But I can’t do it. I may as well be tied up because I’m so scared I don’t know what to do or what to think.
A little while passes and the car stops. Again, too fast for me to react, my door is open and someone is helping me out. How many are there?
I cringe away but find my feet moving in the direction I’m being led. “Don’t hurt me. Please.”
Then I feel stupid. What if it’s Devon? What if this is part of some stupid frat thing he’s gotten himself into? It would be just like him to combine my deflowering with a secret frat party or something.
I expect someone to start giggling or say I’m a spaz, but fingers gently grasps my wrist, lifting my hand. I feel the planes of his face as he guides me to see him. I shake my head in disbelief.
I was good. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t tell anyone anything. This can’t happen. I did what I was supposed to do. But it’s him. It’s my nightmare.
“I missed you, Juliette.”
Purchase the book here.
About the Author:
Kitty Thomas writes dark literary fiction that explores power dynamics and sexuality (back in the olden days people called it erotica). This work is fiction and meant for an adult audience. The author does not endorse or condone any of the behavior carried out by characters in her stories.
Her work is not “erotic romance”. Often on some level it is about love and/or obsession. Often the couple in some way ends up “together”, but the work should not be expected to follow the conventions of any type of genre romance, erotic or otherwise. If you are looking for genre romance (erotic or otherwise), please read a different author. Erotic romance is “more explicit romance”. This is something different.
Inspiration for Kitty’s work comes from many sources including Story of O, Nine and a Half Weeks, and the work of Claudia D. Christian.
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