EXCERPT: Perversion by T.M. Frazier

๐๐๐ผ ๐๐ค๐๐๐ฎ ๐๐๐จ๐ฉ๐จ๐๐ก๐ก๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ช๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ง ๐ค๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐ง๐๐๐จ, ๐.๐. ๐๐ง๐๐ฏ๐๐๐ง, ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐จ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐ฃ ๐๐ก๐ก ๐ฃ๐๐ฌ ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ก๐ค๐๐ฎ ๐ฌ๐๐ฉ๐ ๐๐ฃ ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐-๐๐๐ง๐ค ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช'๐ง๐ ๐๐ค๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ก๐ค๐ซ๐ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐๐๐ฉ๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ก๐ก๐จ๐ฎ ๐๐๐ง๐ค๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ฉ๐ ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐๐ ๐จ ๐ช๐ฅ ๐๐๐ง ๐จ๐ก๐๐๐ซ๐.
PERVERSION, book one in the all-new Perversion Trilogy is coming September 25th and we have the first sneak peek for you!

Love is supposed to be magical.
Ours is suicidal.
The first time I met Emma Jean Parish,
she conned me into taking her p*ssy.
Her ๐๐๐ก
When she was sixteen,
she manipulated me into giving her
her very first kiss.
At eighteen she gave me ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ฆ๐กโ๐๐๐.
She's a con artist.
I'm a criminal.
I use her.
She manipulates me.
The attraction between us is explosive.
When it detonates
we could both wind up dead.
PERVERSION IS BOOK ONE IN THE PERVERSION TRILOGY
BOOK TWO: POSSESSION
BOOK THREE: PERMISSION


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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 whatโs magic besides a sleight of hand?
Itโs a lie.
And lying is what Iโm 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, Iโm using it to earn for Marco. The thrill is there, but itโs muted, hindered, lost under his pile of mounting threats.
The inside of the casino smells like stale cigarettes, spilled beer, and burnt coffee. Weโre not supposed to be in here. Itโs Bedlam territory. But thatโs also why itโs perfect.
It isnโt like anyone would recognize us here.
Weโve made friends with a few of the cocktail waitresses by giving them a small cut, and they donโt ask questions or ring any alarms when they see us working. Iโve also been straightening my hair over the last few years since my crazy curls stand out like a reflector on a dark highway. Iโve 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 weโve 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 Iโm pretending to play. Sheโs 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 donโt 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 donโt find the ring Gabby was ranting about. They wonโt either. Because itโs 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 Iโve lost my dollar, Iโm turning the ring over, inspecting it like I donโt have half a dozen more just like it in my drawer back at the apartment.
โWould you look at that?โ 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. โIโll take that. I saw the woman who dropped it. Iโll go return it to her.โ
Liar. You just want the reward.
โThatโs so nice of you,โ I say. I hold it out, about to drop it into his hand when I pull it back. โI bet thereโs a reward for something this valuable.โ I start to walk around the man. โIโll take it up to management. Maybe, they knowโฆโ
โHere,โ the man says, holding up a hundred-dollar bill. โTake this. Iโll take it to her. I justโฆyou know, as I said, I want to make sure it gets back to the right person.โ
Youโre not even a good liar.
Sometimes, itโs just too freaking easy. And this scam wasnโt even an Emma Jean and Gabby original. We saw it a long time ago in a movie starring Jennifer Love Hewitt. Doesnโt anyone else watch movies?
I shrug and pass him the ring. Plucking the bill from his hand, I tuck it into my bra. โThanks,โ I say before quickly making my way toward the large glass front doors. Itโs Thursday. Marcoโs money is due in two days, and weโre short this week.
Really short.
I walk slowly and wave goodbye to the valets with a smile on my face. โAny luck, tonight?โ
One asks me.
โI think so,โ I answer with a smile. Once Iโm 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 Iโd 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 donโt have to wait long.
โRun!โ 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 weโre 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 Iโm 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.
โOne of those cunt waitresses must have tipped them off!โ Gabby says, through shallow breaths. Sheโs 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. Weโve mapped out this escape plan a thousand times, but this is the first time weโve 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. Sheโll be fine.
She HAS to be fine.
Please be okay, Gabby. Please.
Iโm 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.
โGabby?โ I ask into the darkness. Thinking itโs 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 roofโs edge of the adjoining building. And the hiss of what sounds like a cat behind a dumpster.
I walk over and peer around it. โGabby? Are you hurt? Say something!โ I whisper-shout.
Someone moves from within the shadow. โGet out here, Gabby. Weโve got to go before Marโฆโ
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.
Itโs a manโฆtwice my size.
โWho are you?โ 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 theyโre locked on me.
My โsave your assโ 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.
Thereโs 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.
Thereโs 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 itโs useless.
Fear consumes me. Swallows me whole.
He continues toward me. As he gets closer, I realize itโs not just sweat glistening on his skin. Thereโs something else splattered across the tattoos on his chest and on his stubbled jaw.
It almost looks like wet paint.