ROMANTIC DYSTOPIA FOR MATURE YA READERS YOUNG NA READERS
In post-apocalyptic North America, rape and sexual slavery are legal. Lila Velez, desperately wants to lose her virginity before the troops visit her town, and can take it away by force. She makes plans to seduce her only friend, Rey, the most attractive man in her town. Lila does not love him, but he is the only man who has shown her true affection, an affection she is willing to take as a substitute of love.
Lila’s coping mechanism to her mother’s violent attack is her secret. A secret that will bring her closer to Aleksey Fürst, a foreign, broody man that she distrusts because his links to the troops and his rough, yet irresistible appearance. He offers Lila an alternative to her plans, a possibility that terrifies her…and tempts her in spite of herself.
All the while Lila will have to find a way to live in the constant company of death, slavery, starvation, sexual abuse and the danger of losing the people she loves the most.
Due to strong language, violent scenes and sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.
I’m not the only person in the river. I can’t see how many people are around, but I can hear someone is treading in the water.
Panic rushes cold through my veins. Have they seen me? Does the splashing come from Starvillers hiding from the shots as well?
For a moment, there’s only silence. Then another shot startles me, and I fight my body to keep calm. I swim as fast as I can, not caring about silence anymore. Better to put distance between myself and my possible enemies.
The current makes my escape slow. I reach a point where I can hide behind a trunk.
Then I see him.
A young man, so tall and built that for a moment, I think he’s Sasquatch minus the fur. No one in Starville, not even Rey, is so burly. Strong muscles reveal years of military training and hint at the drug use that makes Patriot soldiers so inhumanly tall and massive. Long wet strands of blond hair run down his broad back giving him a leonine look. The tattoos on his back tell me he has been in combat and deserves respect.
A soldier! He seems to be alone.
My stomach clenches in panic and my heart beats at top speed. Soldiers are sadistic giants and killing machines. The tonics they use to build their muscles make them extremely dangerous, violent, and horny.
I lose sight of him for a moment. He emerges in a different spot where the water is deep. He is so tall that the water covers only up his waist while he’s standing. He must be at least seven feet tall and without a doubt, the strongest soldier I’ve ever seen. When he moves, I can see his private areas. Every part of him is enormous.
The soldier doesn’t seem to be in attack mode. He’s inclined and rubbing foam around his massive torso. He’s bathing.
The possibility of being discovered, with no one to witness when he rapes me makes the hairs on the back of my neck prick. I could wait for him to go, but what if they plan to camp here? I won’t wait for the coast to be clear risking discovery and gang rape.
I force myself to remain focused. I suspect he has a reason to be unbothered by the shots. If he’s not startled, it’s likely that whoever’s making the racket will take his side. I consider attacking him while he’s naked. I’ve been practicing knife throwing with my rebel group. But, Sasquatch’s nakedness and apparent relaxed behavior are deceiving. I’m armed while bathing, so he probably is too. And what if he alerts his companions? I don’t stand a chance fighting against a trained unit of steroid-injected soldiers.
He’s blocking the safer spot to get out of the river. There’s a gargantuan rock behind him that reaches not far from where I’m hiding. If I could climb it unseen, I could get back to where my clothes are and escape. The only other option is to swim to the other side, where the current is too strong. At this moment, my only advantage is my knowledge of the hiding places in this river.
The soldier frequently submerges and emerges for several minutes. My eyes open wide when I see that Sasquatch’s leonine face looks incredibly sad. Sadness isn’t an emotion I associate with soldiers.
When he rubs his face with foam and closes his eyes, I silently approach the lower part of the current and climb the rock.
I put my foot on the base of the rock. It’s smooth and slippery. There are few places to put my fingers and climb on, but I manage to climb my way up.
When I’m almost at the top, I toss my knife over the rock to free my hands. From here I see the soldier is all by himself.
The higher I climb, the less visible I become to him.
Sasquatch is back under the water now and hasn’t resurfaced for a while. In spite of the danger, I gawk, impressed by his lung capacity.
He finally emerges to take air, but I hide until he goes back under. I’m close to my goal when my feet become slippery traitors.
I fall into the water below me.
Butt first. Straight toward the soldier’s head.
I am a bookaholic and regret nothing.
I spent years trying to become a contemporary dance choreographer. Eventually I realized that I enjoyed writing my stories rather than creating dances for them.
I am obsessed with books that present damaged characters, swoon worthy guys, controversial topics and happy endings.
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