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Monday, February 10, 2014

Promiscuous By Missy Johnson



 

 
 
When you're a twenty-year-old triple platinum singer you get an image.
Except mine was all wrong. On drugs; pregnant; fucking my manager. 
But I wasn't; it was all lies. I was a good girl.
But now I'm done being the good girl, because it has gotten me nowhere.
I spent the last year in love with a guy who I was paying to fuck me.
A guy who fell in love with someone else.
But now I’m over it. Now it's about me.
If the world thinks I’m a bad girl, then hell, that’s what I’ll be.
I'll show them bad.
Let's find out how promiscuous I can be.

  



 
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Our 3 Star Review

Okay so there's a warning at the top and now I'm making sure you read it. There are some very intense subjects in there. So now I've warned you too.

This is the story of Beth the singer friend from book 1. She's gone through something horrible and is just trying to bury it instead of dealing which isn't working for her. Roman is a mysterious guy 12 years her senior how takes interest in her, and for some reason Beth is comfortable around him. As they get closer their secrets threaten to unravel hers more so than his because this story will actually continue in another book.

Beth was so sweet and caring in book one and down all we see is the unglamorous side of her apart from her time with Roman there is not a single time she's happy with anything else in her life throughout the book. Roman I liked at the beginning even though he has secrets, but as the time came to tell her the truth the story just ended instead of him telling Beth everything. With the story jumping around so much I just couldn't get into it as much as I would've liked.




 

I was beginning to realize what this was: he wanted more of the party girl. He was here to see the Beth who stayed out all night drinking, and kissing random girls and making out with handsome men.

Not me. Well, not the real me, anyway.

I slipped a finger through the tie of my robe, letting it fall open. I arched my shoulders, letting the material float down my shoulders. Goosebumps hit my arms as I stood there confidently. Inside, I was a screaming mess.

What the hell am I doing? What if he touched me? What if I freaked out?

Sure, I'd had plenty of sex since the rape, but none sober. I hadn't let anyone touch me without being completely smashed first.

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes wandering over my curves as time seemed to freeze. I couldn't read his expression, but the longer he stood there, watching me, the more I began to panic. Without saying a thing, he bent down and retrieved the robe, threading my arms back
into it.

"I'm not here to fuck you, Beth." He spoke softly, his hands running over the soft silk of my robe, down my arms to my fingers. I jumped back, both relieved and confused.

Well, this is embarrassing.
 
 
 
 
Missy lives in a small town in Central Victoria with her husband, and her confused pets (a dog who think she's a cat, a cat who thinks he's a dog...you get the picture).

When she's not writing, she can usually be found looking for something to read.
 

 
 
 
 

 

 





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