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Belle's Bookshelf

"With a dreamy far-off look, and her nose stuck in a book..."

Currently reading

What Maisie Knew
Henry James
My Friend the Enemy
Dan Smith
Worlds of Arthur: Facts and Fictions of the Dark Ages
Guy Halsall
Year of the Cat - Carroll Bryant ETA: Here is the screenshot where the author himself says the character is based on this girl.The author has based a character on a teenage girl he is obsessed with. He has used her real name without her permission. If that wasn't bad enough, the quotes in the spoiler tag below show how absolutely disgusting the whole thing is. The only other notable thing is how poor the writing is; the author doesn't even seem to know the meaning of some of the words he uses. It would be funny if it wasn't so disturbing. This book makes me sick."I stood before the armoire in my hotel room. I opened the bottle and began my journey to the netherworld. One sip after another, it didn’t take very long. Soon, my mind was not my own. The room spinning, I thought wise to crawl into the bed. I continued my quest for redemption. Part of that quest was to think about her, whom ever she may be. Jude, Isabella, I couldn’t keep track anymore it would seem. It didn’t really matter; she was everything I ever wanted in a girl, minus the oddity of her personality. Then again, the more I dwelled on it; she was refreshing in a psychopathic kind of way. One thing about her, there didn’t seem to be any drama accompanying the shadows living within. Irrationality? Sure. The folly of her ways facilitated the preemptive nature of my ambitions. And my ambitions were to rape her of the last ounce of pointlessness possessing her. I was sure there had to be some. That whimpering in the corner routine was evidence to that. I concluded that there may have been a time when she wore red ribbons on her arms." "She stepped back, and lifted her dress off in one sweet motion. She tossed it off to the side. “Tonight,” She requested, “you will treat me like a whore.” She came forward and slowly descended to her knees. She undid my pants and removed them from my body, along with my boxers. I tore off my shirt. She took me into her hand, massaging me for a few minutes before taking me into her mouth. She never did this before. In fact, that night, we did everything we never did before. Things I only fantasized about. Things Shelly would never allow me to do to her when we were married. Things unspeakable. Things they do in pornography films. She was my whore. I was her bitch. The night was our Ménage à trois""And then there she is, living in the depths of my unrest. Jude, Isabella, Elsa and Iris. A multitude of scientific research studies rolled up into one person. How many psychologists would love to get their hands on her? And not just for her screwed up mental state either. There would be many men lined up to take the beating she hands out with just a passing, flirtatious smile. A vixen of absolute trouble to the highest level of ominous one can possibly reach. Even her innocence is menacing. And yet, all are willing to sacrifice themselves on her alter of benevolence. Just as I have."