Thursday, November 16, 2017

•٠•● Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ●•٠• Review Defiant Attraction by V.K. Torston •٠•● Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ●•٠•

Defiant Attraction by V.K. Torston


Dan might be the enemy of my enemy, but I’m not
 sure that makes him my friend. He’s definitely not
 my ‘step brother’, no matter what everyone at 
school says. Honestly, I don’t know what he’s 
supposed to be to me. Or what he’s becoming…

Fact: for every action, there is an equal 
and opposite reaction.

In the yearbook, I’ll be Sophia Ramos: 
Valedictorian. Years of honor roll certificates, 
AP classes, and lugging around an obnoxiously 
large cello case are about to finally pay off. If 
everything goes according to plan, I’ll escape 
these decaying suburbs for a top university across
 the country.

The problem? A few years ago, my mom met
 someone just as broke, just as drunk, and just as 
impulsive as she is. Approximately five seconds 
into their relationship, they decided it would be an
 excellent idea for him—and his son, Dan—to 
move in with us. (Spoiler alert: it wasn’t).

Now I share a house with none other than Daniel
 Cole. Even though Dan dropped out two years 
ago, he’s still the tattooed, bad boy, heartthrob, 
legend of St. Anthony’s Academy. He and I aren’t
 supposed to have anything in common.

Living together means war. First, Dan and I were 
at war with each other. Now, our rivalry is giving 
way to an unlikely alliance—two opposing sides 
teaming up against a common enemy: our 
respective parents.

Which is to say, we’ve been hanging out.

Question: What happens when an 
unstoppable force meets an immovable

Here’s the thing: My brain is a complex organ.
 One hundred billion neurons, each with an 
average of seven thousand synaptic connections 
to other neurons. My brain is my ticket out of here.

My heart, by contrast, is a pump. 
It moves blood around.

know Dan is off-limits. I know I shouldn’t do
 something I’ll regret. And I know how much is at
 stake (my family, my future).

So why can’t I stop thinking about him? Those 
inscrutable jade eyes. The smile that can say a 
thousand different things at once. That tattoo 
curving across his abs…

Even though I know better, I feel that pounding in
 my chest. And it’s getting harder to ignore.

But if I follow my heart, I can never go back.

Answer: There is no such thing as an 
immovable object. 

This was one hell of a book. This may be a contemporary but
 it is so well-written and thought through. This is such a great 
book. I so cannot wait to read more by V.K.

This book is about Sophia and Dan. They have been thrown
 into a impossible situation. Thier parents never married but 
everyone thinks they are brother and sister when they are 
not. But somewhere along the way they fell for each other. 
As I do not want to ruin this story as it is one you should read
 I will be real vague. Let's say they have a few obstacles 
including getting caught and it all blows up. Then they have
 to find a way back to each other.

Now before I ruin this for you I will leave off here. I hope you
 enjoy this book as much as I did. If you do like this book, 
please consider leaving a review. The Authors really like it 
when you do; they value your opinions too

Twisting the tray from side to side breaks the ice with a satisfying crack. I've almost gone so far as to pour water into my glass before I stop. Memories from last night surface and I recall sitting up in bed picking popcorn out of my bra.

Dan is wearing elastic-waist pajamas. I can see the edge of his boxer-briefs peeking out of the top but their waistline is much the same scenario. Everything has been so relaxed today. He's perfectly content—humming to himself!—while he finishes scrubbing the sink. He would never see it coming.

I pad softly across the linoleum, careful not to make a sound. The glass of ice waits poised in my hand. Dan finishes rinsing the sponge. In one fell swoop I wrench back a handful of pajama-and-boxer and let loose a frozen torrent.

Dan jumps, surprised, but he’s still reacting more to the grabbing than anything. While he knows something has happened, he doesn't yet know what.

I can't contain my devious grin while he searches my face. Then—there it is. A yelp, a jump, a shake. Cube after freezing cube tumbles from his pant legs. More yet are trapped inside his underwear. He hops from foot to foot and tries to push them out. Then he changes strategy.

“You little—”

“No!” I squeal, giggling wildly, and tear out of the kitchen.

I circle the table and he pauses just across its diameter. I try to feint left. He jerks then corrects his course and lunges. I backtrack.

We're stuck in a dead heat. A draw. One of us will have to make a break for it.

Throwing caution into the wind, I take off away from the table and leap over the couch. He struggles to follow my maneuver. Probably something to do with the glassful of ice melting in his underwear. I can't stop shrieking like a child and waving my hands like an idiot. If I don't make it to my room, he's going to tickle the fuck out of me.

My heart leaps as I crash through my door and tug it closed behind me. It stops short of snapping shut. One tattooed arm pries it open.

I jump back and seize a pillow from my bed like a shield. “No!”

Then the tickle-fingers. Just the sight of them breaks something inside me and I start laughing so hard I can’t breathe. Once, twice, three times I whack him with my pillow. He yanks it away and I trip backward onto my bed.

We land hard and he quickly takes both the figurative and literal upper hand. One knee wedges between my legs to keep me from kicking. His hands snatch my wrists in turn, pinning them above my head.

Dead heat. Stalemate. My armpits are terribly exposed but he can't tickle me as long as he's holding me down. My chest rises and falls as fast as my heartbeat. Desperate laughs push through my tight-pressed lips.

This close, his face a spare few inches from mine, I notice a field of freckles for the very first time. Light, almost invisible, they dust his nose and cheeks. Freckles don't seem like something Dan should have.

The lunatic laughter dies in my throat but my chest still rises and falls. A muscle in his jaw works. Green eyes dart rapidly between mine, thinking. About what, I’m not sure.

When we landed, his chest pressed down against mine. Now I feel his thin, worn sleeping t-shirt against my thin, worn sleeping t-shirt. No bra in between. On either side, only skin.

His hands, coiled around my wrists. My breasts, curving against his chest. Our lips, inches apart. This is starting to look like…something.

Our eyes stay locked. The longer we remain like this, the more the next movement matters. The stakes are shooting up. Maybe, if I could move, I could just tickle him back...

His knee shifts a fraction, hardly anything at all. Or maybe I imagined it. A rush of heat flows between my legs—so strong and so sudden I'm sure he could feel it. The fabric is so thin it might as well be bare skin. Goosebumps erupt down my arms. My nipples pull to points against him. He must feel them too.

I've been staring into his eyes so long…however long this has been—an infinity— and I mark their swift change. Something has happened there. Some choice, some determination...

Some noise rises from my throat. I'm not even sure if it was a sound or just a feeling, but I sense how it changed me. The space between us starts to close.

V.K. Torston is a millennial and ‘cool aunt’ to a
 brood of nieces and nephews. She was born and 
raised in San Francisco, attended university in 
New York City, and aspires to one day live in 
London. A veteran of the independent music 
scene, she began writing nonfiction in her late 
teens. Then she realized that making up stories 
was way more fun than coming up with endless 
synonyms for ‘frenetic’ and ‘danceable.’ Her 
hobbies include drinking too much coffee, making
 up stupid songs, and ranting about current 
events. Defiant Attraction is her first novel.

Author Website:

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