That’s the only memory he carries from a childhood he does not remember. And now it is all he knows. Blood is his life.
Knox Bishop has done a lot of horrible things, all at the command of the man who holds his leash. It’s a matter of loyalty for him. Allegiance to the man who saved his life when he was a child. So he goes where he is needed and does what he is told. He tortures. He kills. He kills. He tortures. It is an unrelenting cycle that he constantly craves and can never quite satisfy.
Eighteen year old Lacey Barnes distributes her assets to fund her dreams. Medical school is the end game and she is determined to get there by any means necessary. But a family member’s careless mistake derails her plans and now she must pay a price in order to save him.
She goes to Knox willingly offering him the only valuable thing she has. Herself. In doing so he allows her into his world, a world filled with darkness but rather than being scared it intrigues her. It lures her, calls to something in her that she hadn’t known existed until he awakened it.
Every bit of his flaws is reflected in her and Knox will do anything to keep her in the darkness with him.
Whether or not you appreciate the actual story line, the writing is amazing and captivating. Francette Phal never seems to fail in leaving me completely speechless. I never know what I am supposed to feel or how the book is going to leave me feeling in the end, but the writing just grabs a hold and doesn’t let go. Francette Phal writes a gripping tale and you never know who you will be rooting for from one minute to the next. There is a moment in each book that you hope for redemption of a character, but you never know if the character will get it or deserve it. Her books leave my head spinning and my heart pounding, Flawed is definitely one of those books.
Lacey is doing everything she can to save money to get through college. She doesn’t have a lot of options as to how to come by enough money to reach her goals in life. So following in the footsteps of her mother, she is not above whoring herself out to earn that money. Yup, just like her mom… the only difference is that Lacey is using the money for her future, her mom is using it to fill a need. Lacey won’t go down that path. She can never become a doctor if she is self medicating with illegal drugs in her system. But Lacey can’t walk away from her home life. Despite everything that has happened with her mother, she is still her mom. There were good times with her mom and her brother…
Her brother… well… he has never really done everything he can to protect his family. The moment he turned 18 he left it all to Lacey to take care of. But he also knew that in the end, no matter what, she would always be there for him too. Lacey always thought that he would do the same for her. Boy was she wrong. Now Lacey is trying to clean up just one more mess that her brother has gotten into, but she doesn’t have enough money to fix his problem. So she does the one thing that she never thought she would do. She sacrifices everything to save her brother. But at what cost?
Lacey’s world turns upside down when she is trying to save her brother by offering herself to Knox as the final payment needed. This is the biggest risk Lacey will ever take. Knox is not a hot amazing alpha male… well… he is but… he has such a dark side, rooted in a dangerous world. When we meet him he is actually doing his job, a foul and disgusting job that always ends exactly the same way. Each time he goes to work, someone ends up dead. And here Lacey is offering herself up to him… this isn’t awkward or terrifying…
But as with any crazy romance, things are not always as they seem. He isn’t just going to have sex with her as payment, he is going to make her pay for it. Oh boy… and what a tangled web we weave on the dark side…
This dark and twisty book will leave you gapping for air, inhaling deeply when you can and it will keep you wondering if someone else is going to die… I love Fracette Phal’s work because you never know which way the story is going to get and you don’t dare put it down because you have to know what comes next.
I’m not what you would call normal. The word has no meaning to me. But I’ve been pretending to act normal. It’s something I’ve been practicing since I’ve been aware of the thrum and its significance in my life. I was seven when I first heard the lullaby. Second grade, just before recess. It happened in a squall. Nothing and then all at once. I remember everything about that day. The bell rang and the other children went to play. Not me. Never me. I always stayed behind, mostly by choice, but never contested because the other children thought I was weird. I think maybe they unconsciously knew that I was lacking something fundamental. Something they all had and I didn’t, and maybe even never had at all. Whatever it was, I was alienated, excluded from their games. But I couldn’t say it bothered me. I was indifferent to it. Katia would sometimes play with me. Yuri’s youngest daughter, my adoptive sister, kept me company when she wasn’t with her own friends. But she’d been home sick that day.
In the small classroom with its oversized, rainbow-colored letters hanging over the chalkboard and tiled number blocks littering the carpeted floor, I sat in the beanbag chair staring fixatedly at the class pet. Sweet Ms. Devon always stayed with me but she’d left for a moment. A moment to heat her lunch. A moment to speak to a fellow staff member in the teachers’ lounge. But it’d been a moment too long for me. The noise in my head had been too loud. The urge too strong. The pink-eyed little rabbit, Mr. Apples, and the yellow pair of scissors sitting blades down in Ms. Devon’s “Best Teacher” mug had been too much of a temptation for me to resist.
The pounding of my heart. The lullaby and the thrum. The latch had given way beneath my shaking fingers, soaked with apprehension and anticipation. The struggle. The frantic movement of something living, something warm, with the same accelerated heartbeat as mine grappling for life. Desperate for freedom even while knowing the inevitable hand of death loomed was intoxicating. The thrill, the excitement, the sweet seductive power. I swam in it. Like too much candy on Halloween. Too much ice cream in the summer. It had been a quick death for Mr. Apples. It had been crude. Amateurish. But ever so effective in quieting the discord of my mind.
Poor, sweet Ms. Devon came to find me on the floor of the overly-bright classroom. Huddled on the floor, covered in Mr. Apples. She’d been one to smile a lot. But I stole her smile that day and replaced it with horror instead. Her pretty features contorted like a Kabuki mask.
Francette lives in Massachusetts with her amazingly supportive husband of ten years and her darling two year old son. Reading amazing books has led her to writing and she’s dabbled in fan-fiction before self-publishing her own works. She’s constantly thinking up new stories to write and does her best work when music is playing in the background. Romance is where she’s most comfortable but she hopes to one day venture in mystery novels. She has a weakness for coffee ice cream, tropical fruits and a good glass of wine.