Blog Tour Promo & Giveaway
Corrupt
by
Penelope Douglas
 |
Genre:
Dark,
Erotica, Contemporary Romance
Release Date:
November 17, 2015
|
~ Synopsis ~
Erika
I was told that dreams were our heart’s
desires. My nightmares, however, became my obsession.
His name is Michael Crist.
My boyfriend’s older brother is like that scary
movie that you peek through your hand to watch. He is handsome, strong, and
completely terrifying. The star of his college’s basketball team and now gone
pro, he’s more concerned with the dirt on his shoe than me.
But I noticed him.
I saw him. I heard him. The things that he did,
and the deeds that he hid…For years, I bit my nails, unable to look away.
Now, I’ve graduated high school and moved on to
college, but I haven’t stopped watching Michael. He’s bad, and the dirt I’ve
seen isn’t content to stay in my head anymore.
Because he’s finally noticed me.
Michael
Her name is Erika Fane, but everyone calls her
Rika.
My brother’s girlfriend grew up hanging around
my house and is always at our dinner table. She looks down when I enter a room
and stills when I am close. I can always feel the fear rolling off of her, and
while I haven’t had her body, I know that I have her mind. That’s all I really
want anyway.
Until my brother leaves for the military, and I
find Rika alone at college.
In my city.
Unprotected.
The opportunity is too good to be true as well
as the timing. Because you see, three years ago she put a few of my high school
friends in prison, and now they’re out.
We’ve waited. We’ve been patient. And now every
last one of her nightmares will come true.
I fell back to my feet and crept
through my apartment as I listened to the pounding that had now become a steady
attack. My feet followed the sound, stepping absently closer to it, and I
finally pressed my ear against the wall leading to my hallway, my heart racing
as the vibrations touched my skin.
Resting my cheek against the surface, I
swallowed the tight lump in my throat as the thumping against the wall grew
faster and faster.
There was someone over there. In the
empty apartment.
Holding up my phone, I dialed the
office downstairs but got no answer. I knew there was a night manager named
Simon Something-Or-Other, but I didn’t think many people were on duty at night.
He must be away from his desk.
I continued listening, wondering if I
could ignore it and just wait until morning to ask the manager about it, but
the further down the hall I travelled, the louder it got until I was standing
next to the rear entrance.
Opening up the door, I peeked my head
into the hallway, holding the heavy steel exit open just enough to inspect.
Glancing to my right, I saw a door just
like mine. And then I heard a woman’s high-pitched cry ring out around me, and
I started breathing harder.
And then there was another cry. And
another, and another, and…
Was she having sex?
My mouth fell open as I tried not to laugh.
Oh, my God.
But I thought the place was supposed to
be empty.
I stepped out, knife in hand—just in case—and
walked quietly down to the other door, glancing up and seeing small security
cameras along the wall, probably installed when the apartments were built.
Pressing my ear to the door, I
listened, still hearing the thump, thump,
thump of something hitting the wall, and the girl’s breathy cries over and
over again.
I folded my lips between my teeth, covering
my smile with my free hand.
But then the woman cried out. “No! Ah,
oh, God! Please!”
And my face fell, hearing the fear in
her voice. The short, shrill screams were now different. Panicked and scared,
and her cries sounded struggled. My mouth suddenly went dry as I stood there
listening.
“Ah!” she cried out again. “No, please
stop!”
I backed away from the door, not
finding it funny anymore.
But then something hit the door from
the other side, making a loud thud, and I scurried backward. “Oh, shit,” I
gritted out under my breath.
I shot my head up to the cameras, now
wondering if they fed to Security downstairs or to whoever was inside the
apartment. Did they know I was out here?
I spun around and dashed for my door,
grabbing the handle and trying to twist it.
But it was locked. “Dammit!” I mouthed.
Fucking thing must lock automatically.
Another thud hit the door, mere feet
away from me—so close—and I darted my eyes over to it, my breathing turning
fast and painful.
I pulled on the door handle again,
twisting and yanking, but it didn’t budge.
Another thud hit the door, and I jerked
upright, dropping the knife.
“Shit.”
I dived down to pick it up, but just
then I heard the other door swing open, so I bolted down the stairwell, hiding
behind the wall and forgetting about the knife.
Fuck!
Screw this. Whoever was coming out of
the vacant apartment was definitely someone I didn’t want to meet. I dashed
down flight after flight, a cry lodged in my throat as fear gripped my chest.
A pounding echoed above me, and I
spared a quick glance upward, seeing a hand sliding down the railings as
whoever it was jumped flights of stairs.
Oh, my God. I
raced down, one flight after the other, a drop of sweat gliding down my neck.
The pounding was getting closer and closer, my legs about to give out as my
exhausted muscles worked as fast as they could. I gasped, seeing the door
labeled LOBBY. I yanked it open and burst through, looking behind me once again
to see if he—or she—was behind me.
But then I slammed into a wall, and I
let out a small cry as hands gripped my upper arms.
I looked up and exhaled a breath,
seeing Michael Crist towering over me, his eyes narrowed.
“Michael?” I breathed out, frozen in
confusion.
“What the hell are you doing?” He
arched a brow and set me back, away from him, and let go of my arm. “It’s after
one a.m.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came
out. Why was he here?
He stood in front of an elevator, a
different one than I had taken this morning, dressed in a black suit, looking
like he’d just been at a club or something. A young brunette stood next to him,
beautiful in a tight, navy-blue cocktail dress that fell mid-thigh.
I suddenly felt exposed, dressed in my
silk sleep shorts and black tank top, my hair hanging about, probably in
tangles.
“I…” I looked over my shoulder again,
noticing that whoever had followed me down the stairs hadn’t come out the door yet.
I twisted my head back, looking up at
Michael. “I heard something up on my floor,” I told him.
And then I shook my head, still
confused. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” he shot back, and I
immediately recognized that ever-present intolerant tone that he always used
with me.
“Live here?” I questioned. “I thought
you lived in your family’s building.”
He slid a hand into his pocket and
cocked his head, looking at me point-blank like I was stupid.
I closed my eyes, expelling a sigh. “Of
course,” I breathed out, realization hitting. “Of course. You’re the one who
lives on the twenty-second floor.”
~ Links to Buy ~
~ About the Author ~
Penelope
Douglas is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling
author of the Fall Away series.
She
dresses for autumn year round, loves anything lemon flavored, and believes
there is too much blood in her Coca Cola stream. Or too much Coca Cola in her
blood stream. Or...
You
know what? It doesn't matter. She loves Coke. Now you know.
She
lives in Las Vegas with her husband and daughter.
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