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Authors: J. L. Monro

The Perfection of Love

BOOK: The Perfection of Love
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Copyright 2013 © J. L. Monro

This book is a work of fiction.  Any references to real people, historical events, or real locales are used fictitiously.  Other names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, locales, persons living or deceased is entirely coincidental.


All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part and in any form.


ebook is for your personal enjoyment only.  This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people.  If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person.  If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use, then please return to Amazon and purchase your own copy.  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.




I dedicate this book to my children.  I think this story shows that no matter what mistakes we make in life there will always be a light at the end of the tunnel if you keep looking for it.


Mummy loves you both x



I seriously have to thank my special ladies at BDHM who inspired me to take the dive and write a book.


I especially want to thank all my friends who took the time to read my work over and over again to make sure it was as good as it possibly could be.


I also want to thank Social Butterfly Creative for the awesome cover.  I am still in love with it.


“Oh, shit…that was my favo
rite nail.”  I was trying to do my best James Bond impression and sneak out of my house.  No one told me that it would be so difficult and that I would lose a perfectly manicured nail in the process.  It briefly crossed my mind what genius had suggested I use the living room window to sneak out through tonight and realized that I was responsible for that bright idea.


Anthony Grey was throwing the mother of all house parties tonight as his parents had left him for two weeks to go skiing and he had insisted that he couldn’t take time out of his studies to go with them. So he would dutifully stay at home to get on with his coursework and keep an eye on the house for them while they were away.  The martyr. I think not, I mentally snorted. I’d asked Ma if I could go out tonight to which she had replied “No.  If you want something to do tonight, go and find a book and read it.”  Seriously not fair.  Everyone was going.  It was at that point I quickly responded, insanely cleverly I might add, “Actually Ma, you’re right.  I’ve got a quiz on Christianity on Monday that I need to revise for.  What I’ll do is get an early night tonight and head on over to Saz’s in the morning to get a good start on the work.  Don’t be surprised if you don’t see me when you get up.”  Absolutely ingenious.  Ma thinks I’ve been obedient and doesn’t question when I don’t come home in the morning as she’ll think I’m revising my cute butt off with Saz at her house.  It also helps that Ma is a devout Christian, or at least when it suited her, so she will support any notion that I might be interested in following the path of God. Never. Going. To. Happen!


Saz, who was actually called Sarah had been my best friend since I started senior school.  As long as the police don’t knock Saz’s mum’s door, her mum couldn’t really care less where Saz was, to an extent.  It’s not that her mum didn’t care, she was just more of a “children need to run free” kind of mum.


“Dana Josephine Daniels, where the fuck do you think you’re going?”


After pulling my heart out of my throat before I passed out from fright I turned to find my older sister Lana standing behind me with a look that managed to encompass pissed, amusement and curiosity all in one.  From the way she was dressed I could make the quick assumption that she was not on her way back to bed but probably heading to the same destination as myself.  Lana was dressed in a short denim mini skirt that emphasized her long lean legs and a hoodie that which was only practical for this cold as fuck weather.  She still managed to look sexy rather than casual.  Bitch!  If we stood next to each other, in fact if you stood Lana next to any of her sisters it would be hard to tell we were related, other than the blue eyes we both had.  She was supermodel tall, with long blond hair, which usually grazed the top of her bum cheeks.  She was petite in frame without looking anorexic and even I had to admit that her smile lit up the room and made it hard for you not to just smile along with her.  I had on a pair of black jeans that emphasized my curvaceous booty and a dark purple v-neck tee that gave the illusion that I had boobs.  Ma always said that God couldn’t be too generous and give me both, so he opted for a big ass.  I think I would have preferred to have big boobs but I couldn’t deny that I had heard a plenty of guys say more than once that they liked an ass on a girl more than tits. I work with what I’ve got.  I’m an average sort of pretty.  Nothing in your face that makes you think stunning but pretty enough that a guy might notice me.  I wasn’t tall but again that worked for me because it made guys feel really large next to me, so I can feed their ego without lifting a finger.  I loved my blue eyes, which I had courtesy of my mum and oval face from my dad.  I’d pulled my long dark brown hair into a ponytail, as it was a house party and not a club we were going to. I topped off my outfit with some strappy kitten heels to make it look like I’d made an effort but not too much. 


“The same place as you it looks like.”


“I specifically remember Ma saying you can’t go.”


“And I specifically remember Ma telling you last year that if she caught you smoking, regardless of whether it was normal tobacco or weed, one more time you were going to spend your last year in boarding school.”  I quirked my eyebrow for extra effect.  It was a game of odds with Lana.  Some days she cared if she got into trouble and others she didn’t.  That was because nine times out of ten she could lie her way out of trouble.  Lucky for me, today she couldn’t be bothered.


“Touché little sister.  I won’t breathe a word as long as you don’t stick to my ass all night.”


“You have no ass.  Therefore, it won’t be a problem.”


“Don’t push it.  Ma said I could go out tonight.  I’ll give you a lift.  No guarantees about getting you home though.  I’m guessing you’re bringing your delinquent friend Saz with you?”


“Yup! And Mills.”


That frigid ass girl, Melissa, is actually coming out on a Friday night? This I got to see.”


“Mills is not frigid.  Just because she doesn’t drop her knickers at the first waggle of an eyebrow, like some people in this room, does not make her frigid!  Anyway hoebag, where’s Tara?”


Tara was Lana’s twin.  Tara was essentially what you would call a nerd.  She knew how to have fun but it had to fit into her carefully structured timetable between studying and working.  She put 100% effort into the first two so fun quite often came last on her list of priorities.


“I left Tara asleep on her desk.  I had the grace to remove her glasses but I’m hoping the crick in her neck she’s going to have tomorrow morning reminds her that she needs to take a break. “


We both snorted at that fantasy.  Tara sleeping at her desk was more of a routine than her actually sleeping in her bed.


“Anyway let’s get going before Moody Mara hears us and rains on both our parades.


Mara was the eldest out of the four of us.  She had no concept of the idea fun.  She didn’t even seem to take pleasure out of ratting us all to Ma and Pops when one of us had done something we definitely shouldn’t have.  And yes my parents were so special, or touched in the head as we like to put it, that they named their kids Mara, Tara, Lana and Dana.  We’re still discussing whether they actually smoked crack while they were naming us.


When it comes to our names, this is the only time I’ll speak ill of my parents.  They died in a car crash when I was eighteen months old.  Tara and Lana were three and Mara was six.  Mara is the only one of us with any concrete memories of them.  I guess that’s why she’s so moody.  It’s like her childhood died with them and she just decided she didn’t want to have fun without them. 


We went to live with mum’s parents after who we called Ma and Pops.  They’re amazing.  Put aside the three times per week church attendance and you couldn’t want more in grandparents.  Ma loved us and raised us like we were their own children and Pops was the best dad anyone could ask for.


I felt Lana’s eyes on me silently ushering me out of my thoughts and to hurry up.


Once we’d picked up Saz and Mills and got to the party, Lana left us to go and find Karl, her boyfriend for this season.  The three of us went to go grab drinks and make our way to where the DJ was so we could throw down some moves while the alcohol took effect.  What this really meant was once the alcohol hit us, Saz and I would dance similar to strippers without a pole and Mills would slowly move away so that people didn’t think she was with us.


Two hours in and the party was absolutely heaving. Mills hadn’t left us on the dance floor alone as there were too many people for her to move, not that we had space to gyrate as much as we wanted to.  Anthony’s house was massive but it still felt like a sweatbox and I needed another drink fast.  I tried to shout to Saz and Mills that I was going to get us some more drinks and gave up after the fourth time, hoping that they understood.  I tried my best to maneuver my way through the moving bodies occasionally receiving an unwelcomed grope on the way.  I finally reached the kitchen where it was a lot cooler but I could still hear the music, though not as loud, and feel the bass from the speakers.  There were people sitting on the floor who had clearly lost the battle with their drink and others that Tara would have described as coming pretty close to fornicating on the worktops.  The kitchen was an interior designer’s dream with stainless steel appliances and a built in fridge freezer and dishwasher.  If Anthony’s mum knew how her kitchen was being treated, I’m pretty sure she’d be crying.  That said, I don’t think his mum actually uses the kitchen other than to make margheritas.


“You look as disgusted as I feel.” came a deep voice from behind me.


I turned to see an unfamiliar face.  In our small town of Morne Valley, everyone pretty much knew everyone else.  Morne Valley was a little village not far out from the city of London.  You could reach the city centre within an hour if you had good connections by train or not too much traffic travelling by car.  This was someone I had definitely never met before.  He wasn’t overly tall, maybe five foot eleven at a push, with short black spiky hair and the darkest eyes I’d ever seen.  He wasn’t tanned at all but I still couldn’t class him as pale.  The more I studied his face, the more his features seemed familiar but I was certain I had never seen him before. I was going to take a guess at him being eighteen as I was sixteen and he only looked slightly older than me.  Beneath his jacket, I assumed by the way he stood, was a lean muscular frame.  His smile was killer and he was directing it straight at me, which was when I realised I hadn’t responded to his statement and was slightly gaping.


“Yeah.  I mean it’s a party not an orgy festival.  They could at least wait until they got home.  And someone’s got to clean this kitchen.”  I inwardly rolled my eyes at myself.  Of all the things to say, I’ve got to highlight my concern for the cleanliness of the kitchen.  Killer smile guy laughed.  Genuinely laughed.  When he finished, he smiled at me a little longer to the point I was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable but then held out his hand and introduced himself.


BOOK: The Perfection of Love
6.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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