November 3, 2016 by evesummers
Samuel Clearwater, A.K.A Preppy, likes bowties, pancakes, suspenders, good friends, good times, good drugs, and a good f*ck.
He’s worked his way out from beneath a hellish childhood and is living the life he’s always imagined for himself. When he meets a girl, a junkie on the verge of ending it all, he’s torn between his feelings for her and the crippling fear that she could be the one to end the life he loves.
Andrea ‘Dre’ Capulet is strung out and tired.
Tired of living for her next fix. Tired of doing things that make her stomach turn. Tired of looking in the mirror at the reflection of the person she’s become. Just when she decides to end it all, she meets a man who will change the course of both their lives forever.
And their deaths.
For most people, death is the end of their story.
For Preppy and Dre, death was only the beginning.
This is the fifth book in the King Series and it’s meant to be read after Soulless.
Themes: addiction, blackmail
Reviewer’s note: this does not standalone, and it is vital (and highly recommended) to go back and read the entire series first.
I never knew true fear until I met pure evil. He wore a smile and a bow tie.
Finally, finally, we get to delve into the depths of Preppy’s mind, and after that humdinger of an ending in Soulless, it was needed more than anything. And I’m also sounbelievably excited that there will be three Preppy instalments (and I’m eagerly awaiting the next part after the humdinger of an ending here). Now I’ve got that gushing preamble and fangirling over Frazier over with, onto the review.
Frazier’s greatest strength is her development and creation of characters. All through this series, we’ve had strength after strength, with both the males and females, but Preppy transcends them all. There isn’t quite another character as vulgar, hilarious and dark as him, and this instalment only serves to increase my love of him. I was immediately wrapped up in the plot, and the relationship between him and Dre.
For most people death was the end. For me, it was only the beginning.
This was largely relationship-driven, with very little external plot, but the isolation really worked. It reflected Preppy’s own isolation of this part of his life amongst his friends, and the seeds for the climax were sown ever so delicately towards the beginning, enough that the big unfolding drama came as a bit of a surprise, rather than falling into predictability.
The sex scenes were, as ever, totally fucked up and totally hot – but, I have to put this out there, I was expecting something even worse and was slightly disappointed when it didn’t happen. Yes, there was a mild case of somnophilia early on, and a fair bit of choking, dubcon and general aggression, but from the previous books in the series I was expecting darker than dark. Blood, more pain, that sort of thing. Hopefully this will pick up in the two future instalments.
This wasn’t about me or my pleasure. This wasn’t sex. This was a motherfucking exorcism.
A worthy, eagerly-awaited instalment in the King series, Preppy, part 1, doesn’t fail to deliver Frazier’s typical angst and sex-heavy darkness, this time isolated from a wider plot. Although not as sexually dark as expected, Preppy’s complex characterisation alone maintains the strength and interest into the outcome of this ongoing saga.
“No! I hate you,” she spat, as I continued to tug her beside me.
“Good, you can hate me while I fuck you,” I said. “But first things first. My lesson obviously didn’t take in that brain of yours. You want what you want and I can’t stop you,” I said, as we approached the train tracks which were elevated on a mound of gravel several feet off the ground. The warning lights flashed orange, the neon reflective barriers dropped down to cover the service road, while the bells indicating an approaching train clanged away. “And since I can’t stop you, I’m going to help you out. Bullet in the head was so three hours ago. I’ve got something even better in mind now.”
“Wait. What?” she asked, her teeth chattering. “You…you wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t what?” I said, turning around to face her, almost losing my footing when I noticed the trail of dried tears on her cheeks. I looked away for a fraction of a second to regain my composure. “You think I wouldn’t kill someone?” I cocked an eyebrow. “You already know that I’ve been there, done that, bought the motherfucking t-shirt, doll.” Her eyes went wide and she made a move to step back. “Oh no, Doc, I read your letter and I saw what you wanted. And remember, I’m nothing if not accommodating.”
When I pulled her to climb the gravel mound her knees locked up so I bent over and picked her up by the waist, tossing her over my shoulder, carrying her onto the tracks while she beat on my back with her closed fists. When I got to the top I set her down roughly and she fell backwards onto her ass, bracing herself with her hands against the large pieces of gravel under the tracks.
The whistle of the train blew in the distance. It wouldn’t be long now. Dre made a move to stand up, but that wasn’t what I had in mind. I bent down and pushed on her chest, spreading her tiny frame across the tracks. I crawled on top of her, pinning her down with my thighs. I leaned over her, my chest to hers as we both breathed rapidly. She struggled underneath me to get up, pushing at my chest, but I wouldn’t budge. “Why the struggle, Doc? This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
She glanced up at me as the train whistled again. Her gaze flipped to her right, where the single yellow light from the train emerged from around the corner, shining brighter and brighter as it chugged closer and closer. For a moment she stopped struggling, looking back and forth from the train to me.
“So what, you’re gonna die too?” she asked, hoping to appeal to my sense of self preservation.
I shrugged. “I get bored easily, maybe the devil will make me his errand boy or something.”
“Preppy, this isn’t funny. Get up and get off the fucking tracks,” she said, her concern shifting from herself to me.
I shook my head and yawned. She wiggled underneath me, and although there was a train barreling toward us my cock once again stirred to life. Maybe I should just rip down her panties and push inside of her. Train or no train, it would be one fuck of a way to go out.
“You have to choose, Doc,” I said, making my voice as serious as I was capable. “Life?” I asked, screaming over the sound of the train screeching against the track. I pushed my hard cock against her core and she gasped. Her trembling turned into a shiver, her mouth fell open. I glanced to the side at the blinding light of the approaching train as it bathed us both in a tunnel of light. I leaned down, so close that my lips were a whisper above hers, as I shouted, “Life? Or death? What’s it gonna be, Doc?” My hair blew around my face as the light grew brighter and brighter. “Answer the fucking question!” I demanded, my hands squeezing her shoulders, my fingers digging roughly into her skin. “DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING DIE?”
With only seconds left until we became shredded under the train, Dre closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened them again they were glistening, fresh tears spilling from the edges.
She started to speak, her lips forming the beginning of the word, but before it could fully leave her lips I stood, pulling her up with me. I lifted Dre into my arms and took a running leap off the tracks, my legs flailing in the air as we fell the seven or so feet. Dre’s decision still on her lips, her scream surrounding the air around us as we crashed down into the field.
“I wanna liiiiiiiiiiiivvvvvveeeeee.”