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336 pages, Hardcover
First published April 1, 2012
None of the girls was asleep, drugged, playing, waiting.
They were dead.
They had been killed here.
She wanted to be horrified. It seemed sick to be jealous, too, but she was. It hurt to know he’d loved so many other girls; that she was not special, not unique.
“I’m not allowed to ride in my friends’ cars. I’m not allowed to get my license until I’m eighteen. I’m not allowed to date. Not allowed to watch R-rated movies. Not allowed to go for walks after dark. Not allowed to play with sharp objects. The list goes on and on.”In other news: WELCOME TO MY CHILDHOOD. Mira, you seriously just described the typical high school years of an Asian teenager with overprotective parents. You just described MY teenaged years. Did I ever fucking run away from home because of this? Fucking no. Because my parents would have beaten my ass. You are a fucking ungrateful little bitch.
It was one in the morning and she was alone in a strange city, with her duffel bag next to her, a play cracked open in front of her—and she had nowhere to go.Mira is 15 years old.
This was not the triumphant homecoming she’d imagined.
Casinos were open all night. She’d figured she could sit in the café, maybe doze off with her head on the table, and no one would care. But now that she’d been there three hours, Mira was starting to think her predicament was obvious. That some gambler would see a “helpless” girl in a frilly blouse and shorts and hit on her. Or some slot-playing grandma would spot a “runaway” and call the police. Or both.Once upon a time, obvious fact is obvious.
She pressed the handkerchief to her mouth, and when she pulled it away, Mira saw that the cloth was full of sodden flowers: shiny-wet violets, tiny daisies, delicate pink bleeding hearts. All fresh and flecked with blood.
Mira’s forehead wrinkled with confusion. Sometimes this place was just too weird.Oh, my goodness goshness. Weird! That must be how you describe a place where fairy tale tropes come to life, right? Magic exists! Fairy tales exist! Is it fantastic?! Is it extraordinary?! Is it incredulous? Wild beyond all boundaries of imagination?
Her cheek burned like she’d been lying in the sun too long, and she stood perfectly still, not wanting to break the spell.After a few days of knowing each other, they share a bed in his hotel room. He gropes her boobs.
His hand grazed her breast, and her breath caught in her throat.
...the bolt on the door had been breached, and the door had been flung open and slammed hard against the wall. A slender, dark figure moved swiftly through the room—Appropriate reaction:
And pounced on the bed.
Mira settled back and did her best to calm down. Maybe Felix would punch Blue for her later.Why do something yourself when there's a big, strong man who can take care of it for you!!!!!!
She wanted to do something, to show him she could be natural at this, but—she couldn’t. Her body had gone rigid with apprehension.She shouldn't be feeling guilty for rejecting his advances.
She wandered out into the empty suite, trying hard not to cry. Her embarrassment from last night came flooding back.Are you fucking serious?! MOTHERFUCKER! Oh my god, this is so wrong!
Mira pouted at him. It was obvious there was something he wasn’t telling her.NO SHIT, SHERLOCK. Oh, and she has plans for this town. You know how Rick in The Walking Dead has...stuff...things...to do? Mira is much of the same mindset.
There are things I need to do here, and I intend to do them.”OH, THINGS! MANY MANY THINGS! So specific.
“Um, little animals flock to him like he’s made of candy.”They don't keep any of this shit back. They talk about curses, they talk about spells.
“What’s all this curse talk?” Mira murmured to Freddie.How the fuck is it that this town is so hidden away from everyone in the outside world when the inhabitants don't bother to keep it a secret?
“Just a joke,” Freddie said, flashing an unconvincing smile.
“You know, you are the most...despicable person I’ve ever met.” Mira’s fingers tightened around the Cinderella’s Secret bag. “You don’t even know me, but you insist on being a jerk to me every chance you get.”The Bad Boy who secretly likes her.
“I didn’t say he wants to like you. Just that he does. Maybe because you act like you don’t like him, so he feels a little safer."The Nice Guy who is eager to do anything for Mira.
“Would you like me to carry your bag?” Freddie asked. He looked a little guilty—but hopeful, too.And the handsome, Mysterious Guy, too-beautiful-to-be-real man she can't stop thinking about. Who's a statutory-rapist-to-be.
“No.”
“But I’d like to do you favors.”
She threw her arms around his neck, swayed toward him, off balance, and kissed him violently, possessively. Come back, she thought. Stay with me.Mira is 15 years old.
“I bought—a sexy nightgown,” she said. “Do you want to see it?”
But the one thing she hadn’t expected to find was a kiss that could destroy her. A kiss that—if it hadn’t ended in time—could have been her last.
She shivered all over at the memory. Both terrified and wanting it to happen again.
"At home," she began haltingly, "when my godmothers were gone, I used to pretend that my parents were there. I'd imagine them doing normal things, like cooking, or watching old movies with me, or asking what I did at school. I guess because... I felt less lonely that way. I could pretend there wasn't a hole in me. But when I'm with you, I don't need them. I want what's real." (page 143)
"You know, I don't usually know the girls he likes. Not like this. I look the other way most of the time. But I met you first. I knew you first. I wanted you first." (Blue to Mira about his brother Felix, page 208)
Birthdays were wretched, delicious things when you lived in Beau Rivage. The clocks struck midnight, and presents gave way to magic.Just like a true fairy tale, Kill Me Softly is so much more than what the surface would have you expect, and it is as much a mish-mash of fairy tale characters and themes as it is an examination and sometimes a deconstruction of many common fairy tale elements. What if you're locked into a fate you can't control? What if you try to fight against it, only to be forced into playing out your destiny by outside forces? What would that do to a person? Would you dread the inevitable, would you embrace your role wholeheartedly...or would you try to forge your own fate even though doing so might end up being pointless and fruitless?
Curses bloomed. [...]
Girls became victims and heroines.
Boys became lovers and murderers.
And sometimes . . . they became both.