Genre: New Adult (Fantasy Romance/Fractured Fairy Tale)
Date Published: April 26, 2015
Publisher: Self
“Evil poisons everyone. Period. Our mouths water when we sink our teeth into what we have always craved. Surrendering to our desires by biting off delectable piece of the forbidden fruit is nothing more than a meager confession: Poison tastes sinfully sweet,”—Confessions of the Big Apple Debutante, by blogger Miss Snow White.
Snow White Lies is the first book in the Twisted Fairy Tale Confessions series by Sarah J. Pepper was a retelling of Snow White. I loved the premise behind this story with it's dark and twisted nature, but I found myself lost among dwarves and details most of the time. The seven dwarves blended into one another more often then not. I had a hard time distinguishing who was who even though they had different powers, they were still too darn similar in personalities and actions. Also, Snow White was considered innocent. Now, I'm not sure what the definition of innocent was supposed to be within this world, but I certainly wouldn't have attached that word to her so it made the whole thing a little disjointed for me. I'll be honest. I'm not really sure what the heck was really going on. I loved the idea of a dark Snow White story, I just wish the execution of it had been different. Don't let my opinion sway you though. There is lots of love out there for this book. So, maybe I just didn't get it.
Snow White Lies by Sarah J. Pepper was kindly provided to me by the author for review. The opinions are my own.
I specialize in dark, paranormal romance – think “happy ever after” but with a twisted, dark chocolate center. Real-life romance isn’t only filled with hugs, kisses, unicorns, and rainbows. True-love can be more thoroughly described in times of darkness and tribulation. It’s in those harsh moments where you see what a person is truly capable of – both the good and bad. Sometimes prince-charming isn’t always on time, and the glass slipper is a little snug. However, it doesn’t mean Charming is not Mr. Right, and who says every shoe is the perfect fit?
"Warning: Addictive passion erupts from her mouthwatering descriptions" - recent review.
Sarah J. Pepper lives in South Dakota with her real-life prince charming. At a young age, she fell for paranormal books and now incorporates that genre with romance that thrives in the hearts of us all. When she’s not storytelling, she’s most likely biking, hoarding chocolate, or taking a bubble bath. Get a glimpse inside her head at www.peppersreadingcorner.com
"Forbidden Beloved" - Not everyone falls for the murderous prince charming with killer good looks, but Roxy hasn't ever been very lucky.
"Devil's Lullaby" -Cat craved his addictive kiss as much as she ached for his death.
To learn more about Sarah J. Pepper and her books, visit her website.You can also find her on Goodreads, Facebook, and Twitter.
Prologue
New York City, Date Unknown
Motorcycle exhaust and worn leather lingered on my chiffon curtains. The provocative scent was compliments of the unnamed vigilante who had stood in front of the balcony windows that looked over the Big Apple. The tainted city was particularly enchanting when the sun cast brilliant hues over the brilliant architecture built by our forefathers - by unremarkable commoners who’d had been long forgotten by all but one. One man had bore witness to the rise and fall of nations; witnessed queens and kings come in and out of power; and had washed more blood off his hands than any wartime criminal. Yet, he was never mentioned in textbooks, on the news, or God forbid, the tabloids. He might as well have been a ghost for he bore no name. He was the most unrenowned person alive; yet he pestered my every waking thought.
I peeked through the sheer curtain and wondered if he had seen the sunset tonight. The natural beauty of the skyline melted in with the industrial growth encompassing the city almost overshadowed the fact that the city was now diseased with black magic: alchemy of the Seventh degree.
Nevertheless, a girl of my stature could pretend the sickness enslaving the city did not exist. The fashion, propaganda, high-end lifestyle, limelight, and little white lies were enough to ignore the darkness that brewed beneath the penthouse window. Besides, half of the businesses paid dues to the White Industry. My industry. My credit cards had no balance limit because of the good fortune this city had given me.
Yet, I knew that he saw a different scene if he was gazing upon the city tonight. If I closed my eyes, I could almost picture him leaning against the bronzed casing of the window beside me. I envisioned him looking down at the citizens with a vengeful jealousy. They lived the lives they wanted. He did not.
Yet, he had come for me on his own accord.
That he was in my penthouse tonight was not to be mistaken with his newfound freedom. No, it was a simple coincidence that what he was ordered to do and what he so desperately sought were one in the same.
Me.
I let out a gasp when I caught a glimpse of him watching me from outside on the balcony. Blanketed by the shadows, he had blended in with the scene. His frozen breath lingered in with the industries’ smoke that capped the sky. By all means, he could hide in plain sight even though his robust stature suggested otherwise. I eyed his leather jacket, envious that it clung to his body instead of me.
Hunger had long since manifested in his light blue eyes when he gazed at me. I’d promised to slip into something more comfortable the next time we met, but nothing in my closet justified tonight’s significance. Hence, the blood-red hue of lipstick and pair of black Burberry heels had to do.
The mix of lust and the forbidden four letter word built between us until I could no longer stand it. I stepped out from behind the softness of the curtains and pushed open the oversized door. The harshness of the bitter cold air pricked my skin, but the cold was miniscule to the effect he had on me.
My choice in attire, or lack thereof, was met with unhinged approval in his eyes. His gaze dropped to my lips, and his body tightened. He was at war with himself; he was in battle with me. My arsenal was in the form of lipstick, and his were clenched tightly in his hands. One gripped a gun circa the Revolutionary War. The other clutched a bright red apple. Fate brought us together, but it would be his choice to comply the evilness that forced us against each other.
My stiletto daggers clicked against the icy floor as I approached him. For a city that never slept, everything else drowned out when I met him on the edge that overlooked the greatest city on Earth. A city that came with power; a city that thrived off of the almighty dollar; a city whose half restate that I inherited; a city that brewed with dark magic; and a city to which he had been condemned so long ago.
Without tearing his gaze from my lips, he handed me the apple. His cold hand lingered on mine until I punctured the fruit’s skin with my manicured nails. The juices dripped down my arm as I brought it to my lips.
“One bite,” he promised. His archaic Americana accent expelled the urgency in his voice with provocativeness that could not be matched.
I knew I shouldn’t do as he asked. The apple was laced with poison that would certainly be my undoing. Yet, to deny my cravings any longer would positively kill me.
The sweet apple burst in my mouth. As I swallowed the forbidden fruit, he closed the gap between us, taking what he desired. With the gun pressed up against my body, he stole a kiss from me - a kiss I had no intention of denying him.
With the gun’s nozzle resting against my skin, I dropped the lipstick stained apple. It fell off the edge of the balcony just as a gunshot broke though the stillness of the night.
New York City, Date Unknown
Motorcycle exhaust and worn leather lingered on my chiffon curtains. The provocative scent was compliments of the unnamed vigilante who had stood in front of the balcony windows that looked over the Big Apple. The tainted city was particularly enchanting when the sun cast brilliant hues over the brilliant architecture built by our forefathers - by unremarkable commoners who’d had been long forgotten by all but one. One man had bore witness to the rise and fall of nations; witnessed queens and kings come in and out of power; and had washed more blood off his hands than any wartime criminal. Yet, he was never mentioned in textbooks, on the news, or God forbid, the tabloids. He might as well have been a ghost for he bore no name. He was the most unrenowned person alive; yet he pestered my every waking thought.
I peeked through the sheer curtain and wondered if he had seen the sunset tonight. The natural beauty of the skyline melted in with the industrial growth encompassing the city almost overshadowed the fact that the city was now diseased with black magic: alchemy of the Seventh degree.
Nevertheless, a girl of my stature could pretend the sickness enslaving the city did not exist. The fashion, propaganda, high-end lifestyle, limelight, and little white lies were enough to ignore the darkness that brewed beneath the penthouse window. Besides, half of the businesses paid dues to the White Industry. My industry. My credit cards had no balance limit because of the good fortune this city had given me.
Yet, I knew that he saw a different scene if he was gazing upon the city tonight. If I closed my eyes, I could almost picture him leaning against the bronzed casing of the window beside me. I envisioned him looking down at the citizens with a vengeful jealousy. They lived the lives they wanted. He did not.
Yet, he had come for me on his own accord.
That he was in my penthouse tonight was not to be mistaken with his newfound freedom. No, it was a simple coincidence that what he was ordered to do and what he so desperately sought were one in the same.
Me.
I let out a gasp when I caught a glimpse of him watching me from outside on the balcony. Blanketed by the shadows, he had blended in with the scene. His frozen breath lingered in with the industries’ smoke that capped the sky. By all means, he could hide in plain sight even though his robust stature suggested otherwise. I eyed his leather jacket, envious that it clung to his body instead of me.
Hunger had long since manifested in his light blue eyes when he gazed at me. I’d promised to slip into something more comfortable the next time we met, but nothing in my closet justified tonight’s significance. Hence, the blood-red hue of lipstick and pair of black Burberry heels had to do.
The mix of lust and the forbidden four letter word built between us until I could no longer stand it. I stepped out from behind the softness of the curtains and pushed open the oversized door. The harshness of the bitter cold air pricked my skin, but the cold was miniscule to the effect he had on me.
My choice in attire, or lack thereof, was met with unhinged approval in his eyes. His gaze dropped to my lips, and his body tightened. He was at war with himself; he was in battle with me. My arsenal was in the form of lipstick, and his were clenched tightly in his hands. One gripped a gun circa the Revolutionary War. The other clutched a bright red apple. Fate brought us together, but it would be his choice to comply the evilness that forced us against each other.
My stiletto daggers clicked against the icy floor as I approached him. For a city that never slept, everything else drowned out when I met him on the edge that overlooked the greatest city on Earth. A city that came with power; a city that thrived off of the almighty dollar; a city whose half restate that I inherited; a city that brewed with dark magic; and a city to which he had been condemned so long ago.
Without tearing his gaze from my lips, he handed me the apple. His cold hand lingered on mine until I punctured the fruit’s skin with my manicured nails. The juices dripped down my arm as I brought it to my lips.
“One bite,” he promised. His archaic Americana accent expelled the urgency in his voice with provocativeness that could not be matched.
I knew I shouldn’t do as he asked. The apple was laced with poison that would certainly be my undoing. Yet, to deny my cravings any longer would positively kill me.
The sweet apple burst in my mouth. As I swallowed the forbidden fruit, he closed the gap between us, taking what he desired. With the gun pressed up against my body, he stole a kiss from me - a kiss I had no intention of denying him.
With the gun’s nozzle resting against my skin, I dropped the lipstick stained apple. It fell off the edge of the balcony just as a gunshot broke though the stillness of the night.
"Warning: Addictive passion erupts from her mouthwatering descriptions" - recent review.
Sarah J. Pepper lives in South Dakota with her real-life prince charming. At a young age, she fell for paranormal books and now incorporates that genre with romance that thrives in the hearts of us all. When she’s not storytelling, she’s most likely biking, hoarding chocolate, or taking a bubble bath. Get a glimpse inside her head at www.peppersreadingcorner.com
"Forbidden Beloved" - Not everyone falls for the murderous prince charming with killer good looks, but Roxy hasn't ever been very lucky.
"Devil's Lullaby" -Cat craved his addictive kiss as much as she ached for his death.
To learn more about Sarah J. Pepper and her books, visit her website.You can also find her on Goodreads, Facebook, and Twitter.
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