Countdown To Killing Kurtis
Lauren Rowe
June 15, 2015
Book Description:
I do love my husband. To death. I love him so much that I’ve waited a whole year (minus one day) for Killing Kurtis Day to arrive. Tomorrow it will finally be here and I’m giddy with anticipation. Don’t judge me, you don’t know the whole story. I reckon if you were in my shoes, you’d kill your husband, too.
**Readers 18+ due to adult content and situations**
Add it to Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25378932-countdown-to-killing-kurtis?from_search=true&search_version=service_impr
Buy Links:
Excerpt:
Chapter 1
Hollywood, California, 1992
20 Years Old
1 Day Before Killing Kurtis
My head bangs against the wall as Kurtis has his way with me, groaning and grunting all the while. I can sense he’s reaching his limit and can’t hold out much longer.
“Baby,” he moans, his voice straining.
I turn my face into his ear and exhale sharply, making sure my breathing seems ragged and desperate, as if, despite my best efforts at maintaining my composure, I just can’t control myself. Of course, my dear husband, only you bring out the wide-eyed little girl in me, the girl who believes in happily ever afters and soul mates. I roll my eyes, even as my skull bangs against the wall with a loud thud.
The vast majority of the time, something as simple as panting in Kurtis’ ear does the trick and sends him over the edge. But not this time.
Bang, bang, bang. My head continues its assault on the wall of our hotel room.
“Oh, Kurtis,” I blurt loudly, taking great care to infuse my voice with breathless excitement. And then, because Kurtis absolutely loves it when I talk Texas, I bring my lips right to his ear, blow out a puff of warm air, and whisper, in my most exaggerated twang, “Goodness gracious, sugar.”
That ought to do the trick.
I wait.
He’s moaning and grunting like a hog in slop, but undeniably hanging on. Well, hells bells. Looks like I’m gonna have to work a little harder than usual to lead my blind pig of a husband to an acorn tonight. I make a noise like my insides are being split in two by pleasure so intense, it hurts—and then, just because I like wearing belts and suspenders, I bite his earlobe, too. Hard.
Yep, that does it. Hallelujah. Kurtis lets out a mangled cry of release and relief, and I respond with my trademark I’m-just-so-in-love-with-you sigh. Just for the heck of it, since this is my final performance, after all, and I’m a big believer in “leaving it all out there,” I follow all of it up with a little shimmy—something I’ve only recently learned I’m supposed to do at times such as this—and then I arch my back with apparent pleasure like I’m finally, deliciously scratching a hard-to-reach itch.
I smirk. I should have been an actress. Oh wait—I am an actress. And a damn good one, too—destined to be seen by audiences in cineplexes all over the world.
Kurtis becomes still. His body goes slack. Beads of sweat cover his brow, his chest, his cheeks. If I didn’t hate my husband so much, I might actually think he’s handsome—quite handsome, indeed.
I smile dreamily at my dear husband, thinking about tomorrow—when he’ll finally be dead.
“You’re amazing, baby,” Kurtis says, grinning like a possum with a sweet potato.
“Oh, Kurtis,” I squeal. In a sudden and unexpected fit of genuine glee, I throw my head back and laugh with abandon. Tomorrow is finally Killing Kurtis Day, and I’m bursting at the seams about it.
Kurtis kisses my nose. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you, too, Kurtis,” I reply. And it’s true. I do love Kurtis—that is, if you define love as that hard-to-pin-down sensation of anticipation and longing you get as you count down the days, then hours, and then minutes until your loved one is cold and dead as he so richly deserves to be. What a thrill—a turn-on, even, if I’m being honest—to be so very close now, so very, very close, after waiting a tortuous year minus one day for his well-deserved fate to come. Being on the eve of his one-way departure from planet earth, I feel somewhat hot and bothered, actually. Hey now, being so close to Happy Killing Kurtis Day is getting me hotter than a stolen tamale. I suddenly and enthusiastically kiss my husband’s mouth, and he plunges his tongue into mine in reply.
“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, his brawny body instantly responding to my surprising invitation. “Again?”
“Again,” I mutter.
Might as well send the fucker off with a smile on his stupid, lying face.
Our Review:
Reviewed by Donna ~ 5 stars
***ARC received for an honest review***
“I reckon my husband better start thinking about giving his heart to Jesus, ‘cause his ass is mine.”
I was toying between a 4.5 and 5 for this book but for the sheer entertainment value I decided to go with a 5. I know you are probably thinking ENTERTAINMENT???? This is a book about KILLING YOUR HUSBAND!! Yes it is, but it is so much more than that. I think that Lauren Rowe has just invented her own genre...romantic comedy with a dark edge. I first stumbled across Lauren Rowe’s writing with her Club series, it was here that I fell in love with her wit and humour and her crazy writing style. Fans of The Club will love this too, yes it is vastly different but Lauren Rowe’s voice is prevalent throughout.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s so hot, I saw two trees bribing a dog on my way here.”
Buttercup was a Texas girl and was a one in a million, she was a character that you should surely hate but cannot help but love. Her internal dialogue, her wit and classic one liners had me in hysterics throughout this book; she truly was one of a kind. She hadn’t had the best start in life but her dad had groomed her into believing that she was perfect, she was beautiful...Marilyn Monroesque, she was worth the moon and stars and she should expect nothing less, after all she was Charlie Wilber’s daughter. She had had the worst start in life, trailer living with an out of work father and a mother who if she wasn’t working was constantly intoxicated. She had more or less brought herself up on meagre money and food, but she never lost her sense of worth. She was going to be a Hollywood actress; after all she was damn good at it.
“Well, like I always say, thank God I’m so gosh darned pretty.”
Buttercup was self-educated through reading books, she was a total book worm, but she definitely wasn’t a woman of the world. She was extremely sheltered and when events take a turn for the worse and she ends up in foster care, her life as she knew it was going to change and it is here that she meets Wesley. Buttercup has Wesley wrapped around her little finger, her acting skills coming into full force, but deep down you knew that what they had was real. Because of age differences they are separated when Buttercup hits eighteen, now on her way to Hollywood, she has to wait a year before Wesley can join her.
Hollywood is definitely not what Buttercup expected and her ideals and aspirations are shot down within minutes, but it is here that she is introduced to porn film maker Kurtis. Kurtis promises her the world and delivers practically nothing, just money and sex and nobody, and I mean nobody does that to Charlie Wilber’s daughter.
“Porno-King-Lying-Cheating-Bastard-Motherfucker-Sack-of-Shit-Husband-of-Mine-Kurtis-Asshole-Jackman is gonna find out exactly what that means in regards to him.”
This book was a rollercoaster, just when you think that you have it all figured out, something else happens that throws another spanner in the works. I was constantly guessing, constantly on the edge and is anyone who or what they seem? While you are so engrossed trying desperately to connect the dots the suspense and angst is perfectly balanced with a book full of laugh a minutes. There are characters that you should hate but cannot help but love and then there are characters that you love that you should hate. Lauren Rowe turns everything and everyone on their heads.
The character development was fantastic and their individuality shone through the pages. Even though I was horrified and mortified by Buttercup she was such a lovable character, you just couldn’t help it. She was crazy, annoying yet totally addictive. Her bubbly and outgoing disposition on one side and then dark, evil and deadly on the other, she truly was a Jekyll and Hyde character.
“Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit.”
As I said above, this is unlike anything I have read before, but I totally loved it. I thought I was going to get a dark, twisted, suspense type read but instead I got that with a huge helping of Buttercup. I highly recommend this entertaining read and if you haven’t read The Club series either, then pick them up too. Lauren Rowe is a truly talented author, a refreshing writing style that I could read forever.
“Might as well send the fucker off with a smile on his face.”
About the Author:
Lauren Rowe is the pen name of an author who lives in San Diego, CA with her family–and who typically writes in other genres. Due to the explicit sexuality, language and dark themes of THE CLUB TRILOGY, the author felt it best to use a pen name to avoid confusion with her other body of work.
Connect with Lauren
Website:
http://www.laurenrowebooks.com/
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lauren-Rowe/1498285267074016
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/laurenrowebooks
Instagram:
http://instagram.com/laurenrowebooks
Author Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9699494.Lauren_Rowe
