Gigi’s Monster Garage
Enjoy this peek inside:
“…It’s
not good for people to have to dwell on death.”
Dropping
her head to fiddle with her garage jumper’s zipper, she let out a breath.
“I worry
about that. Some girls get deactivated when they remember their past.
Frank-n-people can go mad when they remember how they died. They become obsessed
with who they were before.”
Taking his
eyes off the road for a moment, Fox wasn’t about to hear that. “Hell, no. I
won’t let them de-animate you. They’ll have to kill me before I let that
happen.”
In a fit
of sudden anger at the thought, Fox pulled to the side of the road with tires
screeching. The old truck’s body shook violently as it came to a stop and dust
from the roadside swirled around them.
The dirt
that wafted in through the air vents made her choke as she looked at Fox like he’d
lost his ever loven’ mind.
“Are you
nuts? What is wrong with you?”
“I won’t
let them do that to you. You’re not undead, Gigi. I’ve seen others like you.
Those other creations are just basically walking, talking drones. You are
nothing like them. You have a soul with real-life emotions and a beating
heart.”
“That’s
not true, Fox. I was made for Frank. He only wanted sex and a maid, so that was
my design. It may not have been exactly what he ordered, but it’s how it is.
Girls like me are made to serve. That’s it.”
“Really?
Then why is it you have free will? Why are you not still bowing down to his
every whim? And why the hell was he the only Frank-n-man to have a mate made
for him since the original Frankenstein monsters? I’ve seen enough of those sex
dolls to know they do whatever their masters say. You don’t call him master,
nor do you ever refer to him as anything other than an abusive asshole. That,
and whatever other choice word you can think of. If you were made for him, you
wouldn’t hate him so much.”
“So, I’m
just… stronger than the others. Maybe I’m a defective model.”
Fox nodded
in agreement to that because she was right. “Yeah, you are. And for whatever
reason, your creator let you be an individual, and that defect is absolute
perfection. Maybe he didn’t want to see you as Frank’s slave. For whatever
reason, he made you unique. Dare I say… human.”
Gigi
didn’t know what to say. He was right, but no one had ever spoken to her like
that. Even her friends never brought up her creator in such a way, except for
Bear. She had wondered why she was different and why didn’t Victor keep to his
sex doll plans.
“You’re
special, stitches. And I for one, am thankful for it. You’re a kindhearted
soul, and whatever you’re afraid of with Frank, I’ll fight to the death to
protect you. I know Bear would too because that guy sees you like his little
sister. He’s a good guy—you both are.”
“You barely
know me,” she pouted.
“Yeah, but
maybe I’m a man who sees you as more than just some sex toy to get off on.
Others might see you that way, but I don’t. If I ever had the pleasure of
making love to a woman as wonderful as you, it wouldn’t be about sex.”
“Oh yeah?
Then what would it be?” she asked with a snarky tone, but still wanting to
know.
Leaning
in, Fox traced his finger down her lightning bolt scar, making her eyes slam
shut expecting pain to come next. But it didn’t, making her curious as to why.
His fingers traced her scar like it was a precious beauty mark and a soft
breath escaped her lips when realizing he had no intention of hurting her.
When his lips grazed her earlobe, he answered,
“It would be pure ecstasy. I’d make you feel things no man ever could. I’d show
you what your heart wants, but you’re too afraid to see.”
About Author Loretta Kendall:
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