Nggak tahu kenapa dari duluuu banget jaman aku mulai baca dari komik, teenlit, metropop, harlequin, hingga novel terjemahan dan berakhir masuk ke lubang kenikmatan penuh dosa (baca: novel inggris) karena nggak sabar baca lanjutan novel terjemahan Indonesia, di pikiranku selaluu tertancap novel ini nih : THE MYTH BEHAVING BADLY :The Surrender of Persephone by Selena Kitt. Novel ini termasuk novel-novel generasi awal yang aku baca pas otak readingku masih kagok kagok kaya mobil mogok. Ya jelaslah, wong biasanya pakai bahasa Surabayaan dan tiba-tiba langsung dijejalin bacaan Inggris, nih otak langsung pout. hahahaa.. Inget inget aja ya, nggak selamanya mulus loh aku baca Inggris ini, inget deh kalo dulu aku selalu baca Inggris sambil buka kamus disebelah. Bingung jadinya mosok satu kalimat semuanya buka kamus. LOL.
Nah ini nih, My First Love, Buku ini termasuk kategori eroro BDSM loh, jadi buat yang matanya merah kalau baca genre ini disarankan liat Teletubies sama Sponge Bob saja. Saya juga penggemar mereka, dan bisa digunakan metode ini sambari baca genre Thriller dan Suspense juga. Sumpah melenceng beud.
Saya kasih cuplikan dari novel ini ya , dijamin nggak rugi deh kalo baca, bahasa inggrisnya juga nggak sulit kok, nggak pas baca gena showalter aja-aku sampai termehek mehek baca ngulang ngulang halaman.
Yang mau , bisa DOWNLOAD DISINI
A quick whiff of warm air over her cheek startled her, and she found herself staring into the steady eye of the blackest horse she had ever seen. She was so surprised, she didn’t think to panic or scream or run. She looked askance at the animal, reaching to pet its dark velvet nose as it moved its head to graze beside her. “Odd…Noire seems to like you.” The voice came from behind her, and she scrambled for her clothing, covering herself and flushing at the mere thought of what this new stranger might have seen. Still a little disoriented from the heat, she saw the horse had a mate. These horses led another team, all attached to a sleek black chariot that seemed to vibrate where it stood, next to a gaping hole in her field that hadn’t been there just moments before. Turning, she looked for the owner, but the chariot appeared empty. Where did the voice come from? She blinked fast when an immortal almost twice her size suddenly appeared as he removed a golden helmet from his head. He towered over her, blotting out the sun. “Sweet Persephone…or should I call you Sephie, like your girlfriends?” His smile was the brightest thing about him, and it appeared just briefly. “I…where…who are you? Where did you come from?” Persephone stumbled over her words, pulling her garment close around her slight frame and glancing across the fields. No possibility of rescuing figures in the distance marred the vibrant expanse of wildflowers, just a flood of rainbow color on an already bright palette. “Hephaestus made the helmet for me.” He hooked the strap over the edge of the chariot. “Turns anyone who wears it invisible. It’s a useful contraption.” He lifted his eyes to hers and she saw a deep, orange glow there that took her breath away. “What’s the matter? You don’t recognize me, Sephie?” He stepped closer to lift her chin. His hand was enormous, and it occurred to her, he could crush her skull within his fist if he wanted. Puzzled, she jerked her head away from his hold and then took an immediate step back. The horse behind her nickered and stomped at the disruption as she pressed against its flank. “Hades,” she whispered, the realization dawning. Her heart beat like a hummingbird in her breast. “Yes…hmm…unseemly nickname. Aidoneus, originally, and indeed, preferably. You, bright one, can call me Aidon. Few people do,” he admitted. He focused on at her bare shoulders, and his eyes traced the curve of her collarbone showing above the shimmering garb she had hastily drawn around her. “What are you doing…up here?” “Seem out of place, do I? Yes, well…perhaps.” He shrugged, leaning forward as if about to tell her a secret. “I came for you.” “Me?” Persephone’s eyes widened and her robes dropped along with her jaw. His eyes followed the slip of her gown down the slope of her breasts. “So, shall we?” He waved her toward the chariot. “The team isn’t used to being up top.” She smiled, confused and bemused, and then laughed. The light sound startled the horses and Noire reared. Aidon reached past Persephone’s head to grab the reins, pressing her between his chest and the horse’s flank as he did. Her head didn’t reach his shoulder. The black robes he wore smelled a little of burning leaves and, beneath that, another musky, earthy smell she wasn’t familiar with. It made her dizzy. He handed her the reins and winked. “Want to drive?”
“I don’t…I don’t understand.” She said the words and some vague memory of a dream she’d once had surfaced for a moment as she looked into his eyes. She didn’t have any more time to recall it, but some part of her remembered this, and knew, somehow had always known, that a man—this man—would be coming for her. “Tell you what…I’ll explain it on the way.” He swept her up over his shoulder in one swift motion and stepped onto the chariot. She was a small goddess, used to being tossed about, but she was shocked at how fast it was done. They sprang into his chariot, the earth yawning open. The last thing she saw of the world above was the golden locket in the grass, blazing a bright, angry blue. If only I hadn’t taken it off! Persephone tried to scream, but found she had no breath. She clung to his side for fear of falling into the black depths, hiding her face in alarm against his robes. He shifted around, securing her between the front of the chariot and his formidable bulk. She still couldn’t stand to look forward, seeing nothing but darkness in front of them. Instead, she stayed turned toward him, burying her face against him and holding fast with two pale, clenched fists. The horses’ hooves ran silent, as if speeding on air, but she knew it was black earth, the deep, rich soil the wildflowers thrived in that they tunneled through. Soon she couldn’t resist the temptation to see and turned her face, watching the earth give way to a thick, dark sediment. She was startled by the sound of hooves on gravel.
“Where are we going?” She was sure he couldn’t hear her over the sound of the horse’s hooves and the whirlwind rushing past their ears. “Paradise…” His voice was as low and tender as a kiss. “The center of the world.” When she felt his lips against her hair, his breath hot over her scalp, her stomach lurched. She had never been this close to a man before— her mother had made sure of that up until now. The thought of what he could do—what he might do, what she couldn’t stop him from doing—made her pulse race to match the horses’ thunder. Yet, there was a moist tingling under her robes. She flushed at her own response, and Aidon seemed to sense her conflict, pressing his hips forward into the curve of her behind. His voice filled with pride. “Your new home.”