"I have never seen a soul as pure as yours."

She was 17, a beauty queen and the face of youth. He was a solid 40 but he acted so naughty, the epitome of experience. She bites cherries while he bites her. From his freedom land of the seventies to her new age millennium. This is Ultraviolence.

On Lola Grey's 13th birthday, she meets a family friend; 28-year-old Adam Jones. Adam and Lola become good friends. Despite the difference in age and living conditions, they share the same sense of loneliness and find that they can tell each other anything. Then, Lola finds out that her family wants to move from Berkeley, California to Seattle, Washington. What will Lola do when she has to move away from her best friend?

She was intoxicating like summer wine. Addictive as a drug. She had him wrapped around her little finger, just the way she liked it. Her father was clueless, as she was calling another man Daddy.

She was so... pure, beautiful, young. Every time I saw her bat those soft eyelashes at me I knew... with all of my body, that I wanted to drain every last sip of purity out of her. One lick at a time.

When she waltzed past him, it was sheer rapture. Her skin, her eyes, her hair, he couldn't get enough of her just with that one glance. He was insatiable for her after that brief moment. One could say that his desire was even...bestial. Charles always thought himself to be one of those typical, affable salarymen, he was only working at some well-ranking high school after his venture to take over his father's multi-million hedge fund didn't pan out so well. But after he laid his eyes on her, she became his sin, his soul..his very own Lolita-esque heart-shaped box of secrets, constantly wrapped up pretty in pink.

In 1982, a lonesome Man looks for a place to stay after a traumatic event. He finds a Family that welcome him with open arms, but his attention doesn't go to them, it goes to ~her~ and only her. When he finds her, he didn't know that their story would be like a real life Vladimir Nabokov book, but with a dark and sinister twist... *not a love story*

Charlotte. Sweet little doll, porcelain angel. Edgar de Loughrey did not have a thing for little girls. He had been with women, made love to a few of them. He'd looked at women plenty and seen enough in the nude to know he was attracted. He did not fancy little girls. . . . But he fancied this one. [ Not for everyone. There is a big age gap ]