Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
The eyes of a woman in love.
It made me sick to my stomach.
“And this is his fucking book cover, is it?”
She nodded. “I didn’t know before today, I promise.”
I threw the phone back at her, angry fingers jabbing at the keys on my laptop. I looked up the piece of shit’s website, and Faye’s eyes took my breath for the second fucking time.
Topaz was reading the text aloud before I found it on screen.
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
Magpie is a broken bird. Spinning in Master Blake’s web in the heart of the Veneto mountains, her fate will play out on stage, during Blake’s most dangerous show of all.
His pretty bird is broken, but her beautiful pain only serves to bring her closer to Him. Her Master. Her Lover. Her everything.
Fourth instalment in the acclaimed Pretty Bird Series.
Warning: Contains aspects of dominance and submission which may disturb some readers. Dubious consent, multiple partners and sadomasochism. Please enjoy responsibly.
“What the fuck is this?”
“I’ve read the others,” Topaz said. “All of them. They’re pretty hardcore.”
I started clicking around the screen. “Where can I get a copy of this fucking book?”
“You can’t,” she said, simply. “It’s not out yet. You wouldn’t understand it anyway, it’s not a standalone. You have to start with book one.”
“Where can I get a copy of book fucking one then?”
“Amazon. Do you have a Kindle?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Do I look like the kind of guy who has a fucking Kindle, Topaz?”
I was scaring her. She twiddled her thumbs together. “I could lend you mine.”
“Please.” I stared at Sir fucking Blackthorne’s author picture. Some piece of shit black and white thing with his face hidden behind a Casanova mask. “How the fuck do I contact this prick?”
“You can’t,” she said. “He gets so much mail he has to employ a PR agency.”
I jabbed a finger at the cover on the screen. “This isn’t fucking happening, Topaz. This was a fucking mistake. If this thing goes to fucking print, I’ll sue the poncey prick for everything he’s got.”
“She must have given him permission, Mr Morgan. He’s not an idiot. His other covers were illustrations, bird cages and shackles and feathers.”
“She can damn well take her permission back then, can’t she?” I fixed her in a glare. “What does dubious consent mean?” She couldn’t even look at me. “Topaz, what the fuck does dubious consent mean?”
“I’m sorry, Mr Morgan, I don’t know what to say.”
I slammed my fist on the desk. “Tell me!”
“It’s … it’s dark erotica, forced submission that sometimes goes over the line.”
I put my head in my hands, temples thumping. “Get me that fucking Kindle, Topaz.” I looked across to the empty desk, and Faye’s handset sitting on top of it. “And while you’re at it, pass me that fucking phone as well.”
***
Chapter Six
Faye
I’d known it was inevitable, but still the sight of Topaz hunched over Andy’s desk while he blatantly tried to guess my mobile’s security PIN was enough to drain the blood from my face. So much for my happy little jaunt to the bank and back.
“You’ll never get it. It’s a totally random combination,” I announced.
Topaz shot upright with a gasp but Andy didn’t flinch.
“Now you’re back I can stop guessing,” he said. Topaz made some blathering excuses before he waved her from the room, but I was hardly listening. Andy waited until the door clicked shut before he skimmed my phone back across the desk. “I just need his number, I can handle the rest.”
“Handle what, exactly?”
His expression darkened as he turned his laptop screen in my direction. “This. This fucking... travesty.”
If he expected shock horror he was sure to be disappointed. The picture on screen was old news. I’d seen it, approved it and signed the thing off long before I left Italy.
“Thanks, but there’s really nothing to handle.”
The scowl was etched across his face. “And you’re happy with this, are you? Not bothered that your face is going to be on every dirty cow’s Kindle screen the planet over? He can fuck right off if he thinks he’s using this picture to sell his seedy little porno book.”
I didn’t even attempt to argue the literary beauty of Vincent’s work. It would have fallen on deaf ears. “I gave him permission,” I said. “In writing. Signed, sealed, case closed.”
“Is it fuck,” he said. “What’s his fucking number?”
I couldn’t help but smile at his zeal. “I signed it off, Andy. My signature.”
“Queen fucking Elizabeth could have signed it off for all I fucking care, Faye.”
I focused on the twitch at the corner of his perfect mouth. “You’d be wasting your breath.”
“Don’t be so sure about that.” He stared right at me. “Look me in the eye and tell me you want your face on his poxy book.”
“It’s not that simple...”