| Author: | Skye Eagleday | ISBN: | 9781301107483 |
| Publisher: | Skye Eagleday | Publication: | August 5, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords | Language: | English |
| Author: | Skye Eagleday |
| ISBN: | 9781301107483 |
| Publisher: | Skye Eagleday |
| Publication: | August 5, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords |
| Language: | English |
Dolly's Brothel (Erotic Paranormal Ghost Story)
It's 1975 and The House of Massati has the finest working girls (and boys) this side of Bangkok. Dolly is the fifth generation owner. But while elegant, the haunted House holds many dark secrets and established rules some have difficulty following. This has lead Cullen to be banished, forced to sell himself once more on the streets of San Francisco. He's trying to seduce Misty, Dolly's most desired girl, to leave the Dollhouse and run away with him to a new life. Three times he has asked to marry her, and three times she has refused. But the cold foggy night will bring both answers and closure to the three when Cullen receives an unexpected response. (An adults only story of erotic suspense. Contains explicit sexual behavior one would expect for a tale set in a brothel.)
Excerpt:
She poured herself a scotch in a Baccarat glass that had been part of the set Daddy had brought back from the trip to Paris in 1953. It was the last one. Part of getting older was knowing few things last forever, and knowing what would happen next. When you're pushing thirty—Misty's age—you believed people could change. When you got older, you knew from experience people seldom did. Dolly sipped the single malt and let the warmth fill her. Five generations of running a brothel had passed on the genes of knowing there were two truths of humanity—we all have sex, and we all die. How many times had Daddy said that—although in a lot rougher language?
“That's never going to come out,” she heard her father's voice from the fireplace. As always, his voice sounded as if he were flaking bits of it off as he spoke. She smelled the stale smoke of Salems. She sipped the scotch and pretended she hadn't heard him. Pretended she didn't smell him. “Down to the last one of the Baccarat highballs I see—how many of the Waterford crystal wine glasses have you managed to keep whole?” Dolly gave up pretending and set the scotch down as gently as a lizard's lick.
“What do you think I should do about Cullen?” she asked the Baccarat. The scotch, when she looked closely, was a surprising number of colors, layers of colors. “He is destroying Misty and the business.”
“Never give all of your love or your money to one man,” she heard from the fireplace. “Isn't that what your mother taught you to say?”
Dolly picked up the shining crystal and took another sip. The glass was heavy and she rubbed her thumb against the diamond pattern. “She told me that the summer we spent in Murray, Utah. That was the summer you were focused on Cecilia.”
The fireplace was silent for a few minutes. Dolly emptied the glass and slowly turned it in her hand. “It was a busy summer,” Daddy's voice sighed. “One day you might ask what Cecelia offered that your mother did not.” Dolly didn't turn, but his voice shifted, so it was now behind her chair. “Cullen is street trash. He didn't belong here in the first place. If you were thinking with more than your heart, you would have known that. You hoped YOU would change him, but he just went back to what he was. How many times do I have to tell you this is a business? A business has rules. If you can't follow the rules, you don't belong in the business.”
Silent Maria moved across the room, a damp towel in her brown hand. She knelt and patiently scrubbed the stained carpet.
“Some stains don't come out,” Dolly said, leaving the glass on the table as she headed towards her bedroom.
Cullen tried not to pull away when the John stroked his hair. “Your hair is the color of an egg yolk,” the John whispered. Cullen didn't say anything. His mouth was busy.
Dolly's Brothel (Erotic Paranormal Ghost Story)
It's 1975 and The House of Massati has the finest working girls (and boys) this side of Bangkok. Dolly is the fifth generation owner. But while elegant, the haunted House holds many dark secrets and established rules some have difficulty following. This has lead Cullen to be banished, forced to sell himself once more on the streets of San Francisco. He's trying to seduce Misty, Dolly's most desired girl, to leave the Dollhouse and run away with him to a new life. Three times he has asked to marry her, and three times she has refused. But the cold foggy night will bring both answers and closure to the three when Cullen receives an unexpected response. (An adults only story of erotic suspense. Contains explicit sexual behavior one would expect for a tale set in a brothel.)
Excerpt:
She poured herself a scotch in a Baccarat glass that had been part of the set Daddy had brought back from the trip to Paris in 1953. It was the last one. Part of getting older was knowing few things last forever, and knowing what would happen next. When you're pushing thirty—Misty's age—you believed people could change. When you got older, you knew from experience people seldom did. Dolly sipped the single malt and let the warmth fill her. Five generations of running a brothel had passed on the genes of knowing there were two truths of humanity—we all have sex, and we all die. How many times had Daddy said that—although in a lot rougher language?
“That's never going to come out,” she heard her father's voice from the fireplace. As always, his voice sounded as if he were flaking bits of it off as he spoke. She smelled the stale smoke of Salems. She sipped the scotch and pretended she hadn't heard him. Pretended she didn't smell him. “Down to the last one of the Baccarat highballs I see—how many of the Waterford crystal wine glasses have you managed to keep whole?” Dolly gave up pretending and set the scotch down as gently as a lizard's lick.
“What do you think I should do about Cullen?” she asked the Baccarat. The scotch, when she looked closely, was a surprising number of colors, layers of colors. “He is destroying Misty and the business.”
“Never give all of your love or your money to one man,” she heard from the fireplace. “Isn't that what your mother taught you to say?”
Dolly picked up the shining crystal and took another sip. The glass was heavy and she rubbed her thumb against the diamond pattern. “She told me that the summer we spent in Murray, Utah. That was the summer you were focused on Cecilia.”
The fireplace was silent for a few minutes. Dolly emptied the glass and slowly turned it in her hand. “It was a busy summer,” Daddy's voice sighed. “One day you might ask what Cecelia offered that your mother did not.” Dolly didn't turn, but his voice shifted, so it was now behind her chair. “Cullen is street trash. He didn't belong here in the first place. If you were thinking with more than your heart, you would have known that. You hoped YOU would change him, but he just went back to what he was. How many times do I have to tell you this is a business? A business has rules. If you can't follow the rules, you don't belong in the business.”
Silent Maria moved across the room, a damp towel in her brown hand. She knelt and patiently scrubbed the stained carpet.
“Some stains don't come out,” Dolly said, leaving the glass on the table as she headed towards her bedroom.
Cullen tried not to pull away when the John stroked his hair. “Your hair is the color of an egg yolk,” the John whispered. Cullen didn't say anything. His mouth was busy.
