#WickedWednesday: A little tease from my latest #erotic #WIP
I used Grammarly to grammar check this post, because I have the worst grammar of any published author in history. (that may be a slight exaggeration…but only SLIGHT).
Lately, my Wicked Wednesday posts have featured WIPs or recent releases from my fellow author friends, so this week I decided to take a little time on the blog to tout my own work. Hey, it is my blog, after all *grins*
This week’s steamy excerpt is from one of my current WIPs (yes, I always have a few going at once because I am both bored easily and OCD). The story doesn’t yet have an official title yet, but I’m always a bit slow to decide on one of those, so that is nothing new. I do know it will be part of my “Catacombs” series…but even that name is open for negotiations.
This particular story is set in the early 18th century — London, England. And, like most of my erotic tales, contains elements of BDSM and the D/s lifestyle.
Here is the (unedited) opening:
London – August 1720
Justine took another long look at the large brick building. She checked the house number written on the slip of paper clenched in her shaking fingers and compared it to the bronze numbers affixed to the heavy oak door for a third time. Thirteen Barnaby Street, where her new job awaited. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected of the most exclusive men’s club in London, but the dimly lit, dank façade looming over her certainly wasn’t it. Unfortunately, the outward appearance of the building was of no consequence; it did not change what took place within its walls. Chauncey House was little more than a high-class brothel.
But, Justine had no place to complain. She should be grateful her tattered family name earned her anything at all. She knew far too many who’d not been as lucky. The frenzy of Exchange Alley had claimed more than the O’Malley family fortune in recent months. Despite the condemnation of King and government, and the dissolution of countless bubbles and other questionable speculative ventures, the promise of overnight riches continued to hold the entire populace captive. Each dawn brought new, inventive ways to invest your hard earned money. Choose wisely, and your worth could grow tenfold in a fortnight.
Her own father had not been immune, sinking his entire fortune into one of the numerous stock-jobbing schemes during the spring. Daniel O’Malley lost everything in the Alley’s tenuous lottery less than a week later. He’d shot himself in the head rather than face his colossal failure, leaving Justine to find her own way.
She took a deep breath and knocked on the front door.
A few nervous moments later, the portal swung open to reveal a well dressed, older gentleman in a slightly askew, dusted wig. Upon seeing her, he notched up chin and cleared his throat. “The servant’s entrance is at the rear, young lady.” He waggled a fat finger toward the alley. “Through the gate to the right.”
The door slammed shut in her face.
Justine let out a tired sigh and swung about. Pompous bastard. She headed to the passageway the annoying man had indicated and pushed open the rusted metal gate.
It gave way with an eerie squeal.
Her heels echoed off the cobblestones, the sound bouncing down the narrow alley. A shiver rippled along her spine.
The door at the end of the passage swung open, spilling light onto her feet. An elderly woman smiled at her through the opening. “Are you Justine O’Malley?”
Her steps came to a halt. The woman certainly looked harmless enough. Justine nodded, returning the friendly smile. “Aye, That I am.”
The woman waved a wrinkled hand at her. “Come in, child. We’ve been expecting you.”
As always, I would love to know what you think. Did the opening pique your curiosity? Do you want to know more? Feel free to share your thoughts and comments below.
See you all next time!