Description
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About the author:
All of my ebooks are exclusive to Amazon and free to subscribers of their Kindle Unlimited service.
What inspired you to write your book?
Each of my short stories can be read as part of the series or as stand-alone elements, and all have a reason to be happening.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Gambit moved fully into the darkened cell and waited for the door to close behind him but Gunnar and the Officer remained in the doorway.
‘What about that thing?’ Gunnar asked.
‘Coming in later today,’ the Officer replied. ‘Get it to you by bang-up.’
‘Sweet.’
Gunnar stepped back into the room and the door closed behind him with a clang.
‘Mind if I open the curtain?’ Gambit asked. ‘It’s a little dark in here.’
‘Sure, whatever.’
The extra light didn’t do much to make the small room look any better. A double bunk sat against the right-hand wall, a desk with TV and games console opposite, with the toilet and sink screened off on the far side of by the doorway.
‘Your accent,’ Gambit said, ‘eastern European? Belarus?’
‘What the fuck do you care?’
‘Just making conversation.’
‘Well don’t. You don’t ask me nothin’. I don’t give a fuck who you are or what you’ve done. This is my Wing, you get me?’
‘Yeah.’
‘My Wing, my rules.’
‘Right.’
‘So you like slapping the Screws, huh?’
‘When they deserve it, which is pretty much all the time.’
‘Well you don’t slap Peterson, ok?’
‘What? That little prick who walked me over? Why?’
Gunnar’s hand shot out like a cobra and caught Gambit flat across the cheek, sending him reeling back into the bunk bed. ‘What did I say about askin’ me things? Huh? You stupid or somethin’?’
Gambit regained his composure. ‘Just curious why you’d protect a cunt like that.’
‘What I do, or who I choose to protect is my business. You don’t slap him, you get me?’
‘I get you.’
‘Now me, I can slap who I want.’ His other hand shot out and caught Gambit on the other cheek. ‘And no one tells me I can’t.’
‘Right.’
‘And no one tells me who I can’t fuck with.’
‘Yeah, I get it.’
‘No. I don’t think you do.’ Gunnar flicked the dog-end of his roll-up away and loosened the belt holding his trousers up. ‘But you’re gonna.’
‘Whoa, just hang on a second—’
‘No, don’t think I will. They want me to show you the ropes, and these are the ropes, pussy.’
Gunnar freed the buttons holding his jeans together and flicked them down. His cock was already thickening and pushing hard against his white boxer shorts.
‘My Wing, my rules. My bitch.’
He dug his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slipped them down, releasing the hardening muscle between his legs. It sprang forwards and upwards, tilting slightly to the left and a glistening drop of pre-cum wet its tip.
‘On your knees, bitch.’
‘You’re joking.’
‘Does it look as if I’m joking? I said, on your knees!’
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