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About the author:
Sofia Mansfield is a pen name because I have novels in other genres. I live in West Hollywood and write full time.
What inspired you to write your book?
I wanted to write about women who chose a lifestyle that’s a little different. This is erotic fantasy romance. I love happy endings. Each of the novels in the series, Cat Walk Diaries, connects to the others, but each is also a stand-alone.
Here is a short sample from the book:
“I’m glad you called,” Madeline said. “I have someone for you.”
“I was hoping for Sapphire.”
“Sorry, she’s busy tonight. I have a new girl in town. You’ll like her.”
“I’m tired. Don’t know if I want someone new…”
“Have I ever steered you wrong, Alex? Darling, trust me, I know what you like.”
“How new is new? As in first time?”
“A real virgin,” Madeline said. “You’d be her first client.
“Ah, sounds interesting…”
1 – RIGHT NOW – GOLDIE
The parking lot was gritty with little pebbles and sand as I wobbled on four inch heels toward the huge airport hotel in Los Angeles. I was supposed to be anonymous, just another traveler in the big impersonal place, and I thought, Oh yeah, that will go over perfectly. I’m shaking with fear, lurching on these damn heels that make me feel like a circus performer on stilts, and tired beyond belief after a long day of classes, then the waitress job and then rushing way out here in my decrepit car, which may not even make it home tonight.
The decision to park in the far back of the enormous lot was not because I was afraid of getting side-swiped by another car, but to be devious. Now my feet were aching and my ankles felt like they might break off from wobbling back and forth. A few minutes ago it made sense because I was dressed to kill and the car proclaimed loudly, this girl is a fake, with her new stunning black dress and the rusty piece of junk she drives.
I was so panicked as I rushed to the entrance of the hotel I could feel each individual heart beat. Taking deep breath to calm myself, I went through the revolving doors into the lobby. What in the hell was I doing anyway, I wondered, as I tried to look around without appearing to look around, so I could find the man who was a stranger and the room where he was waiting.
I’d certainly lost my mind to even think I could handle this job. I could almost imagine my soul being sucked out of my body and landing in the black hole of Hades with fire dancing all around my naked body. Which would probably be naked in the not too distant future. Within the hour. Or not. I could just turn around and go home.
Bad idea. The gas guzzling monstrosity I drove had to be replaced, student loans were killing me, and I was behind on the rent. Maybe if I stopped that incredibly stupid habit…eating? Nope. I hijacked most of my food from the restaurant where I worked anyway, sliding buns in my apron pocket when no one was around.
Stealing food was minor in comparison to what I was planning for tonight. Neither made me feel like the shiny girl with great brains and unlimited potential I was known for only a few years ago, before my parent’s furniture store went broke in the bad economy and they told me I’d have to pay for grad school myself.
Now all I seemed useful for was a great body, an asset and necessity for the dreaded new job. It was definitely demeaning, a long fall into tainted desperation, but temptation beckons even while the rest of me sits back and watches, appalled. It sure would be great to have a new car and eat steak once in a while. And maybe put an end to the waitress drudgery. I just have to think of this as an exchange of products or commodities. He’ll get a little pleasure in the form of a zipless uncomplicated fuck; I’ll get some necessities of my own.
Besides, there were time limits. It would be over and done in a couple of hours. No big deal, I thought, as I spied the correct elevator to take me to the penthouse suite and wobbled over on my stilettos, took a deep breath and punched the top button.
Damn, the elevator was too fast. I was feeling nauseous anyway, and the speed made my stomach lurch and my head spin. I almost stumbled out of the elevator, which was luckily empty except for me, and looked at two white doors in front of me embossed with gold trim and twin gold doorknobs. A small rectangular gold plaque on the door said ‘Penthouse.’
The guy inside must be Midas, I speculated, to be able to afford such opulence. Someone old, with sparse white hair feathered around a bald crown, spindly slug-white legs, arms like sticks, and a puffy pot belly. The head would appear large on a skinny, rubbery, wrinkled neck.
I knocked. Keep breathing I reminded myself as I waited, but my whole body shook with adrenalin…the fight or flight response to abject terror and panic. My mind was shrieking, flee, run, get out of here.