He loved being him… he got away with murder.
She loved being her… until she met him.
The steamy roller coaster ride of psychotic David’s obsession with his childhood sweetheart, a skilled mix of fuelled tension, dark humour and pulsating sex scenes.
With the help of her gutsy friends, fun-loving city girl Tara Warr is the only victim to survive David Howard’s death list. Whilst lounging in prison the hypnotic sexual tour de force enlists an eager recruit, seduces a prison warden and relocates to the sunnier climes of Mexico, a freedom short-lived when his charred remains are found in the fire of a plastic surgeon’s clinic. The police cease their search, finally Tara and her friends can relax, David is dead.
Laughter soon turns to fear when he communicates via Tara’s laptop that he is very much alive, knows their every move and is ready to finish what he started. He is among them, but who? He has a brand new face.
The steamy roller coaster ride of psychotic David’s obsession with his childhood sweetheart, a skilled mix of fuelled tension, dark humour and pulsating sex scenes.
With the help of her gutsy friends, fun-loving city girl Tara Warr is the only victim to survive David Howard’s death list. Whilst lounging in prison the hypnotic sexual tour de force enlists an eager recruit, seduces a prison warden and relocates to the sunnier climes of Mexico, a freedom short-lived when his charred remains are found in the fire of a plastic surgeon’s clinic. The police cease their search, finally Tara and her friends can relax, David is dead.
Laughter soon turns to fear when he communicates via Tara’s laptop that he is very much alive, knows their every move and is ready to finish what he started. He is among them, but who? He has a brand new face.
Tara has had enough, time to turn the tables and make him suffer. A woman unafraid of death is a dangerous thing. Has David finally met his match?
David Howard had been remanded for Attempt Murder. After a year of mental health issues his victim Tara Warr needed closure. Against her better judgement, she visited him in prison.
Visiting Room, HM Belmarsh Prison, South East London, England
David stepped through the doorway into the visitor’s room, followed by two guards. He looked healthy, tanned and cheerful, nothing like the pale, broken, repenting convict she was expecting... what is this place, a bloody holiday camp?
Faking calm, she watched him saunter towards the chair in front of her and settle leisurely into its seat. Typical David, he took his time, enjoying all eyes on him.
She’d forgotten how intimidating he was, his threatening air and mocking grin unnerved her, crushing what little composure she had. She eyed his shackles, doubting their strength, wanting to run for the exit, but her legs froze, paralysed, invisible tentacles bound tight; she couldn’t move… fuck, fuck, fuck… this is a bad idea.
Killer and prey sat staring at each other through the flimsy glass partition.
He’d obviously been pumping iron whilst inside, his body pulsed as strong as an ox… an image of him naked, pushing her against a wall, flashed her mind. She caught her breath, blushed and looked down at her hands… shit, shit, shit… he’s doing it again.
David smiled; he could read her like a book.
He sprawled back in his chair and calmly surveyed the scene before him; four burly prison guards, a rotund, sweating lawyer and the beautiful Tara Warr. The love of his life, sitting all prim and proper, butter wouldn’t melt. He sniffed the air, locating her smell as it seeped through from the connecting room.
Why hadn’t she come to him before, when he needed her, all those years ago, bent over the headmaster’s desk, his body torn in two… why?
He sighed, no matter, she’s here now. These past months, locked up, he’d missed her; she’d been his obsession for over twenty years, his every waking, sleeping, living thought. They had a bond, in life and death she was his, he was hers, she just hadn’t got used to it yet.
Watching her had been his life’s work, it had kept him alive. He knew every inch of her, what she smelt like, tasted like, felt like, knew the tiny sound she made at the back of her throat as he entered her. He loved every detail, every movement, every gesture, he knew her by heart. He watched her now as her body stiffened… did he disgust her? His eyes hardened.
Sniffing the air he smelt fear, his cock lurched.
He knew she was resisting, but that made it all the more exciting. He could do patience when needed. He sat quietly, observing, staring directly into her eyes. She fought it at first, but then succumbed. Her breathing calmed and her body stilled, he had her full attention.
Staring into her face… there!
He saw it, the black of her pupils dilated to treble their size… attraction… ha! I have you, my angel… David is back and you still love him… ha!
He smiled, she may have been out of physical reach for the past few months, but the mental hold was still there, she was his, he was going to enjoy this visit.
Relaxing further into his seat, he let his legs fall open, all the while keeping eye contact, he dropped his hand to his lap and cupped his cock, giving it an encouraging tweak, ever on the verge of arousal it, leapt to attention.
Heady palpable sex pulled at her through the glass, she flinched with shame and turned away. This man had tried to kill her, she should be spitting on him right now, not watching him get a hard on; she wanted to climb up onto his lap… the bastard.
How can you fear and want someone at the same time? Hypnotism, drugs, brainwashing… what has he done to me? he’s a killer for chrissakes, what the hell is wrong with me?
She closed her eyes, rocked her head back and took a long slow calming breath… focus, it’s only a man… with a few issues… well, more than a few issues, murder is a little serious… but he had good reason, I would have done the same… urrgh, who is more deranged, him or me?
The room fell silent, waiting for her reaction.
The four bulky wardens on guard, two behind David and two behind Tara, stood attentive, backs rigid, arms crossed, legs apart, silently waiting for any sign of trouble, stealing cursory glances at the classy long-legged blonde in the black suit. She was not the norm for Her Majesty’s Belmarsh; it seemed lover boy David swung both ways, Jonesy would not be happy.
Warden Jones was not, standing, seething, behind David he assessed his competition… so this is the bitch he’s obsessed with, the name he calls out in the night.
He gave David a warning punch to the shoulder, knocking his hand away from the semi lob, resisting the urge to reach down and grab it himself. As with everything about David, his cock was impressive, and Jonesy had seen enough cocks in his time to know, the prison showers were a daily peep show.
He looked over at the bitch; she didn’t have what David needed, what the hell was her hold over him?
Tara looked up to find Jonesy inspecting her legs; she tugged at her skirt pulling it over knees. The two guards behind her sniggered, she glanced back to their grinning faces, not understanding the joke, she looked over to her lawyer for support, the overweight, sweaty little man was standing at the door hugging his briefcase, anxious to leave… he said this was a bad idea, he was right.
She’d arrived with brave intention, but the moment she saw his handsome face and lounge-lizard body sprawled across the seat in front of her, she froze, unable to breathe, let alone string a sentence together.
She knew he was evil, knew what lurked beneath the handsome packaging, she’d experienced it first-hand, but she also knew the energy in his fingertips, the power in his kisses, the incredible feeling of connection as he entered her… how could someone blessed with so much turn out so bad… could she help him, change him?
He broke the silence.
‘Darling Tara, it’s good to see you, you got my letters then,’ he beamed, eyes flirting, brazenly scanning her body. ‘Sorry I can’t offer you a drink.’
Bile retched at her throat… the bastard.
Closing her eyes she was back in his apartment, naked, bound star-shaped to the bed, choking on the red wine being poured down her throat, drowning, fighting for life, his laughter ringing in her ears.
Panic pumped her rib cage, she put a hand on her chest to quieten it … breathe in, out… in and out.
Focusing on the scratched, smeared glass between them, she forced herself to tune into the sounds of prison; slamming doors, metal on metal, distant cries, repetitive life outside the suffocating visitors’ room… breathe in and out… in and out.
Knuckles clenched tight, she dug fingernails into the palm of her hand, forcing her mind to still, to concentrate on the pain… he can’t get to me here, I’m safe… in… and out.
They sat in silence.
Cunningham writes what she knows. Abducted as a child, she survived; and every night for months afterward, she prayed to God, asking for a deal. This personal journey sparked the fuse behind the intriguing and riveting fictional world she portrays in The Deal, the first in the Fallen Angel Series. Twenty years later she crossed paths with a violent serial attacker, thus sowing the seed for her thrillers The Penance List and Unfinished Business part of The David Trilogy. She is currently working on Book III For My Sins.
An ex-model, British born of Irish roots, she married a rock musician and has worked in the exciting worlds of rock music, film, sports celebrity management and as a Crime Investigator for the Police – Wanted & Absconder Unit, Intelligence Analyst, Major Crime Team, Investigations Hub.
Having worked in the music to film industry, she writes with film in mind. The Penance List has been adapted to film screenplay.
Giveaway - Win a signed copy of Unfinished Business (Open Internationally)
*Terms and Conditions –Worldwide entries welcome. Please enter using the Rafflecopter box below. The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within 7 days then I reserve the right to select an alternative winner. Open to all entrants aged 18 or over. Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information. This will passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfilment of the prize, after which time I will delete the data. I am not responsible for despatch or delivery of the prize.
No comments:
Post a Comment