Authors: Diana Quippley
“This coffee
tastes like crap.” The stout police captain grumbled, wiping his lips on the
back of his thick hand. “And so do these donuts.”
“Sorry about that,
Captain.” The newly transferred officer standing beside him apologized. “I’m
still getting used to the way things are here.”
“Not your fault,
Will.” Foster sighed, walking up to the window. “Damn, I miss her… such a
livewire she was.”
“Where’d she go?”
Will asked. “And why?”
“She asked for a
transfer to Miami to get over someone she lost.” Foster answered, staring out
of the window. “Their gain… our loss.”
“Captain, we got a
match.” A bespectacled police officer peered into the captain’s office. “Well,
almost there.”
“Let’s have a
look, Jake.” Foster hurried over to the junior officer’s desk to check on the
newly arrived files and photographs.
“There he is… well
almost.” Jake said, chewing his little wooden pencil.
“Hm, almost
identical face, especially the green eyes, that high brow and big nose, and
that square jaw.” Foster observed. “But his hair’s black and he’s got a scar
over the left eyebrow. And… he’s a home grown All American country boy… that
can’t be Rogan.”
“We’ll keep
looking…” Jake pursed his lips and nodded.
“Yeah, keep
looking.” Foster sighed and walked back to the window.
“What do I do with
all this stuff she left behind on her desk?” Will asked, holding up a lock of
golden hair, a bent badge and a frayed leather strap.
“Just put in that
box under that other desk.” The captain replied without looking. “The box with
her name written on it.”
“Uh, there are
three boxes with names on it, Captain, which one is it?” The new man sounded
miffed.
“Kincaid, J.”
~ ~ ~
“Julia. Officer
Julia Kincaid.” The smiling red faced woman beamed. “Welcome to the Miami
Police Department.”
“Thank you,
Captain Sawyer.” The dark haired young woman smiled. “I feel honored to be
here.”
“Not as much has
we do.” Sawyer grinned. “Your reputation precedes you. It’s a pity you lost
your equally famous partner in New York.”
“Hazards of the
job.” Julia shrugged; her hazel eyes a bit misty. “We all knew that when we
took the oath and put on the uniform.”
“Yeah, that’s the
life of those who serve and protect.” The captain nodded, handing Julia a file.
“That’s your first case here, go over the details, it’s not that complex… and
your new partner is waiting for you outside in that squad car by the water
hydrant.”
“Thank you,
Captain…” She smiled, accepting the file. “I’ll be seeing you soon.”
She walked out
into the warm Florida sunshine. It felt good after the chill of New York. She
was glad to get this change, to help her get over things, especially things
close to her heart. The change was doing her a world of good. She felt refreshed
and looked forward to getting back to active duty.
Her new partner
wasn’t in the car. According to the information she had on him, he was on the
Force for about a year, almost as long as she had been. She wondered how he
would be, hoping for someone who could keep things very cordial between them.
She wasn’t looking for anything more than a work relationship with anyone at
that moment.
“Ah, you must be
Officer Kincaid.” A deep voice made her turn around. “I recognize you from your
picture.”
She looked up as
the tall young man walked up with a cup of coffee in his large hand. He was
well over six feet six and sported shoulder length dark hair, tied in a loose
ponytail and a very fine moustache over his thin lips. He was smiling, though
his eyes were hidden under a pair of reflective vintage Ray-Bans. His broad
shoulders and powerful build reminded her too much of the things she was trying
to forget. She hoped he was not her partner, but some other cop who she
wouldn’t have to work with.
“Yes, I am Julia
Kincaid, fresh over from New York.” She extended her hand. “Waiting for my
partner to show.”
The young man took
her hand and removed his shades and cap at the same time. She jerked back as if
an electric shock went through her, dropping the case file she was carrying.
She couldn’t stifle a gasp as she looked into his green eyes; her mouth fell
open as if she was seeing a ghost.
“Hey, are you
okay, Officer?” He asked, looking at her with concern.
“Yes, yes… I’m
fine.” She said, struggling to keep herself calm. Other than the darker hair
and slight moustache, he could have been Rogan standing there right before her.
“Cool. I guess we
are going to be partners.” He said, eyeing her with concern. “My former partner
retired last week.”
“Uh, okay.” She
nodded, seemingly disappointed and at the same time a little excited. “Are you
originally from… Ireland or Scotland?”
“Heck no, Officer
Kincaid.” he laughed, placing his cap back on his head. “I’m all American… all
the way from Iowa.”
“And your name is…?”
She stared at him closely.
“Conan
O’Falkirk.”
~ THE END ~
I do so hope you have enjoyed this
little yarn of love...
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Keep flipping through the pages to see a sample from my dark romance novel
LIKED
.
LIKED
is a stand-alone dark
romance novel with mature, graphic, and explicit content. Do not expect to find
sappy love scenes and heart-felt cuddles! Not all love comes with chocolate and
flowers… Sometimes it comes with rope and blindfolds…
Chapter 1:
Corsets,
Engagements, & Pink Hats that Can’t Exist
“Putting on a corset by yourself is a joke.”
Gia Sorah’s voice was husky and sultry anyway. Some of that was put on
for interviews and public interactions. Some of it was from a smoking habit she
was fighting to break. When delivering movie dialogue, it was even more vamped
up than usual. Between being a scream queen for indie horror films and eye
candy for films with a little more budget, she was known for a voice that was a
cross between Marilyn Monroe and every guy’s school girl fantasy. It was a
delicate balance that kept the film roles and fan mail coming. And the checks.
The checks were important too. At the moment, her voice was rough and strained
because she was already lacing up her corset alone in her dark bedroom with her
arms twisted up behind her back in the most unnatural way.
Her bedroom window hung open the way she liked it in the hot summer in
LA. Air conditioning was expensive for a horror movie starlet. The city and
state might be on drought restrictions, but she was on air restrictions. The
premier party for Splatter Love might be tonight, but the checks had not come
in yet. She supposed it was really a PayPal payment rather than an actual
check, but that was the lingo still. It did not help that she was dating the
director. Don Blackheart had started paying some of the crew and other actors.
She suspected that intimacy was going to move her to the bottom of the list
even though she was technically the star.
She got the corset tied off and took as deep of a breath as she still
could. Gia leaned up and smoothed down the shimmering purple and black material
of the skirts of her gown below the ornate corset. She looked out the window
and smelled the stink of onions and garbage wafting up on the hot air coming
through her second floor apartment.
“That is the stink of success,” she said to her neighborhood street
below.
A kid riding by on a bicycle with high handle bars looked up at her and
she stepped back from the window.
Not all of LA smell this way, but the street she lived on seldom smelled
any other way.
The car wasn’t waiting yet, so she had time.
She realized that she had forgotten to put on panties though. She was
used to putting on a bra first, so not wearing one with the corset had thrown
off her whole system. Her dress was long, so there wasn’t much chance of a
crotch shot from the cameras tonight. If Don knew that it was an option, he
would probably suggest it. She didn’t feel like bending far enough over to add
panties now, so it would be commando for Splatter Love tonight.
Gia went to step into her shoes pushing her heels up at severe angles and
she started strapping them on. It would give her calves and ass the toned look
she needed for tonight, but she might barely be able to walk in the morning.
This was the sacrifice required for promoting art and earning the metaphorical
checks when they actually came.
Gia thought again that Love Splatter was actually a better title. It had
a better flow and rhythm. Don had said that Love Splatter was a porn name while
Splatter Love carried a mystery to it. Don would then go into explaining the
irony that the film was a psychological thriller without any splatter or gore
at all. Gia would explain that fans would be looking for it and then Don would
go on a rant about breaking expectations with art. Eventually, she stopped
talking to him about it. Gia thought that if it had been a porn, she might have
had her clothes on more during the filming.
She rounded up her clutch purse that matched her elaborate dress and made
for the front door. Gia left the lights out and the window open as she locked
her apartment behind her.
As she negotiated the stairs, Gia employed the practiced grace that went
with the show of being an elegant starlet. She could not afford to look like a
baby giraffe stumbling around in her heels like she knew many of the drunk
girls would tonight.
She reached the front, glass doors of her complex. Gia checked her blond
curlets again. Her spiraled hair bobbed as she turned her head from side to
side. All the men would have raging boners from it and not really be able to
explain why. She went with a dark lip and classic natural with the rest of her
make-up. Natural took forever to achieve.
Gia opened her clutch to be sure she had her phone. It was the only thing
in there besides a single key because that was all that would fit. She was glad
to find it there because if she had forgotten it, she might cry going back up
the stairs and ruin her natural look.
She took the phone out of the clutch and scrolled through e-mail and all
her social media notifications. Promotion was a full-time distraction for her.
She sighed as she deleted e-mails from men that claimed to be in prison.
She understood they were allowed to write letters, but how were they getting to
e-mail? She also deleted the pictures of guys sending images of their junk to
her. It was in every inbox on every site. Gia had thought about starting a
website where she posted all these pictures she got with the guys’ names. She
wasn’t sure that a guy who sent pics of his cock and balls could really be
shamed. She’d probably start getting more of them if she really did start the
site. She was surprised by the number of black dudes sending the pics. Gia
apparently had a very specific fan base among the junk pic dudes.
She paused as she found a message from him again. It was on her public
Facebook page, but in the private message section. This was usually some of her
weirder stuff in this inbox.
Jack was back. He had been liking her pictures still. He always liked her
pictures. He liked them everywhere all the time. If there was a like button
anywhere near a picture of Gia Sorah, Jack clicked it. He had not messaged in a
while, but there was one right here in her inbox again. Good old quiet Jack the
Liker was back.
Gia opened the message and read: Can’t get enough of, Gia. Who can?
Right?! Haha Good luck with the premier party tonight. XXOO – Jack the Liker
Gia smiled and then frowned. Jack the Liker was a clever little name if
she could ignore the reference to Jack the Ripper, of course. Or Jack the
Licker which was somehow even creepier than Ripper for some reason. It was good
enough of a name to keep her attention when he messaged her every so often. She
frowned because he was the only person that had wished her luck tonight. Her
family, friends, co-stars, and director/boyfriend hadn’t given a word of
encouragement about the whole thing. Only her quiet, little stalker Jack the
Liker had taken the time.
Thanks for taking the time, she typed back, that means a lot, Jack.
She looked outside and saw the car wasn’t there yet.
When Gia looked back down, Jack had responded. He messaged: “I’ll be out
in the crowd fantasizing that you can see me. Haha.”
Gia smiled. She typed: “Wear a Blue Bells baseball cap.”
His messaged popped up in a couple seconds: Your little league team from
back home in Kentucky?
She felt a chill run through her that reminded her that she wasn’t
wearing panties. How could he know her little league team? Gia guessed that if
he liked every picture she ever posted, then he would pick up on it somewhere.
She was the one that brought it up after all. That was the part that was weird
as she was the one messaging a potential stalker. No one else had wished her good
luck though.
Jack messaged again while she was lost in her thoughts: “That’s a tall
order. I’ll see what I can do.”
She started to type: “Are you going to go back to Kentucky and” …
But then she deleted it. The thought of him driving to her hometown to
try to find a little league ball cap made her a bit sick to her stomach.
Instead, she typed: “And make it a pink hat.”
Jack responded: “A pink BLUE Bells cap? Do they even make those?!”
Gia typed: “If you really cared, you’d find a way.”
She looked up and saw the boxy, silver Prius she was waiting for from
Uber. Gia opened the door and stepped out trying to not catch her dress in the
door.
Gia looked down and realized she still had messages up to Jack the
Liker’s private message thread. He had not responded again. Gia typed, “JK
HAHA”, before she shut off the phone and returned it to her clutch.
***