Black
Dog Nights
by Ren
Monterrey
Genre: New
Adult (Serial Novel)
Release Date: August
8, 2014
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
My student loans are due and I still haven’t
found a job that pays more than minimum wage. So I decide to make an
arrangement through The Club. I’ll get what I need…money to pay my loans. And
he’ll get what he wants…access to my body…whenever and however he wants it.
ROSE COLLINS is a recent art school graduate with overwhelming student loan
debt and no way to pay it.
JAE ROTHKO is a wealthy and renowned artist who
doesn’t have the time or patience for a relationship.
Jae joins The Club so he
can have one woman when he wants and how he wants with no attachments and no expectations.
He selects Rose to be that woman. BLACK DOG NIGHTS is a SERIAL NOVEL, which
unfolds in THREE PARTS (approximately 80 pages each). EACH PART has a
CLIFFHANGER and EACH PART is .99 cents. (That’s $2.97 for ALL THREE PARTS.)
By the time we get to The Rock Stop,
the dance club is already crowded with twenty-somethings who all look eager to
hook up with anyone who’s willing.
Two guys, who are already half-drunk, gawk
at my breasts as I walk by. I wish there was another feature of my anatomy that
garnered as much attention as my mammary glands.
I breathe a sigh of relief
when I hit the relative safety of the bar area. “What do you want to drink?”
Cali yells over the loud Top Forty music.
“Would I look too conspicuous just
holding a glass of water?”
She purses her lips at me. I tell her she looks like
a duck when she does that but it doesn’t stop her.
“I’ll get you a beer. You
don’t have to drink it but I don’t want you to embarrass me, or yourself.”
“Yes, Daffy,” I tease.
“I do not have duck lips,” she insists.
“You do when you
pucker them like that.”
“I think you’re on crack.”
“Just get the beer.”
She
waves in order to get the bartender’s attention but no such luck. He’s busy
with a group of girls at the other end of the bar.
“Hey, Babe.” An arm reaches
over Cali’s shoulder. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you tonight.”
David nods in my
direction. “What’s up?”
He never addresses me by my name even though he’s been
hooking up with Cali for over a year and I’ve seen him dozens of times. David
is the kind of guy I always hated in high school. His family has money and he’s
never had to work a day in his life for anything. Cars, clothes, expensive
vacations, you name it, and his parents have handed it to him on a silver
platter. As a result he has a sense of entitlement that knows no bounds.
No
doubt that’s why he feels like he can treat Cali any way he pleases and she’ll
just keep coming back for more.
He runs his fingers through his short brown
hair. I’m not sure whether it’s a nervous habit, or if he thinks that his
fingers are like some kind of comb, but he does it all the time.
David is a
good-looking guy in a frat-boy kind of way. Cali says he played baseball in
high school, and he looks like he probably still plays sports. He’s not huge,
but he’s definitely in good shape.
Cali met him at a frat party. Even though
she’s never set foot in a college class she’s spent a lot of time at college
parties. David likes to brag about the fact that he’s a business major. I don’t
see what the big deal is though. I feel like business is a major for people who
don’t really know what they want to do with their lives.
Not that I have any
room to talk. Apparently I earned a degree for people who don’t really want a
job.
Before I know it, Cali and David have disappeared somewhere and I’m alone
at the bar.
Great.
I didn’t even want to come here in the first place. I have a
choice. I can leave or I can order a drink. After the day I’ve had a drink is
actually starting to sound appealing.
As soon as the DJ starts mixing, nearly
everyone moves to the dance floor. The bar area is now pretty empty except for
a young woman seated at the far end. She glances up at me when I approach and
gives me the faintest of smiles.
She’s an attractive blonde with stunning ocean
blue eyes. She’s the definition of a blonde bombshell. She’s got curves that would
give Marilyn Monroe a run for her money.
I order a Crantini and the bartender
wastes no time filling my order.
“Tough day?” the blonde asks.
I nod.
“Have a
seat.” She points at the stool next to her.
“Thanks.”
I climb onto the stool
and take a sip of my drink. It’s strong and I cough a little as it goes down.
“Russ likes to make them strong.” She laughs. “Maybe he thinks he’ll get lucky
at the end of the night.”
The bartender, who looks like he’s in his
mid-thirties, is completely bald and built like a brick house. Definitely
someone I would want to have on my side if a fight broke out.
“Are you waiting
for someone?” I ask. She looks a little too dressed up for the place we’re in.
It’s mostly a denim crowd and she’s in a little black dress and pumps.
“You could
say that.”
I nod. A cryptic response, but I get the impression that she’s not
going to say much more about who she’s waiting for.
“So what’s your story?” she
asks.
I laugh. “Do I look like I have a story?”
“You definitely look like you
have a story.”
“You’ve probably heard it a million times before.”
She glances
at her watch. I can’t help but notice it’s a gorgeous Rolex. The blonde doesn’t
look that much older than me. I doubt she’s even twenty-five. It makes me
wonder how she can afford such an expensive watch. When I look at her more
closely, I notice she’s also wearing a diamond tennis bracelet and huge diamond
stud earrings. Also very expensive.
Maybe she’s like David and has a generous
daddy with lots of money.
“I’ve got a few minutes before my friend gets here.
Tell me this story I’ve heard a million times before.” I take another sip of my
drink. She’s right. Russ does like to make them strong.
“I recently graduated
from art school. I have a fine arts degree but no professional job and no prospects.
My student loans are set to go into repayment and I have no way to pay them.
I’m barely making ends meet on my salary busting my ass at the local coffee
shop. Pathetic, right?”
She shakes her head. “It’s not pathetic, but you’re
right, it’s a story I’ve heard a lot. Maybe not a million times. Half a million
tops.”
We both laugh. It feels good to laugh about it. At least for one night.
She reaches into her purse, a pricey Coach bag, and pulls out a business card.
I expect her to hand it to me but she places it on the bar between us instead.
“I don’t do this very often but I feel bad for you, so I’m making an
exception.” She points to the card. “You can pick it up if you want to, after I
tell you what it’s about. Or you can leave it on the bar. It’s completely up to
you.”
My curiosity is definitely piqued. When I glance down at the card I
notice it only has two words: The Club followed by a phone number. “What’s The
Club?”
“It’s a kind of dating service.”
I frown. “Do I look like need a date?”
“No, but you said you need money. This is a special kind of dating service for
extremely wealthy men.”
I assume that’s how she got her Rolex and other
jewelry, but I don’t want to be rude by asking. “Are you saying it’s kind of
like having a sugar daddy?”
She laughs. “That’s kind of an antiquated term but
sort of. Most of the men in The Club are older and they have very specific
tastes. Most of them want younger women, but more importantly, they want women
who will be there whenever and however they want.”
I gulp. Then I whisper. “Are
you talking about prostitution?”
She gives me a little smile. “Prostitution
implies that you’re with multiple men and they’re paying you for sex. It’s not
like that. It’s more like you’re being paid to be one man’s mistress.”
“Are
they married?” She laughs. “Some are. Some aren’t. Does it matter?”
“I think it
would to me.”
“Why?”
It’s a good question. I’m not married. He’d be the one
doing the cheating.
“Do you mind if I ask how much money you’re talking about?”
“That’s negotiable between you and the man who selects you. It’s called an
arrangement. You can negotiate any sort of arrangement you want.”
“Could you
give me a ballpark figure?”
“Usually between three and five thousand a month.”
My eyes grow wide at the thought of that kind of money. My salary at the coffee
shop, even with overtime and tips, doesn’t come close to that.
“And that
doesn’t include all of the perks. A lot of the men like to provide their
girlfriends with generous gifts in addition to their arrangement.”
“You said a
lot of the guys are older. How old?”
An image of a geriatric using a walker
crosses my mind. I’m not sure I’d be able to have sex with someone that old, if
he could still even have sex.
“The guy I have an arrangement with is
fifty-four.”
That’s ten years older than my dad. I can feel my stomach churn.
Am I really considering getting involved with some kind of club and being paid
to have sex with a guy who could be older than my father?
The blonde leans in
close. “Don’t let his age fool you. He can still perform in bed. And I only
have to see him two days a week for a few hours. And my arrangement is
non-exclusive. He doesn’t mind if I date other guys.”
“I don’t really date that
much,” I confess.
“That’s even better. There are a lot of guys who want
exclusive arrangements. Not many girls will commit to that.”
I stare at the
business card for a few seconds. Is this something I’m actually considering?
I’m just not sure. There’s no doubt that I need the money but I’m not sure
about having sex with someone I don’t even know…for money.
“It’s really not
that bad,” she insists. “I wasn’t sure at first either but you get used to it.
And Alex can be a really sweet guy.”
She makes a point of pushing the business
card a little closer to me. “At least meet with Claudia. You can always back
out if a guy selects you and you don’t like him.”
I pass my hand over the card
and hesitate for a moment. I feel like this is a pivotal moment. Like my whole
life could change just by picking up the card.
I take in a deep breath then
grab the card from the bar. Now that it’s actually in my hand I feel like
calling the phone number is inevitable.
“Tell Claudia that December sent you.”
My eyes widen and I can’t help the look of surprise on my face. “Your name is
December?”
She laughs. “It’s my real name too. And I wasn’t even born in
December. My birthday is November 28. I was an early arrival. But my parents
already picked out the name and they really liked it.”
She holds out a hand for
me to shake. “December Reynolds.”
“Rose Collins,” I reply as I shake her hand.
“Claudia just accepted several new members into The Club and she’s looking for
a few more girls. I think she’ll really like you. You’re cute and classy.”
I’m
not sure whether to take that as a compliment. “Thanks,” I say anyway.
December
looks at her watch. “I’ve got to split. I’m supposed see Alex in a few
minutes.”
She hops down from her barstool then reaches into her purse, grabs
two twenties and throws them on the bar. The drinks here aren’t cheap but
they’re not that expensive. “The Crantini is on me. I’m sure I’ll see you
around. Give my best to Claudia.”
Before I have a chance to respond, December
is hurrying out the door.
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