Reviews

5 Stars: “Holy cow. Freaking amazing story that was intense and detailed. Took my emotions on a roller coaster ride of ups and downs. Couldn’t put it down. Best book ever.” Lisa (Goodreads)

5 Stars: “Loved this new “hot” novella from sultry Author Simone Leigh. Honestly she has converted me totally to this genre of storytelling big time. Saffron is the newest and hottest female to be handed over to Simone’s readers and she really won’t disappoint you.” Leisel2 (Bookbub)

5 Stars: “OMG I couldn’t put it down … Simone never disappoints … I don’t know what I was expecting but as per the norm, she reeled me in … all the feels included … I don’t know how she does but I’m so glad she does … you gotta read this one too … you won’t be sorry !!!” (Seventeen Eagles)

Read A Sample of ‘Dirty Halo’

Pissed off.
That’s how I feel.
But of course, I can’t let it show.
It’s already been a bummer of a night, but if I wear a scowl, it won’t improve.
Why did he suggest coming here if he wasn’t going to show?
Bastard!
So, I paint on my best smile and prop up the bar, cradling my glass, smiling around at whichever likely-looking prospect comes by.
Not that there are many. A place like this, being what it is, most of the people here, male and female alike, are already partnered up or, as the case may be, grouped up. Single guys are scarce because, quite simply, they put limits on the entry numbers at the door. Single men in sex clubs can be like sharks at the beach. Sometimes they just cruise, looking for opportunity. Sometimes they are an ‘issue’.
I check my watch. It’s getting depressingly late…
Too late?
… Already the bar is thinning out. The dance floor too, as couples and groups make their way elsewhere, to the room, parlour, cage or dungeon of their choice.
And then, I see him, across the floor, lounging against a wall, watching me.
Quite pointedly, watching me.
As he realises he’s caught my eye, his chin lifts and after a moment, he straightens up, ambling across in that I’m really quite casual and not at all bothered way that some men have, when you know that all the while, his cock’s doing press-ups.
So, I go into my routine. It’s a classic pose. I let my face tilt, my lips curve and I shift my posture. Not much. It’s best to be subtle. But Eve probably used the pose, just before she handed out the apples.
Canting a hip, I slide my left leg forward a little…
… then angle my glass into a Needs a Refill position, just rocking it a bit. Not too much, so it doesn’t register consciously. But the movement catches the eye and gives the John a cue.
Sure of his welcome now, he strolls across the floor, weaving his way through the dancers and the exhibitionists, holding my gaze all the while. Well-turned out, he saunters over as if he owns the joint, grinning like he owns me too. As he’s near enough that I can see the detail, the Rolex on his wrist looks genuine and the suit he’s wearing, hand-stitched, surely cost more than I earn in a month.
Yeah…
I’ve got his type…
Rich. Cocksure.
Used to having his own way.
Jerk?
Maybe.
Still, he looks good for a decent hit. Maybe the night’s not such a washout after all.
Dom?
Maybe…
Just in case, I lower my head as he draws closer, only raising my gaze again as he stands close.
Partly it’s a classic submissive move, but also, it gives me chance to wheel out my big guns. As my face lifts, his eyes widen, pupils expanding. “You have the most amazing eyes,” he smiles. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Sometimes, yes.”
All the fuckin’ time…
I’m not bad looking. Good makeup, careful grooming and attention to posture make the most of what I have. But my eyes are my finest selling point. And don’t I know it.
Most people have eyes that get labelled blue or brown, green or hazel. Mine, by some trick of birth, came out tawny, flecked gold. And the reason I stand here, rather than anywhere else in this large room, is that here, the spotlights catch me just so, turning my eyes to liquid gold.
Then too, I set my hairdresser a challenge.
Match my hair to my eyes…
It cost me a friggin’ fortune the first time. And not much less on the touch-ups later on. But she pulled it off, and I wear my hair golden amber, highlighted ash blonde, lowlighted auburn. The eye-hair combo probably earns me more than the rest together. When a John gets a close-up look at me, it works, well, I can’t say every time, but nine times out of ten I get the pay-off.
And now I see him up close, this one’s not bad either. Just the right height for me to look up, without him towering over me.
“Can I buy you a drink?” His breath is peaty from the malt in his glass.
“I’ll have a white wine spritzer.”
His forehead creases. “Nothing stronger than that?”
“Alcohol’s not what I come here for.”
The crease deepens to a furrow. “Really?”
“You new here?” I ask. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
He shifts from one foot to the other. “My first time here, yes.”
“And are you new to…” I eye-point one way toward the orgy rooms where through the gloom, bodies, mostly naked, male and female, move together… The other way to where a pretty blonde sub is locked in her cage, her Dom inviting whoever’s passing to feel her up…. “… this?”
He scratches at his chin. “In fact, yes.”
“I thought so.”
“How could you tell? Most people read me as an Alpha.”
Whoops!
Soothe the bruised ego…
“Oh, yes. That shows. But how many people do you see here drinking heavily?”
His gaze scours the lounge… Spritzers… Soft drinks… The occasional glass of wine. “The bar’s stacked with spirits.”
I flash brows. Flash a smile. “That’s for… afterwards. When the alcohol isn’t an issue. People come here for a different kind of party.”
“Ahhh…” Realisation washes over his face, then puzzlement. “But you’re standing here alone. How come a girl like you doesn’t already have a partner?”
“He stood me up.”
“What? Why on earth would any man stand you up?”
Time?
To get the message out?
Yup…
“I think it was actually his wallet that stood me up. He can’t afford me.”
He stalls, blinking. “You’re a pro?”
“That’s right.” I pause. “You still want to buy me that drink?”
He hovers, then, “Why not?” He nods to the barman, eye-pointing at my glass, then, “So, tell me, how much do you charge for… your services?” Producing a wallet from inside his jacket, he peels a note off a thick wad, passing it across the counter.
Bingo!
Hit the mother lode.
Now, how to reel in my fish?
“It depends on what you want. What were you thinking of? What do I call you by the way?”
“Jaye.” He stares up at the ceiling, sucking in his cheeks. “Suppose I say one full night.”
Yay!
But I take my time replying, hanging on to my professional voice. “That would be five hundred…”
Go for it?
Yeah…
“… Plus expenses.”
His brows arch. “Five hundred? You’re not cheap are you. What do I get for that?”
“You mentioned a full night? I normally charge by the hour. Five hundred. I’m giving you a discount. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Fair enough. Let’s say I’ll do pretty much anything you want me to. But…” I raise a forefinger… “… nothing that leaves a permanent mark on me. And if you make any mark that lasts until the morning, the price goes up.”
His forehead furrows. “Why would I mark you?”
“Look around you…” I gesture one way, then the other… “… This is, among other things, a BDSM club.”
“Ah. Gotcha. No, not my taste…” His lips purse… “… But price isn’t an issue if you’re worth it.”
“Oh, I am. I have a long list of happy clients who will tell you that. So… what is your choice?”
His eyes drift toward the orgy room. “You can give me a show. I’ll watch you handle a few together and see what you do. We’ll take it from there.”
I hesitate. “You want to watch me get ganged?”
“That’s right. I want to see you…” Jaye levels a forefinger at me… “… with at least a man at every entrance. Mouth. Ass. Pussy.” He tilts his head. “Okay?”
“What you’re saying is, you’re asking me to give it for free to random strangers.”
He props an elbow on the bar. Sips his drink. “In your line of work, you handle random strangers all the time. And I’m paying the bill to see it.”
“If you’re paying the bill for more than just you, it’s a thousand. Cash up front.”
He clicks his tongue. “It was five hundred a few minutes ago.”
“Nothing was said about charity work for other guys. You want to watch me get ganged, it’s a thousand.”
Those brows arch again, but he produces the wallet again, peeling off a sheaf of fifties. I tuck them into my purse. “That will do nicely.”
“You’re not going to count them?”
“No need. I developed the eye for that long ago.” Jerking my chin toward a door. “So… you want this to be a private room affair? Or d’you want to use the Orgy Room.”
“Orgy room. More space.” He sucks at his teeth. “How many can you take on?”
“Why don’t we go find out?”