Creatures of the Chase - Richard

L. M. Ollie

Description

Young, intelligent, beautiful, Sarah Churchill knew exactly what she wanted from life and what she wanted was a career in medicine. On New Year's Eve, 1979 she was abducted. Forced to confront the worst possible nightmare at the hands of a man with few moral scruples - or so it would seem - Sarah soon learns not only the art of adaptation but how to quite simply survive. Lessons well remembered in advance of the day when she would find herself as the Hunter although she would pay dearly for her entry to the Chase.

Set in Boston, Massachusetts and Southern Ireland, this is a gripping and compelling novel of lust, wealth and the abuse of power, populated by characters that will both fascinate and appal. You won't be able to put down this exciting page-turner. Richard – Book One: the first of a quartet.

Sujets

• Contemporary
• Romance
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: eBookIt.com
• Date de parution: 23 février 2011
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9780473184636
• Langue: English

Extrait

Creatures of the Chase
Book One - Richard
 
by
L. M. Ollie
 
 
Published in eBook format by Taheke Press
Converted by http://www.eBookIt.com
 
Author’s Note:
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents
are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual
persons living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
 
First published in paperback New Zealand 1998
ISBN 0-473-05285-7
By Taheke Press
www.taheke.co.nz
 
eBook published in 2011
ISBN 978-0-473-18463-6
 
Copyright © 1996-2011 by L. M. Ollie
Email : ollie @ taheke.co.nz
 
L.M. Ollie has asserted her right under the Copyright Designs and
Patents Act to be identified as the author of this work.
 
Also by the same Author
 
Thirteen at Dinner
A play about King Richard the Third of England 1452-1485
ISBN: 978-0-473-18356-1
 
On the Trail of King Richard III
ISBN: 978-0-473-18310-3
Reputed to be the most concise and historically accurate rendering of the life and times of King Richard III set within the confines of an intelligently written, exciting and frequently amusing storyline.
 
 
Soon to be released
 
Creatures of the Chase
Book Two – Yusuf
ISBN: 978-0-473-18464-3
 
Creatures of the Chase
Book Three - Mikail
ISBN: 978-0-473-18462-9
 
*****
 
Creatures of the Chase
Book Four - Sarah
Dedication
 
 
Dedicated to the memory of the real
 
Sarah
(1942-1966)
 
She loved not wisely but too well.
Part One
 
Man is the hunter; woman is his game:
The sleek and shining Creatures of the Chase,
We hunt them for the beauty of their skins;
They love us for it, and we ride them down.
 
Alfred, Lord Tennyson – The Princess
 
 
1
 
Boston, Massachusetts – December, 1979
 
Davie knew when he was in deep and right now he was in up to his neck. This particular Shit Creek was in flood and no amount of the old charm and razzle-dazzle was going to help him find a paddle this time. He swallowed another ball of saliva, cleared his throat and tried to keep it all together.
 
Yeah, that’s what you gotta do Davie boy, just keep it all together man. So the guy you’re lookin’ at is the richest, most powerful son of a bitch that you’ll ever want to see up close. Not to worry, Davie boy, this dude’s specialty is women and the occasional pretty boy maybe, so you’re safe as houses .
 
So, why am I here, you bastard?
 
Merhot Capritzo’s eyes moved upwards from the piece of paper he was reading to focus on the young man seated, in some discomfort it would seem, across the polished ebony, glass and chrome desk.
 
Davie felt his skin crawl as every feature of his face was methodically scrutinized. Blackest damn eyes he had ever seen and the scary part was that they were like dead looking or something. Shit! Hold on man or you’re gonna lose it! And Davie held on - just.
 
Three days ago now Davie had been summoned to this almost legendary address by a representative of Mr. Capritzo. Nice looking dude too; real smooth his three-piece suit and shiny shoes; a real class act. He was waiting by Davie’s clapped out old Mustang in the parking lot of the university where Davie was suppose to be studying Pre-med. He was failing his courses but getting straight A’s with the chicks. Knocking them over like ten pins. He ought to get bonus points! Sandy haired, blue-eyed, with the fresh-faced charm and gift of the gab of his Irish ancestors, Davie had the world by the balls. Except that right now he was ah …
 
He had been told to wear a suit and tie. It never occurred to Davie not to, so here he sat in exactly the same outfit he had worn last year when his mother was buried in that big, old, fancy cemetery out at Concord. That was no fun, no fun at all man. He remembered the snow falling, landing in big white globs on top of her coffin as it was slowly lowered into the cold, cold ground. His mother had just enough time before the cancer ate her up to say what she wanted written on her tombstone - Beloved Mother of David Michael Kendall - like she was hoping that he would join her someday, but Davie had it all worked out. He was going to live to be ninety-one then die of a massive heart attack while screwing some nubile teenager in the back seat of one of them flash electric cars of the future . ‘Wham, bam I’m outta here ma’am and I DO thank you !’ Then he was going to be cremated in an oven just like a pizza only when he came out he’d have more than his mozzarella melted!
 
‘This is a most regrettable situation my young friend. You are, I believe, not yet twenty years of age. Is that correct?’ Capritzo’s tone was strictly business, almost formal, with perhaps just a hint of condescension as he raked the young man over with eyes that would miss nothing.
 
‘Yes sir. I’ll ah … I’ll be twenty next month, sir.’
 
‘So young,’ Capritzo sighed as he moved the papers aside. The smile that accompanied the sigh was cool, aloof; the lips moistened repeatedly by a quick, efficient tongue that darted in and out.
 
‘Like a snake’ , Davie thought, then shuddered inwardly. Actually, come to think of it, everything about his man reminded Davie of a snake - the deadly kind. No, not the kind that bites. That would be too easy, too quick. More like the constrictors. You know; the kind that suffocates you while breaking every bone in your body so you’re more compact and easier to swallow.
 
How old? Hard to say; fifty maybe, but with that well-cared-for, smooth-skinned look that only big money can buy. Davie didn’t believe half the stories told about this guy; didn’t want to either. He was Egyptian or something. Immaculately dressed in a three-piece suit made from the finest wool, his slender frame could almost be described as spare, perhaps because he was tall; six feet tall to be exact with the rigid posture usually reserved for military types - or undertakers. And to top it all off, he had jet black hair drawn straight back to accent a high forehead and a widow’s peak. It made him look even more predatory, more evil if you like, and right now Davie didn’t like so he concentrated instead on his fingers resting none too quietly in his lap.
 
If it was true that women lined up to sleep with this creep than all Davie could say was that either they had cast iron stomachs or one hell of an itch. Whatever the truth was, one thing was sure, Capritzo had the finest stable of whores this side of the Mississippi. And all of it was high quality stuff too with price tags to match. If he regularly oiled these dames himself, and it was rumored that he did before sending them off with big smiles and a few new tricks of the trade to practice with, he would be one hell of a busy boy.
 
‘I have learned of your indebtedness purely by chance. Tell me Mr. Kendall, do you have sufficient funds to satisfy Mr. Stark?’
 
‘Well, I ah … my car is ah…’
 
‘…1972 Ford Mustang, worth perhaps less than nothing considering that the brakes are in need of major repair. Come, come Mr. Kendall, surely you must have other resources.’
 
Davie lowered his head.
 
‘I see. You realize, I trust, that Mr. Stark is quite prepared to make an example of you. The sum of money is incidental to him, the debt negotiable, but alas you have compounded your error when you felt compelled to bed his current mistress. As I have said, a most regrettable situation. Has it occurred to you, Mr. Kendall, that you may well lose your life all for the paltry sum of four thousand dollars?’
 
‘Sir, I don’t know why you, ah ... why I’m, ah ... here.’ Davie’s veneer cracked like the shell of an egg.
 
‘Then I shall tell you. I have a proposition for you. If you do exactly as I ask of you then I will arrange to have not only your gambling debt erased, but I will actively seek to amend the damage caused by your little indiscretion with Miss Napier. Have we an accord?’
 
‘I, ah … I mean, it depends on what you…’
 
‘Please Mr. Kendall - David - you are hardly in a position to question me or to debate the finer details. Either you undertake the task I have in mind for you, or you do not. I can assure you, however, that this thing is of no great matter, legal and well within your scope. I would even hazard to suggest that you might enjoy it. Answer please.’
 
‘All right, I’m in,’ Davie replied, more terrified than ever.
 
‘Good.’ The smile again, only this time it was more triumphant than condescending. He had hold of his prey and was about to squeeze. ‘I believe you are acquainted with a young woman by the name of Sarah Winthrope Churchill. Is that correct?’
 
‘Sarah? Yeah, I know her. She’s in some of my classes but I mean, well, Sarah is … well, she’s not the type of girl you might be looking for Mr. Capritzo, sir.’
 
‘Indeed? Perhaps you are correct. The interest, however, is on the part of a client of mine. I personally have no knowledge of the young lady nor have I seen her, but my client has and was, it would seem, quite taken by her. He has expressed a desire to meet with her formally, to talk, dance perhaps, but as is so often the case, he is somewhat reticent, fearful perhaps of rejection. Tell me Mr. Kendall, is Miss Churchill a virgin?’
 
Davie felt his bowels do a back flip. ‘Yeah, she’s a virgin all right. Look Mr. Capritzo, I think you’d better tell your client straight out that Sarah is, well … not typical.’
 
‘What are you suggesting?’
 
‘She doesn’t date. All she’s interested in is getting high grades. Some of the guys think she’s a lesbo.’
 
‘A what?’
 
‘A lesbian - you know. Twice I’ve asked her out, but no go. I’ve dated her roommates and they say she’s straight but just doesn’t like guys or guys her age; I don’t know.’ He shrugged. ‘Hey, I give your client credit for having good taste because she’s one great looking girl and smart too, real smart but well ... frankly I think he’d be wasting his time.’
 
‘Surely that is for my client to decide