Hi everyone,

Been a while, so I think an update is due. Long story short, I've been in and out of the hospital with back issues. I took a nasty fall down the stairs as I moved books about. As I was transporting books, it was at that point one of my cats decided it was time for the zoomies. I lost balance and ended up taking a tumble, narrowly avoiding breaking my neck, but suffering some temporary paralysis.

My months have been a haze of painkillers (something I'm not a fan of usually, but my hands were sort of tied). On the plus side, I've been using my recovery time to read and catch up on some games I've been meaning to play or replay, mostly Fire Emblem Engage and Three Houses, completing both on Maddening. 

I've also been picking away at different bits of writing. I hope I'll resume things to "normal" once I feel a little bit more stable.

Hope you're all well.

SQ        

A Detective's Reward Extract

 ~***~
Sinful Encounters
A Detective’s Reward
~***~


Stephanie Ashnot held the glossy black and white photos in her gloved hands, angry tears forming in her large, dark eyes.

From the corner of the medium-sized office, leaning against a metal filing cabinet, Detective Isaac J. Baker watched her with folded arms, counting the seconds before the crying began. Just as he reached twenty, the choked sob came and then a shriek of fury as Miss Ashnot began to rip up the photos.

Baker shook his head and pulled out a pack of Camel cigarettes from his chest pocket. He waited for his client's rage to simmer down before he said, "I’m sorry your suspicions were correct, Miss Ashnot. It’s never an easy thing to discover."

"Bastard! That bastard! That fucking bastard!" she yelled as she slammed her fist on the large desk. "How dare he! How fucking dare he! When daddy finds out...." her threat lapsed into a stifled sob.

Baker waited a few seconds before he crossed the room and offered the weeping woman a cigarette. She took it, her hands shaking as she pulled a lighter from her bag. After a few calming drags and exhales, she looked up at him.

"So, who is this trash whore?" she asked before sucking on the cigarette.

"Name is Dolly Jones," Baker said, settling on the edge of the desk. "She’s married – but I guess your fiancé took a fancy to her."

In truth, Baker could see why Paul was attracted to the blonde. Dolly had a girlishness and innocence, which was only matched by her sizeable sexual appetite. He remembered the stakeouts in vivid detail, watching in admiration as the blonde handled Miss Ashnot’s fiancé with such whorish delight that it would make a Catholic girl envious. Dolly was a fascinating paradox that had successfully seduced Stephanie’s fiancé.

"Does her husband know?" asked Miss Ashnot, breaking into his recollection.

"He does. It seems he gets off to it, often watching as Paul..." Baker coughed, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

Stephanie ground the cigarette stub in the ashtray, tearing the paper and spilling the nicotine. "What? Watches as Paul bends her over and fucks her ass? Or watches as his wife sucks my fiancé’s cock? Stop trying to spare my feelings!"

Baker gave a slight nod. "Sorry, doll."

"Don’t call me “doll”! You seem to forget who I am, Mr Baker!"

"Not at all, Miss Ashnot. As I said, I appreciate how upsetting for you this all is."

Stephanie held his gaze for a moment more before her bottom lip quivered.

Baker sighed.

Dames.

When she’d first stepped into his office, Baker had thought the heiress to the Ashnot fortune must have lost her way. Women of her pedigree didn’t come to the darker side of this town. And women like her certainly didn’t come seeking a man like Baker.

He withdrew a hanky from his pocket and held it out for her. After she’d wiped her eyes, she took a few deep breaths.

When he thought she was calm, Baker asked, "So, what will you do? Confront him? I have backup photos, so that won’t be a problem."

"I don’t know," Miss Ashnot admitted. "You must understand, Mr Baker. A woman’s heart is fragile and shouldn’t be played with!"

"Women cheat as well," Baker reminded with a shrug. "You have any idea how many poor schmucks come in here asking me to track their wives? You wouldn’t believe the number of times I’ve seen some of the toughest S.O.B.s reduced to bawling babies when they’ve learned the truth. Damn, it’s a sad sight."

Stephanie’s slender fingers tightened around the creased handkerchief. "Is that supposed to comfort me?"

"No," Baker said as he moved behind his desk. "Just reminding you that anyone can be shit, regardless of what’s between the legs." He opened the bottom drawer and withdrew a bottle of whiskey. "Want some?"

A faint smile tugged at Stephanie’s lips. "I didn’t think detectives actually kept bottles of scotch in their desks..."

"Ain’t no smoke without fire. Stereotypes gotta start somewhere." He unscrewed the tab and held the bottle up. "So?"

"I best not – I’m more of a wine type of gal..." She made a slight adjustment on her chair. "I tend to get impetuous if I drink."

"Really?" Baker asked as he poured himself a small glass. Experience, usually bitterly attained, had taught Baker to be wary of women. They were a dangerous breed, and he had detected the shift in his client’s behaviour. "You know, you didn’t answer my question," he said after he’d drained his glass.

"Didn’t I? Oh, how silly of me. Could you refresh my memory?"

Baker returned to his previous position in front of the desk. "What are you going to do?"

"To be honest, I don’t know. I don’t feel quite as angry anymore – just upset. I’ve tried to be a good fiancée, to fulfil Paul’s needs – all of his needs." Her large, smoky-mascara-lined eyes lingered on Baker as she said this. "And this is how I am repaid..."

The Detective nodded, surprised that he felt a stir of genuine sympathy for her.

"But do you want to know the absolute worst part about all this?"

Unsure of what to say, Baker shook his head.

"The worst part," Stephanie continued. "is how this makes me feel. I feel worthless. Am I so unappealing that he would rather have her -" she gestured to the shredded remains of the photos’-over me? Am I so ugly? So past my prime? Oh, Mr Baker, what’s a girl to do?"

"Past your prime, you?" Baker asked. "Not at all. Hell, you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen." And he meant it. The Ashnot family was well known in New York, though they did not have the most savoury of reputations. In particular, there had been many rumours about the heiress. Her beauty had always been a regular topic of conversation, and now that he saw her, Baker understood why. Standing at about 5.5, 5.9 with her heels, the millionaire heiress had her dark brown, shoulder-length hair brushed out, and pin curled, with the sidebang spilling over her heart-shaped face, covering her right eye. Her milky skin was perfectly smooth, with a beauty mark below her juicy lips. The blazer coat she wore did little to disguise her well-formed breasts. Though they weren’t massive, they were undoubtedly sizable and sat well on her slim frame. Her long, black stocking-clad legs were crossed, her knee-length skirt slightly creased, the hem slipping up her thick thighs.

In short, Stephanie Ashnot was a real knockout.

If you're interested in the book, it can be purchased from the following links.

‎A Detective's Reward on Apple Books

A Detective's Reward eBook by Sinner's Quill - EPUB | Rakuten Kobo United Kingdom

A Detective's Reward (Sinful Encounters) by Sinner's Quill | eBook | Barnes & Noble® (barnesandnoble.com)

Smashwords – A Detective's Reward – a book by Sinner's Quill

Normal

I've written this post a few different times, but I've decided to just give a quick update. Things are improving, meaning I'm actually able to resume work in a normal fashion. I've used this time to publish a book. Unfortunately, I can't publish the contents of it here in its entirety because of legal reasons, but I am able to post a larger extract than usual.

Just wanted to let you know what's been going on.