: Lizbeth Dusseau
: Innocence Defiled
: Pink Flamingo Publishers
: 9781936173617
: 1
: CHF 2.50
:
: Erzählende Literatur
: English
: 97
: kein Kopierschutz
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB/PDF
It’s the 1920s and the naïve and starryeyed Violet Atherton is waiting tables in a Hollywood diner, looking for her big break in the movies. When the famed movie director Lionel Rains comes in for coffee and invites the eager Violet to a screen test in his Beverly Hills home, she jumps at the chance. The scene begins on a movie set in Rains’ living room, during a cocktail party of his wellheeled friends. Stepping before the camera, the timid Violet waits for her lover to appear. However, when her costar finally shows, he ravages the young innocent in a scene of unbridled passion, taking her virginity with one fierce thrust. A bewildered Violet returns home in a daze. The following day, Violet confronts the director in his studio office, demanding the truth about the previous night. She learns that Rains produces raunchy stag films financed by private collectors. Though she’s repulsed by such depravity, she experiences a strange fascination for the taboo sex. Rains reels her in by promising Violet a staring role in a series of stag films. So captivated by her own emerging sexuality, she cannot turn him down. From the jungles of Mexico to the backseat of a Rolls to a yacht headed toward Santa Catalina, she finds brutal bondage and semipublic copulation await her in every new film. Regardless of the humiliation and abuse she suffers, the willing young actress thrives in her newfound career. However, when a shocking murder rocks the underground film world, it is Violet at whom the accusing fingers point. Ditched by her friends, she waits alone in an LA lockup wondering if there’s anyone in Hollywood that believes in her innocence. While men with influence bargain to ‘rescue’ the kinky actress for their own depraved purposes, Violet prays for a real man who will save her from the terrible trial she faces.

Chapter One

The Diner

Hollywood 1928

The clatter of breaking glassware masked the sound of the bell’s subtle tinkle, but no one could miss the rush of hot air that swept through the diner the instant the door swung wide. A big man with a big profile stepped inside then shut the door with an emphatic bang, rattling the blinds that loosely hung over the steaming window. A few eyes turned to look, and a few eyes maintained their gaze, curious now. The new customer wasn’t so big in size as he was big in stature, able to swagger with a certain authority that comes with success and fame and attitude.

Poor Violet Atherton behind the counter, the one responsible for the noisy clatter of broken dishes, was immediately beside herself having recognized the gentleman now surveying the scene, his dark, smoldering eyes darting from here to there in a way that almost gave her the chills. But this was exciting! Why just last week, she’d seen his picture in the newsreel at the movies. She’d studied every feature of that distinctive visage so she’d know if she suddenly found herself in the presence of such greatness. His wasn’t a handsome face, but a powerful one with a prominent nose, thick brows above the deep-set eyes, and jet black hair combed back from his scalp in an authoritative, no-nonsense way. While there was an earnest but grim presence about him that some would find unwelcoming, women were known to cling to him like the baubles they wore for decoration. Somewhere amidst the daring intensity of his bold and solemn exterior, a twinkle of mirth could light his eyes and, when it befit his need, he could easily seduce even a reluctant female with a dashing display of charm. In Violet, Lionel Rains stirred visions as immense as the world in which he lived, along with a certain degree of lust, which was quickly suppressed amid the other emotions rankling through her now.

Standing frozen in place, Violet was unable to move, shaking so fiercely she thought she could hear her bones rattle. She had been a bundle of nerves all day—a premonition of this very moment, she guessed, having felt quite sure that it was only a matter of time before she came so close to a man so powerful. On any other day she would have known this was good fortune shining down on her. But at a moment crucial to her very survival in this cold-hearted town, there she stood with a mess of spaghetti spilled down the front of her pink uniform and a pile of broken glass at her feet. Her hair was disheveled and her face lacked the kind of confidence she needed for such a momentous happening. To think she was so careful every morning to look her best because you just never knew who might cross your path. Was this fate giving her a cruel test, or was she just plain unlucky?

“Hey Vi! Get on that mess, will ya!” Jimmy shouted from the kitchen.

She hardly heard that shout and called back absently, “Yeah right, Jimmy.” At that very moment her eyes were locked on those of their famous customer and she couldn’t deflect her attention until his eyes drifted elsewhere.

“Vi, you okay?” the redhead Rosie bumped against her hip while carrying a load of dirty plates. “Honey, someone’s gonna trip if you don’t take care of that,” she shot her an annoyed glance and moved on.

Violet looked down at her feet, and finally coming back to life, she scurried to find the dustpan and broom. She swept the broken glass away, then mopped the floor with an old dish rag. Her breath was short and her poor heart raced so fast she thought it would run right out the door. When she finally popped back up, she stood not more than two feet from the famous movie director Mr. Lionel Rains, who was now sitting at the counter directly opposite, reading the morning paper. A cloud of cigarette smoke circled his head and slowly rose toward the ceiling fan that loped above.

Frozen again with fear, Violet’s leaden feet refused to move until Mr. Rains at last peered