Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
How the hell did I let my life become so… uninspiring?
When I was a kid, I had dreams of adventure, of travel, of having experiences worth writing in a book. I was convinced that I would have this epic love affair full of danger and excitement.
I’m twenty-five and I’m ashamed to say, I still haven’t even had my first kiss.
There’s been no great love affair, no travel, no adventure, no nothing. Just dusty old books and Harold’s unamused frowns.
I polish off the cupcake, toss the wrapper into the garbage, and then immediately regret that I was so quick to eat it. What the hell am I going to look forward to now?
I don’t even look forward to my shift ending anymore. Every evening is the same. I go back to my small apartment, cook a quick uninspiring dinner, eat it in front of whatever sitcom I’m watching on Netflix, and wait until it’s 9:30 so I can go to bed.
Five years…
What, am I supposed to keep this up for another five? Then what? Another ten, twenty, fifty? Am I going to turn into Harold? Is anything ever going to change for me or is this it?
I drop my head back, close my eyes, and let out a loud groan of frustration.
“Shhhhh!” Harold admonishes from the back.
If something doesn’t change, I’m going to lose my mind.
These are supposed to be my prime years. I’m supposed to be meeting exciting people and going out with friends. When I moved here from the small town I grew up in, I had visions of having a big hot boyfriend and laughing while hanging out with a big group of friends, but it’s hard to make friends in the city, especially when you’re as introverted as I am.
The front door opens and I perk up in my seat.
An older man walks in, brushing the light rain off his long coat. I recognize him as the dean of one of the nearby colleges. Apparently his family is very wealthy, but he’s just so rude that I can’t even.
He walks right up to me without making eye contact and pulls a thick book from the inside of his coat. With a scowl on his face, he drops the heavy book on the counter with a thud so loud it startles me.
“Thanks,” I say flatly as he walks to the tall dusty bookshelves that stretch from the floor to the ceiling. Jerk.
Finally, something to do.
I slide the book off the counter and frown as I read the title. “Law Code of Hammurabi, 1754 BC. Wow, looks fascinating.”
I roll my eyes as I turn to place it on the counter behind me. I’m excited to put it away, but it’s going to be a long day, so I have to pace myself. I’ll let myself re-shelve it in an hour. Not before.
As I place the book on the counter, a thick paper slides out and falls to the floor.
“What the fuck?” I whisper as I pick it up. “An auction… for women?”
What kind of weird shit is the dean into?
I hide it in a drawer until he leaves and then I whip it out with my heart pounding.
The Breeding Bidders Auction House.
My eyes dart around the invitation, reading it in record speed as my pulse races.
“You have been cordially invited to an exclusive auction reserved for the most elite billionaires on the planet.”
Okay....
“We believe that you would enjoy this unique opportunity to participate in this extraordinary, unique, and rare event. This auction will feature an exquisite selection of handpicked virgins… What the fuck?!”
I lower the paper as I look around with my skin tingling and my nerves on edge. I’m alone in the room and the only sound is the soft rustling of pages as Harold flips through a book in his office.
With a deep breath, I turn back to the invitation.
“We are confident that you will find the girl of your dreams among the selection of beautiful willing maidens. The event will take place in Montana on the seventeenth of September in a private secluded area accessible by private jet.”
I swallow hard as I lower the paper and stare forward in shock. The auction is four months away… I wonder if the dean is actually going to go.
“We are confident that you will find the selection of innocent young women on offer to be truly breathtaking and that you will be thrilled to have the opportunity to bid on them.
“Please RSVP at your earliest convenience to secure your place at this exclusive auction. We look forward to hearing from you soon. Yours truly, Coco St. James.”
My heart is racing as I stare at the phone number discreetly printed under the unusual name and then at the six photos of girls printed at the bottom.
Willing young virgins… Where do they get these women?