Saturday Story 2024 – Week 24 (The Black Queen: Legend – Part 8)
This unique take on the world of The Black Queen continues today on my Patreon. This tale plays with the ideas of the original stories and turns them upside down in unexpected ways. It will be a long multi-parter with plenty of surprises along the way. Synopsis below:
When Jeremy is tasked with writing a piece about an erotic urban legend, he discovers some truths are better left buried.
In today’s installment, Jeremy and Deirdre go to dinner but something feels off. Please enjoy.
To read this story before anyone else, head over to my Patreon page and become Spell… B-O-U-N-D, too. The minimum pledge for this type of early access is $5 per month.
A small excerpt is available below:
https://www.patreon.com/posts/10627428
(…)
“Okay, stud. Good luck. I’ll try not to bother you but you should keep your phone on the ready just in case…”
“Will do.”
After he hung up, Jeremy returned home to take a shower and change into a fresh set of clothes. He had no idea where they were going that evening but he imagined some place fancy and he needed not only to look the part but also play it as well.
Jeremy rummaged through his wardrobe, his fingers dancing over the various fabrics in search of the perfect attire for the mysterious dinner invitation. After a few moments of deliberation, he settled on a tailored navy blue suit that hugged his frame just right, accentuating his broad shoulders, while the trousers draped elegantly over polished leather shoes. The jacket was adorned with a subtle pinstripe pattern that added a touch of sophistication, and the crisp white shirt he chose contrasted against the dark hues of the rest of the ensemble.
He complemented it with a sleek black tie with a subtle sheen that caught the light as he moved and a pair of silver cufflinks at his wrists. The result was classy without being over powering and he felt comfortable in his own skin like he hadn’t done so in a long time.
At around 8 pm, a black limo parked right outside his house. Deirdre, who had done as much research on him as he had done on her, had insisted to be the one to pick him up, and when he asked her if she needed the address, she replied with a wink, saying, “Oh, that won’t be necessary, thank you.” Laura was right. He didn’t know what game she was playing yet but it was obvious she liked to be in charge.
(…)
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