I’m thrilled that my book THE SEDUCTION OF VALENTINE DAY is out today in the UK! This book is the story of a prostitute. Sounds odd, I know, but she has a story to tell. And the hero, Joshua, is based on a real guy…and that’s all I’m going to say!
She lives in a world of silk sheets, champagne, and expensive hotels.
She fulfills the deepest fantasies of the most powerful men in the world: Valentine Day is a high-class call girl, pampered and adored by her exclusive clientele.
But Valentine has a secret. Always in control, she’s never experienced true pleasure. But now, the woman who spends her life pleasuring others is about to embark on an erotic journey of her own.
I learned about something called suspension of disbelief a number of years ago in one of my English Lit classes. This is when a writer must make their reader suspend their disbelief in the unusual long enough to be drawn in and believe in the world the writer has created.
It’s something like that with my line of work. Our clients must suspend their disbelief long enough to believe the girl likes it. My particular ‘talent’, if you want to call it that-my particular perversion, really-is that they don’t have to do that with me. The truth is, I love it.
This is my dirty little secret. Because this is supposed to be taboo among the professionals of my world. Call girls. Prostitutes. Hookers. It doesn’t matter what you call us. The fact is, I get paid for sex. And it’s the only kind of sex I can get off on.
Who knew a nice Jewish girl from the Valley could end up here? Well, half Jewish, anyway, my father being a lapsed Catholic. And maybe I’ve never been all that nice.
I grew up in Van Nuys. Van Nuys is possibly the most generic, boring place on earth. Middle class, cardboard box houses that all look the same, block after block. The entire area looks as though a dull film has settled over it.
My family was at the lower end of the middle class. Not that we were poor. We always had a roof over our heads, food on the table. My father, a construction foreman, worked a lot, but he spent his money anywhere but at home. My mother never did much other than drink. Strange that he wasn’t the drinker. Jews don’t tend to be drinkers. Not that it ever stopped my mother. But my life has been a combination of the utterly dull and the most perverse, in every way, on every level. Classic hard life story, I know, but that’s my life. Or it was. Too fucking bad.
I make a lot of money. Enough to keep me very comfortable in my Hollywood Hills home. Enough to pay for the expensive clothes I buy at Barney’s and Kitson, my weekly facials and massage at the spa. Enough to pay for the breezy little Mercedes I drive, if it hadn’t been a gift from a happy client. This is why I do it.
Actually, that’s a lie. It’s what I tell myself when I’m not in the mood for the kind of deep, soul-searching honesty that keeps me up at night. How I justify it in the most basic, simple terms.
The truth, or part of it, anyway, is that I began in this business because I needed to distance myself from what I was before. From that lower middle class Jewish girl from the Valley whose mother was always passed out on the couch, surrounded by a sticky puddle of whatever she was drinking on the floor, the overflowing ashtrays. Repulsive. I won’t even allow my clients to smoke around me. If they don’t like it, they can find another girl. I’m at a point in my career where I can make a few demands of my own, and I do.
I am someone else entirely now.
GIVEAWAY!!!! Take a look at the book on my website and tell me which of the three covers you prefer-this one, the original version or the US re-release version with the rose. One commenter will win an e-copy of my book THE LOVERS! A winner will be announced in the comments section here on Saturday, February 1st US time!