Home > Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)(4)

Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)(4)
Author: Robyn Peterman

“Excuse me, are you here to be hypnotized?” a feminine voice purred.

I glanced up from my spot on the filthy sidewalk and there stood the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I quickly stubbed out my cigarette, turned my head away in embarrassment and blew my smoke out. Reason number three hundred and forty-six to quit . . . impersonating a low class loser.

She looked foreign—Slavic or Russian. Huge violet-blue eyes, full lips, high cheekbones set in a perfect heart-shaped face, framed by tons of honey-gold blonde hair. Absolutely ridiculous. I felt a little inadequate. Not only was the face perfect, but the body was to die for. Long legs, pert boobies, ass-o-rific back side and about six feet tall. I was tall at 5 feet 9 inches, but she was tall.

“Well, I was,” I explained, straightening up and trying to look less like a crumpled homeless mess from my seat on the sidewalk, “but they must have moved.” I pointed to a rusted-out doorway.

“Oh no,” the gorgeous Amazon giggled. Seriously, did she just giggle? “That’s not the door. It’s right over here.” She grabbed my hand, her grip was firm and cool, and guided me to the correct door. A zap of electricity shot up my arm when she touched me. I tried to nonchalantly disengage my hand from hers, but she held mine fast. “Here we go.” She escorted me into the lobby of a very attractive office.

“I don’t know how I missed this,” I muttered as she briskly led me to a very nice exam room. She released my hand. Did that zap really just happen? Maybe I was already in nicotine withdrawal.

“Please have a seat.” The blue eyed bombshell indicated a very soft and cozy looking pale green recliner.

“I’m sorry, are you the hypnotist?” I asked as I sat. Something didn’t feel quite right. What was a gorgeous, Amazon Russian-looking chick doing in Mossy Creek, Kentucky? This was a tiny town, surely I would have seen her before.

“Yes, yes I am,” she replied, sitting on a stool next to my comfy chair with an official-looking clipboard in her hand. “So you’re here because . . . ?”

“Because . . . um, I want to stop smoking,” I told her and then quickly added, “Oh, and I don’t want to gain any weight.” If you don’t ask for the impossible, there’s no way you’ll ever get it.

Miss Universe very slowly and somewhat clinically looked me over from head to toe. “Your weight looks perfect. You are a very beautiful young woman. Are you happy with your body right now?”

“Yes,” I replied slowly. Was she hitting on me? I didn’t think so, but . . .

“That’s good,” she smiled. “I can guarantee that you will never gain weight again after you’re hypnotized.”

“Really?” I gasped. My God, that was incredible. Smoke free and at a weight I liked. This was the best day ever.

“Really,” she laughed. “Now let’s get started.”

“Wait, don’t I need to fill out a bunch of forms and pay and sign my life away in case you accidentally kill me or something?”

Blondie laughed so hard I thought she might choke. “No, no,” she assured me and quickly pulled herself together. “My receptionist is at lunch . . . we’ll take care of it afterwards. Besides, I’ve never killed anyone by accident.”

“Oookay.” She was a little weird, but I supposed people with her occupation would be. She did guarantee me I would be smoke free and skinny. That did not suck. Wait . . . I needed to think this through. I was feeling unsettled and wary. She was odd, made me uncomfortable and had electric hands. On the flip side, she was very pretty, had a really nice office and promised no weight gain. Damn.

Would common sense or vanity prevail? And the winner is . . . vanity. By a landslide.

She leaned into me, her green eyes intense. I could have sworn her eyes were purple-y bluish. I was getting so tired. I prayed I wouldn’t drool when I was out.

“Astrid, you need to clear your mind and look into my eyes,” Miss Russia whispered.

“How do you know my name?” I mumbled. “I didn’t tell you my name.” Alarm bells went off in my brain. My pea-brain that never should have thought it was a good idea to get hypnotized at a strip mall on the bad side of town. You’d think a business called ‘House of Hypnotism’ might have tipped me off. Crap. These were not the decisions a smart and responsible, if not somewhat directionless, twenty-nine year old woman should make. I should have listened to my gut and gone with common sense.

The room started spinning. It felt like a carnival from hell. Blondie’s mouth was so strange. There was something very unattractive going on with her mouth. It got kind of blurry, but it looked like . . . wait . . . maybe she was British. They all have bad teeth.

“I fink ooo shud stooop,” I said, mangling the English language. I tried again. “Oow do ooo know my name?” When did I put marbles in my mouth? Who in the hell dimmed the lights and cranked the air conditioner?

“Oh Astrid, not only do I know your name,” she smiled, her green eyes blazing, “I know everything about you, dear.”

Chapter 2

I opened my eyes and immediately shut them. What in the hell time was it? What in the hell day was it? I snuggled deeper into my warm and cozy comforter and tried to go back to sleep. Why couldn’t I go back to sleep? Something was wrong . . . very wrong. I just had no idea what it was.

Ignoring the panic that was bubbling to the surface, I leaned over the side of my bed and grabbed my purse. It was Prada. I loved Prada. I proudly considered myself a Prada whore, albeit one who couldn’t afford it.

   
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