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Pennies (Dollar #1)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Pepper Winters

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B01IPYQHH2
Book Information:

“I’m not the hero in this story, girl. You’d do best to remember that.”

At eighteen years old, I was murdered.

I wish my tale ended there.

However, my killer resuscitated me and sold me to the highest bidder, sentencing me to a world worse than Hell.

For the past two years, I’ve lived a life of torment as a man’s property. I suffer in silence and wish for freedom, but I never break.

I can’t.

I won’t.

But then he arrives.

The first stranger since I was killed.

Elder Prest, a thief with a heart as black as his soul, arrives as a guest in our twisted home. He has business with my owner, but his interest lies in me. He pretends not to notice my bruises and hides his knowledge of what I am, but the way he watches me makes me feel more human than possession.

As his eyes tear through my walls and his voice demands answers, he challenges my owner for one night with me.

I’ve survived two years of torment because I no longer believe in hope, but Elder is the only man who promises me pleasure instead of pain.

Trusting him is dangerous, wanting him is deadly.

Is he my ticket to safety or my ultimate end?

Whoever he is, whatever he wants…I can’t say no.

Books in Series:

Dollar Series by Pepper Winters

Books by Author:

Pepper Winters Books

Pennies Blurb

“At 18, I had pennies, but money didn’t make me bold.

At 19, I had dollars, but it didn’t dull the pain of being sold.

At 20, I had hundreds, but then I met him and was found.

At 21, I had thousands, but all I wanted was to be bound.”

***

“At 23, I had dollars, but life changed and made me rich.

At 25, I had hundreds, but it wasn’t enough to stop my killing itch.

At 27, I had thousands, but my reputation didn’t set me free.

At 29, I had millions, but I met her and could finally see.”

***

Tasmin was killed on her 18th birthday.

She had everything planned out. A psychology degree, a mother who pushed her to greatness, and a future anyone would die for. But then her murderer saved her life, only to sell her into a totally different existence.

Elder went from penniless to stinking rich with one twist of fate. His lifetime of crime and shadows of thievery are behind him, but no matter the power he now wields, it’s not enough. He has an agenda to fulfil, and he won’t stop until it’s complete.

But then, they meet.

A beaten slave and a richly dressed thief.

Money is what guided their separate fates. Money is what brought them together. And money is ultimately what destroys them.

She was poor.

He was rich.

Together…they were bankrupt.

WORD OF WARNING

Pennies (Dollars #1) is a DARK ROMANCE. This means there will be hard to read scenes, graphic language, and sexual content (both implied and explicitly written). Please do not read if falling in love with a man who dresses in monster robes rather than knightly armour offends you. This is not a fairy-tale. This is a black abyss that must be climbed blind before deserving the light. Along with literary darkness, this is book one of a five book series. Each subsequent novel will be released every few months (so your fingernails don’t tire holding onto the cliff-hanger), and each is full-length. Please also remember not all answers are given and not every character is as they seem. There are beasts adorned in angel clothing and angels hiding in beast’s fur.

Remember that.

You have been warned.

Don’t say you weren’t told.

Read at your own peril.

Fall in love with Elder Prest at your own risk.

Are you ready?

You sure?

You really, really sure?

Okay then…enter the world of pennies and dollars.

FREEDOM.

Such a modest word.

It carried very little importance for those who had it. But for those who didn’t, it was the most precious¸ prized, and promised hope of all.

I supposed I was lucky to know what freedom felt like.

For eighteen years, I’d been free. Free to learn what I wanted, befriend who I liked, and flirt with boys who passed my rigorous criteria.

I was a simple girl with ideals and dreams, encouraged by society to believe nothing could hurt me, that I should strive for an excellent career, and no one could stop me. Rules would keep me safe, police would keep the monsters away, and I could remain innocent and naïve to the darkness of the world.

Freedom.

I had it.

But then, I lost it.

Murdered, resuscitated, and sold.

I lost my freedom for so many years.

Until the day he entered my cage.

Him, with the black eyes and blacker soul.

The man who challenged my owner.

And set my imprisonment on an entirely different path.

DEAR DIARY,

No, that didn’t sound right. Far too light-hearted for my tale.

Dear Universe,

Scratch that. Too grandiose.

To The Person Reading This.

Too vague.

To The Person I Wish Would Help Me.

That would get me in trouble. And I refused to sound weak. Not if these words were the only thing a stranger would remember me by.

To…

Tapping the broken pencil against my temple, I did my best to focus. For weeks, I’d been confined like a zoo animal being acclimatised to its new cage. I’d been fed, washed, and given medical attention from my rough arrival. I had a bed with sheets, a flushing toilet, and shampoo in the shower. I had the basics that all human and nonhuman life required.

But I wasn’t living.

I was dying.

They just couldn’t see it.

Wait…I know.

Inspiration struck as I came up with the perfect name to address this sad letter to. The title was the only right in this wrong, wrong new world.

To No One.

The moment I pressed those three words onto my parchment, I couldn’t stop the memories unfolding. My left hand shook as I kept the toilet tissue flat while my right flew, slowly transcribing my past.

I WAS EIGHTEEN when I died.

I remember that day better than any other in my short life. And I know you’re rolling your eyes, saying it only happened three weeks ago, but believe me, I will never forget it. I know some people say certain events imprint on their psyche forever, and up until now, I haven’t had anything stick in such a way. You see, No One, I guess you could’ve called me a brat. Some might even say I deserve this. No, that’s a lie. No one would wish this on their worst enemy. But the fact remains, only you know I’m not dead. I’m alive and in this cell about to be sold. I’ve been hurt, touched, violated in every sense but rape, and stripped of everything I used to be.


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