Read Dead Sweet: A D.I. Turnbull mystery for Free Online Page B

restaurant that same night and telling her tales of wild parties, designer clothes, luxury goods and hotels. He told Tracy she had a look which would get her far in his world and if she stuck with him, he could make her famous and rich; very, very rich.
    And so Vixen was born; Vixen worked tirelessly for Paul, travelling long distances to photo shoots and PR events where she would dress in barely there clothes and use her full pouting lips and volcanic breasts to their full advantage. Fluttering long fake lashes at the punters and stunning them into a stupor with the emerald green eyes which promised them more than they could ever imagine possible.
    Vixen soon learnt that men were driven by sex. Sex was a physical act which gave humans pleasure for a short time but the promise of sex and the imagining of sex was a much more powerful tool. It lasted longer and cost more. Vixen didn't need to sell her body, just the idea of it. She soon began to make a lot of money as her image became more and more in demand. A short stint on a reality television show called Celebrity Nurses, where Vixen got to show her caring nature whilst giving bed baths and make overs to patients in a London hospital and Vixen's rise to fame was enhanced tenfold. She was now a woman in demand; advertising everything from dishwasher tablets to couture clothing. Endorsing products, writing books, designing for her own swimwear collection; Vixen left behind the seedy world of sex and became a household name, even picking up an award for her contributions to charity and her tireless efforts to help people still languishing in the doldrums of cement housing estates all over England.
    Her new television show, 'Vixen's Victories,' would highlight tales of woe from various members of society and show Vixen helping them escape the turmoil of their lives, if only for the length of time the programme aired for.
    Vixen's millions did not take her far from home, however; her mother Karen point blank refused to leave the haven of Fern Bridge. No longer on benefits as Vixen supplied Karen with ample money, but still a slave to the drugs and alcohol which had been her life; Karen could not envision herself in a house of larger proportions than her two bedroomed flat and would not entertain even the notion of being too far away from the ersatz safety net her dealers offered her.
    Loving her mother and wanting to be around for her when the time would surely come when she was willing to join mainstream society, Vixen chose to live in nearby Twockford. She had invested in a Victorian town house which boasted high ceilings, three floors and a large family of mice which had lived behind the skirting boards for generations. Vixen spent a small fortune ripping the house to pieces and installing all the modern trappings of living in the twenty first century. The house was now home to en suite bathrooms with walk through four man showers, Jacuzzi bath tubs and flat screen televisions ensconced in the high gloss tiles. Her kitchen had a walk-in refrigerator, three ovens and drawers which would never slam shut. Leather and chenille sofas graced the expensively carpeted reception rooms and crystal chandeliers sparkled from every ceiling. Vixen loved her new home and hoped one day she would be able to fill it with the sound of baby's laughing. For now though she remained the property of Paul Anderson, answering his every need both in business and in the bedroom. She knew in reality she had outgrown Paul, but as a stray dog will follow the person who feeds it, Vixen remained loyal to the man who had rescued her from the life she had been living.
     
    Paul insisted that Vixen keep her looks up to date; she was never to be without make up or the pout which had made her fortune. He would encourage her to use Botox and fillers, even though she was now only twenty one. A seemingly casual comment from Paul on how her boobs appeared to be a little saggy would immediately prompt a visit to the