Mercer's Rebellion: Derrick 7744

Purple Sword Publications, LLC

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 14,746
0 Ratings (0.0)

From the moment she sets down the juice container and decides to be impulsive for the first time ever, Cammie Sorenson's predictable life changes. Deciding on a male escort, a simple body to sit by her at the Mercer Lab company party, is a monstrous task this labbie can't get through. She types in the numbers from the juice label and lets Fate play a hand in her destiny. His onscreen profile looks tempting, but he's even better in person. Derrick is handsome; he knows all the right words, all the right moves, and everything about what's wrong in Cammie's sheltered life. He's a man without a past who wants a futurewith her.

Mercer's Rebellion: Derrick 7744
0 Ratings (0.0)

Mercer's Rebellion: Derrick 7744

Purple Sword Publications, LLC

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 14,746
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Professional Reviews

"...Readers are presented with a vision of a world where corporations play people like pawns in a chess game: the focus is on winning the game rather than the well-being of the individual pieces. Cam and Derrick are two of those chess pieces, and they are struggling to be free of the game. Cam's character is sympathetic and well developed she is defined by her loneliness, love of the animals in her lab, and her absolute shock when she finds out what her research is really doing. Derrick is not quite as real as Cam is, and the reader is not given the opportunity to know him quite as well. He is a foil for Cam and a damsel in distress character that motivates her into action. That's fine he looks good doing it and makes Cam happy, so he fulfills his role in the story... This story is a good one and will definitely appeal to science fiction buffs."
 
Reviewed by: Whitney, Fallen Angel Reviews

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Excerpt

"Oh, Cammie. Let me help you. I have a friend that used Elser's Service before. I can get the web address for you. She said it was easy, all done on the internet. You type in what you want and bam, it gets delivered to your door for as little or as long as you need it." She pushed back a stray wisp of her auburn hair. At lunch she always took it down and let it hang loose about her face. "And after the date, if you want something else Well, you know. He'll do whatever you say."

"It gets delivered? We're talking about a real human right? Not a machine, not a device?" I tried to ignore her implication about sex. She had hinted I needed some, and maybe she was right.

Melanie looked over her shoulder, eyeing Magnus and Jaime as they passed us to sit at another table in the noisy lab cafeteria. "Shh, keep it down. You don't want them to know, do you?"

I flushed, feeling stupid, embarrassed and fifteen all over again.

"Of course, it's a real person. And they check them for any diseases, train them and everything. That's what they're for, you know."

"I don't know, Mel. They'll be able to tell at Palmer's. Jeez, it'll probably be pretty obvious. I don't think I'd feel comfortable doing that." 

Melanie leaned in closer. "Cam, you've got to bring someone to the party. There's going to be awards, new appointments. You know how Palmer feels about being grounded. He likes his employees paired off."

"I don't know, Mel. Let me think about it." I dove into my plate of peas and imitation chicken with a newfound desire to fill my mouth with food. When I paused to look up at the mirror behind Melanie, I was surprised at how severe I appeared. My black hair was tied back in a tidy bun, my brown eyes cold and stark. I turned to Melanie. She watched me with pity as she finished off her own food. Finally, she left me alone to think about it.

I contemplated the whole thing over a plastic looking dessert that resembled fruit, but was more than likely made from tofu and calorie-free sugar substitute. What did I need a date for? I didn't want the contact, the closeness of a counterpart. Besides, there were too many top secret projects that I was working on. A date would ask questions.


But then, Mel was proposing an escort, not a partner. A temporary man. A person with whom I could share a few drinks at a boring work party where I, more than likely, would be presented new appointments and more work. More assignments meant more money, which meant I could retire earlier than I planned to. Okay, so the idea had its merits.

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