Detective John Saunders’ Collection:
The Complete Series
By Adrianna White
Published by Adrianna White at Smashwords
Copyright 2012 Adrianna White
All right reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form without the prior written permission from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Written in Canada.
Detective John Saunders’ Collection:
Erotica Noire
Mind the Gap
Shooting Blanks
Strip Show
Temper Tantrum
Winning Hand
Adrianna’s Fairy Tales:
Naughty Cinderella
Beauty and the Beast with Two Backs
Riding Red Hood
Detective John Saunders’ Collection:
The year is 1946 and the war is over, or so the government would have you think. There’s a different kind of war going on through the streets of West Hollywood, and its one detective’s job to make sure that those responsible for crimes against humanity are brought to justice. At least, that’s what the job’s supposed to be. The reality is a police force where half are inept and the other half are on the mob’s payroll. It’s these hurdles that John Saunders must overcome if he wants to keep his city from falling apart at the seams.
Erotica Noire:
Detective John Saunders has been on the police force almost twenty years now. He’s a drunk, a loudmouth, and a womanizer, but he’s also the best damned detective in the city.
When a young Spanish immigrant is murdered, John's life becomes a whirlwind of passion and intrigue.
This short story is about sex, drugs and guns— and they all kill.
Mind the Gap:
Be mindful of the gap, detective.
That’s the last thing Detective John Saunders remembered before he was beaten in the parking lot of West Hollywood University. He couldn’t help but think of the events that had brought him to this particular point.
Her name was Cindy Faulk, a nineteen year old freshman, and she was attacked in her classroom. With no clear suspects, John must broaden his scope if he hopes to find the men responsible, before they strike again.
Shooting Blanks:
A midnight bank heist goes wrong and Detective John Saunders finds himself caught in the middle of a shootout between the police and the mob-run bank owners. It’s up to him to grab the lone female burglar before the mob finds them all responsible.
John’s going to need all his strength for this one, because he won’t be able to hold any punches if he wants to catch the troublesome burglar in time.
This short story is all about what we want, what we need, and what we just can’t have.
Strip Show:
It was yet another cold and dreary night in West Hollywood as Detective John Saunders finds himself under the shelter of the Foxy Lady Gentlemen’s Club. Here, he would find that he was missing something he never even knew he needed.
Unfortunately, it also comes attached with boundless baggage and two intimidating gangster bodyguards. It’s up to John to manage to find a way out of the mess he’s landed in, before both the mob and his desires catch up with him.
This time, it’s not the job that might get him killed— it’s his own libido.
Temper Tantrum:
Afterhours protection has never been John’s specialty, often more content to be running through the alleyways in pursuit of a suspect or a hot lead. The pay soon changes his mind, and when a hotshot movie star’s daughter needs his assistance, he learns that sometimes the pay just isn’t worth it.
Our detective’s been on an emotional and physical rollercoaster these last few weeks, and before he can see the light at the end of the tunnel, he needs to hit rock bottom. Only there he feels most comfortable. Only there he feels at home.
Every man and woman is capable of a losing their temper, but it’s what we do with that temper that defines us— and John’s going to find that the hardest thing is keeping it under control.
Winning Hand:
No one likes a long shot like a gambler; and that’s exactly what Detective John Saunders’ hoping on— a long shot. One hundred thousand dollars are on the line in a high stakes poker game, and John’s found himself in the final two. It’s enough for either an early retirement or a quick grave. That’s if the rest of the denizens of the underground casino have their way.
John’s in a situation unlike as he’s ever faced before, and if he wants to make it through the night with his stacks of money intact, he needs to keep his wits about him and his manhood lodged firmly in his pants.
Poker’s called a thinking man’s game, but the real thinker is the one that manages to survive a hundred thousand dollar bounty.
Warning: This eBook contains graphic violence, coarse language and sexual intercourse. Adults only. Word Count: 30,999.
Detective John Saunders’ Collection:
Story One
Story Two
Story Three
Story Four
Story Five
Story Six
Email Me
Detective John Saunders’ Erotica Noire
Prologue
Fear; that was the only thing racing through Louisa Vargas’ head as fled through the deserted parking lot, her concealed stalker following close behind in the shadows. The rain poured down on Louisa, matting her hair, and clinging her blouse tightly against her body as she tried to steady herself on the glassy ground beneath her.
She was running from someone she knew; someone that she had trusted and loved. Her lustrous white dress was stunning, and much too extravagant for a poor immigrant such as her; a gift from a loving benefactor, perhaps. Unfortunately, it also made her stand out under the moon; a beacon calling forth to her attacker, under the dreary night sky.
She was far away from her homeland, having emigrated from Spain with her older sister. They left before the second Great War began, hoping for a better life. This was not the life Louisa had dreamed of, however. This was something straight from her worst nightmares.
Her aggressor followed close behind, wielding a butcher’s knife that glistened in the moonlit night. Alone and determined, the attacker pressed on. Closer and closer the stalker be could heard, followed by the sound of a metal walking stick, scraping across the asphalt towards her.
Louisa had been running for too long now and stumbled to the ground, tired and out of breath. Hitting her head on a parked car, Louisa’s vision became blurred.
Wither her heart pounding and thighs quivering, Louisa slowly picked herself up. She looked around the parking lot for any signs of her attacker. A few parked automobiles littered the area, but other than that, the coast was clear.
Louisa couldn’t help it, but she had become wet, with cum dripping from her pink panties, and then down her thighs. Rubbing her thighs together, Louisa ran her hands down her dress, and then down to her legs. With her fingers wet and dully inserted into her moist vagina, Louisa pulled back sharply, and brought back just a little taste.
Just another night on the town, Louisa tried to tell herself. With a sigh of relief, she said, “How the hell am I going to get home, now—?”
Whack.
As Louisa turned around, she was struck in the face with the metal walking stick. Louisa dropped to the ground, her nose broken and blood pouring down to the drenched cement underneath.
“You miserably whore!” screamed the shadowed stalker, standing over Louisa’s battered body. “I’ll see you in Hell!”
The attacker pulled a knife from a trench coat pocket and hastily stabbed away at Louisa, the long blade of the butcher’s knife tearing through her, one stab at a time.
Louisa’s screams were loud, echoing throughout the parking lot; but the downfall muffled much of her cries for help. No one would be coming to her rescue. Tears streamed down her face as she stared up at her aggressor, the very last person she would ever see.
Chapter One
The year was 1946, and the second Great War had only ended a short while ago. It took a couple nukes on the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and even one on the once-mighty city of Berlin.
The bombs have been dropped, and the whole world was scared. It also happened to make Detective John Saunders’ job even harder. The diseased denizen’s of West Hollywood’s seedy underbelly were growing ever more rapid with each passing month. It was a never ending stream of filth in and filth out.
John was a good-looking man in his mid-fifties, but one look at him and you would guess he was no older than thirty. A hard-working man, he didn’t have much of a social life, not unless you counted his frequent visits to The Gilded Lily Gentleman’s Club. John’s work was his life, and where he spent most of his time.
The pressure had been taking its toll on him for awhile now, causing him to question his own judgment calls, to second guess his own decisions. His mind was starting to slip, and he feared that one bad it would cost him a case.
He drove down the monotonous streets, each corner looking exactly like the last, with the rain pouring down onto the windshield as he hurried to the scene of a crime; a murder, to be exact. Apparently a young immigrant woman had been killed in a parking lot, near the edge of the city. That’s where he was headed.
John peeled into the parking lot, where several police cars had been parked. A tent had been erected, to keep the downpour from disturbing any more of the crime scene than it already had.
“What do we have here, boys?” asked John, exiting his vehicle.
“Hey there, John,” said a man, heading over to greet him.
It was his partner, Ryan O’Connor. He was a man in his thirties, built like a truck, with chiseled cheekbones and fiery red hair. A joker by nature, he always liked to keep the bright side of things firmly positioned in his mind. They had been partners for over four years now, and Ryan had become the closest thing to a friend that John had left. He knew this, and often forgave John for his rough demeanor.
They often clashed over ideals; the humorous and lighthearted Ryan O’Connor would often disagree with the increasingly drunk and disorderly John Saunders. Still, when it came down to business, Ryan knew that John would have his back; to the bitter end.
“Louisa Vargas, multiple stab wounds to the abdomen and the nastiest gash to the head,” said Ryan, taking him over to the victim. “Pity too, she’s quite the looker. Look at those supple breasts.”
“You’re a sick man, you do know that right?” asked John, looking over at his partner.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Ryan chided. “Anyway, this rich immigrant broad was in the wrong part of town, and fate caught up with her. She lives in an apartment on the beach with her sister and brother-in-law. That’s pretty much it.”
“Do we have a murder weapon?” asked John, kneeling down to have a closer look at the corpse.
“Yeah, we do,” said Ryan, with a smile on his face. “A butcher’s knife, it was stashed not twenty feet away in that trash can over there. I’m thinking it was a crime of passion.”
“It wasn’t a crime of passion,” said John, looking up towards his partner. “You said she lived on the beach, well what was she doing here? There’s no way a woman like that was in this part of town by chance. See that? You don’t get wounds that big from a kitchen knife. Someone brought a butcher’s knife to this parking lot, likely they had been chasing her for some time. No, this was premeditated. It was likely their first murder, too. The attacker didn’t even consider what to do with their murder weapon, likely panicking and throwing it in the nearest possible location.”
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “You’re probably right.”
“Why did you say this girl was rich, again?” asked John, poking and prodding at the victim.
“That dress she’s wearing must have cost two hundred bucks,” Ryan said. “Do you know how long it would take me to make that kind of money on my salary?”
John laughed for a moment, and said, “Then why is she wearing raggedy shoes, underwear, and handbag?”
“Wealthy benefactor, you think?” asked Ryan, his interest perked.
“I don’t know,” said John, rubbing his chin. “This woman may have looked rich, but she certainly wasn’t rich. Perhaps it was her sister, who had come into money.”
“What are you thinking?” Ryan inquired.
“I’m thinking, it is freezing cold out here and the rain has washed out any chance we had at recovering any more details from the crime scene,” said John, picking himself up. “I’m going back to the station. I should notify Vargas’ closest known relatives. Bag and tag the rest of the crime scene.”
“Yeah, I get it; let the partner clean up the bloody mess,” said Ryan, with a smirk stretched across his face. “Good luck, John. This never gets any easier, does it?”
“No, Ryan,” replied John, looking back at his partner. “It doesn’t get any easier.”
John left the shelter of the tent, and back into the pouring rain. His hands so wet that he dropped his keys trying to unlock the car door.
In the corner of his eye, a small metal object gleamed from underneath the car. Reaching down, John clawed at the object with his fingers. Grabbing hold of it, he brought the item up to eye level.
It was an earring, John noted, only Louisa had not been wearing earrings that fateful night. Much like the dress, it was expensive and very much out of place in this area. John decided the object wasn’t important enough to catalog, placing the item in his jacket pocket as he entered the police car.
Chapter Two
Back at the police station, John walked through the back door and into a whirlwind of aggravation.
“Damn it, John,” said an older man, greeting John as he walked in the door. “We’ve got a hellish shit storm in there.”
“What is it, Chief?” asked John as he was escorted down the hall. He could already hear the commotion from behind the door, the rumblings from the other room growing louder and more tumultuous with each step towards the door.
Police Chief Barry Stevenson was a good man, with white hair, slicked back across his head. He was tough as nails, and even at the age of 61, he could still probably take most cadets in a fight. A bit rough around the edges, but when push came to shove, Barry had always came through for John.
“The victim’s brother-in-law is Richard Carter, for Christ’s sake,” answered Barry, stopping their walk before they entered in the main lobby. “He owns nearly a quarter of the god damn city. This is the last thing I wanted to happen.”
“Just my luck,” murmured, patting the Police Chief on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Chief, I’ve got this.”
They opened the door to the main lobby and instantly John’s vision went to the beautiful woman next to Richard Carter. A Spanish immigrant woman, she must have been the sister of the victim, Louisa Vargas.
The woman was tall and slender. She had long black hair, and the tightest spinner’s body, with legs that ran for miles. Her silky smooth breasts almost popped out of her tight black dress, as she leaned over the counter.
With looks to kill for, she was a woman who knew how to get what she want; and she had gotten one of the most powerful people in the city of West Hollywood.
Her husband, Richard, was a good looking man, though probably twice her age. His hair was almost completely grey now, but still he maintained much of his youthful good-looks. She certainly could have done worse, John thought.
“What do you mean that you have no leads?” asked Richard to the helpless female officer at the counter, visibly upset and shaken at the news.
“We’re not at liberty to discuss that information, sir,” said a receptionist at the counter. “I’ve told you three times now—.”
“I’ll take it from here,” said John, excusing the bewildered receptionist who stood shaking in her boots. “Mr. Carter, I’m John Saunders and I’m working the case involving Louisa Vargas.”
“Finally, someone to talk to around here,” said Richard, with a sigh of relief. “Do you have any news?”
“Like the receptionist said, I cannot discuss those issues just yet,” John began. “But let me assure you, they’ve got their best man on the case, and I won’t stop until I find out who’s done this.”
“That’s it?” asked Richard, becoming red in the face. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me—!”
“Excuse me, Mr. Saunders, is it?” asked the woman, pushing her husband aside in mid sentence. Her breasts bulged out of her dress as she pressed her arms together, accentuating her sinuous curves. Her thighs ran for days, and the slit in her dress showed much to be desired. She was a real doll, John thought, and she knew it. “My name is Ana, and there must be something you can do…or perhaps something that I can do for you?”
“This is ridiculous!” shouted Richard, now pacing the room. “I’ve just about had it. I’m going to get my own investigator on this. You’re all completely useless!”
And with that, Richard began to storm out the station. The ground almost shook as he strode towards the front door, the rage emanating from him with each movement.
“Mr. Carter!” John shouted back. “We could use any information you have—!”
“Oh ignore him,” interrupted Ana, using her hand to turn John’s gaze back upon her. “The man is a fool. For a man with so much money, he cannot even see what is in front of him. Tell me that you are not one of these men?”
“No miss, I am not,” said John, getting hard in the pants. “Is there anything you can tell me about last night, any information could prove useful.”
“I’m afraid not, Detective Saunders,” Ana replied. “Though you could always try my place, Louisa stays with my husband and me at our place. The silly girl couldn’t even find her own man to support her. Poor thing… and now she’s dead.”
John had hours of work ahead of him, and really didn’t have the time to make a house call, and there were plenty of officers itching at the chance to spend time with Ana Carter. John considered his options, but one look at the beautiful woman standing in front of him changed all that. A smile broke across his face, as he accepted her invitation and was led by hand out the front door.
Chapter Three
Louisa’s room was undersized compared to all the other vast rooms in the Carter residence. Simple could describe just about everything in the room, only made more noticeable by the few extravagant objects scattered around the room, such.
“Did she ever have any gentleman visitors?” asked John, checking underneath the bed.
“None,” replied Ana, walking up beside John.
“Then what’s with all the expensive trinkets?” inquired John, as he pulled yet another fancy bauble out from underneath the bed.
“My husband and I felt bad for Louisa sometimes, and we would buy her some things,” said Ana, her hands running through her black hair as she licked her lips.
As John lifted himself up from beside the bed, his head grazed Ana’s thigh, her silky smooth skin beckoning for him to come closer.
“Y—yeah, that makes sense,” stuttered John, having completely lost his train of thought. John was a good detective, but he was also a man; a man that was completely captivated by the beautiful Spanish immigrant that was ripe and ready for the picking.
Ana smelled like lavender, and her looks were divine. She placed a palm delicately on her shoulder, and asked, “Can I get you something… to eat?”
John thought a moment about all the possibilities a woman like her could provide. Of course, Ana couldn’t have meant it that way. Not wanting to make a fool out of himself, John just asked for some rye, neat.
They exited the bedroom and into the living room. Ana left the room and headed for the kitchen, while John made himself comfortable on the couch. The living room was stunning, much like the rest of their hillside mansion. Crystal vases and golden furniture were laid out prominently, and numerous in number. Large, arching ceilings surrounded the area, elevated by the plentiful marble pillars littered throughout the room.
“I hope this is to your liking,” said Ana, exiting the kitchen without any drinks in hand.
Ana ran her fingers up towards her graceful neckline, and unfastened her dress. The gown fell to the floor, revealing her firm breasts, and toned thighs.
Walking towards John, Ana grabbed hold of his leather belt, and said, “Take me now, Detective.”
John was no stranger to the opposite sex, a regular at the local brothers, but for the first time in his career, John gave in to temptation while working a case. John dropped to his knees, and begun kissing at the stomach of Ana. His tongue ran along her milky soft skin, playfully finding every sensitive crevasse she had to offer. Running his hands up her thighs, he grabbed hold of her rear end, and gave it a mischievous squeeze.
Ana moaned in anticipation of the penetration yet to come, already dripping wet as the juices started to dribble down her legs.
John noticed this too, and started to run his tongue up the thigh of Ana. It found its slithering way to her pussy, and he began pleasuring her orally. His tongue dashed inside and out, and gave circular little licks to her clitoris.
Ana’s moans were getting louder and louder, John noted, but he wasn’t surprised. If there was one thing he did as well at as his job, it was sex. He realized a long time ago, that the more fun a woman has, the more fun the man will have.
Thighs quivering, Ana clawed at John’s hair begging him for more.
John picked himself up, and hoisted Ana up to his waist. He wrapped Ana’s legs around him, and walked her over to the couch.
John tossed her on the couch, and began licking at her ankles. His tongue ran up her thigh, around her stomach, and past her breasts. As John’s lips touched Ana’s, he entered into her tight pussy with a powerful thrust of the hips.
His cock slid in easy, as her pussy had already been flowing. Fast and hard, that’s how Ana liked it; and that’s exactly how she got it.
Faster and faster, John continued. Screwing to the left, and then screwing to the right. Ana’s screamed in pleasure, as she grabbed hold of his strong buttocks. John’s cock continued drive deeper into her tight vagina. With one strong push, John drove deep inside, holding his spot deep inside her. He looked at her, and said, “Get on me, now.”
They rolled over, switching positions, John now sitting down as Ana climbed on top of him. Her tight pussy grinded up against his throbbing member, as John picked her up and dropped her down on his hard and devouring manhood.
Ana screamed in orgasm as his cock dove yet even deeper into her wet pussy. John quickly raised and lowered her, sending them both into ecstasy as his hard cock crashed against the soft and sensitive walls of her tight pussy.
John cummed into Ana, his cum bursting forward deep inside her vagina.
Ana rolled back her eyes in pleasure; as this is exactly what she needed. For as powerful a man as her husband was, he couldn’t do anything like what she had just experienced.nnThey knew what they had done was wrong, they just didn’t care.
John was going to care a great deal, however, as he noticed a small object on the coffee table that had caught his eye. The sun glimmered off the metallic object, as John rolled Ana off of him and picked himself up off the couch. He pulled up his pants, and walked over to the table.
He couldn’t believe it, as he reached into his own pocket and pulled out the expensive earring from the crime scene today. On the table was an earring, and in his hand was the matching pair. The only possible explanation was that Ana had been there that night.
How could he have been so foolish? He had been blinded by passion, and it may have cost him the entire case. The only issue he had now was what he should do with the panting, naked broad on the couch beside him.
Chapter Four
“You think I killed my sister?” asked Ana, cuffed to her chair. “How dare you?”
Detective John Saunders may have let a passionate moment get in the way of his case, but he still had a job to do. He had taken Ana Carter into custody, and had already begun interrogating her.
John paced around the interrogation room, deciding where to steer the conversation. His superiors were watching through the mirrored room beside them, listening to every word said. One wrong statement and Ana could ruin his whole career; his whole career, just a flash in the pan.
“I’m not saying that you killed your sister, Mrs. Carter,” said John, taking a seat across from Ana. “I just want to know how you arrived at the scene of the crime.”
Ana looked around for a moment, her eyes fluttering with panic. She was scared, that much was clear to John. She knew something.
“We’ve got a positive match on the earrings,” John continued. “We can place you at the scene murder. Help yourself out, and just tell us what happened.”
John was pushing hard, maybe a little too hard. He half expected Ana to demand her lawyer. And with the money she had, it would have probably been the best lawyer in the city.
Ana never did make that demand, however, as she burst into tears; ready to give her confession.
“He said he would kill me!” cried Ana, raising her hands to cover her grief-stricken face as the tears streamed from her eyes.
“Who said they would kill you, Mrs. Carter?” John asked.
“My husband, Richard,” said Ana, tears streaming down her face. “He drove the three of us to that parking lot, in the bad part of town. He told Louisa to get out, and then proceeded to stab her to death. He got back in the car, and said that if I ever repeated this, to anyone, that he would kill me, too.”
“Why, Mrs. Carter?” John asked. “What possible reason could your husband have for wanting your sister dead?”
“They were having an affair,” Ana said. “…If you could call it that. Richard had an insatiable lust for things he couldn’t have, and when my sister arrived on U.S. soil, he had to have her.”
“I found out shortly after,” Ana continued. “Louisa came into my room late one night, barely comprehendible and bawling her eyes out. She was going to leave, and return home. I begged her to stay, but she was stubborn and head-strong, and wouldn’t listen. A few days later, she would be dead.”
John looked towards the mirror with a blank expression on his face. His partner, Ryan, who was on the other side of the mirror, knew exactly what John was trying to say.
Ryan called for several officers to come over, and said, “We’re going to be putting a warrant out for the arrest of Richard Carter. Before that goes out, I want you officers to find Mr. Carter, and put a tail on him. He’s too powerful, and likely having inside information on the case at hand. If he escapes our reach, we’ll never get him again.”
Ryan hurried the officers out the door, while John continued his interrogation on the other side of the mirror.
“Mrs. Carter, you’re prepared to testify against you husband in court?” John asked.
“I am,” replied Ana, steadying her voice.
John noticed she had already become more confident since making her confession, as she had stopped crying, and became surer of herself.
“Do you have any proof of this?” John inquired.
“You saw all the expensive baubles in her room,” said Ana, lighting up a cigarette. “Gifts for every time he would ravish her body. Somehow, Richard thought the gifts would wash away all the tears and emotional distraught. He was a real son of a bitch.”
That was just what John needed to hear. He may yet have been able to salvage this case. All he needed to do now was find Richard Carter and bring him in to custody; as if one of West Hollywood’s most powerful men would so openly accept surrender.
Chapter Five
“We’ve got a report that he fled into one of his construction sites,” said Ryan, driving both John and himself to the scene. “We’ve got two unmarked cars parked at both exits. He’s not going anywhere.”
And so, the two Detectives drove to bring Richard Carter in. If he was at a construction site, then that’s where they were headed.
The police car barreled through the streets, sirens blaring as it swerved all over the road. They had a small window, and they were going to make sure they got this bastard. For if Richard managed to escape them, he would have the resources to go anywhere in the world, before they even knew he’d left.
The car peeled into the construction site, turning up dirt and gravel as the car screeched to a stop and the two Detectives rushed out of their car.
“Where do you think he’s gone?” asked Ryan, taking cover behind the car.
Richard could have been armed for all they knew, and with a case this important, they weren’t going to take any more chances.