You’re going to fall in love with Annie Smith. This story is based on lesbian romance.
This is the story of Annie Smith, a prostitute living in the Covent Garden area in the mid 1800’s. The area was rife with prostitution during this era and held no exception to Annie’s plight. Forced by her mother to work in this trade she is determined to find a way out of this life at any cost. When she meets a married man quite by sheer accident she is offered an unusual way to leave this sordid existence behind her.
Annie is extremely grateful for her new found role in life and for a while she accepts this to be the right choice. But soon her life will change again when she meets her Dark Cully’s wife, Mrs. Rose Rotherham, a fine and beautiful woman who happens to be high up in the social circle of London. Annie is besotted with her and has to find a way into her life and when she manages to find that avenue there is literally, hell to pay.
My name is Amelia Haversham, or at least it is now. I was born Annie Smith, an only daughter to Margaret and Frederick Smith. We lived in the slums, an area just by Covent Garden. It was a dirty and disgusting area where only the rats would find a good feast to chew on, and the unpleasant smell of dank buildings would fill your nostrils. And a beggar would be huddled in a corner somewhere trying to spend another night without croaking it from the cold. The sky would be filled with streams of grey smoke billowing out from the chimney tops and never was there a day where I didn’t blow my nose without black soot appearing on my sleeve. When the lamplighter did his nightly walk and lit the gaslights around the gardens, prostitutes would flock to the area and stand beneath the bright lights wearing their skirts and petticoats tucked up into their waistbands in order to show a little leg. This was a known ritual, a selling proposition so there would be no mistakes as to what to expect from her.
The area was useful for its purposes, it was a haven for prostitutes to hang around and make a few shillings on the quiet. There were plenty of good spots to catch the eye of a sailor, or a needy gentleman who happened to seek a good seeing to after a night out down the local boozer. A girl could give him the service that he’d paid for, maybe use the old quail pipe on his lobcock and in return he’d give a bit of dab on her downy spring moss without being caught by the local blue bottles and spending the evening locked away in a cell, courtesy of her majesty Queen Victoria.
I used to be one of those girls, the type caught up in, ‘The Great Evil.’ That’s what many who sympathised with our needs would call it anyway. But my situation is different now. I was lucky enough to find myself a dark cully, he was a kind enough man when I first met him, the sort to keep me on the straight and narrow anyway. He turned my head and I never looked back after that. But if anyone was to ask me if I loved him, my Mr. Rotherham, I would have one of two options to answer their question with. I could tell a lie and say that I loved the bones off the back of his body until the day I died. Or I could tell the truth and say I don’t love him. I never have and I never will. There is one thing though, I am grateful for his kindness and I do adore the way that he avoids being seen out in the daylight hours when he comes to visit me, but then again isn’t that what a dark cully is?
But he’s my dark cully, a married man with a family, a wife and a home that he will never leave, he’s hammered for life that one. A dark cully will never be seen out and about with his mistress he’d have to be off his blooming rocker to take his ladybird out. That’s what I used to be, a ladybird, a dollymop. At least I was the pretty one and I made more push than any of the other whores put together. They were so jealous of me. I actually thought that I was going to get nobbled by one of em too just for having the pretty looks that I did.
Lissie one of the street girls I knew, she had really bad teeth, black and rotten and half of em missing, she would tell me that if she looked half like me then she’d make twice as much gilt as she did now. Poor girl, she was practically a beggar herself, a bunter that’s what she was. Gawd knows the types of blokes she managed to latch on to, must have sort out the lushington’s when they’d been kicked out of the pub after last orders had been called.
If I had to describe myself, well I would say that I have long straight dark brown hair but I could be wrong there on accordance that it had never been washed in years. It could be blonde I don’t really remember, maybe the dirt turned it to the colour it is now. But at least I have my teeth, made sure no bugger knocked them out when he had a bit of the old fancy and got heavy handed with me. No I learned how to take care of myself I did, any funny business and I’d give em a good hiding I would.
Lissie says that my eyes are brown but I say they’re brown with bits of green in em. We had a barny over it once and neither one of us would admit we was wrong but I know I’m right.
This book will be available on Amazon and Smashwords and various other sites at a release day special of 99 cents.