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| Joyous proletarian women of the Soviet is happiness! |
History has offered us no greater example of a strong, independent woman than that of Pepper MacOralby--a woman of smouldering sensuality, bold initiative, and throbbing independence.
On this joyous occasion, we offer you an excerpt from Pepper's adventures. May she serve as a bold example to us all.
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Taken from "Pirates of the Danube", p. 34 - 35.
Pepper walked past the brothel. Almost without
thinking, she drifted towards Spunker’s Tavern, drawn in by some inexplicable
magnetism. A spark inside Pepper flickered into a flame—a preternatural drive
was raging in her loins. She walked in a delirious daze, as if she were
suffering from rickets, or venesection, or the dropsy fever, or any of the
other diseases which were very popular during that period in history.
Pepper stepped into the tavern and set her eyes
decisively on the young doctor Sigmund Freud.
“Why, Miss MacOralby! What a pleasant surprise! I’ve a
queer topic to bring to your attention, Fräulein. You must sit down. This is an
intellectual curiosity which you mustn’t let pass you by.”
Pepper flung one leg, then the other, over the bench
and sat down with brisk gravity, allowing her décolletage to bounce slightly
against the wood of the table. The young doctor’s face flushed; his puppy-dog
eyes stared downward towards his pewter mug of mead.
“I really must warn you, Miss MacOralby. I fear the
worst for our fair city. The peasantry...rumour has it that the indentured
servants have been conjuring up an ancient evil...”
Pepper leaned in closer, allowing her cleavage to
decadently spill from her bodice onto the chequered tablecloth.
“There are dark deeds afoot in Vienna,” Freud
continued, visibly growing more nervous.
Pepper pursed her lips, staring into Doctor Freud’s
brown eyes with collagen-grade intensity.
“I tell you, ancient rites are being practiced to
awaken it, Miss MacOralby...”
And then Pepper stood from her seat and leaned across
the table, knocking over the doctor’s mead with her bosoms. She stooped towards
Sigmund’s pale, thin face, grasped the nape of his neck with her hand, and
pulled him towards her. And she kissed him. Her mouth overcame him, dominating
his tongue, his warmth. Pepper willed his lips to life like an ancient Viennese
paramedic.
Pepper could feel her white flower transforming inside
her, metamorphosing into a grand Venus flytrap, pulling Sigmund in, consuming
his innocence. She had been hunted by the Baron. Now she was becoming the
huntress.
To read more, purchase "Pirates of the Danube" on amazon.com or in the Kindle Store, or in any bookstore near you which has the poor taste to carry this book.
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