Casanova Da Vinci
Copyright © 2016 Casanova Da Vinci
All rights reserved.
Before The Bordello Tales Collection, there was The Club, a potential Script for Screen. It was when joining The North Gable Projects Team, Leeds, UK, that I discovered the lime light that I needed to get my work seen…
Thanks to this Team, I am now in a place that I feel more than comfortable. Thank You.
The North Gable Projects Team (UK)
The Red Hive Publishing Co.
MKDS of The North Gable Projects Team
KT North (UK)
My Family. My Friends. My Readers.
1 The Factory
Redstone, Seacliffe, the hardline 1980’s; lives are touched by both luck and fate in this action packed violent crime thriller that looks deep into The Underground world of Clubs, their Owners and the people who shaped an entire generation.
Joshua Warburton is a nineteen-year-old opportunist; if it isn’t nailed down or secured, Joshua will claim it as his own. But times are changing – The Jilted Generation is spawned.
Warren (The Jackal – Self named) Jackson is a Club Owner of The Factory and Underground Boss in Redstone, one of Seacliffe’s worst hit areas for violent crimes, street gangs and gangland killings. Dubbed ‘Fire City’ because of its red sand foundations, the local police find themselves defenseless against the Gangs and their Leaders. A new initiative has been given the go ahead – but this is not without its technical problems.
Max Kingsley is a University Student who is down on his luck, when the police arrest him for Disturbing the Peace. When it is found that he has a warrant out on him already for the murder of a man in Briarsdale, he is offered a deal that may well have been a big mistake. For Love he will do what needs to be done, freedom he will do whatever is necessary to get him through the journey alive.
A true “Love gained, Love lost, Tragedy” tale – but with a twist so crude that it will leave you breathless!!
1 The Factory
The Devil’s Crown – The Hardline 80’s
The Sunset Strip that stretched the whole length of the 105 was ablaze with the loud revs and roars of heavily customized cars; Japanese imports mostly while through the dust clouds more common GTO’s and Chargers made their way to the top of The Devil’s Crown starting position. The pyre burning its beacon that could be seen throughout the whole city of Redstone, signaled the beginning of the races that ran sixty-six miles in crisscross formations around deep L-bends, tight alleys, sheer faced cliffs and hazardous conditions. All of this added up to “Devil’s Run 66”: The Redstone Race Circuit.
For me it had been a long day, the stress from working two jobs that didn’t appreciate my skillset sent me into an oblivious and parallax overture that could only be quenched by road and rubber.
‘You’re fucking late, man, you were supposed to have been up here ten minutes ago,’ Justin Danes shouted across a clump of cars being worked on in the Pull Pits.
There was a reason I was late, I just preferred not to bite to the SOB.
‘Did you pick up the parts I asked for?’ I asked avoiding his question that would have only resulted in a slagging match.
Justin pointed over to our Pull Pit where I set my eyes on the Viper; The Viper was both all-American and a true exotic, with lots of curves and bulges in all the right places to let you know it means business. The long nose, bodacious body, and predatory stare gave the Viper a menacing look, while its 645-hp, 8.4-liter V-10 could catapult it to 60 mph in about three seconds – but this was the Viper ACR, with all kinds of aero aids, special tires by Kumho and carbon-ceramic brakes that Dodge says is the fastest Viper on any racetrack.
‘What do you think?’ Justin asked, turning to the small cabinet and taking a hold of the keys before throwing them in my direction.
Catching them out of the air with no hesitation I jumped inside to the soothing welcome of the hi-res leather upholstery, it’s almost liquid change of shape holding me into place perfectly.
‘She’s beautiful. Who am I racing?’ I spoke dreamily, my thoughts already envisioning the open roads, the challenging bends and, of course, the thrilling curves.
Justin was quiet – silent.
Turning to look through the passenger side window I was met with a very warm smile hanging from a young woman who was dressed in a yellow canary colored dress, holding what appeared to be a glass of champagne and Gucci handbag. She was cold.
‘You’re the winner, right?’ She asked almost convincingly.
The streets were the real school establishments around Redstone, and there was hardly anyone who didn’t know the ‘Ball-Breaker Maneuver’ before now, which came to an unexpected conclusion.
‘Nice try, Lady, but that died with the last Ark!’ I laughed.
The woman suddenly opened the door and jumped in by the side of me, it was not unusual in its occurrence, just kind of creepy to say that the Totty usually jumped in after the race – and this was only for the winner.
‘You have to save my life!’ She bleated winding up the window. ‘Will you help me?’
Justin was stood waiting for me to give him a sign as to pull the woman from the car and send her on her way home, or wherever it was she had come from. My head nodded.
‘Put your seat-belt on, we’re going for a drive.’ I announced just before wheel spinning away from the Pull Pit onto the main entry lane that would bring us up to The Devil’s Crown Starting post.
The young woman, obviously oblivious to the whole race thing was looking out of her window and acting strange; her body was fidgety and uncomfortable, nervous and panicky.
‘You ever raced here before?’ I asked pointing at the Start Line.
Something told me that she had, and not only by the looks of it, but maybe had an episode whilst driving The 66.
‘You’ll be fine, I’ve driven this track a hundred times before…’
‘Isn’t that what they all say?’ She exclaimed sitting back in her seat and taking a hold of the passenger support handle above the door to her right.
Whether everyone said this to the women it was irrelevant to me, the road was my life, my soul, even my whole being. The feel of the acceleration, the strain on the Torque, grip of the tyres and the scent of the air that circulated around the night; the intoxicating smell of petrol, diesel, methane and NOS invading every sense, nerve and chasm in my body, as the first rush of adrenaline was unleashed.
The acceleration was flawless, the one and a half ton muscle car was up at the front, the rear tyres spinning with whines before leaving the smoke ridden tar mac with aggressive gripping force.
‘HOLY SHIT! ’ The young woman cried out in excitement.
The race had begun, my opponent unknown, the road clear.
The first turn was “The Kidney Punch”; 5.8 miles of both sharp right and left turns that had your whole entire body stuck in one battling position to stay leant from one to the other, which to be fair did have its moments of cramp and pain. In the Viper, however, the tilt-tronic seats made the ride less tense and more intense.
‘Fuck! Is that ninety-five?’ She gasped pointing at the speedo.
Looking down quickly from the road to the speedometer I checked the speed and sure enough it was showing ninety-five miles per hour on the clock. I couldn’t believe my eyes at first, until looking again and seeing that the car was stable at fast speeds.
‘Open the glove box, there’s a tablet in there…switch it on and tell me where we are on the map?’ I called over to her now relaxing body that seemed to destress from its inward decline.
She took the tablet in her hands and switched it on.
‘We’re coming to the end of The Kidney Punch, only one and a half miles left.’ She said bringing the distance to my attention.
Pulling on the gears I geared down before allowing the accelerator to rise beneath my feet, as with a slight nudge on the brakes the car started to roar intermittently as it decelerated just in time to make the cautious drive through Bluff Point and down a steep hill toward the treacherous Catcher Bay, its steep incline catapulting car and driver around an almost 360 circle, but for the close corner that in all the times I had driven that part of the road, I myself knew that it needed to be done in second gear, no higher, no lower gear would do but second.
‘You’re a pretty good driver, friend, my name is Tiffany,’ she began to introduce herself to me, as I lined up the steering for the Coaster Road.
‘Joshua,’ I replied with a glowing smile that had my face light up like Christmas. ‘Joshua Warburton, pleased to meet you Tiffany.’
For the rest of the ride the young woman directed me through the worst of the turns, warned me of oncoming dangers and even had a friend of hers text whenever our opponent came too close to us.
By the time we reached Redstone Falls, the night had become almost black with hardly any stars in the sky at all. The headlights beamed their light far off in the distance, the flickering light on occasion picking out potential Road Kill blinking their eyes at the side of the road. It was starting to become automated the way that I went up or down a gear, turned the wheel, pressed the brake…I was becoming anxious. And at 215 mph that was not a good state to be in, not at any break-neck speed.
‘Are you okay?’ She asked, placing a hand on the inside of my leg.
Glancing down I immediately looked up into Tiffany’s eyes.
Leaving Redstone Falls, we entered the diversion road of Snake Pass, to cut across The Drive and up into what the many locals called The Devil’s Mouth; 220 feet of sheer rock face that had an inverted wall structure overlooking the whole city of Redstone.
‘We have twelve miles left before The Sunset Strip…The Devil’s Mouth,’ Tiffany whispered almost silently, her voice low and afraid of speaking the run out loud in case it was bad luck.
‘It’s okay, I’ve got this.’ I spoke up into the silence while taking a hold of her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘You’ve done this before, right?’
Tiffany nodded. ‘My Brother, Michael, he used to bring me on all of his races here in Redstone.’ She replied pointing from the tablet to the road showing me the surface was weak and worn. ‘Second, then third, then back down into second. Got it?’
I nodded before coming to the point of The Devil’s Mouth where so many victim’s had lost their lives, young and old, it didn’t matter because death as we all knew was not picky or choosy about who it was going to take from each and every race.
‘This race, what does it get you?’ She asked suddenly while frequently glancing down to see the marker on the tablet screen.
I knew exactly what she was getting at. ‘Peace of mind.’
Tiffany was kind of confused to the fact that other drivers out there were in it for the money, while others preferred to keep their own reasons to themselves. I didn’t, however, it was for the challenge rather than the cash – it always was.
The Devil’s Mouth had three Peaks that protruded outward toward the valley below it; the first Peak was nicknamed Twat, the second Bastard and the third Cunt, because each turn, incline and corner had every car driver door suffering some deep scathing or tearing scratch that pissed you off just enough to make one of two life altering decision’s: lose your temper and lose the road, or simply just gain your composure and get through to the end.
As we made our final adjustments through the last Peak, Tiffany turned around in her seat to see our opponent gaining speed on us.
‘He’s point five, point four…Put your foot down!’ She yelled out at the top of her voice.
I had already engaged third gear, accelerating more, changing into fourth and then finally into fifth gear below the sixth. The other car was now only a short distance behind us, his NOS already used up from the starting line – a very stupid mistake.
‘Let’s see what this baby can really do!’ I said pushing in the NOS button that stood out at us in a bright neon circular blue light on the dashboard.
NOS was dangerous, if used in the wrong hands. The twin, eight pounds, fifteen liter tanks that released the contents into a reactive chamber pushed the Viper with an ease that for a moment had myself and the Tiffany lift off of our seats and hang in the air, as though jumping an invisible ramp – but there was no ramp…This was thrust.
The Viper howled with power, the engine driving us forever closer to the final few miles of the finish line. The steering was smooth, the early tracking alignment changing what was rear wheel drive and initiating All Wheel Drive. Now all four wheels dug into the track and sped victoriously over the finish line to a rapturous welcome applause.
Meet My Dad – Mr. Jackson
Admittedly, I never put myself down to being the kind of person who would meet the parents of any girl, never mind one I’d only just met and known five minutes. But Tiffany had this look that told me that I would be okay with her around, so maybe that was the reason I accepted the invitation to meet her Father, Warren (The Jackal) Jackson, but not for the first time in my life. I was nervous.
‘Joshua, this is my Father, Mr. Jackson,’ she suddenly announced as I was about to take a swig of champagne from my glass.
Turning to face him, he and I knew immediately that once, in a far off segment of space and time, we had actually met one another on different terms and circumstances.
‘Hello Joshua, how are you treating my daughter?’ He welcomed me with an automatic question that was toned in a warning.
Tiffany cut in and took me by the arm, leading me away from her Father and telling me to meet her back at the car. Agreeing I gave Mr. Jackson a warm smile and left Tiffany to talk with him alone.
By the time she had returned back to the car I had already met up with Justin, who informed me he had fitted the new part to the Viper. I was already to move on.
Tiffany was acting peculiar somehow, though I put this down to me now having met with her Father.
‘Is everything okay?’ I asked starting up the engine and turning to her for an answer. ‘Did you speak with your Father?’
She sat blank faced for a moment. ‘Everything’s okay.’
The night had passed into day by the time we reached the city of Redstone, the normal lives of those driving and commuting to work, leaving work to drive and commute back home filling the streets.
‘Breakfast!’ Tiffany suddenly exclaimed, her finger pointing at the roadside where a Diner displayed a sign: Big Breakfast only £3.00.
I was never one for Breakfast first thing in the morning especially, but it seemed a good opportunity to grab a hot coffee before I returned home to get some rest from the night before.
The Diner was filling up fast with regulars and strangers alike, while outside the city was finally coming back to life after its big sleep. Dolly the Waitress made her way over to the table that both Tiffany and I spotted empty near the window and sat down, her pen and pad pulled up to her ample sized chest ready to take our orders; Tiffany’s a small Café Solo, toast and jam. For me, I chose a cup of the fresh smelling roast coffee that frequented the air along with the grills and fry-ups.
‘Excuse me…’ I glanced at the name tag on her tabard, ‘Dolly, do you have a phone I can use here?’
Both the Waitress and Tiffany looked at me strangely, it was almost as if using the public telephone was a crime. After looking me up and down she finally swayed her head in the direction of the Toilets at the other end of the Diner. Thanking her I excused myself before leaving Tiffany at the table on her own while I went to make a private call.
On my return from the phone, I was met with a friendly face – Justin. He had taken the idea of calling into the Diner, too, along with a young woman he had hooked up with at the race.
‘Hey, Justin, are you joining us for breakfast?’ I asked greeting him with a pat on the back.
Introducing me to the young woman, Sophie, Justin made his apologies for not being able to stay and eat before they both left the Diner and disappeared into the crowd. From the counter Dolly had returned with the food and drinks that we had ordered, so much the fact I was gagging for caffeine, I lifted the cup from the Waitresses tray before she’d composed herself to serve and began to sip at it quickly.
‘I’d be very careful…with that, it’s hot!’ She warned before walking off back to the counter.
My asbestos mouth was nothing on hot drinks – of any kind. The hot welcome liquid was my perfect amber nectar; a ceremonious trickery of defeating the heat, while at the same time enjoying the essence that invaded my body and senses.
‘Wow! You almost fucked that coffee! It excites me to think that you would do something like that with a normal woman…like me, perhaps, or Dolly, even.’ She whispered dreamily.
The actions I had taken hardly went unnoticed by others there that morning, one woman in particular on the next table was fanning herself down, drinking water and shifting in her seat. But for seeing that glazed look in her eyes, I would never have noticed.
‘Sorry about that,’ I apologized to both women in turn, my gaze and sincerities to the other woman bringing confusion to Tiffany. ‘ I love coffee, what can I say?’
Quickly eating her toast and drinking our drinks we left the Diner to get into the car. Tiffany stopped.
‘Have you ever been to Redstone Falls?’ She asked suddenly.
Redstone Falls was notorious for being one of the Key Points of “The Devil’s Race”, it’s sheer fall making it impossible for anyone, driver or civilian to come back from.
‘Come on, it’ll be good for you…wake you up enough to stop you thinking about that coffee you just brought to orgasm!’ She laughed jumping into the car and strapping herself in.
I guess I could have said no, but I didn’t. Only when I was getting into the car did I hear a strangers voice call over to me from The Flaming Star pub across the road from the Diner.
‘That is one nice car my friend,’ he said admiring the bodywork.
I thanked him before telling him I was in a hurry, but he was not having any of it. Two other men came from side alleys, one in front and one behind, but all the same they were with the stranger who had called over to me.
‘We want your wheels, man! Your car and the tramp you got sat in the seat, too.’ He demanded ignorantly.
‘My wheels are kind of special, so, if you don’t mind?’
The first man who had approached from behind was the first to have a go, his hand sailing past my ear and kicking in my instincts instantly. My avoiding his fist bringing the stranger to try and take me down with a missing swing to my jaw. Finding the perfect moment I dropped to my knees, punching out into the strangers groin, just after his fist made contact with the other man and sent him to the ground. The stranger grabbed his balls and stiffened up before he, too, fell to the floor with a loud moan. The third man was now making his way to me with haste, when from nowhere Tiffany jumped through the air and kicked the man unconscious.
‘Sorry, I didn’t want you having all the fun, you know?’ She winked a smile that told me that she could handle herself well.
‘Your Father, he knows me…’
‘I know, I’m sorry,’ she said with disappointment in her voice.
Without another word until we got into the car and started off to Redstone Falls, Tiffany told me of her talk with Mr. Jackson. Her voice carried itself across the air with patterns of hesitation, while her face glowed with the early morning sunrise that captured the very face that had me enchanted almost to her beauty.
‘The deal is…something that my Father refers to, not me, if it was left to me, you would be free…’
‘Did you know?’ I asked, cutting her off from her conversation.
She looked at me confused and a little angry at the interruption.
‘Did I know what?’ She asked looking deep into my eyes.
I steered the car with half concentration on the road, while my other half fought and battled against something that was never to be beaten or defeated.
‘Did you know before, or after the race…Before getting into my car and giving me that bullshit story about being in danger, I mean?’ I explained in not so many words as to get into an argument or toxic debate with her.
‘No!’ She cried looking down at her footwear in the foot well.
‘No? No, you didn’t know before the race, or No, you did know but you’re not going to tell me?’ I exclaimed loudly.
Insisting that I pull over to the side – something that you should never do on any road in Redstone – I obliged with the sound of screeching tyres and brakes. Coming to a sudden stop that had us both forced forward, though not close enough to the steering wheel or dashboard that would cause any injury. Tiffany sat back in her seat, her hair looking like it had been pulled through a hedge backwards, while my own fell back into place. And so, finding it difficult to continue the serious conversation with finding it so amusing, I reached over and pulled down the visor, pointing at the mirror. She looked, of course, and she died, just like all those other women who have been caught on a bad hair day did with shame.
‘Let me drive!’ She shouted with a rage far worse than the Cycle Rage that showed the red eyed monster of their hormones. This was not “That time of the month” for Tiffany, this was something a hell of a lot worse – Pride of Vanity.
‘Nobody drives this car but me.’ I informed her, before she jumped out and back in, pushing me over into the passenger seat.
‘Fasten your seat belt and be quiet, please?’ She said with a slip of conviction in her voice, something that she would live to regret.
Admittedly, Tiffany was a good, if not great driver. Her handling of the Viper was incredible, especially on the corners which opened out into twelve hundred acres of woodland, swamps and a river that stretched all the way to Borello, North Yorkshire. The whole place was a hot spot for everyone in Redstone, everyone had been there at some point of their life, while everyone of them had a tale to tell. This included Tiffany and me, also.
‘I haven’t been here since I was at High School,’ she gasped looking forward of the windscreen and admiring the beauty of the land in front of us. ‘This is magical.’
Pulling up a few hundred feet in front of Redstone Lake, she told me to get out and head for the embankment. Walking down I thanked my lucky stars that she didn’t have a gun; the ease of killing those who have weapons pointing at no other way was a half measure of guilt, while those who were not armed were the victims of some unbeknown intervention of fate – shit happens for a reason, and the reasoning in my head at that moment was of protecting myself no matter the cost. I had nothing to lose, but my life.
‘Are you going to kill me, Tiffany?’ I asked turning to look her in the eye. ‘Have you killed anyone for your Father before?’
The question was clear, so all that she had to do was answer it, hopefully honestly and truthfully for both our sakes.
‘There is a race tonight at The Devil’s Crown, my Father has a large wager on the winner, and whoever wins, is to be set free from any debt or incursions. I trust you are familiar with the 880 Route?’
At first I thought that she was inviting me to watch a race that night, not actually telling me that I was a part of one. Mr. Jackson had made my life a lie in the winning of the legendary “880 Route”, one of the most dangerous tracks in Redstone. Nobody used the old route anymore, of course, not since it was shut down by the local authorities and racers alike. It was a very mutual and unanimous decision that saved more than a hundred racers a year, so what made her so sure that I would take part in a race that would most probably kill me in the process.
‘Nobody is stupid enough to race the 880, I don’t care who they are…’
‘My Father paid a lot of money for this event, Joshua, so as you will understand, it doesn’t matter who has the balls to race against you, all you have to do is win.’ She made herself and her Father’s wishes very clear to me.
I remembered a time, fifteen, maybe sixteen years ago, when the very last racer to challenge the 880 was fatally killed on the final bend. Everything had been going fine, until he was somehow put in the way of a solid wall where the car exploded into flames and careered off the road to plunge more than four hundred feet.
‘Can I ask who was the second insane volunteer for this race?’
Tiffany was lost for a moment in watching me, observing me in such a way that stated something rather obvious, but then again, she was the daughter of an infamous Gangster Father.
‘Philippe Pierrepoint the third, he is the world’s best racer…’
‘Pierrepoint! He races F1 and Indie Car, is he out of his goddamned mind?’ I yelled suddenly scarring her into flinching.
Philippe Pierrepoint was a man who had earned his respect of the race, the people, the fans. The rough textured Frenchman had won more than a hundred big league championships while on tar mac, an obvious unbeatable icon to the likes of me – if I was racing against him on tar mac, but this race was asphalt and dirt.
‘Will you do it, Joshua?’ She asked, her hand reaching out for my arm, before deciding to withdraw as I turned to her.
‘I need Justin in on this, but he is nothing to do with the race, just the mechanic of my car, agreed?’ I insisted.
Tiffany nodded. ‘After this, you will be free.’
Those words burned in my mind so deep from that moment that I actually started to believe them as they echoed around reason and doubt. It was the run of the luck that caught the reward, which by racing the 880, either way I would be free – Dead or Alive.
For the rest of the morning we both enjoyed as much as the sun as we could, before returning to Redstone and calling in on her Father at The Factory Nightclub. The place was just about to open when we arrived to Mr. Jackson’s men dragging a beaten up man into the foyer and up the three flights of stairs. He was in a bad way.
The doorman had already recognized Tiffany, which in turn had him contact Mr. Jackson immediately of our arrival. This in turn gave him something to gloat perversely at, an example that would see me having no doubts whatsoever about my fate, if I didn’t race that night at The Devil’s Crown.
~End Of Sample ~
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Casanova Da Vinci is a twenty-first-century writer of Adult Erotic Literature, some of which may not be suitable for persons under the age of 21-years. It is recommended by both the Author of this work and North Gable Productions (UK), that if anyone comes into contact with this book – Electronic or otherwise, then they should hand it over to an adult. Please respect the advisory stamped by the Author and come back when you have reached the specified age for reading this work.
Casanova Da Vinci
To purchase this book and others up to half-price, then please visit www.gwnonline.com and reserve your copies of the book series: The Bordello Tales.
Please Note* The Bordello Tales Collection books are of a ‘Pick Up & Read’ format, each Story individual in their Writing and Character. However, the Collection is not without a Bigger Picture, one which is told by running in the background of each characters tale of ‘Love gained, Love lost, Tragedy’.
As to sequence of these stories, it can be celebrated that the completion run is as so:
Casanova Da Vinci’s: Evermore (Non-Erotic) – 2016
Casanova Da Vinci’s: Midnight Sun (XXX21) – 2016
Casanova Da Vinci’s: Breathe (XXX21) – 2016
Casanova Da Vinci’s: Hearts Of Desire (XXX21) – 2016
Casanova Da Vinci’s: Tears Of The Rain (XXX21) – 2016
Casanova Da Vinci’s: Living The Quarter Life (XXX21) – 2016
Casanova Da Vinci’s: The Petticoat Maid (XXX21) – 2017
Casanova Da Vinci’s: Suburban Heat (XXX21) – 2017
Casanova Da Vinci’s: Evermore Vs. Borello (XXX21) – 2017
Casanova Da Vinci’s: Means To An End (XXX21) – 2017
If you have had the opportunity of reading any of the stories so far, then why not follow The Bordello Tales on Casanova Da Vinci’s Facebook Page. With Exclusive info, readable books, samples and much more, you’ll always be ahead in knowing what’s coming up next from this Adult Erotic Author.
On A Storyteller’s Night Collection
The Brotherhood Of The Realms
On A Storyteller’s Night Vol. 1
On A Storyteller’s Night Vol. 2
City Limits: The Long Road Out (2016/2017)
Vampire Rain (2016/2017)
Angela Morningstar (2016/2017)
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