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The Politics of Pleasure

by Mark Russell

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Jay Goldman is a civilian chemist working at an army chemical center in Maryland, USA. Goldman discovers his late father was secretly assassinated by General Turner, a maverick Director of the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA).

Turner learns that Goldman has physical evidence which implicates the general's hand in the murder. With his political career on the rise, General Turner dispatches a team of mercenaries to kill Goldman. The chemist escapes, only to become romantically involved with Michelle Eastman, an attractive ex-model hoping to re-launch her career through an upcoming fashion shoot and parade in Milan, Italy. Goldman is desperate to go abroad with her. With his funds frozen by the DIA, Goldman plans to sell a military drug formula to an LA-based underground chemist.

Jay and Michelle's new-found relationship is sorely tested in Washington DC, and finally in Los Angeles, where General Turner unleashes an explosive confrontation.

'The Politics of Pleasure' is an imaginative thriller that explores new boundaries of the genre.

Praise for
The Politics of Pleasure

A well-paced original thriller from an original voice.
Highly recommended.

This is one of those books you just can't put down. It is gripping and well-paced - you are drawn into the story right from the beginning and each chapter leaves you wanting to know what is going to happen next. The writing is good, the plot is well-constructed and the characters are compelling. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who enjoys an exciting read and look forward to reading the next book by this author.

Excerpt

PROLOGUE

San Francisco, USA.
October 1969.

The alarming sounds of forced entry filled her ears. She sat bolt upright and looked about the shadowy room. Bleak plaster walls. Stacked and tumbled cartons. Disused single beds.

Where was she?

The only door to the room shuddered from a violent blow. She flinched and hugged her knees to her chest. She could hear muffled voices on the other side of the weakening door. A straight-back chair was braced under the doorknob. Had she put it there? She didn't know. She rocked back and forth on an unmade bed, her breaths sharp and shallow. A medicine cabinet had been pushed against the door. Was she responsible for the makeshift barricade? Again she didn't know ...

The strange room pressed in on her and uncertain memories plagued her mind: bright hallways peopled by uncaring faces; her running half-clothed; hair spilling about her bare shoulders as she searched for somewhere to hide.

The door protested from further blows. She dug her feet into the mattress and pushed herself along the bed. Her eyes welled with tears as the solitary door shuddered in its frame, assaulted by the brute force of those outside. She heard more voices. Determined. Impatient. By the commotion it sounded like a small army was about to burst in.

In no time the wood jamb splintered and the door blew open. The braced chair shot aside and the medicine cabinet skidded across the floor. She gasped as men swarmed into the room, pulling a top sheet up to her chin. Flashlights bathed her in agonizing light. She scrabbled back until hitting the plaster wall at the head of the bed, its chill seeping into her spine. How could she escape this wide-awake nightmare?

'Leave me alone!' She snarled like a cornered animal savaged by a steel-jaw trap. Then she screamed. The piercing vocalization of terror caused several men to step back. The girl slid down on the bed with rapid birdlike breaths, the whites of her eyes showing from between drooped lids. The top sheet slipped from her grasp and exposed her breasts.

The Masquerade Crew