|About the Book|
But for his smoking habit, Marc is in the prime of his life -- so when he hears about a revolutionary new therapy that might help him quit, he signs up straight away. Unfortunately for him, Dr Rosenthal has a different set of plans... and as soon asMoreBut for his smoking habit, Marc is in the prime of his life -- so when he hears about a revolutionary new therapy that might help him quit, he signs up straight away. Unfortunately for him, Dr Rosenthal has a different set of plans... and as soon as she lights up her cigarette, Marc finds himself helpless to resist her charms.EXTRACT:How could I put what I was feeling into words? I was overcome, completely. Since I’d woken up, my brain seemed to be playing tricks on me. Some things – her lips, her curves, the wisps of smoke curling from the glowing tip of her cigarette – seemed to have an incredible clarity to them, as though they were being shot in high-definition, but everything else seemed to be stuck behind a fog, as though it didn’t really matter at all.I shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’She smiled, and took another long, deep drag. ‘Believe it or not, that’s a good sign. It shows that it worked.’‘That what worked, exactly?’That was when she breathed out.The smoke curled around me, its scent – lighter and yet somehow richer than I ever remembered experiencing when I smoked myself – filling my nose, making my mind slip away from my body. I breathed deeply, desperate to fill my lungs with that wonderful odour.The more I breathed in, the thicker the smoke seemed to get. Every inhalation made my body feel less in control, like I was floating away despite myself.‘Good boy,’ she said at last, her voice cutting through the fog.‘Breathe it in. Fill yourself with my smoke.’And so I did.
The White Slave Trade: Transactions of the International Congress on the White Slave Trade, Held in London on the 21st, 22nd and 23rd of June, 1899, at the Invitatiion of the National Vigilance Associ