Fallen Angel

by Bev Dulson

  When you’re flying high, there’s only one way down...

  Fallen Angel

  The sequel to Famous & Shameless

  By

  Bev　Dulson

  First published in 2020 by FeedARead.com Publishing

  Arts Council funded

  Copyright ©Bev Dulson

  First Edition

  Bev Dulson has asserted their moral right

  under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988,

  to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may

  be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system,

  or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior

  written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise

  circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which

  it is published and without a similar condition being imposed

  on the subsequent purchaser.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters

  and incidents portrayed within it, while some are based

  on real historical figures and events, are of the author’s

  imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

  events or localities is purely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  Cover design by Louise Taylor

  This book is dedicated to...

  ‘The crazy peeps’ my fabulous friends who really do ‘Run Through Walls’...

  Kate and Steve, Jaqcuie and Nick, Sarah and Rick, Charlotte and Gav, Scott and Katy, Silvio and Jayne

  Who I am missing dearly and can’t wait to have a glass of wine or two in our gardens!

  Also by Bev Dulson

  BETRAYAL

  TWISTED SISTER (Sequel to Betrayal)

  LOVE OVERBOARD

  FAMOUS & SHAMELESS

  READ ALL ABOUT IT

  Novella

  THIS CHRISTMAS (Featuring Love Overboard characters)

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  This book has certainly been a labour of love, it took me longer to write than anticipated, but sometimes real life issues get in the way of made up plots! But I made it, I can’t quite believe its book number seven, I am hugely grateful to everyone who has supported my writing adventure, I certainly never envisaged seven books when I wrote the prologue to Betrayal all those years ago. As usual, there are people to thank.

  Firstly my writing partner in crime Cat Batty, although we write in different genres we absolutely get the writing process and understand each other completely when our characters are misbehaving or something doesn’t feel right with the plot.

  Thank you to all my proof readers, Charlotte Scott, Tracy Evans and of course Cat! Thanks to Louise Taylor for my book cover, I absolutely love it – you have really captured Magenta and now she’s on my book cover. You are so talented.

  When I’m writing I always have a music playlist on, I’d like to give a shout out to a fantastic local musician, Marc Kenny, his song ‘Fingertips’ hugely inspired Johnny’s love story in this book. (Check it out on you tube). Thanks Marc, looking forward to watching you play again back in the real world.

  Massive thanks to my little family, Mark, my Mr D, – you always believe in me, even when I don’t believe in myself. You are and will always be my hero. To my lovely girls, Rebekah and Faye, now growing into young ladies with your own dreams and passions, if there is one thing my writing journey has taught you, I hope it’s to turn those dreams into reality. I have every faith in you both and love you more than cake.

  I can’t write my acknowledgements without mentioning my biggest fan, my Nan. Whenever I finish a writing project, she always says ‘Clever girl’, like I’m still the little girl she used to say that to whenever I got a good school report.

  Big thanks to my friends – the crazy peeps who keep me insane and full of fizz! I am missing our shenanigans so much but we are still managing to have fun virtually at the moment.

  There wasn’t supposed to be a sequel to Famous and Shameless but then I wrote the final line of Hunter’s epilogue, it was literally a throwaway line, but it was the seed for which this book developed. Around the time I started to write this book there seemed to be an influx of bad press for well loved celebs and it struck me how the British press love nothing more than to knock people off their celebrity podium and kick them when they are down as do the keyboard trolls, so that’s really where the inspiration comes from in this book for Magenta’s story, but in her own kick arse way, she deals with it. #Bekind. I love to try and make the settings I place my story in really come alive and Fallen Angel is no different, I had recently come back from New York when I started writing this book and I wanted to use Trina’s experience of seeing New York through the eyes of a first time visitor to reflect my own experiences. The bit where she as the Top of the Rock with Johnny is from my own travels, Campbell’s Apartment is another one. I sat there drinking the most amazing cocktails and thinking to myself ‘I feel like a character in one of my books’ and I knew I had to put it in one of my books! I hope I’ve done NYC justice.

  Lastly, these are the most strangest of times we are living in, so I hope dear reader that this book gives you a bit of escapism which is what we all need right now.

  Happy reading and stay safe. Bev xx

  Fallen Angel

  ‘Do not mistake my silence for shyness; I’m simply plotting my revenge...’

  PROLOGUE

  The apartment was unassuming enough, same as all the others on the block, two bedrooms, an open plan living area including the kitchen and a small balcony, not that this one had a great view, it over looked the car lot. The décor was fairly bland and uninspiring, but the home owner didn’t mind, they spent most of their time in the spare room, or their command centre as they preferred to call it. The door to that particular room was always locked. On the rare occasion there was a visitor to the apartment, they were never shown into the extra bedroom, no unexpected guests staying over.

  The home owner had just made a cup of coffee and was heading towards the command centre, carefully unlocking the door and pushing it open. They headed straight to the desk by the window and sat down. They set the coffee cup down and flicked the laptop on, as they waited for it to come to life, they took a moment to peruse the corkboard stuck on the wall. They looked at it as if some new information may have appeared over night, but no, nothing had changed since yesterday. There was a picture from a glossy magazine of the English rock star, Magenta Valentina and her boyfriend, Hunter Cole and a few newspaper articles regarding the same subjects, cut out and pinned to the board. On the desk was a manila coloured folder, the military symbol of the US on the front, top secret stamped over the insignia. Next to the folder was a plastic bag for a book store. They carefully took out the contents; it was the latest spy novel by Jason Lomax. They ran their fingers slowly over the embossed title and the author name, a smile forming on their face.

  ‘I know who you are Hunter Cole and I’m coming for you.’

  Setting the book down, they lifted up the coffee cup, taking a mouthful. It was shaping up to be a good day; it would soon be time to put the plan into action.

  CHAPTER ONE

  LIVERPOOL

  Magenta Valentina tipped her head up towards the sky, loving the feel of the warm sun on her face. She was sat in the open area of the Matou restaurant in Liverpool. She had the Liver buildings to her right and the River Mersey to her left. As the sunlight caught the water and reflected back up towards her she could only revel in this beautiful summer’s day. She loved days like this in Liverpool, days that made you feel like you could be anywhere in the
world, not just the North West of England. She toyed with the stem of her cocktail glass, enjoying the few moments of peace as she waited for her PA and best friend, Trina, followed by her boyfriend, Hunter to arrive. Due to her floppy summer hat and oversized Dior sunglasses, she was being left alone by the other diners who had yet to realise they were in the presence of Magenta Valentina, international rock star. Not that she’d draw attention to herself, she wasn’t a diva, well not unless the situation called for it and that was generally when she needed to put other people in their place, her ex-husband, Max, for example.

  She watched as passengers from a cruise ship moored alongside the famous waterfront wandered off their ship, marvelling at the view in front of them and taking pictures of the Liver buildings. It reminded her of a concert she’d given a few years back, the area in front of the building was large enough for an outdoor festival, so she, along with a few other bands had put on a gig. They performed well into the summer night, tunes bouncing off the buildings and lyrics drifting across the river. She remembered a yacht mooring up at some point in the day, the crowd spontaneously waving to the passengers on board as they sang along to one of Magenta’s songs. What a welcome those people got to the city. To her city. After her marriage break up, which was as messy as you could get given the fallout from it and the very public revelations of what an actual shit, Max Maxwell was, she spent most of her time here in Liverpool in a very sumptuous penthouse, she did still have her brownstone in New York, a left over from her marriage to Max, but she hadn’t stepped foot in it since the divorce, despite the fact it solely belonged to her now. She was happy in Liverpool, living a slightly quieter life. She’d needed to regroup after what had happened in the manor house eighteen months ago, she was still having very real nightmares about dead bodies. She didn’t want to think about that now though, not on this very beautiful summer’s day.

  She took a sip of the mojito, letting the liquid cool her down. Setting her glass back on the table top, her attention was piqued by a man at the bar who happened to be looking in her direction. He had one arm leaning against the bar, the rest of his body angled towards her. He picked up his glass with his other hand and began to walk slowly towards her, giving her time to give him the once over. He was dressed in smart casual attire, his long legs clad in denim, then a white polo shirt with a navy fitted jacket over it, buttoned at the stomach. The jacket looked slightly tight as the material stretched over his defined shoulders. It made the wearer of the jacket look almost uncomfortable in it, like he couldn’t wait to rip it off, or have someone do that for him. She couldn’t see his eyes, like hers, they were hidden behind sunglasses – all the better to people watch! He walked with a confident swagger and the light breeze in the air blew his chestnut coloured curls away from his face. She had a thing about curls, she liked to twirl them around her fingers. She picked her glass up as he neared her.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt you ma’am, but I notice your glass is almost empty, would it be OK for me to buy you another?’ He spoke was a deep American accent. She tilted her head to one side, lifting her sunglasses up so she could see him properly.

  ‘That’s very presumptuous of you. I’m actually waiting for my boyfriend,’ she checked her watch. ‘Although he is running late.’

  ‘More fool him,’ he gave her a lazy smile.

  This guy really was one of the hottest men she’d ever seen. She ran a finger around the rim of her glass. ‘Hmmm, well, I suppose one drink wouldn’t hurt.’

  He placed his palms onto the table and leaned across the table to whisper into her ear. ‘What would your boyfriend say if he knew it wasn’t just a drink I wanted to give you?’

  She swallowed hard, the feel of his breath on her cheek sent her temperature rising. Before she could answer a voice burst the bubble.

  ‘Oh my God, you two, I’m so sorry I’m late, traffic in town is a mare.’

  Trina ran over to the table, or ran as well as was humanly possible in her Louboutins.

  ‘No worries, you haven’t missed anything,’ Magenta spoke to her friend, but her eyes were still on her man.

  ‘We’ll resume this later, Mags,’ Hunter grinned at her.

  Yep, she had the hottest man on the planet alright and he never failed to set her heart racing.

  ‘Hey, Treen,’ he reached across and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Looking good, Mr Cole. How did the meeting go with your publisher?’

  ‘Looking good, but feeling hot, I need to get this jacket off,’ he shrugged himself out of it, revealing his tanned, muscular arms. Magenta allowed herself a long leisurely look at his arms. It could hardly be classed as perving when it was your own bloke, could it? Hunter carried on. ‘The meeting went well, sales figures are better than they anticipated, they want the first draft of the next book by Christmas and then they want me to start working on the next one straight after.’

  Magenta grinned. ‘That’s fabulous, babe.’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Ah, I don’t know about that, I’m just doing what I love. Hey, let me get you girls a drink.’

  He headed off back towards the bar, this time Magenta gave his backside a good look. She heard Trina giggle.

  ‘Bloody ‘ell Mags, you have so got it bad for Ja, I mean Hunter.’

  ‘Hell, yeah,’ she smiled back. She ignored Trina’s faux pas of almost calling Hunter by his real name. She and Trina went way back with Hunter, way back when he was Jason, Magenta’s first love, but that was a life time ago. Jason was long gone and in his place was action man, Hunter. Trina didn’t know the whole story, but she did know she could never call him Jason in public.

  After the insane events that had brought Hunter back in to her life, resulting in the divorce to her dastardly husband, Max who had been shagging her previous PA amongst other things, they had spent the last eighteen months quietly consciously coupling. Well as quietly as the media would let them. It had helped that she’d let her career take a back seat, she’d concentrated on song writing and he’d been penning his first novel and in between that, they’d spent as much time naked together as possible, which was a lot. Although they were trying to keep Hunter’s real identity under wraps they were confident that living in plain sight and with his name change no one would make the connection to his old life. Life was pretty damn good.

  Dragging her eyes away from Hunter’s perfectly formed arse, she turned her attention back to Trina.

  ‘So, what’s new? Anything I need to be aware of or book into the diary?’

  Trina shook her head, her blonde ponytail swishing from side to side. ‘It’s all quiet on the tabloid and Twitter front, there’s a photo trending of you and Hunter having dinner last night, most tweets are about how hot you two look together #couplegoals,’ Trina grinned at her as she looked up from her iPad. ‘This Morning want you for an interview and there’s an awards do next week.’

  ‘No can do, I’ll be in New York next week, promised Johnny we’d be at his album launch.’

  ‘Can you please tell Johnny to CC me in on all invites, how can I manage your diary properly when he thinks it’s OK to just text you?’ She rolled her eyes.

  Mags let out a laugh.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You, if I’d have known what a good PA you’d be, I’d have employed you years ago.’

  ‘Yeah, not only am I super organised, you don’t need to worry about me shagging your bloke.’

  ‘That is a bonus, you and Dean have been solid together since fifth form.’

  Trina’s brow crumpled. ‘Actually…’

  Mags leaned closer to her friend, placing her hand on hers. ‘Treen, is everything OK?’

  ‘Hey! It’s Magenta Valentina! Can we have a selfie?’ Two young men in suits approached the table, putting an end to their conversation. Mags was always aware of how she came across in public and would try and accommodate fans if she could. She leaned back in her chair and smiled. ‘Sure, lads. No problem.’

  The excited men
bent down either side of her and one of them stretched his phone out to take the picture. Over the edge of the phone, she could see Hunter on his way back with the drinks. One of the lads leaned in, kissing her on the cheek.

  ‘Hey guys, back off, this lady’s taken,’ he grinned.

  ‘Lucky fella, can’t blame a guy for trying.’

  They were already on their feet and moving away from the table by the time Hunter sat back down. Again, the opportunity to discuss Trina’s worried look was gone.

  Mags had further forgotten her friends anxious face when she was back at the penthouse later that afternoon, or to be precise, lying in her overly large round bed with her overly hunky man. Hunter had made good on his earlier promise to finish things off later. She was now in post coital bliss, her skin sleek with moisture, both from the hot action with her man and from the ridiculously hot temperature that the English just didn’t deal with. She shifted away from him and sat up.

  ‘It’s so bloody hot, I need some air.’ She rolled off the bed and wandered across the bedroom towards the open door leading onto the balcony. The balcony that gave her a great view, but was secluded so that nobody could see her, which was particularly useful when she wanted to sit on the balcony stark bollock naked. She was aware of Hunter’s eyes on her as she moved.

  ‘Where are you going babe?’

  ‘The balcony, it’s probably about one degree cooler out there and there’s some fizz chillin’ in the bar.’

  He was off the bed in seconds, right behind her, his hand on her left arse cheek as she walked.

  ‘Sounds like that’s where I need to be too.’

  She stopped at the bar on the balcony, one of his hands was still on the bare skin of her backside, the other hand pushed her long, sex ruffled red hair from one of her shoulders so he could bend down and kiss her neck. She turned round into him so she was encased by his strong muscular arms. His lips moved up to her face, his blue eyes locked onto her eyes, the desire burning through her stronger than the sun on her skin. Was there anything sexier than sex alfresco? She lifted her hands up to his face, pulling him to her so she could kiss him with all the passion currently bubbling up inside of her. She felt his hands in her hair, her head involuntary tilting backwards. His lips left hers and trailed across her cheek until he reached her ear. ‘I love you, la.’