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Designed for you

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Blurb

She's a big city model. He's a small town cop.

With the catwalk killer identifying her as the next target, what happens when she brings her big city troubles to his sleepy little town. Is his interest purely professional or will their chemistry be... explosive?

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The Catwalk Killer
As Amanda stood clapping as her boss, Franz made his way to the end of the runway to take his bow. She looked around at each of the models smiling and clapping like her; but she could see their hearts weren’t truly in it. It was the biggest turn out they’ve had at this arena, and not because of the world class designs. Every photographer and journalist was licking their lips in anticipation, thirsty for blood; thirsty to be the first with the story. But this was no ordinary designer of the year or sleeping with the boss scandal; this was potentially a soon-to-be crime scene. Over the last 4 months, a string of models from opposing agencies has been the target of this monster and found the next morning in various states of affair with one thing in common, they were all found dead. She felt her pulse rise as she scanned the crowd yet again; searching for the slightest clue if the “Cat Napper” was out there. Such ridiculous titles they’d given this low life and the girls who did the “Walk of Death”, it was sick. With cameras flashing she ensured her brightest smile was in place, showing he held no fear over her. Because that’s what he wanted most, fame and fear. The runway emptied and she made her way to the dressing room but not before a woman shoved a microphone in her face and a sweaty man in a Channel 6 baseball cap came running over with his video camera to record an interview. “With this Catwalk Killer on the loose”, she heard the woman ask, as she rolled her eyes at yet another nickname that was given to this beast, “why do you think world renowned designer Franz Mitchelson continued to hold his show? Does he not care for your safety or is the money and fame too appealing for women like you?” the newswoman screwed up her nose as her gazed dragged in Amanda’s minimal clothing. But that comment was enough to fuel the fire, “Women like me?” Amanda exploded, “I’ll have you know women like me have degrees just like you. We have bills to pay, just like you. And I have a 9 inch heel itching to be up your ar-“ “Dianne, my dear. What the beautiful Amanda meant to say is, the fashion world has been rocked by these tragic events,” Franz cut her off with a glare, “And while my deepest sympathies are with the victims’ friends and family at this time, there has been no cause to believe our runway family has been targeted, and as they say ‘the show must go on’”. He directed his most charming smile down the line of the camera and Amanda though she might just be sick. The newswoman seemed satisfied with his answer and allowed him to kiss her hand before she and sweaty man made their exit. It was then Franz turned on her, “What in heaven’s name were you thinking, Mandy! She’s a reporter for goodness sake,” he was practically purple, he was so angry. “The witch started it,” she retorted. “She’s just lucky you came along before I took my heel off and she became her own story!” “Amanda, one of these days you will understand these reporters are what make and break your career,” he looked at her gently, calming down, “and mine. However, what she said was totally inappropriate and I hope she swallows a fly!” Amanda started to giggle as she hugged her boss for his continuous support. While sometimes he could drive her absolutely bonkers, he meant well and she appreciated his unusual humour. “Best head off to get dressed so you can leave with the others,” the humour left his eyes and his face clouded with worry, “Safety in numbers, my dear.” She agreed whole-heartedly, it wasn’t worth the risk. “Oh, and Mandy?” he called, “It appears you have another fan in the audience,” he nodded towards the flowers on her chair and head off in the direction of the bag crew to ensure all designs were safety stored in their bags and ready for travel back to his studio. With a smile and a bounce in her step at the bright and beautiful assortment of flowers at her station, she pulled the small white card attached, out of its envelope with the word You’re on it. She turned the card over to find it was blank. That was odd, maybe next show she’d get a second bouquet with a second card. Isabelle walked over fully dressed in her jeans and a white t-shirt and bent to smell the roses, like the romantic she is. “These are divine,” she exclaimed, “Who are they from?” Amanda shrugged and handed Isabelle the card. “I’m not sure, the card doesn’t exactly leave any clues.” “What about the gift?” Isabelle looked around Amanda’s station puzzled, “I’m certain it was here before.” “Oh, it was,” Candy, as she preferred to be called, returned, “Until I took it. It’s not like you was gonna wear it. I mean girl, you get all these gifts you throw away, so I figure, why not.” She shrugged and spritzed herself with the opened perfume. “Hand it over, Candy,” Isabelle walked over and held out her hand, “That was not yours to take.” “Woow girl, you better be getting out of my station,” Candy stood but Isabelle was not backing down. “Ladies, ladies, chill.” James the resident DJ and lights coordinator came running over to heed off any possibility of a fight. While these girls seemed all angelic on that runway, it was always a competition to be top dog and the nails were already on standby. James glanced over at Amanda as she threw her shirt over head and watched as it shimmied down her tanned and toned body and his mouth went dry. Moistening his lips, he held out his hand and Candy roughly smacked it down into his opened palm. “I didn’t like it, anyway,” she pursed her lips and sashayed out of the room. James and Isabelle made their way back over to where Amanda was slinging her bag over her shoulder and when she smiled at him, he was sure his heart stopped. Her mountain of silky brown hair which usually tumbled down her back during shows was now tied up in a high ponytail revealing the soft nape of her neck. She was one gorgeous specimen from head to toe and he knew he’d dream about her again tonight. As he held out the perfume to Amanda, her fingers accidently brushed against his and he saw but not heard as her lips moved to the words ‘Thank you’. He nodded once to try and break the spell she always seemed to cast over him. One day he’d man up and ask her out. One day. “Not that I couldn’t have handled her,” Isabelle could be heard grumbling. Amanda sprayed 2 puffs of the perfume in front of her and walked through the mist, who cared what it smelt like, after the heat of the runway anything would smell better than she did. “Ohh that’s lovely,” commented Isabelle, “What’s it called?” Amanda opened her eyes once the fragrance settled on her skin and saw James watching her in that intimate way he did. She loved him like a friend but didn’t know how to break it to him that’s all he’d be. She glanced toward the bottle and a scream escaped her as she registered the name and dropped the bottle. Amanda stumbled backwards and bumped her back against her chair before a pair of guiding hands led her to her seat. She looked around at the frantic faces of the women in the dressing room, then up into the concerned eyes of James as he remained his steady hold of her hand. She tugged it away and started rubbing the places the perfume had settled, trying to remove it from her skin like the contamination it was. “What’s wrong? What is it?” Isabelle asked rushing to her side. A small group had gathered around her station and as she looked around, she spotted the box it came in on the floor and pointed. James walked over to Candy’s station, collected the box and returned to Amanda’s side for Isabelle to see. The questioning look turned from confusion to mortification as her eyes connected with the small card with the word ‘You’re’ remained face up on Amanda’s counter, then the box in James hand with the name ‘Next’ and she too released a scream as the puzzle fell together. By this time Franz has heard the two screams and rushed his way over to the group clustered around Amanda thinking the worst. As he arrived to see Amanda sitting in her chair, eyes blank; Isabelle breathing in and out of a brown paper bag and a morbid looking James, he looked around as though waiting for an answer to appear. James held up the card and the perfume box side by side for the him to see but there was no words present as the all stood silently absorbing this news.

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