House of Delilah

By Barbara Sheridan

Can an inexperienced country boy lead an old Madam to a respectable new life?

1891

Forced by an injury to quit his job as a labourer at a sawmill, Daniel Burke journeys to a Colorado boom town to apply for the position of dressmaker.

Daniel curses his impulsive decision the moment he sets eyes on the brass plate affixed to the House of Delilah's front door. Before he can leave, he's intercepted by a whirlwind of a maid who ushers him into the specialised brothel and into the office of the madam, Addy Monroe.

Addy came west on an orphan train at the tender age of fourteen and in her twenty-four years 'in the business' she has come to see men as nothing more than a means to an end, a way to provide for the women in her employ, and the daughter she sent away to boarding school.

Dissatisfied with the business for quite some time, Addy is shaken to the core and blames herself when one of her girls is injured by a wealthy customer, but she is unable to believe Daniel's assertion that the business sense she acquired the hard way is her ticket to a new world.

What could a naive country boy possibly teach her about life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
• Release date: Nov 5, 2012
• ISBN: 9781781841204

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A Total-E-Bound Publication

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House of Delilah

ISBN # 978-1-78184-120-4

©Copyright Barbara Sheridan 2012

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright October 2012

Edited by Rebecca Douglas

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

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Published in 2012 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-sizzling and a sexometer of 1.

This story contains 81 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 8 pages.

HOUSE OF DELILAH

Barbara Sheridan

Can an inexperienced country boy lead an old Madam to a respectable new life?

1891—Forced by an injury to quit his job as a labourer at a sawmill, Daniel Burke journeys to a Colorado boom town to apply for the position of dressmaker.

Daniel curses his impulsive decision the moment he sets eyes on the brass plate affixed to the House of Delilah’s front door. Before he can leave, he’s intercepted by a whirlwind of a maid who ushers him into the specialised brothel and into the office of the madam, Addy Monroe.

Addy came west on an orphan train at the tender age of fourteen and in her twenty-four years ‘in the business’ she has come to see men as nothing more than a means to an end, a way to provide for the women in her employ and the daughter she sent away to boarding school.

Dissatisfied with the business for quite some time, Addy is shaken to the core and blames herself when one of her girls is injured by a wealthy customer, but she is unable to believe Daniel’s assertion that the business sense she acquired the hard way is her ticket to a new world.

What could a naїve country boy possibly teach her about life?

Dedication

To the handful of men in Colorado who listed Dressmaker as their occupation in the 1890 Census and made me go What if…

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Delineator: Butterick Publishing Company

Colt: Colt’s Manufacturing Company

Chapter One

Colorado, 1891

Daniel looked from the newspaper in his hand to the small brass plate affixed to the centre of the door before him, then back again. The advertisement said Wanted: Dressmaker. Creative, skilled, sense of humour, takes easily to change and surprises. Good salary. Room & board included. Serious inquiries only. Apply in person to House of Delilah, Littlemore, Colorado.

He fit the description perfectly. Still…

The door plate read HOUSE of DELILAH, Established 1880, Coitus by appointment only.

Daniel squinted. He hadn’t misread. No wonder the fellow at the train depot had grinned like a fool when he had asked for directions. Stepping out from beneath the portico, Daniel stood back to give the building a once over. It sure didn’t look like any whorehouse he’d ever seen. Of course, the one back in Roseville was just a couple of rooms over the saloon. Still, he doubted the average brothel looked like a mansion built of stone.

Looking at the newspaper advertisement again, he wondered why on earth anyone who lived here would advertise in a little three-page weekly like the Roseville Messenger. It had to be some kind of a joke. No wonder the ad had that part about the sense of humour and taking to surprises.

What a dumb ass he was, to waste what little money he had to come all the way from Wyoming on a whim. Of all the stupid, hare-brained things he’d done in his twenty-six years—and there had been more than a few—this was the stupidest.

Oh, shut up, he grumbled when his stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since last night. He jangled the coins in his pocket. He wouldn’t get much relief on that front. He hadn’t seen much of Littlemore, but what he had seen told him that this was a prosperous town. And as such, prices for lodging and food would be in line with what folks were willing to pay. With his luck he’d get a cheap room and one meal at most, two if he was lucky. Damn.

He walked away, cursing himself for having this fool notion in the first place. A man designing and sewing ladies’ dresses was not a profession to be proud of—unless you were Charles Frederick Worth, which he wasn’t. If only he didn’t enjoy it so. Why was it his misfortune to get stuck with six little sisters and a mother who worked herself to death trying to support them all? Damn.

Hey, mister! Wait!

Daniel stopped and turned. He’d left his portfolio of dress sketches and valise of samples on the front step of the brothel. He hurried back and accepted his things from the dark skinned maid. Thank you.

I don’t suppose you have an appointment, do you?

A-an a-appointment? Daniel asked, his eyes travelling to the brass plate on the open door. A bead of cold sweat tickled under this stiff shirt collar. No. I don’t.

Oh, the maid said simply. You sellin’ something then? Perfume? Hairbrushes? We go through a lot of those, ’specially Miranda. Do you have any thick handled ones? I hear they hold up better to a spanking.

Miranda? Hairbrushes? Spanking? I came about the dressmaker’s job, Daniel mumbled, not quite knowing what to say lest he be ushered into the mysterious Miranda’s presence and asked to demonstrate God knew what.

The little maid clapped her hands. Miss Addy will be so happy! Those women treat their clothes something awful around here. You would not believe what kind of stains they get. It wasn’t so bad when Kenneth was here, but then he went and ran off with that prissy Opera fella and…

His head spinning from the little maid’s incessant chatter, Daniel blindly followed her into the entrance hall and down the length of imported Turkish carpet and up the winding oak staircase like a puppy on a leash.

* * * *

Come in, Addy Monroe said, glad for the interruption. She rubbed her eyes until the floating columns of numbers were replaced by Lily, who entered in her usual dither.

Miss Addy, Miss Addy. You will not guess who just came in—past the front door and all the way up the stairs!

Addy blanched. Not Dee Dee.

P’shaw, Lily answered with a dismissive wave. You know my mamma wouldn’t let that happen. She’d sooner die than let Miss Dee sneak back here to see you without a proper warning.

Addy breathed a sigh of relief. Is it an unannounced customer? It’s not Senator Harding, is it?

Lily laughed. If it was, I’d be down in the kitchen whipping up the cream for his bath. She paused. It’s a man. A good-looking man. Here about the dressmaker job. And he came in and up the stairs! she repeated, highly impressed by that fact.

Addy was somewhat impressed herself. During the four months she’d run the ad she’d had over a hundred applicants, all women, most turning back once they had read her door plate, the rest leaving once they had realised the plate was no joke and that this was, indeed, a brothel. A specialised kind of brothel that catered to those tastes not easily catered to.

If he had the nerve to come all the way up, I suppose I should at least talk to him. Addy shifted the papers on her desk. I don’t know about another man, though, Lily. Kenneth was good, but he was bitchier than all the girls put together and then he took off without even giving notice. Those kind of men I can do without.

Lily’s expression became thoughtful. "Like I said, Miss Addy, this one seems real nice and he don’t seem at all like one of those kind of men. Of course, he was all flustered to be here, so maybe he don’t really like the thought of men and women doing what men and women do…"

Addy held up her hand to stop her maid in mid-stream. You might as well send him in. And when you go back downstairs, mix up some salve for Miranda. The judge got a bit too heavy-handed last night.

Yes, ma’am, Lily said, before scurrying out.

* * * *

Daniel swallowed hard. He shouldn’t be here.