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Fifty Sheds Damper: A parody
Fifty Sheds Damper: A parody
Fifty Sheds Damper: A parody
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Fifty Sheds Damper: A parody

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'Each firm stroke was bringing me closer and closer to that moment of relief and satisfaction. Soon my shed would be completely weatherproof.'

Multi-millionaire Colin Grey thought he'd escaped a dark, forbidden world of pleasure and pain, until one day he suddenly awakes to find himself bound and gagged. But by whom - kidnappers, the secret service, or his ex-wife?

In Fifty Sheds Damper the sequel to the bestselling erotic parody, Fifty Sheds of Grey, Colin wrestles with his inner demons, several women and fungal root rot. Fifty Sheds . . . Hotter. Steamier. Damper!

WARNING: Shed addiction can seriously affect your health. Please read responsibly.

*Now with a wipe-clean cover!

Disclaimer: Fifty Sheds of Grey is not prepared, authorized, licensed, approved, or endorsed by any person or entity involved in the making of Fifty Shades of Grey.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherPan Macmillan
Release dateOct 10, 2013
ISBN9780752265520
Fifty Sheds Damper: A parody
Author

C.T. Grey

Colin Trevor 'C.T.' Grey is a keen gardener from the Cotwolds. He lives with his wife, Christina.

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    Book preview

    Fifty Sheds Damper - C.T. Grey

    To E.L. James and A.F. Titchmarsh

    – for the inspiration and the vegetation.

    My chest pounds hard as my wrists strain against the cold, tight, steel handcuffs behind my back. I try to yell for help but my mouth is covered. My life flashes before my eyes – or it would do if I hadn’t been blindfolded.

    Questions whir round my head like a 1600-watt Qualcast rotary mower. Where am I? Who am I? Who brought me here? Robbed of my eyesight, my other senses shift into overdrive. I can feel thick, coarse rope binding my chest, waist and ankles to a wooden chair. And a tap on my forehead. Then another. Liquid splashing down onto my face. Am I being waterboarded?

    Something sticky and sweet coats my tongue. Have I been drugged? That would explain my memory loss.

    My twitching nostrils detect a musty, damp aroma. With just a hint of . . . what is that? It’s strangely familiar but I can’t place it.

    Any small noise might help me discover my location but I hear nothing. I’m alone – for now. Surely not for long though. I have to get out of here before my kidnapper returns, but how?

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