BWWM Romance For Quarantine | Quarantined With The Celebrity Who Bought Me (Book #1)
While under quarantine, many of us are struggling to cope and could use an escapist fantasy right now. Inspired by some cray-cray fanfiction tropes and a desire to write a truly different novella for you, I came up with Shareen Richard’s story… Quarantined With The Celebrity Who Bought Me.
Here are some of the reviews for this title:
Click here to read more reviews.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
“The book was promised to have hot scenes and strong & naughty language and it did not disappoint. I very much enjoyed what I read and it was a quick read also.” — Kai White
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Loved this one. I've read a lot of her books and this one is just as good. If you're looking for a quick, hot, and steamy read I recommend this book. If you have the time check out the rest of what this writer has to offer. You won't be disappointed 🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥 — Kenji Bra
Check out the book cover and scroll to read the description…
Image Description: Book cover for interracial BWWM romance, Quarantined With The Celebrity Who Bought Me. On the left-hand side is an attractive white man with six-pack abs and on the right-hand side is a beautiful, plus-sized BBW black woman, wearing a white shirt, with shoulder length black hair.
Book Description
I was eighteen years old when my parents sold me to the star of the biggest boyband in the UK.
Quarantined with the maniacal superstar with a body like a God and a craving for brown sugar should have been a dream come true.
But Master Henry is not like any guy I’ve ever met.
He’s obsessed with me and he wants me to return the favor and worship every inch of his chiseled body.
I can’t allow myself to fall for him like every other girl…
He may have bought my body, but he can’t buy my love.
Romance Novel Excerpt | Quarantined With The Celebrity Who Bought Me
Chapter 1 | My Parents Sold Me
“Where are you taking me?” I snapped.
My parents never brought me anywhere. Forcing me to get all dressed up and get in the car in the middle of a pandemic was just the icing on their typically super annoying cake.
“Stop asking questions and be quiet.”
We were driving towards one of the wealthier neighborhoods outside of the city. It was a place that I'd only ever been with my friends when we were trying to spot celebrities. It wasn’t a place my boring parents went. I didn't even know they knew about it.
“Mom, can you talk to dad? Tell him to be reasonable. I want to FaceTime with my friends, not go on some stupid road trip. We shouldn’t leave the house unless it's necessary.”
Instead of a normal response, my mom let out a smothered sob.
What the hell is wrong with her? Why is she crying?
“Roxanne, be quiet.”
“Don't yell at her, dad!”
“You shut up too, Shareen.”
“Don't talk to me like that! You can't talk to me like that.”
Dad growled, “Be quiet.”
"We should tell her, Earl," my mother blubbered.
I rolled my eyes and stuck my headphones in. I wanted to listen to the new Lil Nas X song. My parents were always talking about and arguing about dumb stuff. They were usually talking about their stupid mortgage, job markets, the neighbors getting a new hot tub, and that the fact that they wanted me to go to college. Well, guess what? I didn't need to go to college because I’m becoming a singer. I will be famous one day.
Last week, I sent in my mix tape to a famous producer who promised me he could get me time in a studio. I could kiss our Podunk town goodbye and say hello to my new career. My parents didn't get the vision. They thought I was just lazy. And they were especially mad that I took my pandemic stimulus check and spent it on a fresh ass dress for my very first performance.
I didn't have a performance lined up yet, but I was thinking like a star. Once the stupid pandemic quarantine was over, then I'd be well on my way. My mother was all angry that I wasn't taking my job seriously. Why did I need to take my job seriously? Singers need not sling coffee at the gas station in their teens. I had to focus on singing.
We pulled off the highway towards the richest neighborhood in America.
“Are we going to rob somebody?” I yelled over my music.
I didn't bother taking my headphones out until my mother turned around. I could see her lips moving, I pulled my headphones out and yelled, “WHAT?!”
"Sweetie, your father and I worked our entire lives for that house and no matter what's going on out there, we can't lose it. He promises that he'll treat you well. All you have to do is listen to him, okay?"
"Have you been drinking?"
I stuck my headphones back in and started jamming loudly to “Get Me Bodied” by Beyoncé. I opened up my stan Twitter account and fired off a tweet: Bey is THAT BITCH!! All you DUSTIES wish you could! #GetMeBodied
We pull down the driveway. The driveway seriously went on forever. At least half a mile. Dad parked the car, and he did something super weird. He locked the doors. My parents can be so lame. He was probably trying to make some point about how I “stay on that phone and never pay attention to my surroundings”. It’s called having a Beyoncé fan Twitter account with 300k followers. My dad needed to get like me!
I took my headphones out.
"So are any of you going to tell me what's going on?"
My father said to my mother, "he says his people will be out in 10 minutes. All we have to do is wait."
“What are you two talking about? Who is this mysterious he?”
“Shareen, this changes nothing about how I feel about you,” my mother said, “I still love you. I still care about you. But he promises that he will take fantastic care of you and then… We don't have to worry about anything ever again. Your sister can go to private school. Your brother can get that new Toyota Camry he wanted. Just know that whatever happens, you helped your family. That's all that matters.”
"Stop apologizing, Roxanne."
"You two are scaring me. Is this some kind of practical joke? You two are talking like you're about to sell me."
My mother let out another agonizing sob that my father leaned over and smacked her across the face.
"Snap out of it, Roxanne! You agreed to this. You signed the contract. She doesn't belong to us anymore, so it's time you let go."
"Dad, you're scaring me. Did you just slap mom? You know I could go to the cops about this."
"She's 18, Roxanne. There's nothing wrong with what we're doing. Nothing at all."
"You two are scaring me. If this is a practical joke, please stop," I snapped.
I always knew my parents were total weirdos, but right now they were acting even more bizarre than I could have ever expected. Something is wrong with those wackos and whatever they were planning to do to me, it would not be good. But I still kind of thought they were joking. Until two guys in black suits came out of the mega-mansion dad parked us in front of.
"What is going on right now?"
"Don't worry, honey. It'll be scary at first, but he promises to take wonderful care of you."
I fidgeted with the door handle and then yanked on it with all my strength.
"You two let me out of here. Whatever is going on, I will not let it happen. I will not let you just give me away to someone."
"We did not give you away, Shareen," my father said, "we sold you. And this man, we think you'll enjoy living with him. So don't fight. He paid us very well for you and there's no way out of this now."
"Yes, there is! I'll go to the police. I'll tell somebody. I will use my phone, and —
My father's hand connected with my face, and he snatched my phone. I was in the middle of sending off a fire ass tweet on my primary account about my parents possibly starting a prank YouTube channel with me as a victim. Now, Twitter would never see my incredible joke. I would never get to finish listening to Beyoncé’s pandemic album. I screamed and lunged for my phone and my father pushed me back.
"You're a maniac!"
The two men in suits were on opposite sides of the car. My father unlocked the doors. I tried to run. The men in suits were much bigger than me and they grabbed me. I screamed and kicked. The mansion was too big and too isolated for anyone to hear me. They could get away with anything. They could kill me, and nobody would ever know. I screamed louder.
"I hate you! I hate you!"
My mother's hand pressed up against the car window as she sobbed. She mouthed, "I'm sorry, Shareen."
"I don't care! I hate you both!"
My disconnected headphones fell out of my ears and I let out another shriek. The man pressed my arms to my sides and dragged me inside of the giant mansion.
“Let me go!”
I broke free, and I ran down a long hallway. I did not understand where I was going. I knew that all I had to do was run. Gigantic houses had multiple exits, right? I’d come upon one soon. I wasn't exactly the best runner. At 210 pounds, I was in a bit of shape, but not enough to out run to bodyguards who trained for this. I found the door and jiggled the handle. I screamed when one guard wrapped his arm around me and the other one came to join him and yanked me away. They wrested my arms behind my back, and as I yelled, they handcuffed me. I screamed and kicked, and more guards appeared out of nowhere. Now there were four grown men and one of them had a needle. A fucking needle!
“GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME! I’M CALLING THE COPS! I’M GOING TO PISS ON YOU BASTARDS!”
I felt a sharp pinch in my arm before I could even tell what was happening and then my eyes were heavy and my body was heavy and I could only let out one last anguish sob before I felt unconscious.
I woke up to a rumbling beneath me. I screamed and yanked my arms. They strapped me to a seat on a private jet with leather straps. I screamed and kicked out my legs, but they strapped my legs down too I was captive. No cell phone. No idea where I was. Only two men in suits with sunglasses who hadn't said a word to me.
"Hey! Hey you."
"Ma'am, he does not allow us to speak to you," he said.
"What sort of accent is that?"
He didn't answer. I guess he gave me my answer. Some boss forbade him from speaking to me. Asshole. But he didn't tell me who was making these orders. Who brought me here? Who would have bought me from my parents? I was nobody. I was just Shareen Richards, a normal African-American teenager who enjoyed watching anime and who had a dream of becoming a singer. How would someone rich enough to own this private jet know who I was?
"How much longer will I be on the stupid plane?"
I was getting hungry. If they had promised my parents not to harm me, giving me food would have been a pleasant start.
"Hey! I'm talking to you loser."
I sensed the man tense up. They found me annoying. Good. I once read a viral story about a kid who was so irritating that his kidnappers let him go. 30,000 feet in the air might not be the best place for me to try that strategy, but it was worth it. Maybe wherever we landed, they would let me go.
"Hey ugly! What gives you the right to kidnap innocent girls and bring them on your stupid plane? Tell me we are working for either or I promise you, I will sing for the rest of this flight."
The men exchanged glances.
"Are you hungry?"
"Yes, I'm hungry."
"We have some food for you."
He walked behind me, I couldn't see where he went, and he came back with some stupid sandwich.
"How my supposed to eat as stupid sandwich when you strapped my arms to this chair?"
They exchanged glances again. Was whoever had them kidnap me an absolute idiot?
"I suppose I can feed you."
So the asshole fed me. It was humiliating. I was quiet for the rest of the flight and I never figured out how long I had been in the air. When we landed, it was night. My head was all turned around. One man stuck me with another needle and I was out again. This time, when I woke up, they strapped me to a bed. I screamed and kicked. I knew how this part would go. It would be like in the movies when some girl gets kidnapped to become some creepy gangster’s sex slave. Well, I had no intention of going down easily.
***
End of Sample. Keep reading the story here, FREE in Kindle Unlimited on Amazon.
Text ‘bwwm’ to 31996 to sign up for updates about Book 2 | Quarantined With The Celebrity Who Bought Me 2.