As promised, here’s a little taste of the next Vice & Virtue book. It’s still a long way from finished, but I wanted to share a piece of what I’ve been working on. It’s out of context, so it’s a bit mysterious, but it’s a little slice of the next, as yet untitled book.
He unlocks the door and flips on a switch, which casts a low light over the windowless space. It’s dark in here, very dark. The floor is black tile, the walls are a deep charcoal cinderblocks with matte finish, everything is colored in cold, uninviting shades of gray. I look overhead and see a large, metal grid on the ceiling. As I take a closer look around, I notice a pair of heavy duty eye hooks on one of the walls, spread out a little over four feet across. Curious about what the hell these could be for, I step closer and examine them. They’re spaced a little wider than my wingspan and they look very sturdy. About two feet over my head is a slightly larger hook with a wider circle. It appears to be anchored down pretty securely and I’m guessing it’s meant to hold something heavy. There are holes in the wall from where other things once hung, but they’re too big to be nails for picture frames. It’s kind of perplexing.
I notice that the men have fallen silent behind me and I turn to look at them. Both are smirking and I’m wondering what’s so funny.
“This is a unique feature you’re not going to find in a lot of other places,” Marty says to no one in particular.
I look back to the hooks and the grid on the ceiling and soon I’m starting to piece it together. The black walls, the heavy hooks, the bleak, dungeon-esque feel of the room—this certainly wasn’t used for sleeping. It’s a playroom, a BDSM playroom. I’ve seen shit like this in James’ movies. The hooks were for shackles and I can only assume that the grid was for suspending someone with rope or chains.
“Is this a … playroom?” I timidly ask.
The guys exchange shit-eating grins and chuckle.