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Fifty Shades Darker: Book Two of the Fifty Shades Trilogy (Fifty Shades Of Grey Series, 2, Band 2) - Softcover

Buch 2 von 3: Fifty Shades

James, E L

 
9780345803498: Fifty Shades Darker: Book Two of the Fifty Shades Trilogy (Fifty Shades Of Grey Series, 2, Band 2)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0345803493 ISBN 13: 9780345803498
Verlag: Bloom Books, 2012

Inhaltsangabe

"I rest my head against him, and he kisses my hair repeatedly. This is home. He smells of linen, fabric softener, bodywash, and my favorite smell―Christian. For a moment, I allow myself the illusion that all will be well, and it soothes my ravaged soul."
Daunted by the singular tastes and dark secrets of the beautiful, tormented young entrepreneur Christian Grey, Anastasia Steele has broken off their relationship to start a new career with a Seattle publishing house.
But desire for Christian still dominates her every waking thought, and when he proposes a new arrangement, Anastasia cannot resist. They rekindle their searing sensual affair, and Anastasia learns more about the harrowing past of her damaged, driven and demanding Fifty Shades.
While Christian wrestles with his inner demons, Anastasia must confront the anger and envy of the women who came before her, and make the most important decision of her life.
Discover the world of Fifty Shades of Grey:An Instant #1 New York Times BestsellerMore than 165 Million Copies Sold WorldwideOne of 100 Great Reads in the Great American Read133 Weeks on the New York Times Bestseller ListThis book is intended for mature audiences.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

E L James is an incurable romantic and a self-confessed fangirl. After twenty-five years of working in television, she decided to pursue a childhood dream and write stories that readers could take to their hearts. The result was the controversial and sensuous romance Fifty Shades of Grey and its two sequels, Fifty Shades Darker and Fifty Shades Freed. In 2015, she published the #1 bestseller Grey, the story of Fifty Shades of Grey from the perspective of Christian Grey, and in 2017, the chart-topping Darker, the second part of the Fifty Shades story from Christian's point of view. She followed with the #1 New York Times bestseller, The Mister in 2019. Her books have been published in fifty languages and have sold more than 165 million copies worldwide.
E L James has been recognized as one of Time magazine's "Most Influential People in the World" and Publishers Weekly's "Person of the Year." Fifty Shades of Grey stayed on the New York Times bestseller list for 133 consecutive weeks. Fifty Shades Freed won the Goodreads Choice Award (2012), and Fifty Shades of Grey was selected as one of the 100 Great Reads, as voted by readers, in PBS's The Great American Read (2018). Darker was long-listed for the 2019 International DUBLIN Literary Award.
She was a producer on each of the three Fifty Shades movies, which made more than a billion dollars at the box office. The third installment, Fifty Shades Freed, won the People's Choice Award for Drama in 2018. E L James is blessed with two wonderful sons and lives with her husband, the novelist and screenwriter Niall Leonard, and their West Highland terriers in the leafy suburbs of West London.

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PROLOGUE
 
He’s come back. Mommy’s asleep or she’s sick again.
 
I hide and curl up small under the table in the kitchen. Through my fingers I can see Mommy. She is asleep on the couch. Her hand is on the sticky green rug, and he’s wearing his big boots with the shiny buckle and standing over Mommy shouting.
 
He hits Mommy with a belt. Get up! Get up! You are one fucked-up bitch. You are one fucked-up bitch. You are one fucked-up bitch. You are one fucked-up bitch. You are one fucked-up bitch. You are one fucked-up bitch.
 
Mommy makes a sobbing noise. Stop. Please stop. Mommy doesn’t scream. Mommy curls up small.
 
I have my fingers in my ears, and I close my eyes. The sound stops.
 
He turns and I can see his boots as he stomps into the kitchen. He still has the belt. He is trying to find me.
 
He stoops down and grins. He smells nasty. Of cigarettes and drink. There you are, you little shit.
 
 
A chilling wail wakes him. Christ! He’s drenched in sweat and his heart is pounding. What the fuck? He sits bolt upright in bed and puts his head in hands. Fuck. They’re back. The noise was me. He takes a deep steadying breath, trying to rid his mind and nostrils of the smell of cheap bourbon and stale Camel cigarettes.
 
 
CHAPTER ONE
 
I have survived Day Three Post-Christian, and my first day at work. It has been a welcome distraction. The time has flown by in a haze of new faces, work to do, and Mr. Jack Hyde. Mr. Jack Hyde . . . he smiles down at me, his blue eyes twinkling, as he leans against my desk.
 
“Excellent work, Ana. I think we’re going to make a great
team.”
 
Somehow, I manage to curl my lips upward in a semblance of a smile.
 
“I’ll be off, if that’s okay with you,” I murmur.
 
“Of course, it’s five thirty. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
 
“Good night, Jack.”
 
“Good night, Ana.”
 
Collecting my bag, I shrug on my jacket and head for the door.
Out in the early evening air of Seattle, I take a deep breath. It doesn’t begin to fill the void in my chest, a void that’s been present since Saturday morning, a painful hollow reminder of my loss. I walk toward the bus stop with my head down, staring at my feet and contemplating being without my beloved Wanda, my old Beetle . . . or the Audi.
 
I shut the door on that thought immediately. No. Don’t think about him. Of course, I can afford a car—a nice, new car. I suspect he has been overgenerous in his payment, and the thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but I dismiss it and try to keep my mind as numb and as blank as possible. I can’t think about him. I don’t want to start crying again—not out on the street.
 
The apartment is empty. I miss Kate, and I imagine her lying on a beach in Barbados sipping a cool cocktail. I turn on the flat-screen television so there’s noise to fill the vacuum and provide some semblance of company, but I don’t listen or watch. I sit and stare blankly at the brick wall. I am numb. I feel nothing but the pain. How long must I endure this?
 
The door buzzer startles me from my anguish, and my heart skips a beat. Who could that be? I press the intercom.
 
“Delivery for Ms. Steele.” A bored, disembodied voice answers, and disappointment crashes through me. I listlessly make my way downstairs and find a young man noisily chewing gum, holding a large cardboard box, and leaning against the front door. I sign for the package and take it upstairs. The box is huge and surprisingly light. Inside are two dozen long-stemmed, white roses and a card.
 
 
Congratulations on your first day at work.
I hope it went well.
And thank you for the glider. That was very thoughtful.
It has pride of place on my desk.
Christian
 
 
I stare at the typed card, the hollow in my chest expanding. No doubt, his assistant sent this. Christian probably had very little to do with it. It’s too painful to think about. I examine the roses—they are beautiful, and I can’t bring myself to throw them in the trash. Dutifully, I make my way into the kitchen to hunt down a vase.
 
 
And so a pattern develops: wake, work, cry, sleep. Well, try to sleep. I can’t even escape him in my dreams. Gray burning eyes, his lost look, his hair burnished and bright all haunt me. And the music . . . so much music—I cannot bear to hear any music. I am careful to avoid it at all costs. Even the jingles in commercials make me shudder.
 
I have spoken to no one, not even my mother or Ray. I don’t have the capacity for idle talk now. No, I want none of it. I have become my own island state. A ravaged, war-torn land where nothing grows and the horizons are bleak. Yes, that’s me. I can interact impersonally at work, but that’s it. If I talk to Mom, I know I will break even further—and I have nothing left to break.
 
 
I am finding it difficult to eat. By lunchtime on Wednesday, I manage a cup of yogurt, and it’s the first thing I’ve eaten since Friday. I am surviving on a newfound tolerance for lattes and Diet Coke. It’s the caffeine that keeps me going, but it’s making me anxious.
 
Jack has started to hover over me, irritating me, asking me personal questions. What does he want? I’m polite, but I need to keep him at arm’s length.
 
I sit and begin trawling through a pile of correspondence addressed to him, and I’m pleased with the distraction of menial work. My e-mail pings, and I quickly check to see who it’s from.
 
Holy shit. An e-mail from Christian. Oh no, not here . . . not at work.
 
 
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Tomorrow
Date: June 8 2011 14:05
To: Anastasia Steele
 
Dear Anastasia
 
Forgive this intrusion at work. I hope that it’s going well. Did you get my flowers?
 
I note that tomorrow is the gallery opening for your friend’s show, and I’m sure you’ve not had time to purchase a car, and it’s a long drive. I would be more than happy to take you—should you wish.
 
Let me know.
 
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
 
 
Tears swim in my eyes. I hastily leave my desk and bolt to the restroom to escape into one of the stalls. José’s show. I’d forgotten all about it, and I promised him I’d go. Shit, Christian is right; how am I going to get there?
 
I clutch my forehead. Why hasn’t José phoned? Come to think of it—why hasn’t anyone phoned? I’ve been so absentminded I haven’t noticed that my cell phone has been silent.
 
Shit! I am such an idiot! I still have it set to forward calls to the BlackBerry. Holy hell. Christian’s been getting my calls—unless he’s just thrown the BlackBerry away. How did he get my e-mail address?
 
He knows my shoe size; an e-mail address is hardly going to present him with many problems.
 
Can I see him again? Could I bear it? Do I want to see him? I close my eyes and tilt my head back as grief and longing lance through me. Of course I do.
 
Perhaps—perhaps I can tell him I’ve changed my mind . . . No, no, no. I cannot be with someone...

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Verlag
Bloom Books
Erscheinungsdatum
2012
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0345803493
ISBN 13 
9780345803498
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
576
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
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