Petra Larson is The Ice Queen - read about the secret double life of a dominatrix

Petra Larson is a head turner; people notice her more than other women. Young, smart and confident, she is an example of a beautiful, successful woman who appears to have it all, but there is more to her than meets the eye: her job at a lettings agency cloaks a dangerous and lucrative secret life.  Jerry Byrne meanwhile is a normal guy working in a normal job, preferring a quiet, normal life. When Petra is brutally raped, there's only one person she can turn to - her boss, Jerry Byrne.

Following attacks on other women and when a fatal accident takes place in suspicious circumstances, something must be done to end the violence and it is only when Jerry's life is set on a collision course with Petra's that he discovers what she is capable of. Forced to react, one way or the other, how will the normally indecisive Jerry respond? Will he support her actions? Can he remain within the law? Will this mean the end for them?

This is the first book in the Petra Larson series. It charts her journey as she tries to navigate through her troubled life. Petra flees to Boston USA to recover after her brutal ordeal, meeting up with a woman who has helped her throughout a sporting career. Read how she got to this low point and about the relationships she has in her life before and beyond.

An excerpt;

'Jerry?' He could hardly hear the voice which at first he failed to recognise.

'Jerry, it's Petra. Can you talk?' Her voice was faint, almost distant, and once he realised who it was an uncanny protective caution took over which stopped him from blurting out her name. He looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching him and whether they were taking any particular interest in the call.

'Are you okay – is something wrong? You don't sound right.' Jerry didn't mention her name and managed to keep his voice low enough to avoid being overheard. He was used to having his own office when he worked in London and while he found it didn't make any difference to working practice, it did sometimes have its advantages.

'No, Jerry, I'm not. I'm in trouble, and I need your help. I have nobody else I can turn to.' Petra was sobbing as she spoke and Jerry felt a sense of panic as he tried to imagine what she meant by being in trouble.

'Where are you? What do you want me to do?' he asked.

'I'm just outside Gloucester, Jerry, at the Holiday Inn. I need you to come over and help me – can you do that? I am so sorry to ask, but I am desperate.' Her voice was weak, she sounded dreadful and alarm bells were ringing now.

'What has happened?' He still managed to avoid using her name, which Janice would have picked up – she had noticed Jerry's concern and was straining to listen in to the conversation.

'I really cannot explain now, Jerry. What I can say is I am in real trouble and I have nobody else who can help me. Please, tell me you can come.'

'Of course I can. I'll make my excuses and leave at once; I should be with you in under an hour. I know where the hotel is – just off the M5 – is that the one?'

'Yes, Jerry, you can't miss it. Go straight through reception and come up to the first floor, room 106. I'll be waiting – please hurry.' Petra sounded so subdued; her voice, normally firm and precise, was little more than a whisper. Something was seriously wrong and he needed to get out there as soon as he could.

'See you soon and try not to worry, okay? Bye.' He rang off and wondered how he was going to excuse himself and get on his way. The first thing he did was ring Cranshaw's office. His secretary answered and Jerry asked if he could come up as he had a personal emergency he had to attend to right away. He started to think of an excuse – a family member taken ill, or maybe involved in an accident. It was hardly going to be possible to check out, was it? He decided to use his mother as the excuse and as he rushed up the stairs he silently begged her forgiveness and hoped what he was going to say about her didn't become reality.

Cranshaw was very understanding and told Jerry to just inform his group and go as soon as he could. While he told Cranshaw it was his mother, he didn't say any more to his team other than he had just received some bad news and a family member had been taken ill. As was her habit, Janice wanted to know what was wrong and who it was, but thankfully Danny came to his rescue and told her to stop being so bloody insensitive. Jerry liked Danny and, feeling that he was most mature member of the team, asked him if he could handle his work until he returned. Danny had Jerry's mobile number anyway so he knew he could rely on him making contact if some emergency arose. With that, Jerry shut down his workstation and left.

Jerry hoped, just for once, Bath would not be gridlocked with traffic and his prayers seemed to have been answered. He travelled east initially and picked up the A46 and then headed for the M4. Normally he would have taken the country route, skirting Tetbury and onto Stroud, either picking up the M5 there or continuing to the A417 where he knew the Holiday Inn was located. Jerry had driven past the hotel many times and its location had always been confusing with it being equidistant between Gloucester and Cheltenham but not in any real sense connected to either? Today was a day when speed was essential and, short of being stopped for speeding, he knew if he floored it his BMW could get him to Petra quickly. He kept to the outside lane with headlights on full beam and hardly dropped below 100mph until he got to the Almondsbury interchange where he transferred from the westbound M4 to the northbound M5.

The traffic was reasonably light for a Monday and, keeping his eyes peeled for police patrols, he put his foot down again and very soon passed Stroud. The Gloucester exit soon appeared and he followed the sign to Cirencester and the A417. Very soon he saw the doughnut shape of the GCHQ building ahead and to the right the Holiday Inn itself. The car park was quite empty and he guessed most of the short-break guests had left and it was still too early for the new business clientele to arrive and check in. He had no idea what sort of shape Petra was in and whether she would be able to handle a walk to the far end of the car park, so he parked as close as possible to the main entrance.

The foyer was light and airy, very new and modern, reflecting the décor of the hotel as a whole. Times had changed since the rectangular box shapes which seemed to epitomise hotel design in bygone days. There was a slight smell of chlorine, which suggested a swimming pool was close by, and he wondered if Petra had used it. This prompted further questions, the first of which was what the hell was she doing in a hotel not that far from Bath where she apparently lived? He had a lot of questions to ask and he would have to take care not to overwhelm her until he felt she was in a fit state to do so.

There was no challenge to Jerry as he entered. He tried to look as if he was in familiar territory and headed straight to some stairs rather than take the nearby lift to the first floor. At the head of the stairwell was a helpful sign indicating that room 106 was in a range of rooms off to his right. His heart raced as he moved steadily along, passing 90 and counting up towards 100. He wasn't sure if his excitement was at the prospect of seeing her, or for fear of what he might find when he got there. The door to 106 was little different to any of the others along the corridor. He had always been fascinated by hotels and the human lives lived out behind their closed doors, each room allowing a degree of anonymity yet possibly hiding some horrendous situations; he wondered what stories the housemaids could tell.

The only difference between 106 and its neighbours was the Do Not Disturb sign, hanging over the door handle. He also noted a swipe card entry system which had replaced the now out-of-date key systems. Jerry stopped, took a deep breath and knocked gently. After a delay, the door was opened slightly but left on the security chain, and a familiar face peered around the gap. Once Petra had confirmed who had knocked she opened the door to let him in. Jerry's first impression was one of chaos – the room was a shambles. Nothing was smashed or broken, it was just a total mess. Something had gone on in this room and it was obvious Petra had been at the heart of it. He turned to look at her and went rigid with shock: she had a black eye, her mouth was bruised, her top lip was split and had been bleeding, there were traces of blood all over her face and he noticed smears of blood on her dress.

'My god, Petra! What has happened to you? How did you get into this state? Who did this to you?' He tried to limit his questions but seeing her like this had thrown that plan out of the window. He fired out several questions in quick succession but they were totally fair and understandable under the circumstances. Tears welled up in her eyes and her lips quivered with emotion. Jerry's heart was almost bursting; he was feeling emotional too, and instinctively he wanted to protect her, to remove her pain, so he leaned forward and pulled her tightly to him. He felt her stiffen and she cried out in pain, but even so she didn't try to back away.

'Sorry Jerry, it's not you – I'm just hurt, that's all. It feels so nice to be held; I just wish it was you doing it now without all the rest that has happened.'

'Petra, you still haven't told me what happened. Who did this to you?' Jerry whispered the words into her hair which was a mess and not like her at all. She remained in his embrace a little longer before she slowly pulled away and took a tentative step backwards. Her face was such a mess and it was obvious she had been punched. What bothered Jerry most was what else had been done to her.

'Please, Jerry, not now. I promise I'll tell you everything soon, but now I have to get out of here. The housemaid has already been along once and I need to be away before she comes back again. Can you check me out – I'm not sure I can get down to reception and they might ask awkward questions?'

'Of course I can; I'll do it right away. Will you be alright until I get back?' He stepped away and noticed the swipe card on a table near the doorway. A modernistic lamp shed a cone of soft light on it in an otherwise dark and forbidding room. Whatever had taken place in there must have been hellish and all the fancy lighting in the world wasn't going to change that. He picked up the card and stopped in his tracks when he noticed the name printed across the top – Janice Ryder.

'For chrissake, Petra. What is going on here? Why are you booked in here as Janice – are you totally mad?' He looked over at this beautiful but broken woman and realised he had been unnecessarily harsh and quickly regretted his words. 'Sorry, I didn't mean that. Just give me five minutes and don't open the door, okay?'

When he stepped into the corridor he saw the housemaid taking fresh sheets into the room opposite. He realised she would get to Petra's room next so he spoke to the young woman who appeared to be a Filipino. In his engaging way, Jerry explained that the lady in 106 had had a late night and a bit too much to drink but would be leaving in the next few minutes. The girl smiled warmly and said she had only just started the room she was on and would not be ready to do 106 just yet. That was reassuring as the last thing Petra needed was anyone seeing her in her current state. Jerry noticed a fire exit sign and, leaving the girl to resume her cleaning, walked along to a short corridor which led to emergency stairs. He made his way to the fire exit door and noticed that the car park extended around to the back of the building, so he would be able to move his car to the bottom of the stairs and take Petra out that way.

Jerry quickly paid the bill for room 106. He used the same reason for late departure as he had to the housemaid and that seemed to be a fairly common occurrence, according to the young woman at reception. He walked out through the main entrance to his car and drove it to a parking space close to the emergency stairs around the back. When he returned he used the swipe card in Janice's name and entered the room. Petra was over by the window, looking out and it seemed to take her several seconds to realise he had returned. He knew he had to take charge of the situation and so he quickly set about tidying up the room. A chair was overturned and other things, like a small two-seater sofa, were skewed at an unlikely angle. Very quickly a semblance of order was restored. The bed was next. There was a tangle of blood-smeared sheets which he managed to pull back to the end of the bed and fold discretely. Some pillows were piled in the centre of the bed so he shoved them back in their normal position, helping to conceal more bloody smears in the process.

A gradual realisation of events was becoming clearer to Jerry; though he still needed Petra to explain more fully, but that could wait – the main thing was to finish clearing up and get her down to the car without being seen. Then Jerry saw something which sent a shiver through his body – a rope was knotted to one leg of the bed and its long trailing ends lay along the carpeted floor. He looked to the rear of the bed and found the same there. He didn't need to look to realise he would find the same on the other side too. Looking at Petra's wrists he saw the tell-tale red marks which represented the final part of the jigsaw: Petra had been tied spread-eagled to the bed – but it wasn't clear to him which way up.

'You are going to have to explain what the hell happened here, Petra, but let's leave that until later, for god's sake.' He saw fear and humiliation on her face but the anger he felt couldn't prevent him from venting his frustration. She had obviously got involved with someone nasty and vicious and maybe she could count herself lucky she was still alive. He quickly untied the ropes and rolled them up before stuffing them into her overnight bag. There was another bag beside it, like a cricket bag; he had seen England cricketers pushing trolleys at airports with bags just like it.

'What's in the big bag, Petra?' Jerry asked.

'Please Jerry, not here. I beg you not to open it now, please Jerry.' Petra just stood there. It was obvious something very bad was linked to the bag and he didn't pursue the matter any further. That would have to be for later when he would find out the whole story, or so he hoped anyway. A final check of the bathroom, which was mercifully clean and quite normal, and they were ready to depart. He thought the best solution would be to get Petra down to the car and then return for her bags. He still wondered what the hell was in that long bag, the one she wanted him to leave unopened. He had read of gruesome things being found in bags, severed heads and hands – even dead babies. Somehow he didn't think Petra was some serial murderer who cut up her victims and left body parts all over the country.

'Time to go, then. I'll take you to my car which is parked by a fire exit, then I'll return for the bags. Can you walk?' She looked up at him and slowly shook her head.

'It looks like this is going to be your Officer and a Gentleman moment, then. Can you trust me not to fall down the stairs?' He was pleased to get a weak smile in response.

'I have trusted you this far, Jerry, and I don't think it'll be a great idea to go to reception and ask for a wheelchair, do you?' That was one thing they could both agree on under the circumstances; the quicker and more quietly they left the better.

Jerry eased open the door quietly. The corridor was empty, and the sound of music playing and some soft singing coming from the room opposite suggested the maid was still hard at work, so if they left now they wouldn't bump into her.

'It's now or never, Petra. Hold me round my neck and I'll pick you up.'

Petra Larson is The Ice Queen

Available on Amazon - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00YFEXC0C