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Copyright © 2010 Emma Lowe.

All rights reserved.


This story, "The Not So Secret Life of Helena Callahan" including all chapters, prologues/epilogues and associated content (i.e fanfics, teasers and content within blogs, social networks, and eReaders) is copyrighted. All rights are reserved by the owner and creator of this work (Emma Lowe) and any unauthorised copying, broadcasting, manipulation, distribution or selling of this work constitutes as an infringement of copyright. Any infringement of this copyright is punishable by law. Any links, images, brand names or otherwise copyrighted material is not my own, and is not covered by my copyright. No copyright Infringement Intended.

WARNING: This novel does have strong violence, harsh language, and sexual references.



I'M YOUR EVERDAY ORDINARY GUY, your run of the mill normal person; a typical average Joe. Well, that's what I guessed the man that just passed by me was thinking. Me, however, well I'm anything but ordinary. In fact, my life is so extremely un-average that I think I just might qualify for a 'most un-average person ever' award, or at the very least something from a similar category.

The wind was picking up now, and even in Sydney, Australia, winter may as well be snowing. I was freezing my ass off! Of course I probably wouldn't have been so cold if I wasn't dressed in a denim mini-skirt, black fishnet stockings, and a leather jacket with what may as well be a red bra underneath.

That's when they found me.

My heart sunk into the pits of my stomach, as I realised it was the same man as last time. What. Was he stalking me now? I knew they saw me, and they knew I saw them. But that didn't stop me from leaving the corner near Kings Cross station and running for my life, because I highly doubt they would let me go with a warning this time.

My high heel leather boots collided with the moist concrete, and I fought to keep my stance strong.

God, why did I have to wear heels tonight?

I mentally scolded myself while making a break for it down the nearest alleyway. Surely I could lose them, surely they'd give up.

They didn't.

Two burly men jumped at me from out of nowhere, and I was about to start randomly throwing punches, but it was too late. The man who was constantly following me around already had me in handcuffs.

"Miss Callahan, you're being arrested with forgery, petty larceny, arson, and prostitution. You have the right to remain silent . . ."

Ah, hell! How could this day possibly get any worse?


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