I didn't want it to be a cheap horror story, I wanted it to mean something. I wanted it to be a metaphor.There will be no innocent victim. I thought a...out the house's history. It had been a brothel, a place of debauchery, a place many people would frown upon today. That would be my background, a brothel.I needed it to focus around the real story of the house, but I needed to make it better. I had always concerned myself with what was going to happen next; as I wrote, I would always think about. I am gladthat I went for an unconventional beauty, the long nose, thesmall beestung lips. As afinal touch glasses, tinted in yellow, the lenses held in upswept 50?s frames.A schoolmarm or office boss from hell and of course the Givenchy liberallyspattered over my whole ensemble. Time to make some bitch suffer. I stridefrom my dressing room, my heels click on the floor in the tiled corridor, myskirt slaps against my legs at every step, the satin lining hissing over mystockinged thighs, I feel. More

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