"She stroked his ginger fur beneath trembling fingers. Smooth as silk with claws like knives, she trembled at the thought of them slicing through her pale skin. Even as he looked at her, with the eyes of a killer, she knew that her heart would always belong to him. Him alone and no other. She did not care about the hundred who lay dead, littered behind him in the wake of his cruelty. She cared only that he chose her. And so she put the plate of cat food down and waited to discover his next desire. Her only fulfilment would come when all his desires were met. She was his slave." ( Short extract from 50 Shades of Ginger for Kathryn Evans)