Publisher's Synopsis
The Don't Give a Fuck Girl is the story about me. Kitty for friends. Gorgeous on the cover of the magazines. How am I? Modest? No way! Confident? Like no other! Humble? Let that to the pilgrims! In three words?! I am Me! I won't bother you telling how beautiful I am on the inside. You know, that stupid line. Oooh. Yeah. Blah, blah.I have blue eyes. Brilliant mind. And a lot of stories to tell.I can't say I'm torn from a star. But I'm not ugly with boughs, either. In a word, I'm fuckable. You can't ignore me.My secret is my attitude.I'm tall as it needs. Nice hips. Loveable tits.As an expression of an old friend says, I'm so good looking that I would bang myself.I have perfect dentition. Which makes my smile unforgettable. And also allow me to sink my fangs into a man's throat if I have to.On the covers of the magazines, I'm sort of Mona Lisa. But a beautiful one. Without that imbecile gaze type on my face.When the job is done, I'm just like you.Moody. Scatterbrained. Stubborn. That's how I was born. People around me always told me to change myself. And I know I can change. But I don't want to. Take me as I am. Or not. I don't ask you to like me.Virgo. By my zodiac sign. Otherwise, nothing in common. If good girls go to heaven, I'm in the opposite team. I choose to have fun here, on earth. Far from a saint. I don't pretend to be a virgin Mary or something. I won't stay at my window and say it was the holy spirit at my back. No. I tell you that I love to have sex. Anytime and anywhere. When I'm with someone I like, I never miss the chance. Just to be someone who makes me feel alive. Nearly Perfect. I'm an artist. So, nothing in this world, under no circumstances, can be perfect for me. Neither do I. But I feel so good in my skin. Being myself, a non-perfect human being. About what I'm doing in my bed, I'm not gay. But I'm not straight either. It all depends on how the stars align. Or what my eyes see.My body is hungry for human touch. All the time.I love to love men. And I love to love women. You can call me Lover of Love!For a while, I tried to be a wife. It didn't work out.Career. Hmm. I'm not such a great fan of this word. I prefer Steps of Life.First Cover at sixteen. Queen of the hill. In my mind, of course. Two years of roaming around the world with a Pimp Lady and her girls. Adventures, beautiful places, real-life, fake people.Eighteen when I sign with an N.Y. models agency. Rude awakening. Hard work. Rejections. Stubbornness to win. First serious money. Hundreds of covers made. Many advertising campaigns. Thousands of hours spent on airplanes. SUPERMODEL LIFE.Twenty-one when I meet a music megastar. Not so impressive in bed. But my songs in heavy rotation a few months later.Concerts. Fans. Alcohol. Hangovers. Unwanted pregnancies. ROCK N ROLL DAYS.Twenty-three and so when I have my first night with a girl. Isabella. In Dubai. Soft as satin black skin. Perfect chemistry. Fireworks on the ceiling. Mood for talk and smoke after. MY LIFE, MY BODY, MY CHOICES.One 'no strings attached' relationship with a billionaire. A fair trade from the start. My hot body for his mentorship and protection. WIN-WIN SITUATION.Cinema. 'Walking props' roles. They all call me beautiful. And invite me to take my clothes off. Kill 'em all, as Papa Het should say.Until I met one of the biggest Hollywood stars. Mister Fame. Didn't sleep with him from the start. First, I won the casting for the movie he produced. Disguised as a hideous woman. I supposed that my mission on this earth is to cheer people up.About the haters, eat your hate and die, you shadows. I wish you all the time in the world. To see all you love most dying.I don't hate. But I'm always paying back.Briefly, that's me.My loved ones call me Kitty. Kitten. Duckling. Little Goat. Dream Girl. Your Stubbornness.But on the covers of the magazines, I AM GORGEOU
