by Ethan Stone

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Damaged by Ethan Stone

Correctional Officer Zane Davis assumed the worst thing he had to worry about working at a maximum security prison were the inmates but his co-workers could be just as dangerous.

Zane’s personal life is just as tricky as his professional one when he falls hard for Caseworker Brett Emerson, despite the man’s questionable fashion sense.

Brett and Zane become friends as they also work to uncover corruption at the prison. The friendship deepens and turns to romance and Brett supports him when Zane’s job is put on the line.

The love and the danger deepen as Zane’s life is threatened by the criminals on both sides of the bars.

Uniformity, Book Two. Second Edition.

Product Details

BN ID: 2940155320678
Publisher: Ethan Stone
Publication date: 07/01/2018
Sold by: Smashwords
Format: NOOK Book
Sales rank: 1,038,271
File size: 2 MB
Age Range: 18 Years

About the Author

Ethan Stone is becoming a duck once again. After more than a decade away from the soggy state of Oregon he is back in his home state. He used to have a day job where he wore a sexy uniform work, now he can wear whatever he wants to work as he attempts to see if this writing thing can support his Mt. Dew addiction.

Read an Excerpt

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I got to work that Monday morning. My work partner, Daniel ‘Kash’ Kashaveroff, had transferred to Reno the week prior so I’d be working with someone new. Kash had been my boyfriend for a while too, so working with him had been a pleasure, even after we’d broken up. It would be tough finding someone I liked working with as much as him.

“Get yer ass in here, Blue Eyes,” Judy Westland snapped in her Midwestern twang. “Yer new partner is already here.” She was sweet unless you pissed her off, then she was a royal bitch. At that moment she did not seem very happy at all, which didn’t fill me with hope that my new partner was a good one.

“Who is it?”

“See for yourself.” She motioned out of the window to the unit floor.

I looked out and groaned. CO Motherfucking Knowles. Gerry Knowles was at the top of the list of guys I despised having to be around. He was a short, chubby jerk who acted like he was six feet tall and bulletproof. He had an annoying sense of humor and liked to stir the shit with the inmates. He had been known to purposely piss off inmates just for the fun of it. He was thirty-eight, ten years older than me, but acted like a sixteen-year-old most of the time.

“Hey, bitch!” Knowles hollered when I entered the tier. I cringed inwardly. This was the guy I had to work with for the foreseeable future.

I smiled like I was thrilled to see him. “Knowles, man, how are you?”

“I’m rockin’, man.” He slapped my back as if we were old buddies and we bumped knuckles. “I’m thrilled to be working with you, Zane. I think we’re gonna be a great team.” Lots of officers knew each other well enough to use first names instead of the usual last name, but that wasn’t the case with Knowles and I. Him using my first name majorly annoyed me.

“Yeah.” I faked excitement.

Delivering breakfast trays was the first duty of the day. Because Seely State Prison was maximum security, most of the inmates were fed in their cells. Officers dished the food onto plastic trays and took them to the cell where we used a key to open a flap, which was a foot across and six inches tall. We set the tray on the flap, they took it and we closed the slot. Two officers would work in tandem—one would dish the food and the other would run the trays to the inmates.

“I’m running, you get to be the dish bitch,” Knowles announced.

I chuckled like he was the funniest guy on the planet and dished up four trays. He took two in each hand and delivered them to the first four cells.

When he got upstairs, Knowles took extra time at cell thirty-two, which housed an inmate named Johnny Wagner. Taking longer at a cell didn’t necessarily mean anything—there were some prisoners I bullshitted with a little.

A few minutes later, on the next set of trays, Knowles said, “Galloway in thirty-six won’t wake up so I guess he’s not eating.”

“You knocked on his window?” I asked. Inmates were supposed to be standing and ready for us at meal time, but it didn’t hurt to wake them.

“Yeah,” Knowles responded, but something about the way he said it made me suspicious.

We were almost done feeding when I heard an inmate call out from the upper tier.

“Hey, you skipped me!” It was Galloway.

“You wouldn’t wake up, I ain’t going back,” Knowles yelled back.

“Come on, man. I’ve been awake for hours.”

“Quit fucking lying!”

“You’re a bitch, Knowles,” Galloway replied.

I made an instant decision that I knew could backfire. I dished up one last tray and took it up to Galloway myself.

“Thanks, Davis,” he said when he took the tray.

“What the fuck, man?” Knowles hollered from the bottom of the stairs.

I didn’t want to outright accuse Knowles of lying so I tried to play it a little cool. “Dude has never given me any trouble. Don’t think it was a big deal to feed him even if he wasn’t ready right when you were at his door.”

“Friendly fucker,” Knowles muttered.

I clenched my fists so hard I could feel my nails digging into my palm. ‘Friendly’ had a different connotation in prison. A friendly officer was one who took an inmate’s side over an officer’s.


* * * *


Working with Knowles and not telling him he was a raging idiot was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I was relieved when we had a break and he went into the control room to eat. I needed some distance so I went to talk to Caseworker Brett Emerson, whose office was on the upper tier.

He was on the phone when I stepped into his office but he motioned for me to come in and sit. I didn’t mind waiting. It gave me a chance to check him out discreetly.

Based on his end of the conversation, Brett was trying to arrange parole plans for an inmate. Caseworkers were similar to social workers. They maintained the inmate’s personal information as well as where he should be housed, who he should live with and much more. I didn’t have a clue about everything caseworkers did, but I knew it involved more paperwork than I was interested in.

He had on the same ugly tie as the first time I’d met him a few months before. Back then my relationship with Kash had been on its last leg, though I hadn’t realized it. Meeting Brett had brought home to me in no uncertain terms the fact that I wasn’t ready to commit to Kash, because as soon as I’d met Brett I’d known I wanted to fuck him.

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Damaged 2 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 2 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This author seems to be very focused on cleanliness. A shower after EVERY sexual contact. Perhaps the author needs some therapy or OCD meds. Almost as if sex is dirty. In one chapter the character has a shower, gets oral sex and states he needs another shower. Wash away all those bad sex germs? Ive read other books from this author and dont remember the "gotta get clean" as soon as the deed is done. Puzzled...