Eve Rabi

Stress and laps

everabi — Wed, 22 May 2013 22:33:03 +0000

If YOU REALLY WANNA GET TOUGH …

everabi — Wed, 22 May 2013 09:35:43 +0000

OBSESSED WITH ME

everabi — Tue, 21 May 2013 07:53:19 +0000

Tarago Jakobus was 6’4”, intelligent, extremely wealthy and an entrepreneur.
He was also openly racist, politically incorrect and a chauvinistic pig who told offensive jokes.
He loved to party and was used to women vying for his attention.
So when his eyes fell on Tanin, he expected her to just melt into his bed and be grateful that he even looked her way.
To his utter surprise, she was totally unimpressed with his wealth, thought he was an uneducated buffoon and publically rejected him.

Of course he was shocked and humiliated by her response.

But no woman had ever turned Tarago down before, and he found her fascinating. He became obsessed with her and decided to win her over his way – destroy all that is precious to her, so that she would have no choice but to need him.
If that didn’t work, he’d switch to plan ‘B’ – take away her freedom and throw her ass in jail.
And being the absolute bastard that he was, he did.

Obsessed With Me is a modern-day love story.

Warning: Contains violence, strong language, racial slurs, sex scenes,
sexual violence.

A two-part series

Reviews:
“I definitely enjoyed it, I had a great time reading it. And I’m really looking forward to read the next book. You left me here hanging Eve!!!!”

“Can I rate 6 stars, maybe even 7 stars? How do you do it? Everytime you amaze me at how good you are at writing, you pull me into the story and even after I stop reading, the story is still in my head! Well done!! I have only one problem, WHEN can I read part two??”

“I love it!! When can I get book two?”

“Thank you for giving me hope that there are people who can write juicy stories. I was getting bored with modern day romance. Keep it hottt.”

http://www.amazon.com/Obsessed-Me-rejected-destroy-ebook/dp/B00CT1TMG6

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/316492

YOU WILL PAY

everabi — Fri, 10 May 2013 06:17:56 +0000

EXCERPT

“The part I hated most about my miserable existence – the bedroom.
I hated the way he demanded sex just about every night, forced me into perverted positions and the fact that he was insatiable.
Hated the way he roughed me up during sex, grabbed my hair, twisted my neck, the way his hand fastened around my throat while thrusting vigorously into me, the way he took total control over my body and my soul and dominated me in the harshest possible way, the way he demanded I orgasm in record time, then got irritated when I didn’t, the way I had to fake it just to please him, the way I broke down and cried in the bathroom so many times after sex with him, the man I had chosen to have and to hold.”

Reviews:

“Excellent, held my attention, eager to find out what Arena would do next…..”

“Brilliant. Felt real. Wanted to know more.”

“Wow. Rabi does it again. Fantastic but disturbing.”

NB: This book is about domestic abuse, abuse and contains strong language, violence and sexual violence.

To get this book free on on Amazon.com, please click on the “Tell us about a lower price” link below the product details.

http://www.amazon.com/You-Will-Pay-Abusive-ebook/dp/B00CPSGLEE

Gringa: In the Clutches of a Ruthless Drug Lord, books1-4 by Eve Rabi

everabi — Fri, 12 Apr 2013 17:09:05 +0000

Gringa: In the Clutches of a Ruthless Drug Lord, books1-4 by Eve Rabi.

My gynaecologist has asked me out on a date. After a physical examination. Seriously.

everabi — Thu, 04 Apr 2013 16:59:41 +0000

Been single for the last two years, and I’m absolutely content with it.

I feel free, really I do. I don’t have to bother with shaving my legs (among other places), I have complete control over the TV remote control in my bedroom, I can eat M&Ms in bed while perving Jason Momoa on Youtube, and I can choose to sleep on the left hand side, the right hand side, or under my king-size bed.

But my gran, (she’s eighty-nine, but doesn’t look a day over eighty-eight) she’s a pain in the ass neck – insisted that I get back onto the dating scene. Doesn’t want me sitting on any shelf.

She made me buy an iPhone (said men will be heaps impressed that I have one) and insisted I get myself an iPad which she instructed me to take on my dates (said men will be heaps impressed that I have one). Then she badgered me into visiting a beautician (said men will be heaps impressed with the end result).

Grudgingly, and since I had her will to think about, I caved – had my hair colored and layered with a spiky fringe that rivals Ashton Kutcher, had a shellac manicure and pedicure, an oxygen facial for fuck knows what , waxed till I screamed in agony — an orgy of self-indulgence, except for the waxing bit.

To firm, tone and get my ass into my not-so-little black dress, I amped up the exercise – hit the treadmill for forty-five minutes a day and lifted my bodyweight, while listening toEye of the Tiger. (Okay, so I exaggerate – I lifted two cans of baked beans.) gave up M&Ms, chocolate cake and Coke (cola not the other Kate Moss thingi).

Felt great, and those endorphins – got me taking the high road. No seriously, When somebody stole my parking space, instead of threatening to bust a cap in their ass or yelling stuff about their mother they didn’t know, I shrugged, then circled the block foranother fifteen minutes.

Then gran showed me how to create a profile on an on-line dating site.

All good – my first day there, I snagged a bus driver with a great sense of humor. I never dated a bus driver before, so I thought, what the heck, let’s live a little. Hopefully, he’d let me drive the bus. However, contrary to what I thought, his company vehicle was not a bus. Every night he has to leave it behind. Can you believe that? Of course I was disappointed. And since he yacked non-stop about his domineering mother and didn’t give me a chance to get one word in about my domineering gran, I shouted ‘neeeext!’

And next, I met David Crook, a criminal attorney. A widow. My heart went out to him — poor man must have experienced so much pain with the death of his spouse. I resisted the urge to give him a hug.

He was good-looking, laughed at my jokes, had neat fingernails, breath that did not smell of cat food and took me to a swanky restaurant where the prices did not appear on the menu. (I was a tad worried, cos the twenty in my purse would pay for fuck all in that stiff joint.)

Both he and the waiter talked like Inspector Clouseau from Pink Panties Panther. Was I impressed? Fuck yeah! Even though I have some French heritage, I unfortunately do not speak French and neither do I like croissants or frogs legs. (I’m not averse to French kissing though.)

Anyho, David Crook was perfect, even with that surname. He seemed enthralled with me and almost immediately talked about taking me on a cruise.

Easy peasy. I smiled to myself when I though how quickly I had snagged husband number two. Record time. As we dined, in my mind, I was choosing the venue for my wedding, picturing the look of utter astonishment on my ex-husband’s face when I told him that I was getting married before him to a lawyer (so don’t fuck with me, I will get my new husband to sue yo ass); I was practicing saying my married name, Eve Crook (okay that didn’t sound too good, but hey, I needed to get married before my ex-husband, remember?) and finally, the look on my gran’s face when I told her that the iPhone and iPad really did the trick.

Then, the bombshell – David Crook leans in, drops his voice, looks into my eyes and says, “I know how to commit the perfect murder and get away with it.”

“Yeah?”

“Ooooh yeah. And I won’t get caught.”

“But …what about the twenty-five mistakes a criminal ma…?”
“I didn’t.”

Not realizing what he just said, his eyes twinkled as he went on to talk about duct tape and bleach and alibi and barrels of acid and how not to use your credit card so as to avoid a paper trail …

All this after only two glasses of French champagne. WTF?

Remember, he’s a widow! Why the hell didn’t I ask him how his wife died before I accepted a date with him?

Now I may be a writer of graphic and even violent scenes, but I’m a bit of a scady cat, so that was it for me. I silently held a funeral for my wedding plans and surreptitiously eyed the exit.

I played it cool though – acted like I was impressed and said, “You should write a book, you psycho, eh, David. Will be a best seller for sure.” Showed all my teeth when I smiled. (And if you look at my photos, I have a looooot of teeth.)

However, the moment I got a chance, (after dessert of course. No need to let a good double-choc mousse go to waste) I grabbed the Chanel purse I borrowed from my sister, my iPhone and my iPad and high-tailed it out of the swanky restaurant. Then I changed my phone number.

Okay, so I didn’t change my cell number, but I did what any mature woman would do and came clean with Crook – I hit him with a text:

Hey David thanks for the lovely dinner. Sorry while talking to u, I realized that I want to become a lesbian nun. So sorry to have wasted your time. All the best. Best of luck with that crime thriller.

I chose not to tell gran about my dating disaster just yet. But I decided that I hated the dating scene. Would rather have root-canal than do the dating thing. (No pun on ‘root.’) So I stopped visiting the dating site and instead googled Crimestoppers rewards page.

The next day, I visited my gynae – routine check-up.

I’ve known him for years, so as he inspected and probed, we chatted about a lot of things. For some reason, that day, we talked about Lionel Ritchie. Why? God only knows.

My check-up was without incident, thank God.

Just as I’m leaving his practice, he asked me to dinner.

I was floored, then confused:

A) I didn’t know that he was now single and

2) He had just examined my reproductive organs.

What the fuck? (No pun on ‘fuck.’)

I took another look at him – all his teeth, taller than me, still got a lot of his hair (on his head), earring in one ear, skinny jeans under his white coat.

“Does your ex live in Sydney?” I asked, in a voice dripping with disinfectant honey.

“Yes.”

Okay, so she’s alive. But I had to make doubly-sure. “Where in Sydney?”

“St Ives.”

I accepted the date.

Trouble is when I told my friends and family about them, the reaction was similar – three stages of response:

Stage one:

Silence.

Stage two:

“That’s …nice.”

“Oh, reeeeeally?”

“You serious?”

Stage three:

Laughter, followed by, “You must have a very good looking …” (Fill in the blank)

Laughter followed by, “Did he ask after your inspection?”

Laughter, followed by, “Is that legal?”

Laughter, followed by, “This doesn’t sound right.”

Laughter, followed by, “Did he give you a mammogram as well?”

Laughter, followed by, “Was the check-up any different from the last one? You know, the ‘examination?’”

Laughter, followed by, “You realize you have to change your gynae after this?”

After giving it a lot of thought and feeling as uncomfortable as hell, I decided to bail. I typed up a text.

Hey Daniel, sorry, unable to make dinner gotta take a raincheck will call u

But just as I was about to hit send, he texted me!

Eve, looking forwards to Friday night. Pick you up at seven. I have ur address.

Chills went down my spine. This man knew a lot about vaginas and he knew a lot about me –inside and outside – Fuuuuuuck!

In the end, I didn’t send the text. I’ve decided to keep the date. If all else fails, I have fodder for my books.

If the roles were reversed, say he came to me for a routine prostrate examination (If I was female doctor, not a writer of romance novels, so puh-leese!) and after the examination, I asked him out, would he think about it while driving, cooking, cleaning, going to sleep? Would he blog about it, discuss it with his friends and family? Would he mention it to his gran?

Oh, shit, taking ’bout Gran, how’s the old bat going to react to my dating feedback/ fiasco thus far? Would she lose confidence in me and cut me out of her will? Would she lose confidence in the iPhone and iPad theory and force me to purchase a typewriter instead?

Time will tell. Right now, gotta grab some baked beans and hit the treadmill again to Eye of the Tiger.

Friday, here I come. Ready or not.

Stay tuned for details of my date with my gynae.

Eve Rabi is the author of 14 books and is known for her kick-ass leading ladies, and her no-holes bared, modern-day love stories. She is known to offend and entertain at the same time. Guaranteed, you will laugh.

http://www.facebook.com/eve.rabi

A Vain and Cruel Queen, a Gay Prince, a Poor Village Girl and an Unsuspecting New Yorker …

everabi — Tue, 02 Apr 2013 01:12:50 +0000

A vain and cruel queen, a gay prince, a poor village girl and an unsuspecting New Yorker, all drawn into a web of lies and deceit. A bi-racial, modern-day story about forbidden love.

FOR A LIMITED TIME THIS BOOK IS FREE ON AMAZON.COM

To download, click on link below:

http://www.amazon.com/Royal-Deception-Palace-Series-ebook/dp/B00BC1H04K

Reviews:

“…it’s like an ugly duckling meets Snow White’s bitch of a Wicked Stepmother…”

“Eve develops such wonderful characters in this series and makes you feel so much emotion that you really do wander off into the world of Henna. Another inspiring series that will stay with you long after the book is finished.”

”Not for the faint of heart, Royal Deception is intense. Starting with a homely 13 year old village girl, we watch as she grows into a beautiful woman…the ugly duckling scenario wrapped around dysfunctional families, royal lies, a queen who is beautiful…but evil.”

”A fascinating story.”

”I absolutely love this book, Can’t wait until the second part!!”

”Such a terrific lovestory..the palace scenes are so vivid everything is so vivid..and Henna is the most adorable and lively heroine i’ve come across..her dismal fate makes me teary..can’t wait to read the next part..well done!!five star book.”

For a limited time, Royal Deception – A Palace full of Liars, is free on amazon.com

so get your copy t’ray!:)

http://www.amazon.com/Royal-Deception-Palace-Series-ebook/dp/B00BC1H04K

I’m every woman, it’s all in me ….

everabi — Sat, 30 Mar 2013 06:03:51 +0000

It’s was my daughter’s birthday yesterday, so I decided to bake her a cake. Maybe I was sleep-deprived or something, I decided to bake it …from scratch. Yeah, you heard right – all my bloody deadlines but still…

Excited at the prospect of being able to boast that I could make something from scratch (other than write novels) I switched on my Nigella and hit YouTube with essentials like pen,

paper and a glass of chardonnay. (For courage – hadn’t made anything from scratch for donkey’s ~~ears~~ years.)

As I watched my computer screen, I was shocked to discover that the beautiful and mesmerizing Nigella takes an alarming number of short cuts. She’s now into ‘assembling’ food. (Not alarming to me – I’m all for short cuts. Except when it comes to birth control. Know what I mean?)

So, who am I to argue – I stopped my ‘scratching’, had another glass of courage and zoomed into plan E.

The result is the photo you see.

I’m so proud, I’ve showed it to everyone I know. And everyone I don’t know. It’s like a I’m Capable badge. Haven’t felt this proud since I learned how ~~to pirate music on the internet~~ operate my iron.

But hey, shortcut or no shortcut, I’m still every woman inside of meeeee,

anything you want done babyyyy, I’ll do it naturalllllllly,

cos I’ve got it, I’ve got it, I’ve got it, got it, baby, ’cause…

(Naturally? No fucking way.)

PS: My daughter thinks I’m amazing to have made the M&Ms, the Kit Kat, the gold coins and the candles. I left it at that so as to avoid confusing her. Let her therapist deal with it when she grows up:)

Dear Elizabeth Hurley

everabi — Sun, 24 Mar 2013 19:28:04 +0000

Dear Elizabeth Hurley
(Warning: Mature themes and profanity)
My gran and I were wondering – just how do you do it? Hugh Grant, Arun Nayar and Shane Warne? Gran says it’s like you’ve won the trifecta.
Hugh Grant was so sexy in Four Weddings, even though my gran thinks that he was in serious need of a speech pathologist and even an eye specialist, with all the blinking he did. And Arun …well, let’s just say that I like my men tall, dark and sweet, the same way I like my chai.
As for Warnie – so he took his mother’s diet pills – big deal. My gran, who is eighty-nine and very wise, says that if a man takes diet pills without prompting , it’s a good thing, cos when the times comes, he will take Viagra without any hassles unlike my grandpa—the bastard refused to.

And you holiday with your husband and your ex-boyfriend? Wow! That’s that amazing. I’m not as secure as Arun – I would have been scared to drink too much in case I passed out and left you free to walk down memory lane with Hugh. Know what I’m saying, Liz? Again, we don’t know how you do it, but my gran and I speak for all the women in the world when we say, “You go girlfrien’!”
What we like about you, is that when you are choosing men, you keep it real – no toyboys and no cougaring on your part. (Hear that Demi? JLO?) My gran says that’s smart. (She does say that you must keep an open mind, though, cos stamina rocks. She winked when she said that. Either that or her cataracts is playing up.)

You’re obviously a super woman, cos you do so much at the same time – motherhood, your clothing lines, your acting, multiple weddings and stuff…
Yet, you look so sexy and together all the time. Like you stepped out of the pages of an Estee Lauder catalogue. Wow!
And the way you manage your men? I mean, you even managed to get Warnie on watercress soup too – he looks great now that he’s lost the paunch. Keep at it and one of these days you’re gonna see Woody Allen Jude Law when you look at him.
As for you, unlike Kirsty Alley, Oprah and Tony Soprano, your weight remains constant. No yo-yo dieting for you.
My gran says that I must tell you that she tried the watercress soup, and well, she didn’t dig it. Says it tasted like crap grass from her garden drenched in a combination of rainwater and snail piss.
Got to confess, Liz, I had a similar experience with the watercress soup and that is why my weight is a lot more than my IQ.

The way you shine, Liz, if I were your girlfriends, I would be so jealous of you and your charming life. We’re curious to know how many genuine girlfriends you have, though. Beautiful, successful women like you must have it tough in the friendship stakes? (Gran says that you must exclude girlfriends like Elton John, George Michael, Mick Jagger and Simon Cowell.)
I mean, we’ve watched Real Housewives, seen the botoxed bitches cattiness and ass kicking among beautiful women, so we know how hard it is to find genuine friends among the rich and famous. It’s usually the fugly ones who are genuine. But I doubt you’d have fugly friends. Your life is picture-perfect and I have to admit, sometimes I maybe be cursing you for having all the fucking luck in this sorry world a tad jealous of you. Just a tad.

All that you’ve done, all that you’ve achieved – how can anyone not be impressed with you? Especially because of your humble beginnings. I mean who doesn’t know about the time when you were so broke, you had to use safety pins to keep your dress together, huh?
Where were all those top, world-class designers then, huh? When you really needed them? Valentino and Versace and Michael Kors and Austin Powers …?

You should write a book on how you did it, or how do it. Reveal everything, keep nothing back so that well deserving, down-on-their-luck women, (like Jennifer Anniston) can take a page/pages out of your book and get their shit together.

Or you should co-author a book with me somebody sassy and fresh.

So, Liz, my gran says that you should keep doing what you do, and with regards to Hugh, sometimes it takes a little divine intervention to get things moving in the direction they are meant to move in. (She winked when she said that. Either that or her cataracts are playing up again.)

Stay beautiful and perfect!

Your number one and number two number three fans for life.

Eve Rabi and Gran

PS: Tell Warnie my gran said that he looked great in that blue cashmere sweater. But if he could drape it around his shoulders then knot it up in front, she might consider fucking him asking for his autograph the next time she bumps into him at the pharmacy. (She winked when she said that.)

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=eve+rabi

Viagra, Viagra, wherefore art thou?

everabi — Wed, 20 Mar 2013 11:21:43 +0000

Dear Viagra, it’s Eve Rabi. How you doing?

Waddayamean Eve who?

You’ve been emailing me for the last umpteen years offering me huge discounts for value packs of Viagra, remember? The bulk purchases, no script needed, sometimes postage included even, huh? Even though I never needed or wanted you? Ring a bell, Viagra?

It does? Good. Cos, see, I’ve been thinkin’ – since I spent so many precious hours of my life deleting email after email from you, and emptying my spam folder several times a day, not to mention the $$$ I spent amping up my FUCKING spam filters so that I stop getting a tsunami of Viagra emails every two hours, I think t’s only fair that you to help me now. (Sorry for my outburst, Viagra, just opened up old wounds. Won’t happen again. Smiley face)

See I’ve written fourteen books and I figure that if I want to make as much dough and become crazy famous as those chicks – J.K. Rowling, Stephanie Meyer and E.L James, then I gotta do some serious marketing shit for my books. You feel me, Viagra?

So, I’m askin’ nicely; can you please put me in touch with the same company who markets you? Maybe even put in a good word for me so that I, like you, become a household name? Tell them how awesome I am, my books are? (Just between you and me, I’m open for some heavy-duty spamming. Seriously.)

Soooo, whachusay?

You will? Aw thank you, Viagra. I am so excited at the prospect of becoming stinkin’ rich!

I will now sign off and put in an on-line order for a red Ferrari (what other color?) with a built in make-up compartment, a mirrored dashboard, a mirrored steering wheel, and a hair straightener thingi.

Then, after I screenshot my order for my flashy ride, I will tweet it, Facebook it, blog it, pintrest it, etc., etc., to make all my friends, enemies and frenemies leaf-green with envy. (Shivering with excitement at the mere thought of it.)

Smiles to you and keep doing what you’re doing, cos your discounts on value packs are awesome, man!

Peace up and remember …stay firm and upright in the face of adversity! (Wink wink!)

Eve Rabi