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Blog gripping entertaining read

Scarlett’s unfair, underhanded and downright shameless tips to getting
or marrying the man with money
(based on the book, The Other Woman by Eve Rabi)

Warning: This is no dating manual. It is not for the woman seeking to charm a man in the hopes of commitment or a lasting relationship. No, no, no; it is for the woman wanting more. Much more.
It is a book for the girl Madonna talked about – the material girl, the gold digger who wants to line her pockets with the money of the man she spends her time on.

Like the title says, my tips on seducing such men are downright underhanded and shifty, and I make no apologies for it, none whatsoever, so enter at your own risk.
What I do make, is a promise that after reading this manual, you will change the way you think about men, the way you view your future. With these tips, you will learn to go after what you want, what will benefit you in the long run. Who … will benefit you in the long run.

After which, you will go on to triumph over women who you once believed were more attractive than you were; women you’ve mistakenly believed were your competitors.
In this book you will learn, among other things:

  1. how to embrace your inner gold digger
  2. how to acquire the mindset of a gold digger and fatten up your bank balance
  3. how to acquire the mindset of a business woman when it comes to dating and spending time with men
  4. how to pick up wealthy men
  5. where to pick up wealthy men
  6. how to secure the attention of a wealthy man in a roomful of attractive women
  7. what to do if another gold digger comes after your man
  8. what to do if you are not born attractive, but crave the lifestyle of Kim Kardashian.

Yes, after reading this manual, which is a work of fiction, you will be a changed woman. You will be craftier, sneakier, ruthless even, but you will also have a bigger bank balance. No more dating losers with nothing to offer you.

Warning (another warning, that’s right): This book will never be part of Oprah’s book club, for it will be deemed immoral, depraved and corrupt by Winfrey’s club. They are right – what can I say? I make no apologies, remember?

Warning (yes, this book is full of goddamn warnings): This not the kind of book your mother would like you to read, for it has strong language, sexual references and adult themes. However, read it anyway, for when you rock up at her door in a limousine, bearing diamonds and gold, she will pat herself on the back and say to herself, “I raised that child right.”



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Blog Eve Rabi 15 July 17



The GOLD DIGGER’S Guide to Seduction – A book (Fiction) by Eve Rabi

Cover man in front black and gold 3 MEDIUM.jpg

Book 9 in the Girl on Fire Series 

Warning: This book will never make it into Oprah’s Book Club!


“Don’t bother trying to be an angel. The only angel men want to
fuck is Victoria’s.” Scarlett Smyth-Murdoch-Callan


“Scarlett has gone too far. These tips aren’t just underhanded; they’re immoral. However, if I had to live my youth again, I would have done so much better had I read this book.” Beta Reader


Release date: July 2017


Facebook sabotage 4 7 april 16 3Click on image to read more 


Eve Rabi is the author of 28 crime and suspense novels, five screenplays and more than half a dozen short stories. Inspired by the likes of Sidney Sheldon and Gillian Flynn, her tales are bold, scandalous, controversial. They’re also peppered with romance and humor. To quote an Amazon reviewer: “When you pick up an Eve Rabi book, forget sleep. She writes gripping page turners that will keep you reading till the very end.”
In her spare time, Eve likes to dance like no one is watching. In fact, she also likes to eat like no one is watching.
For more of Eve Rabi’s works, click on any of the links below:
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The Whisper of Temptation – Now Available for Purchase on Amazon!

Beautiful blonde girl on beach, summertimeClick on image to read more

My confused head goes to war with my equally confused heart.

Head: You’ve imagined it all. He isn’t the type to cheat on his wife with another woman. He loves his wife – he’s told you so, remember? You’ve read more into it than you should have.

Heart: But … but … we did kiss?

Head: The kiss was not something you both wanted. It was purely because of circumstances. You were forced to. He was forced to kiss you.

Heart: Forced? No, he wasn’t! He was tender and –

Head: FYI, you kissed once that night. One deep kiss that counts as a real kiss and only at the venue, not after that. All those little pecks, they mean nothing. Be smart about it now. 

Heart: Okay, sure, you’re right. But wait, what about the spooning?

Head: Well, there was only one bed and you both were tired. None of you wanted to sleep on the tiny chairs. Nothing significant about your spooning. You are making mountains of out molehills. Stop acting like a teenager, will you?  He’s asking you to stop, saying that he’s not that strong. Do as he asks. Make it easy for him to be a decent man.

Head: But he’s said that he loves her and he waited three years for her. He is strong. Why does he say he’s not strong?

Head: He’s talking temptation. You are a whisper of temptation in his ear, and he admits he, like most men, he’s vulnerable. You don’t want to be known as a cheat, a homewrecker, because that’s what it comes down to – he’s a married man, your friend’s husband. Your friend who is vulnerable and needy too. Both of them are vulnerable. Don’t take advantage of the situation.

Heart: I’m not, I’m not. It’s … all of it is just happening. It’s predictable even – he’s lonely, I’m lonely … But you’re right, I will stop. I never want to be the kind of woman who takes advantage of a situation. Never. No matter how much I want it.

Head: Good. Now you’re being sensible. You’ve always been sensible. That’s your strength, remember? Stay that way.

My head, scolding, scalding and sensible that it is, wins. My heart tucks in its tail, slinks away in a corner and licks its wounds.

Sensible. What a word. What a bland, boring, cautious word. Sensible.

Put that on my tombstone – She was known for always doing the right thing, for being … sensible.

Never let it be said that she was spontaneous, impulsive reckless and daring. Never let it be said that she followed her heart because … she dared to.


Eve Rabi is the author of 27 crime and suspense novels, three screenplays and more than half a dozen short stories.
Inspired by the likes of Sidney Sheldon and Gillian Flynn, her tales are bold, scandalous, controversial. They’re also peppered with romance and humor.
To quote an Amazon reviewer: “When you pick up an Eve Rabi book, forget sleep. She writes gripping page turners that will keep you reading till the very end.”
In her spare time, Eve likes to dance like no one is watching.
In fact, she also likes to eat like no one is watching.

For more of Eve Rabi’s works, click on any of the links below:

Twitter –
Pinterest –
Google + –
Amazon U.K.:

Facebook sabotage 4 7 april 16 3



The Whisper of Temptation – Teaser 2 (Book 8 in the Girl on Fire Series)

Beautiful blonde girl on beach, summertime

(NB: This is the second teaser in this book. The first was released on
06 June 2017. Please read that first)


You are never going to believe this, but guess what? Rival MacBitch has emailed me. Well, she emailed Clover, not me. Probably to defend her sister-in-law, Arena. Probably to blast me for my ‘harshness.’ Let’s see what the slut has to say, shall we?

From: Rival MacMillan
Sent: Friday, 4 June 2016, 11: 25 AM
To: Clover Callan
Subject: Rival and the Gang

Hello there, Clover. We all in Sydney were talking about you and Pastor Colin. Just wondering how you both were doing in your new home. Is everything okay? Where about are you? Are you settling in? Do you miss Sydney? Are you pining for the UK? Where are you guys located? So many questions, lol!
Keep in touch. Would love to hear from you.
Regards to Pastor Colin.

Rival (Smiley face)
PS: Would love to visit you sometimes.

 Well, well, well! What do you know? Arena hasn’t told Rival about my lambasting email? Isn’t that interesting?
The question is: why? Maybe they no longer speak due to some petty family squabble?Maybe they no longer speak due to some major, irreparable family feud that will span generations?
Maybe … Arena is so ashamed at my chastising and accusations, because they ring true, that she refuses to share my email with her sister-in-law? A girl can hope, now, can’t she?

Well, whatever the reason, Rival MacBitch has walked right into the lion’s den. This whacko stole my book and passed it off as her own, remember? It’s time for payback – watch me kill two angry birds with one stone – mow down this slag and stir up trouble between Arena and her. This is going to be interesting, let me tell you. You might want to mix yourself a pitcher of tea. I’m talking Long Island Iced Tea of course. (Generous helpings of tequilavodkalight rumtriple secgin, with a mere splash of Diet Coke. Every alcoholic has their own variant to this recipe, so feel free to stray from the norm and change the recipe to suit your alcoholism.) Go on, go fetch your tea; I’ll wait for you.

Ready? Let’s go girls!

From: Clover Callan <>
Sent: Friday 4 June, 5:26 PM
To: Rival MacMillan
Subject: Rival and the GangBangers

(Rival and the gangBangers! Mwahahaha!)

Dear Rival, funny you should write. My husband and I were just discussing you, when your email popped into my inbox. Yes, Pastor Colin and I have settled into our new home and we are very happy in it. Do I miss Sydney? No, I do not miss Sydney, neither am I pining for the UK. The moment we arrived here, we felt like we belonged. Moving away from Sydney was the best thing we could have done.
Keep in touch, you say? Well, that might pose a problem. Perhaps I should explain. You see, Rival, Pastor Colin and I have read one of your books. Finally. It was given to us by your sister-in-law, Arena. She begged us to read it, in the hopes that we saw what she saw – i.e. a sad soul in need of urgent help. She hoped that after reading your book, we would encourage and assist you to get the necessary help you so badly require.  

First, it was a struggle to get into your book, because of the dark, and almost taboo-like subject matter. Then, it was a struggle to finish it, because, let’s just say (please don’t take this the wrong way) the fractured writing style, coupled with what some people would call sick, deplorable and vitriolic ramblings (some people, not me, I understand that it was you expressing yourself in an ‘artistic’ manner), was a challenge, to say the least.
However, as I believe in finishing what I start, I soldiered on until I reached the end of your book.
My conclusion? Well, please forgive me if I come across as blunt, because there is no other way to say this, Rival – Pastor and I have discussed your book, and we have come to the conclusion that Arena was right – you must seek urgent professional help, Rival. See a therapist immediately, Rival, a psychiatrist at that. On an ongoing basis, too. We believe that your psychiatrist will be most interested in your bizarre and noir ‘art’. We suspect he may want to study both you and your ‘art’.

I urge you to be open, and forthcoming and expose that Jekyll and Hyde personality of yours, Rival. In order for him to really help you, drill deep down into your psyche, honesty on your part would be imperative. Your psychiatrist would have to see through that librarian, Laura Ashley exterior you present to those in your sphere of influence, and confront that desperate, derelict, crack-whore side of your personality surfacing in your ‘art.’

(How am I doing thus far? Good? Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying my slaughtering of Rival. Now, there’s more passive aggression in store for Rival, so keep sipping on that tea of yours. And remember, be like the British – crook that little finger of yours when you drink your tea. It’s classy. Ignore those who claim that sticking out your pinky is rude and connotes elitism. They’re just jealous of the British, because the pound is mightier than the dollar, trust me. That, and the fact that the British have Adele.)

Pastor Colin and I fear that your ‘art’ may have a negative impact on your family members – for example; how does Ritchie face his work colleagues, clients and friends after they have been exposed to, as Arena calls it, your ‘sordid art’?
Your children, Rival – how do they manage to keep their friends and remain socially active after the parents of said friends discover this dark side of you, their mother? Your children’s school teachers and tutors – how do they perceive your children now that they have been exposed to your ‘creative’ side’, Rival?
Pastor and I, together with Arena and Bear, genuinely worry (and pray) for your family, fearing that they, unbeknownst to you, are secretly embarrassed and ashamed of your writing. We worry that your family exists in a constant state of despair and humiliation over your published works.
Think about it; your daughters – little darlings that they are, they’re probably haunted by your public arrest over the murder of their beloved father. Throw, what some people may call your depraved ‘art’ (not me, I repeat, I understand that it is not depraved, but just you expressing yourself) into the mix, and what do they get? That’s right, several extra helpings of mortification.

As leaders in the church, and in our community, it might be best for all if we keep a certain distance from you. We have a reputation to maintain, our church has a reputation to maintain and it is imperative that we lead by example. Since you are judged by the company you keep, we simply cannot afford to be visited, or be seen visiting an ‘artist’ like yourself.

Please, if I come across as blunt and cruel, do not be angry at me, Rival, for I come from a place of love and spirituality. Why? Because I care deeply about you and your precious family, that’s why. Even your sister-in-law, Arena – I can very well understand if you perceive her as meddling, jealous and a backstabber. If you decide to sever all ties with her because you feel betrayed by her seemingly underhanded actions. However, Rival, I must point out that I for one, believe that Arena has nothing but immense love for you and your family. She just cares, that’s all. Perhaps a little too much, but she too comes from a place of love.

Pastor Colin and I, together with Arena and her husband, will be praying for you and your family, Rival. Even though we will cease all contact with you, you will be forever in our thoughts.

Love to your husband and wonderful children.


Clover Callan (Smiley face)

How did I do? Fantastic, you say? But of course!
You can be assured, Rival will be fuming when she reads this email. She will be confused with my accusations and she may discuss it with Ritchie. He may be equally confused, then declare that his sister is nothing like that. He may accuse me, or Clover Callan of making trouble between the two families. Rival may agree with her husband. He may suggest they have a chat with Arena and Bear about it, clear the air – “That’s always the best way to handle this type of conflict,” he may say. Rival may agree.
They may all end up seated at a table and duke it out over husband-sized helpings of Boboti and curry. Over whisky and wine and white port, they may reiterate how much they all love each other and how they have each other’s back. Bear might remind Rival that Arena helped her when she escaped the lunatic asylum (well, not escaped, but let’s pretend she did for impact purposes) Rival will nod and express that she will be forever grateful to Arena for being there when no one else was. Arena and Rival might shed a few tears and hug it out.

Yes, they may eventually accept each other’s explanation/ apologies, have more drinks, bear-hug the fuck out of each other during their drunken goodbyes, and take turns expressing how glad they are to clear that air.
However, those birdseeds of doubt … they have been sown into Rival’s hardly-used brain by Clover Callan. Long after the vino and port has expired from her system, Rival will stare at the ceiling in the dark and mull over the email. Soon, doubts will fester in her mind and she will find herself being cautious and guarded around her sister-in-law. (What if Clover Callan was telling the truth? What if Arena really is two-faced and underhanded, a backstabber who is out to sabotage me? After all, Arena was always quick to talk about my success as an author to everyone we meet. Was it all just a show? A ruse to set me up for failure? Was Arena in fact quietly jealous of me? I’m so confused.)
Well, that’s what I believe will happen once she receives my scathing and contemptuous email. Well, not mine, but Clover Callan’s. One thing you can be certain off; the relationship between Clover and Rival is … history!
Cool, huh?
Well, I expect a lengthy email in return from her.
How’s that tea going? Still brewing? Good.


Rival MacBitch has replied. Let’s check out her response, shall we? Should be interesting. Got your tea? A pitcher of it? Good.

From: Rival MacMillan
Sent: Friday, 5 June 2016, 06:03 AM
To: Clover Callan
Subject: Rival and the gangbangers

Congratulations, Clover! You are right; my book was written by a depraved, lost soul who was not fortunate enough to experience lasting love and contentment. She lived her whole life marinating in disappointment and coveting what others had. You know what, Clover? She reminds me so much of you.
Take care.
Rival and the gangbangers (Smiley face)

That’s it? You cannot be serious. And here I have this giant pitcher of tea in anticipation of her lengthy email. Oh, well, best not to let good tea to go to waste. Hold on a minute while I take a sip. That was delicious and refreshing.
Anyway, don’t worry, from now onward, whenever Arena mentions Rival’s success as an author, Rival will stiffen and listen carefully to her words. Then, she will post-mortem all that Arena has said, screening her own words for underlying hostility, jealously and ambiguity.
Arena will sense that, and soon, she will no longer mention Rival’s success as an author. Rival will have a problem with that too – why has Arena stopped talking about my success as an author? Is she no longer proud of me? Is she talking behind my back?

The tension between these women will have a ripple effect. Bear and Ritchie, they work together, remember? Friction will form between the two husbands. Irritability and anger will lurk beneath the surface, ready to rear their ugly heads. The men will snap and argue over trivial things, and soon, work will be as unpleasant and tense home. All because of the suspicion and doubt engineered by Clover Callan.
Nothing will be the same, because of …? That’s right, moi!
A round of applause, please!




Beautiful blonde girl on beach, summertime

Release Date: 01 July 2017



0641 (2)

My editor, Missy (short for ‘Mistake’), taking a power nap between programs 🙂


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“Lock out your husband, put out your pets, order take-out for dinner even, because once you start reading this book, you won’t want to be interrupted, trust me.” Amazon reviewer


A mild-mannered wife awakes one day to find that she has been replaced by a cunning seductress.
Helplessly, she watches the other woman help herself to her husband, her children and her life.
Then one day, she snaps. With nothing to lose, she sets out to destroy the other woman and win back her family.
Her techniques are dirty and underhanded, causing untold misery to her nemeses, rocking the foundations of her ex-husband’s new marriage.
Trouble is, the other woman does not believe in losing and has no intention of backing down. The wife and mistress collide, and mayhem and murder follow.


If you’ve enjoyed Gone Girl, HBO’s The Affair, Fatal Attraction and Big Little Lies, you will enjoy this fast-paced, action-packed thriller about revenge and retribution.


A #RomanticCrime #RomanticSuspense novel about #love #lust and #revenge. Big revenge. Huge!

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The Whisper of Temptation -Teaser 1

Beautiful blonde girl on beach, summertime

Book 8 in The Girl on Fire Series coming soon!


Teaser 1

Well, well, well! Look what we have here. An email from Arena Shaw to Clover. Remember Arena, the uptight, holier-than-thou bitch who turned down my friendship because of her loyalty to her sister-in-law, Rival MacBitch? The Arena Shaw who spent time in prison because of child neglect? (Arena ShawShank Redemption.) That Arena. I can’t wait to read what she has to say to Clover. It’s like I’m spying on them – delicious! If this is how it feels to be a peeping tom, then I can understand why some of those sickos are prepared to go to jail for peeping. It’s quite a thrill. Anyway, let’s see what Arena ShawShank has to say, shall we?

From: Arena Shaw <>
Sent: Friday 30/06/16, 10:58 AM
To: Clover Callan <
Subject: Hi from Arena Shaw

Hi, Clover. (Smiley face) It’s been awhile since we chatted. I’ve texted you several times, but I got no reply. When I called your number, I got a disconnected message. Now I’m really concerned. Are you okay, Clover? Is Pastor Colin okay? How is your new home? Did the move go smoothly? Was the trip okay? Made any new friends? If you did, that’s just great, but please don’t forget your friends in Sydney. (Smiley face) Let us know that you’re okay, and please, keep in touch. You and Pastor Colin are always in our thoughts. (Smiley face)
Arena (Smiley face)

Four smiley faces in one paragraph. Mm. So ShawShank wants Clover to keep in touch and continue their friendship? Well, I’ve got news for her – that’s not going to happen. Now, watch how Clover reduces this snooty bitch in the sweetest of ways. Well, maybe not in the sweetest of ways, but … it’s going to be entertaining, trust me.

From: Clover Callan <>
Sent: Friday, 30/06/16 11:55 AM.
To: Arena Shaw <>
 Hi from Arena ShawShawShank

Dear Arena ShawShank,

My move went really well. Pastor Colin is well, very happy, and loving our new home. We’ve made some great friends here. Classy, sincere, responsible folk who display the kind of values we appreciate – among others, integrity, decency and honesty, qualities we’ve failed to find in Sydney. Alas!
I have changed my phone number, hence you weren’t able to reach me. Deliberately.
I will explain why. There is no easy way to say this, Arena, and since I am a busy person with important things to do, I’m going to just blurt it out. Pastor Colin and I have decided to terminate our friendship with you. You have heard right, Arena – we are simply unable to continue being friends with you and Bear and wish to sever all ties with you.
You see, after we heard about your baby, and how you abandoned her in a boiling car, causing her to die a slow, painful and torturous death, we were utterly appalled and seriously sickened.
How can you expect us to be friends with a murderer? A murdering mother, at that?
How anyone can do that to a child, let alone its own mother, is simply beyond us.
How a negligent, heartless mother can be allowed to keep her other children, and even be allowed to give birth to a third child, leaves us baffled. Leaves us questioning the system – why isn’t it protecting children from the likes of you?

With regards to WIN; it is highly disconcerting to know that you run an organization like this, Arena. To my husband and me, and just about everyone else (yes, people around talk about you all the time, and I’m sorry to say, it’s not in a flattering way), it is quite evident you are merely running this kind of charity organization as a ruse, to distract from the heinous crime you have committed (like the way Angelina adopted all those colourful children to distract from the fact that Brad was married when they began their affair). Some say it’s guilt that causes you to display an altruistic persona, while others vehemently disagree. They argue that sociopaths do not experience guilt. These discussions and debates, Arena, let me tell you, although distressing, are somewhat lively and interesting. Entertaining even. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not implying that they laugh about you. No, they are most concerned about your poor children.
So, as you can imagine, being friends and keeping in touch with you, is not a possibility, now or in the future.
Please do not regard this email as an attack on your persona. I am merely being honest and upfront. I would be failing in my duties as a pastor’s wife if I wasn’t.
We wish your remaining children the best of luck, as we are sure they are going to need every bit of luck with you as a mother and a role model.

Clover Callan (Smiley face) 

How did I do? Good? Of course. Take my word for it; Arena is going to be gutted by this scathing and accusing email. Let’s wait and see what her response is, shall we?

From: Arena Shaw <>
Sent: Saturday, 2/07/16, 5:05 AM
To: Clover Callan <>
Subject: Judge not, lest you be judged’

Since we are being honest and upfront, Clover, I will say, I am gobsmacked by your lack of understanding, and stupefied by your harshness. I am no Christian, but I understand that the Bible, whose principals you profess to live by, being the devout Christian you portray, clearly cautions about judging. You should look up that scripture sometimes, perhaps you have missed it?
Sadly, you have changed, Clover. It’s almost like I am speaking to another person, someone embittered by loss and disappointment. Someone hostile, and seething with resent. An unfulfilled, hollow soul, angry at the world and thirsting for vengeance. It’s all so confusing to me, the change in your personality and the blatant accusations when you know so little about me. However, adhering to another Biblical scripture – “Don’t give what is holy to the dogs, nor throw your pearls before swine,” I chose not to explain myself, not to spend any more time on this subject and will end this conversation here.
I wish your new-found friends the best of luck, as I believe from first-hand experience, they are going to need it in a little while.
PS: ShawShank? I don’t get it.

Mm. Let me count the smiley faces. Nada. Not a single one. Four paragraphs and not a single smiley face. Mm.
I expected a lengthy lament in response, an essay of heartfelt explanations, but, I all I got is a brief and dismissive email alluding to me being a dog. A bitch. Woof.
Well, I take comfort in the fact that my words have sliced through that hardened heart of hers, slashed at her self-confidence and had her scouring her Bible, which is the internet, of course, for Biblical verses to fire back. She may act cool and unperturbed, but make no mistake, my words, especially, ‘yes, people around talk about you all the time, and I’m sorry to say, it’s not in a flattering way,’ will cause her to regard peers, family and friends with quiet and not so quiet distrust. They will cause her sleepless night and pursed lips.
Don’t believe me? Well, take a look at the time she fired back. 5:05 AM. That’s right, she’s at her laptop in the middle of winter, on a Saturday morning, emailing me at such a dank hour. ShawShank has probably not got her eight hours of beauty sleep last night. Expect her mood to be similar to that of this winter’s day – grey, cloudy and with the threat of tears.
Poor Arena ShawShank – not only have I abruptly ended her friendship with the dreary Clover Callan, I have stirred up painful memories that she has probably stowed away in the attic of her mind, with absolutely no intention of revisiting and reliving. I have robbed her of her peace of mind and, and she will never know who to trust again. All through one vengeful email. Can I get an amen!?

Cassie and the Whisper of Temptation

The Other Woman, a scandalous read about love, lust and revenge!
Click on the link below to read it:

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The Whisper of TEMPTATION – Book 8 in the Girl on Fire Series

Beautiful blonde girl on beach, summertime

Remember: hearing is thought to be the last sense to
go in the dying process, so never assume the person
unable to hear you. Talk as if they can hear you,|even if
they appear to 
be unconscious or restless.” (Unknown) 

 Fingers press firmly but gently against my wrist. “Well, I have a pulse. Feeble, but it’s there.”
“Whew! That’s a relief, doc. Whew!”
“So … what happened here, Davo?”
“Know my sister Liz, doc?”
“Yeah, yeah…?”
“Well, she’s got this boy, Johno, big as an ox, strong too, but he’s like, not all there in the head. Bit of a weirdo. Doesn’t leave the house much. But at night, he goes walkabout with this metal detector thing, combs the place for treasure.”
“Combing this place for treasure?” Chuckles. “Right!”
“Yeah, well, he does. Anyway, he tells Liz, ‘Mum, I got me a new pet.’ Liz goes to check it out, comes out screaming, ‘She’s dead! She’s dead!’ Screams for me. Asks me to get rid of the body. The corpse. Okay, I think, I gotta do something here. But when I see this … this … this thing – shit doc, she looks like she was from a horror movie. Covered in…I dunno – dirt and blood. Even her hair, blood and dirt, her mouth – blood and dirt. So, I check her pulse, I dunno why, but I check it, and I feel something. Faint, but it’s there. I’m gobsmacked. What do I do? Can’t call the cops – the boy will be arrested. So, I heard that you used to be a doctor a long time ago and all that. That’s why I called you, hoping you can, like help us with her. But we gotta keep this quiet? You know what I mean?”
“Mm. She needs a hospital, though. She’s probably not going to survive, Davo. The boy’s done a good job on her, alright.”
“Yeah … I was hoping you can fix her up here. There’ll be too many questions if we take her to the hospital. Know what I mean?”
“Mm. But … what is she doing around here?”
“Dunno. Reckon she some sort of backpacker. Some foreigner. Exploring, got drunk, got lost …”
“You find any ID on her?”
“Nah, nothing. Just her. No bags, no camera, no nothing. Liz think she’s from some boat. Some illegal. Refugee. The place is crawling with boat people.”
“Reckon we can fix her?”
“Gotta take a proper look, Davo.” I get a whiff of stale beer on my face. “How long has she been here?”
“Not sure, doc. Liz discovered her this morning and I called you right away.”
“Pretty banged up, she is. Looks like Johno tried to slit her throat.”
“Shit! Bloody boy is nuts. Should be in the madhouse. I warned my sister about him, but she don’t never listen. Now look what’s happened.”
“Mm. Got a good few blows to the head too. Must have used a knife or something.”
“Shit! Shit! Shit! That kid …man…”
“Yeah …”
There is a long silence as the hand probes my body, causing me to wince from the pain.
“So … what you think?
Another silence before the man with the beer breath speaks. “Davo, I’ll do my best for … what do you call her again?”
“Love.” A short chuckle.
“Yep, that’s what Johno named her. Named his pet, doc. His pet.”
A short chuckle from the man with the beer breath. “It’s going to take a while to fix her. Plenty stitches all around, shave her head…”
“Truth be told, she’s probably not going to make it.”
“Yes. All you can do is make her comfortable, do what you can and hope for the best in cases like these.”
“Yep. I’ll do my best, though. Can’t guarantee anything. You understand?”
“Yeah, sure I understand. Sure.”
“Gotta any grog? This sure is thirsty work.”
“Yeah. Been brewing heaps of it.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Oh yeah. Heaps, doc!”
“Good. Run along and fetch me some, then.”
A short while later, I get a fresh blast of booze on my face, before something sharp pieces into me,  again and again. I scream in agony, yet not a sound escapes my lips. Why?
“She’s moving. Hold onto her, Davo. Gotta stitch her up.”
“Okay, got it, doc.” My arms are held down tightly as the piercing continues.
The pain is so intense, I drift in and out of consciousness. The thing that remains throughout this ordeal is my hearing. I hear every word they say.
“See what your boy’s done, Liz?”
“She’s got no business being here in the first place, Davo. No business at all.” The woman’s voice is mature and nervous. “This is private property. She got no business being here, unless … she wanted to steal something and –”
“Steal something? Here? Like what, Liz, what? Look ’round you. This place is a dump. Nothing to steal here. Nothing.”
“Well …”
“Bottom line, Liz – the boy, he’s dangerous. He tried to kill her, then he brought the body here to like, finish her off. Slice her up and who know – maybe eat her.”
“Aw, shaddup, Davo. Johno’s not going to eat her up.”
“Liz, I’m telling ya over and over again – your boy, you gotta get him some help, man.”
“You did that Johno? You tried to kill the girl? Huh? You did what Davo say you do?”
“No, mum, I find her like that,” another voice says. A younger voice, more like that of a boy. “I find her in the dark, mum. Her phone, it make ring! Ring! and I hear it, mum. I put my metal detector on the ground and it go beep! Beep! Beep! I hear it mum.”
“That’s a lie, boy! She doesn’t have a phone. Where’s the phone? Huh?”
“See?  There’s no phone, boy. You killed—”
“Shh! Davo, I’ll handle him, okay? I know my boy – he’s harmless. Wouldn’t even kill a cockroach.”
“Oh, please!”
“He’s my boy and I will handle him, not you. Johno, I need you to tell me the truth, son, did you hurt this … this …?”
“Her name is Love, Mum. She my pet. Where’s her hair, mum? What you do with all her hair?”
“I’m telling ya, Liz; better do something or they are going to lock him up forever.”
“Johno, son, listen to me, you have to be honest with me, tell me everything, the truth, now, okay?”
“Okay, Johno?”
“I hear her phone mum. I dig and dig and dig and I find them.”
“Yeah, mum.”
“Two women? Did you find two women?”
“Nah. Love and a man, mum.”
“A man? Where’s the man now, son?”
“He crawl away mum. He’s gone in the dark. He’s scary, mum. But Love, she not scary, so I bring her here. I wash her face, mum. Look.”
“He killed the man, Liz. He killed him and he’s lying about taking care of Love.”
“Is true. I take care of my pet. I feed it water and I give it a blanket. Keep it warm. And sometimes I sing happy birthday to it.”
I hear a long sigh.
“Okay, okay. I’ll take him in tomorrow. In the meantime, just see what the doc can do for her. If she dies while I’m gone, bury her on the hill and put some leaves over her grave.”
“Fine. Just take him away before you we all end up in jail because of him.”|
“Yeah, yeah. And keep the shotgun close. That man who crawled out of the grave, he might come back looking for Love. Don’t know what’s gonna happen then.”

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7 ‘Sensitive’ Men Reveal What They’ve Done to Their Wedding Photos After Their Marriage Dissolved

7 ‘Sensitive’ Men Reveal What They’ve Done to Their Wedding Photos After Their Marriage Dissolved

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Ever wondered what men do to their wedding photos once the marriage is over? I’ve interviewed 7 men regarding this question and here’s what they had to say (names have been changed to protect the guilty):


1. John

John: “I’ve thrown all the photos in the garbage bin.”

Eve Rabi: “You mean in the recycling bin? The paper bin?”

John: Nope. “She was garbage; she didn’t deserve any form of recycling.”

Eve Rabi: “Let me guess – she cheated on you?”

John: “No, I cheated on her.”

Eve Rabi: “You cheated on her and you’re calling her garbage?”

John: “Yup. With her best friend too.”

Eve Rabi: “Christ, John, you are nuts.”

John: “That’s what everyone says.”


2. David

David: “I accidentally got a box of wedding pics when we split up. Six months later she wanted them. I thought sweet, she obviously wants to hang onto the memories. It not so easy to get over me, eh? But then she said, ‘I want to show my new guy how thin I was when we got married.”

Eve Rabi: “Oh, that must have been disappointing to you.”

David: “Nah. I sent them back to her.”

Eve Rabi: “That mighty big of you, David.”

David: “After I sprinkled apple juice all over her in the photos.”

Eve Rabi: “You did not!”

David: “I sure did. And it felt damn good.”


3. Daniel

Daniel: “Why do you want to know?”

Eve Rabi: “For my blog. I won’t mention your name.”

Daniel: “How much am I going to get paid for that kind of info?”

Eve Rabi: “Ten beer nuts.”

Daniel: “Piss off.”


4. Vonny

Vonny: “I have most of them with me because she moved into an apartment and had little space.”

Eve Rabi: “Oh okay.”

Vonny: “But the best ones are damaged now.”

Eve Rabi: “How?”

Vonny: “After she left, I used to look at them and cry. My tears, they ruined the best ones.”

Eve Rabi: “Poor Vonny. It’s great to find a sensitive guy.”

Vonny: “Yeah. Can I get a hug?”

Eve Rabi: “Eh…no.”


5. Eric

Eric: “I’ve given them up for safekeeping. Thought I’ll save them for when our kids grow up. They will want to see how their mum and dad looked in their heyday, right?”

Eve Rabi: “That’s sweet. Where are the photos?”

Eric: “At me mum’s.”

Eve Rabi: “But Eric, didn’t your mum die a couple months ago?”

Eric: “Yeah.”

Eve Rabi: “And didn’t you pay someone to dump everything in her house?”

Eric: “Oh, shit, I forgot about that. Hey, you have some memory.”

Eve Rabi: “You’re a liar Eric.”

Eric: “And? Your point is?”


6. Richard

Richard: “Oh, I have them all over my place.”

Eve Rabi: “That’s refreshing. Why? Your marriage is over, right?”

Richard: “Yeah, but I got hair in those pics. Not like now.”

Eve Rabi: “I see. Kind of vain, isn’t it?”

Richard: “You’re a fine one to talk considering the tonne of make-up you’re wearing.”

Eve Rabi: “Make-up? Tons? What make-up? I woke up like this.”

Richard: “Bullshit!”

Eve Rabi: “Seriously, I woke up like this.”


7. Chris

Chris: “My new girlfriend tore them up.”

Eve Rabi: “She did not.”

Chris: “Oh, yeah. She was so jealous. But I got back at her. I dumped her iPhone into a glass of beer.”

Eve Rabi: “You did not!”

Chris: “Then I called the cops on her.”

Eve Rabi: “You did not!”

Chris : “You say that a lot, don’t ya?”

Eve Rabi: “Say what?”

Chris: “‘You did not.’”

Eve Rabi: “Mm.”


And there it is folks. 7 sensitive men open their hearts out to us about their wedding photos.

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Eve Rabi
is the best-selling author of 26 romantic crime novels. If you’re bored with vanilla reads, if you long for bold, scandalous, controversial yet romantic stories, you will enjoy reading books by an author who dares to go there. To quote an Amazon reviewer: “When you pick up an Eve Rabi book, forget sleep. She writes gripping page turners that will keep you reading till the very end.”
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Lead us into TEMPTATION (Malice)

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