Blog Archives

Ashes of Temptation – Cover Reveal – a book by Eve Rabi (2nd Debut)

          

 

 

 

 

Coming soon!

I do believe that some of you couldn’t access this post, so if you haven’t been able to, here it is again!

An Excerpt from Ruins of Temptation
(Already published)

A shirtless Drover gets out of bed and stumbles downstairs, throws open the door and balks at

the sight of Colin on his doorstep, roses and teddy bears in hand.

At the sight of attorney Phillip Sterling, Colin’s smile dips. This is the man who pulled a dirty on

him. Not his favorite person.

“I think I have the wrong house,” Colin mumbles as he backs away. “Apologies.” He turns and walks down the footpath.

From the car, Milton sees the shirtless Phillip Sterling at the door. He knows Phillip – he’s the man who put his daughter away in prison. Not his favorite person either. What the hell? Maybe we have the wrong address.

“Wait!” Drover calls.

Colin stops and turns around.

“Why are you out of prison?”

“Look it up if you want to know,” Colin says in an abrupt voice, then turns to continue walking.

“Callan!”

With a sigh, Colin stops and turns around. “What do you want, Sterling? I don’t have time.”

“Wait!” Drover says. “Just a moment. Are you looking for …?”

“I’m looking for my wife. Clover Callan, remember her? My daughters? My family? Clearly, I have the wrong house.” He turns around and walks again.

“Wait! She’s here!”

Colin whirls around.

“She … this is the house,” Drover says. “She’s here.”

Colin tilts his head at Drover. “My wife is here? In this house?”

After a slight hesitation, Drover nods.

Colin squints at him. “Where?”

“Upstairs.”

Colin’s eyes sweep over Drover, taking in the fact that he is shirtless, wearing just a pair of short, looking like he’s just rolled out of bed. He turns to look at Milton, then back at Drover. “I don’t understand – is my wife living here with you?”

Drover doesn’t answer; he just stares at Colin with one hand on his head.

End of excerpt from Ruins of Temptation

The story continues in Ashes of Temptation

Excerpt from Ashes of Temptation 

Colin’s eyes flicker with confusion – if Clover is living here, if she is upstairs, why is this attorney from the public prosecutor’s office, the one who reneged on their deal, who double-crossed him and put him behind bars for seven years, shirtless and bare feet in the very same home? Colin blinks hard – Am I dreaming?

Drover blinks equally hard – how is this possible? Callan should be in prison right now – am I dreaming?

The hostility in Callan’s eyes tell him he’s may not be trapped in a bad dream after all. Drover glances upstairs, debating with himself – should he shout and warn out to Love, or go to her, whisper in her ear and bring her downstairs? He is certain Love will be equally shocked to see Colin here. Finally, he says, “Okay, look, if you wait here, I wi –”

Still clutching the two teddy bears and the bunch of roses, Colin pushes past Drover and strides into the house.

“Hey, wait in a minute!” Drover says, running after Colin.
Ignoring Drover, Colin walks around the house, sighting things that only compound his confusion – Eden’s rocking horse, Angel’s favourite blanket, a portable baby cot, Clover’s discarded jacket …

He pauses to pick up Clover’s jacket and stares at it. He was with her when she bought it. She even wore it to prison when she visited him in it.

“Look, just wait here and I will call her,” Drover says, a thread of anxiousness in his voice.

After a cursory glance at Drover, Colin pauses at the foot of the stairs and look upstairs.

Drover steps in front of Colin, blocking his path. “Wait here, and –”

Ignoring Drover and adding Clover’s jacket to the roses and teddy bears in his arms, Colin side-steps Drover and takes the stairs two at a time.

“Hold on there!” Drover yells.
Colin pokes his head into the bedrooms, looking for Clover. Even though the first bedroom is empty, it is instantly recognizable as Angel’s because of the photos of him and Angel on the wall. I’m in the right house.

He walks fast into the second bedroom, where he finds Eden fast asleep. His frown softens as he stares at his daughter that he hasn’t seen in three years.

. Fighting the urge to hug his daughter, Colin turns and almost runs out of the room in search of his wife.
When he reaches the third room, the door is shut. He flings it open and looks into the face of the woman lying in bed.

Clover.

His wife.

“Colin!” Clover cries when she sees Colin in her bedroom, clutching the teddy bears, roses and her jacket. “Wha …” The words die on her lips as she looks at Drover at the doorway, his palms turned out.

“Clover?” Colin whispers.

“I … Colin … ohmygod!” is all Clover can say, before she clamps both hands across her mouth.

With a dazed expression on his face, Colin looks at Drover, at Clover, at Drover, then again at Clover. “Wha … wha … what … Clover …” He rubs his eyes with his knuckles, “Am I … dreaming?”

Clover is speechless.

Colin stands in the middle of the bedroom, Clover’s jacket still in his hand, his eyes squinting at the tell-tale signs of a couple sharing a room – Drover’s phone and wrist watch on the bedside table, along with a half-finished bottle of water and the TV remote, the rumpled bedlinen next to Clover, Drover’s t-shirt and shoes on the floor.

Colin stares at Clover and the flimsy nightdress that shows her nipples. “I must be dreaming,” he mutters, blinking hard.

“Colin, I can explain,” Clover says, as she pulls the bedcovers over her, a move that only serves to highlight her lack of modesty, her duplicity. She opens her mouth to explain, but shock and disbelief renders her mute. Under Colin’s piercing gaze, she hangs her head.

For a while no one speaks.

Drover breaks the silence. “Look, Callan –”

Colin swings around to look at Drover. “Can you do me a favour?”

After a slight hesitation, Drover shrugs.

“There’s someone at the door. Can you let him in, please?”

“Who is it?” Drover asks, reluctant to leave Clover right now.

“My parole officer. He needs to meet … my wife.”
Drover looks at Clover, glances behind him, then at Clover again.

Relieved that his parole officer is around to may serve as a buffer to the situation, Clover’s head bobs. “Go! Let him in. Please!”

Drover too is relieved. He’s seen the car parked in his driveway, so he steps out of the room, eager to bring in the parole officer.

The moment he leaves the room, Colin flings down the jacket, the roses and the teddy bears. He slams the bedroom door shut then locks it.

Clover is startled that he would lock the door. “Colin, shouldn’t we go downstairs to meet …”

The words die on her lips when she watches Colin drag a cupboard across the door. Fear bolts through when she realizes that she is now trapped in the room with Colin. With a Colin that lured Drover out of the room, then locked the door.

The moment the door locks, Drover realizes what just happened. He rushes to open the door, slams his shoulder into it, but it won’t budge. He runs to fetch a baseball bat and slams it against the door, hoping to create a hole in it. The bat breaks on the first hit.

Inside the bedroom, when he’s sure they no one can leave, and that no one can enter, Colin turns slowly to look at Clover. “Are you living with him? Are you sleeping with him?” Colin advances toward her as he speaks, his eyes hooded, his voice low and controlled. Too controlled for a man who just caught his wife in bed with another man.

The expression in his eyes is familiar – she’d seen it just before, when he tried to strangle her at the Church of Light. When he believed she was Scarlett trying to pass herself off as Love. For days after that, she slept in a locked office with a Taser at hand, for fear he would harm her.

Clover scrambles back in bed. “Colin …I can explain …”

Colin towers over her, burly and muscular, more muscular than she’s known him to be. The cords in his neck, the twitching of his jaw, the flaring of his nostrils, augments her fear.

“Hey, open this door!” Drover shouts from outside the room. “Callan!”

Ignoring the rattling of the doorknob and Drover’s banging on the door, Colin says, “Don’t explain, just answer my question – are you living … are you, my wife … are you living with Phillip Sterling?”

Clutching the bedcovers, Clover looks away. “I … I … Colin …”

“Are you sleeping with him, CLOVER? I need to hear it from you.”

Clover doesn’t answer. Instead, she looks at the door, gauging and calculating – should she make a dash for it? She is fast on her feet, sure, but what about the cupboard?

Colin suddenly lunges at her, grabs her by the hair and drags her out of bed.

Clover’s terrified scream can be heard outside the house in the still of the morning.

“I asked you a goddam question!” he says, planting her in front of him, his bulging eyes boring into hers, his breathing erratic.

When she doesn’t answer, he jerks her toward him, slamming her into his chest. “Tell me, Clover. Tell me.”

“I … Colin… you’re hurting me, Colin!” she cries, as he holds onto her hair.

Milton, who now stands outside his car, is startled by the sound of a woman’s scream.

Realizing something is wrong, he hurries into the house and toward the sound of the screams. “Oh, shit!” he says when he sees Drover slamming his shoulder against the bedroom door.

“Call the cops!” Drover says.

Milton hesitates.

“Call the cops!” Drover repeats. My phone’s inside the room!”

Milton hesitates.

“What?” Drover demands.

“He’ll go back to jail.”
“Call the FUCKING cops!” Drover shouts.

Just then Andrew and Daisy burst into the house.

“Dad!” Daisy cries. “What’s going on?”

“Andy, help me,” Drover says. “I broke the lock, but something’s against the door.”

Inside the room, a terrified Clover tries to stay calm, even though she looks into Colin’s face, puce with rage.

“When did you start this affair?”
As Clover tries to think of an answer, a whimper escapes her.

“Answer me, CLOVER!”

She doesn’t answer, because through her terror, she knows that whatever answer she gives will be unacceptable.

Colin suddenly slaps her across the face, splitting her lip. “I’m going to kill you, Clover!”

End of Excerpt for Ashes of Temptation

Coming soon!

PS: My Facebook account is still under temporary lock due to a phishing scam, so I am unable to respond to your messages on FB. Feel free to contact me via this blog, or everabi2012@hotmail.com

Fiverr promo banner the other woman March 2018 Eve Rabi

Advertisements

Ruins of Temptation by Eve Rabi – Now available on Amazon!

Cover Ruins of Temptation 6 June 2018.jpgA forbidden touch, a treacherous heart, desires that cannot be denied.

Now available on Amazon!

Amazon US:
http://a.co/dm2AVco

Amazon U.K.:
http://amzn.eu/7GM3qaz

Amazon Aus:
https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B07DWTZ4GV

#KindleUnlimited

 

Yes, we’re ahead of schedule, so download now and enjoy another instalment on Scarlett’s antics!

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

cover the other woman August 2017 MEDIUM.jpg.99 cents for a limited time!

 

The Other Woman (an epic and jaw-dropping collision between a betrayed wife and a cunning seductress),  which is available on #KindleUnlimited.
Fans of Girl on the Train and Gone Girl, The Affair, will be gripped by Eve Rabi’s riveting tale of love, lust and revenge.
#RomanticCrime #RomanticSuspense #StoriesofRevenge #VigilanteJustice #FreeonKindleUnlimited #LoveTriangles#TheOtherWoman

FRAGMENTS OF TEMPTATION – Girl on Fire Series by Eve Rabi

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Book 11 in the Girl on Fire Series is now available on Amazon.

 

Links to download this book:

 

Follow this blog to avoid missing out on the next excerpt/instalment. You’ll want to keep up with Scarlett’s karma, believe me!

This is not a stand-alone book. It is one of the books in the Girl on Fire Series.
Read The Other Woman (an epic and jaw-dropping collision between a betrayed wife and a cunning seductress),  which is available on #KindleUnlimited, Please read before you read this book. (.99 cents for a limited time!)
Fans of Girl on the Train and Gone Girl, The Affair, will love Eve Rabi’s tale of love, lust and revenge.
#RomanticCrime #RomanticSuspense #StoriesofRevenge #VigilanteJustice #FreeonKindleUnlimited #LoveTriangles#TheOtherWoman

cover the other woman August 2017 MEDIUM.jpg.99 cents for a limited time!

Wordpress promo banner the other woman 18 dec 17 Eve Rabi

.99 cents for a limited time!

 

EMBERS OF TEMPTATION by Eve Rabi (Book Release) Excerpt 2

Second Instalment Blog image 2 wordpress Wrath of Temptation 14 April 2018

SCARLETT
The question that plagues me – is Colin aware of Love the imposter’s real identity? (Well, other than where is my money, bitch?) Has Clover confessed to Colin that she has done a Lazarus and risen from the dead? If Clover has, then why hasn’t Colin approached me about it? Demanded his freedom? If Colin knows the truth, why duck and dive and keep the truth away from me? Surely he’d want to run off with his real wife and child and live as happily as Kanye and Kim? After all, this is the wife he’s spent days searching for, remember? Moping around like a pussy over her. Why is he still around? It’s not like he’s ill or something – earlier on he looked in peak shape when he was fucking my nemeses in the water. Tanned, fit and sexy – better looking that Shane the crooked cop for sure. Better looking than those Hemsworth brothers by far.
Considering the packed suitcases I found contained stuff for just Angel and Clover, considering that the documents I’ve discovered in Clover’s possession were mainly hers and Angel’s, I suspect that Colin may not know who Clover really is. In fact, as I stand in front of the window, taking swigs out of my quad-distilled, overpriced, imported vodka, I conclude that Colin has yet to discover the volunteer’s real identity.Being the gambler that I am, I’d say that Clover was probably getting around to the big reveal. Liz, with her man’s shoes, her plastic packet and her greedy self, popped up her balding head to dart a spoke Clover’s wheel of fortune, causing it to wobble. In time, I showed up and blew it to smithereens.
When I hear the chopper, I take a giant swig, then quickly put away the bottle of vodka. I rinse out my mouth with Listerine, pop a breath mint and prepare for battle. Will I be in combat with just the phoenix from the ashes, or will I be taking on both Colin and the phoenix?
Well, it’s best I prepare for my worst-case scenario, so I seek out my backup – a 9 mm. I stick it into a thigh holster. Bring it on.
From the window, I watch the helicopter hover, then slowly descend.
With folded arms, I watch Colin alight from the chopper, then help the slut out of it.
I tilt my head at the sight of Clover – it’s amazing how similar we now look. That bitch has been ’jacking my style quietly. Bit by bit, she’s been morphing into me, artfully blurring the lines in Colin’s muddled mind. Sneaky bitch. And that bikini she’s wearing – only a seductress would wear something so inappropriate. Sure, she’s wearing a beach robe, but you can still see most of her arse, half of her breasts through it. Maybe that’s why my man is holding onto her hand, despite the fact that he’s returning home to his FUCKING WIFE! With my eyes blazing and my mouth twisted in fury, I watch the cheats advance toward my house.
As if she remembers where she’s heading, that I might be watching, Clover snatches her hand out of Colin’s, her eyes darting nervously around. Hiding the affair from me, are you? Too late, I’m onto you and it’s game on!
With her head bowed, the slut walks fast, almost running ahead of Colin.
The walk of a person afraid. Terrified.
Good, be afraid. Be very afraid of your master and commander, the person you made the cardinal mistake of betraying.
As the conniving couple near the front door of my house, I prepare for battle – six deep breaths … exhale loudly. Three slow shoulder rolls, shake arms till loose, kick out legs to loosen up the muscles, exhale. I’m now ready for a punch-up of a lifetime. Watch how I handle myself. Watch carefully, for you are going to learn something here. Watch.

*****

THE OTHERS
As Clover approaches the house, her steps suddenly falter, her throat constricts, and her mouth becomes dry. This is not a house, this is a lion’s den. Above her the sky, now dark and ominous, concurs with a rumble of thunder. Colin catches up with her, and with his hand on her back, propels her forward. This time, she does not shrug him off. She needs his hand on her back. She needs him to have her back, because evil lurks ahead.
The front door is flung open with such force, both Colin and Clover cease walking.
Scarlett steps out of the house, stands on the patio and glares at the errant couple.Clover braces herself, while Colin stiffens.
“Sweetheart, what a lovely surprise!” Scarlett says, breaking into a smile and rushing up to throw her arms around Colin. “Sister Naomi and Brother Ezekiel told me how badly you wanted to surprise me with your recovery, and there I had to go and ruin it all by showing up unannounced. I wanted to spring a surprise visit on you guys and I … ruined it all.” She laughs and hugs Colin again. “My bad, my bad!”
Colin stands rigid in Scarlett’s embrace, arms dangling at his side, his eyes wide with surprise. Next to him, Clover sports a confused look.
As their shoulders slowly drop from around their ears, Clover and Colin look at each other behind Scarlett’s back. While he looks somewhat relieved, she doesn’t. Her eyes dart around for Angel. When she doesn’t see her, that feeling of dread that plagues her since Angel disappeared, once again pours into her stomach. Please let my baby be okay. Please! Please! Please!
“You look so well, I can’t believe it,” Scarlett gushes, touching Colin’s face, then stepping back and checking him out. “So tanned and fit …” She runs her hand slowly down his arms, then over his back and squeezes his butt. “Sexy, I have to say.” She laughs when he turns crimson.
Scarlett releases Colin and walks over to Clover. Clover holds her breath.
Taking Clover’s hand in both of hers, she says, “Dear Sister Love, you’ve done a … sterling job, bringing Pastor Colin to life. It’s nothing short of a miracle, a joy … a real joy.”
Clover flinches at the blast of peppermint in her face, at the choice of words (sterling, joy), and even more at her murderer’s touch.
“What you have done for Pastor Colin, Sister Love, is nothing short of a miracle. Comparable to… to … “she raises her arms to the sky, “resurrecting Lazarus from the dead. The Church of Light is ever so grateful to you. Ever since we’ve heard about Pastor Colin’s recuperation, the question on our minds are; How do we ever thank our wonderful Sister Love for doing such a … sterling job? She is such a … joy!
Clover glances at Colin. He turns out his palms, a see-I-told-you-there’s-nothing-to-worry-about look on his face.
Clover is in no way feeling reassured. Nothing the sadistic killer says or does will ever allay her anxiety, until she finds Angel and sees that she is safe. To Clover, all this is simply a strategy, a big game that the wicked woman is playing, and clearly, she is enjoying it.
“Come, let us go inside,” Scarlett says, holding firmly onto Clover’s hand.
Not knowing what to do, Clover follows Scarlett into the house, ahead of Colin.
Memories of the missing suitcases that were hidden in the back of the house, the sinister drawing on the whiteboard – the one with the child buried alive, flood her. Repulsed by evil personified, she involuntarily snatches back her hand.
Scarlett stares at her. Clover holds her gaze and the tension between the two Mrs. Callans is palpable.
Scarlett suddenly throws her arms around Clover again. Clover tenses – the last person you want to hug you is your murderer. Like scenes from the mafia movies – hug, kiss, kill.
“So happy to have you back,” Scarlett says in a spritely, voice. She follows this with a whispered warning, “Behave, if you want her back, understand? If you don’t want her to disappear. I’m not joking.”
Clover’s head lolls as her worst fears are confirmed. Awash with dread, she raises her head to look at the cold-blooded killer. Up close, her eyes glisten like diamonds, her lips are tightly fused and her nostrils flare. Clover literally feels the heat of her silent rage. Having no choice, Clover nods.
Pleased with the naked fear in Clover’s eyes, Scarlett smiles sweetly and continues her charade.

*****

SCARLETT
How did I do? Good? Of course!
Look, it isn’t easy for me to smile and feign pleasantness when I’m facing betrayal by multiple members of my household – my husband, the man I’ve given my all to – he could hoodwink me to such a degree? My staff, the trusted and loyal servants – they could have their loyalty so easily swayed by a Trojan horse-styled intruder? Then the intruder herself – a crafty, scheming manipulator who artfully stole my husband, my brat, my staff’s loyalty, my money – all my money stolen by the psychopath who is clearly after my life?
My perfect world, one that I’ve created with blood, sweat and vodka, has been rocked by a thug who needs to be strangled with a garrotte until she lies in a heap on the floor. Until a medical doctor declares her deceased. Then for added measure, I should burn her corpse. Douse it with flammable vodka, then throw a lit match on it. Watch the cremation with a bottle of overpriced champagne at hand (or two), while I wait for the fire to burn out, until all that remain are ash, charred bones and the stench of no-return. Have an AK-47 at hand in case a phoenix rises from the ashes – another added measure. Blast it to smithereens to ensure no comebacks.
Yes, that’s what needs to be done. However, I’m not doing that just yet. Why? Well, it’s all about strategy, because … the money; I have to think about the money. If I ranted and raved at the deceitful duo, hurled accusations like some cuckold wife, made threats, knifed them even, I would risk losing my money. Where would that leave me if I couldn’t get my money back? The money is of paramount importance and should be considered above all else. Therefore, a clear head is necessary. Along with an artful strategy, of course.
The situation calls for a game. Play the bitch at her own game and win. That is the most important things about games; you have to win. You must. Or, what’s the purpose of playing in the first place? Luckily, I am brilliant at games, and … I like to win. In fact, finishing second is not an option, never was. Winning is. Winning in my books is everything.
So far, I am winning. Think about it – I have the betrayers in my clutches, Colin is charmed and Angel is back in my care and out of sight, and Clover is cowering in terror like the coward she is. Now, all I have to do is implement the next step.
Impressed? Well, you ought to be. Hold your applause, though. For now.

*****

THE OTHERS
Colin looks around. “Where’s baby?”
Scarlett lets go of Clover and turns to look at Colin. “Oh, she’s gone into town with Sister Naomi, Brother Ezekiel and a few other congregation members, darling. She was so excited to see all the kids, she badgered me to allow her to go with.”
Colin frowns. “Badgered you?”
Scarlett nods. “I think she misses having kids around, Colin. Besides, I thought it would be nice to give Sister Love some time to herself.” Scarlett smiles sweetly at Clover again. “God knows she’s earned it.”
Colin concurs with a nod.
“I’m thinking, Sister Love could take the car, go visit her husband and darling children for a few days if she likes, catch up with them …” As she talks, Scarlett walks back to Colin and takes his arm. “You come with me, darling, we’ve got some … some … catching up to do.” She winks at him. Then, leaving Clover staring after them, she leads him into their bedroom and shuts the door.
Clover remains where she is. She doesn’t care about Scarlett’s lascivious wink, she doesn’t care about them being alone in the bedroom – all she cares about is her baby. Where in town is Angel?
The moment, they are out of sight, Clover hurries over to the key rack and picks out the keys to an SUV. It’s a small town, she knows that she will eventually find Angel. Then she will run. Just get into the SUV with Angel and drive. She will only stop until she reaches her safe haven in Sydney.
Suddenly, she feels a sharp sting on the back of her neck. She swings around to look into Shane’s face. In his hand is a needle and syringe.
“Going somewhere, sexy?”
Clover rubs her neck. “Did you just –?”
“I sure did, sexy.”
Shane suddenly starts to tilt and everything goes black.
End of second excerpt. More coming soon!

Release date: Coming soon!

Follow this blog to avoid missing out on the next excerpt. You want to keep up with Scarlett’s underhandedness, believe me!

This is one of the books in the Girl on Fire Series. Read The Other Woman (an epic and jaw-dropping collision between a betrayed wife and a cunning seductress),  which is available on #KindleUnlimited, Please read before you read this book. 
Fans of Girl on the Train and Gone Girl, The Affair,  will love Eve Rabi’s tale of love, lust and revenge.
#RomanticCrime #RomanticSuspense #StoriesofRevenge #VigilanteJustice #FreeonKindleUnlimited #LoveTriangles#TheOtherWoman

Wordpress promo banner the other woman 18 dec 17 Eve Rabi(To To download a copy of The Other Woman, click on image above)

EMBERS OF TEMPTATION by Eve Rabi (Book Release)

EMBERS OF TEMPTATION  (Excerpt One) 

 

Blog image 1 wordpress Wrath of Temptation 09 Jan 18

SCARLETT 

Pumping with adrenaline, I look out of the window, my ears cocked for the sound of the chopper. Where are you? Liars, cheats – where the hell are you? Better hurry, I don’t have all day.
Nearby, three technicians quietly comb my home for bugs. “It’s an emergency, the Church of Light is in grave danger!” I declared when I called them. “Pastor Colin needs your help.” The suckers dropped everything and rushed to protect their church and their pastor.
I figured, first things first – before I deliver any kind of retribution, I need to rid the place of all surveillance equipment installed by that psychopath called Clover. Or Love. Or Whatever the fuck she’s calling herself these days. Before more damage is done.
Joy Sterling indeed – I can hardly believe how dumb Sister Grace was for not checking this so-called volunteer out thoroughly. By not doing her job, she has allowed Clover to believe that she can take me on. Me, Scarlett Smyth-Murdoch-Callan, manipulator and criminal extraordinaire, probably one of the finest Svengalis to tread the Earth. She has no idea who she’s dealing with. How dangerous I am. That she is tangling with someone with an IQ higher than that of Einstein.

Such a fraud, pretending to be so helpful and supportive and reliable – coming up with the sparkling pacifier, the convenient playground – God, I feel like screaming right now!
Before you call me dumb (someone like me could be duped by an  unremarkable, unimpressionable, thrift-shopper in long skirts, vintage cardigans and sensible shoes), just remember that I have an empire to run, so I was distracted. It happens, okay? Distraction is an occupational hazard for moguls like me, so don’t even think of berating me. And … just keep in mind how quickly I derailed her locomotive of deceit.
Clover’s biggest mistake was thinking she could take me on. Her second biggest mistake is that she forgot about that greedy hillbilly named Liz. That beanpole who also, God knows why, thought that she could take on someone like me. “Give me ten thousand dollars today and two hundred thousand dollars in three days.” Yeah?

“Fetch me cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows.”

Really? Bitch, I am the director of the Church of Light, not a volunteer. And FYI, never in my whole life had I ever fetched anything for anyone.

Well, I hope she enjoyed that steak sandwich and that cup of hot chocolate, her last feast before she was deposited where she belongs – three feet under (six is not necessary). May the maggots enjoy feasting on her wiry body.

Bristling with fury, I look at the three wise men, roaming the place with their selfie sticks. Or detectors – they look like selfie sticks to me. My ears are cocked and ready for that, Found one! For that, beep! beep! beep! followed by ‘gotcha!’
More than an hour passes, and not a squeak from the men. Absentmindedly, I inspect my nails – I’ve ruined a good manicure by constantly tapping of my fingernails on the table.
As I wait, I think about Townsend, the sleaze bag. Thanks to Shane, he will soon be accompanying Liz. No one will come calling for Townsend – he’s a mere unemployed British actor working illegally in Australia, and doesn’t have any family around who will miss the creep in ridiculous red briefs. The nerve of him thinking I’d fall into bed with him. The nerve of him demanding a Maserati. The nerve of him thinking he could blackmail me. That’s always been the problem in my life – everyone around wants a piece of me. Love, Liz, Townsend, Shane – yes, even Shane the cokehead is expecting a piece of the pie I so lovingly and so painstakingly baked. Why? I’ll tell you why they demand a piece of me – it’s because I’m a woman. A powerful woman at that. If were a man, not even an authoritative one, even if I were a Weasel like Woody Allen, everyone would laud me, not blackmail me. They would expect nothing from me and be too scared to even think of asking. You think people can go up to Donald Trump and shake him down? Picture it – Trump, can you fetch me a steak sandwich? Trump, go fetch me a hot chocolate with marshmallows. Trump, buy me a Maserati.
Can you picture the look on Donald’s face? He’d stare at them with puckered lips, before he makes a call – not to 911, not to the Secret Service, not to the FBI, not even to Ivanka – no, he’d place a call to the Russians. That’s right – they’d be there in fifteen seconds to douse the person in mob-strength, flammable Vodka, light a match and throw it on them – Nostrovia! (now you know why mobsters light their cigarettes with matches. You can’t throw a lit cigarette lighter at a body, can you?).
“Sister Callan?”
I spin around to look at the men. “Yes?”
“All done,” the head of the bug-finding team says. “Nothing to report.”
“What? That can’t be right!”
The man shakes his head, his comb-over causing a breeze in the process. “Not a single one.” He waves the selfie stick like a flag.
“Are you sure? There must be surveillance devices.”
“Nah. We’ve combed the place for them. Nothing. Checked, doubled checked – nothing. Not even one of those cheap nanny cams.”
“And you’re certain of that?”
“Positive. We would have caught them by now. The place is clean.”
“Mm.”
“Luckily for everyone, right?”
No, not luckily. If there aren’t any camera’s around, just how did the bitch gain access to my computer files and my money? She’s gained access to just about everything and everywhere in the house, except the basement. It’s startling to think of the damage she’s done without the use of old fashion surveillance cameras.
“Ah, well, okay then.”
The men stare at me.
What? Surely, they’re not expecting to get paid? It’s the friggin’ church, for crying out loud! Have some goddamn respect!
“The Church of Light thanks you,” I say in a dismissive voice, before I turn away from them.
The men look at each other, shrug, before they slowly shuffle out of the house.
The moment they leave, I log onto my laptop, and holding my breath, I double-check my off-shore bank account. Maybe, just maybe, the money is still there. Please, please, please, let my money be there!
As I look at the screen, a feeling of utter devastation follows – the money, the one I’ve worked so hard for, has definitely vanished. My heart shatters and the pain is physical. Clover … I’m going to slice her up if I don’t get my money back. She has it. There’s no way someone can spend sixteen million dollars in such a short space of time. My guess is that she’s stashed it somewhere. In another bank account in Switzerland. (When did she get to Switzerland? How did I not notice her absence?) If she does not want to die a painful, prolonged death, she will return my money.
With my ear cocked and listening out for the sound of the chopper, I walk over to the bar, fetch a bottle of vodka (which is the only fetching I do, by the way), and take a couple of swigs from it.
What? Like you don’t drink from the bottle?

*****

CLOVER

In the chopper, Clover shifts about in her seat. Hurry up! Hurry up! Hurry up! Questions zip through her mind:
What’s happening to Angel?
What will happen to her and Colin?
Will the evil witch shoot them on sight? Has she already shot Angel? Buried her …
At the thought of her baby being hurt, at the recollection of the drawing of the child on the fridge, the cold hand of dread squeezes her heart. Please God …
Colin reaches over and slowly removes her hands from her head. She looks at him, unaware that she was holding her head. He nods – Relax, it’s going to be okay.
Clover squeezes her eyes shut, before she opens it again and looks out the window. She whiles away the time tallying her deceptions: among others … the secret DNA test of Colin and Angel, the hidden suitcases, Colin’s secret recovery, stealing Joy’s identity to worm her way into the church and hiding her real identity, stealing back Colin’s love and affections, and the grand prize – stealing millions of dollars from the wicked witch of darkness. People who steal that kind of money usually goes to prison or ends up having their throats slit. There are more crimes that she committed, too many to name, that make her believe she should run, that she should never have boarded the chopper. If it wasn’t for her baby in the clutches of that psychopath, she would never return to the Church of Light. No, she’d run and hide, leave Colin and bolt for her life.
At the sight of the church, her anxiety soars.

*****

Release date: Coming soon!

More excerpts to follow soon! Follow this blog to avoid missing out. You want to keep up with Scarlett’s underhandedness, believe me!

This is one of the books in the Girl on Fire Series. Read The Other Woman (an epic and jaw-dropping collision between a betrayed wife and a cunning seductress),  which is available on #KindleUnlimited, Please read before you read this book. 
Fans of Girl on the Train and Gone Girl, The Affair,  will love Eve Rabi’s tale of love, lust and revenge.
#RomanticCrime #RomanticSuspense #StoriesofRevenge #VigilanteJustice #FreeonKindleUnlimited #LoveTriangles#TheOtherWoman

Wordpress promo banner the other woman 18 dec 17 Eve Rabi(To To download a copy of The Other Woman, click on image above)

Books by Lian Moriarty, free books, little fires everywhere, books by marian keyes, the marriage lie free book, cheating, friend request, shari lapena, you book, behind closed doors, stillhouse lake, big little lies, everything we keep, into the water, mud vein book, 
the good widow, free books by martina cole, the couple next door, laura marshall author,
my absolute darling, what alice forgot, bad mommy book, books by sidney sheldon, gone girl book free, luckiest girl alive, sandra brown author, eliza maxwell, an american marriage book, black authors, my husband’s wife, patricia mclinn, reconstructing amelia, african american romance, colleen hoover, infidelity fiction, into the black, jackie collins, millions book, books by nora roberts, pepper winters books, sylvia day, the husband’s secret, valley of the dolls, jodi picoult, cheating romance, ella fields, 
the mountain between us, the break, amy harmon, anatomy of a scandal, anita shreve, asa harrison, barbara freethy, bette lee crosby, books romance, books romance and sex, bright side, colleen coble, eric segal, female authors, frayed silk, girl on a train, 

WRATH OF TEMPTATION – Hell Hath No Fury …

 

 

That’sphone-number-blog-image https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N598LIN

Reviews:

“OMG!!! Yet another amazing book by Eve. From the moment you start reading, you are gripped. I have recommended Eve to friends and family.” Smashwords reviewer

“I just finished the book. All I have to say is, HOLY SHIT, EVE! You wrote a killer story that grabs the reader’s attention and keeps it.” Smashwords Reviewer

“OMG Eve! You are absolutely BRILLIANT! I never saw that ending coming!” Smashwords Reviewer

“Forget those well manicured nails. Eve Rabi’s latest book Lead me into Temptation will have you nibbling on your delicate French tips from start to finish. Brilliant!” Smashwords Reviewer

“Wow! I loved this story! My suggestion, do what I did: find a quiet hiding spot, turn off your phone and escape into Scarlet’s world for a few hours. I promise you will not be disappointed.” Smashwords Reviewer

“Be warned: if you start reading this book you won’t want to put it down
until it’s over…then you feel a bit disappointed because you want more.” Smashwords Reviewer

“Prepare to sacrifice several hours of sleep and walk around with panda eyes because that’s what happened to me. But hey the adrenaline rush from this fast paced and exciting story was so worth it.” Smashwords Reviewer

cover-temptation-1-9-nov-16-medium

 

 

colin-prayer-facebook-1

“Wow! People are going to have to clear the schedules for this one, Eve. It’s a winner for sure! I’ve never read anything like this before. Where the hell do you get your ideas from? Never mind, just keep ’em coming.” Smashwords reviewer

cover-temptation-1-9-nov-16-medium

Eve Rabi’s 27th romantic crime & Suspense

thriller coming late November 2016!

MY EX-BOYFRIEND’S RING (Part Two)

Teddy P

Part One:

I was eighteen, he was nineteen.

I was shy when it came to boys, so he was my first kiss, my first date, my first love, my first everything.

Both of us were college students, so all he could afford on his student bursary was this li’l diamond chip.

But, it’s my most prized possession for so many reasons.

We dated for five years, until I left in search of greener.

I did get greener, bigger, better, but even though we live in different countries, I never forgot him, my first love. The boy who gave me all he had, all the time.

I talked to him the other day on Facebook. A mutual friend had told him that I had changed my status to ‘single’ on Facebook, so he wanted to know how I was.

We talked about his kids and my kids and our spouses and about life.

“You know, I still have the chain you bought me,” he said. “When we were dating. And I use it. Often.”

“What? You serious?”

“Absolutely. It’s my most prized possession.” His exact words. I couldn’t believe it.

I asked to see a picture of it, as I had forgotten what I bought him. He sent me a photo of a thin, flimsy, sterling silver chain. I laughed and cringed at its cheapness. He’s on the flashy side, so I was surprised that he’d wear something so simple.

“Does your wife know about it?” I asked.

“No, she thinks my mom gave it to me.”

“Mm. I still have your ring, you know.”

There was a small silence before he spoke. “You’re kidding me. You don’t actually have it, do you?”

“I have it.”

Another small silence. “Wow! Can I see a photo of it?”

“Okay, I will send you one tomorrow.”

So, I softened my cuticles, exfoliated my hands, painted my nails a pretty blue and took a picture of me wearing the ring.

“Wow!” he said when he saw the photo. “That’s a bloody cheap-ass ring I bought you. I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” I said. “It’s my most prized possession, too. I’ve kept it in the safe behind all my other jewelry and my will, so that my husband (ex-husband now) wouldn’t find it and badger me into throwing it out. Like he did with all our photos.”

“I’m so touched that you kept it. Hey, I remember the day I bought you the ring. You had this big grin on your face and you kept waving your hands around so that your friends would notice.”

I laughed out loud.

He was right; you’d think it was an 8 carat Harry Winston pink diamond or something, the way I flashed it around. But I was 18 and even though I tried to dissuade him from buying me a ring, I was thrilled with it.

“I remember that day,” I said, as my laughter died and a wave of nostalgia washed over me.

It was a while before he broke the silence.

“Eve, besides the times when you look at the ring, do you …like, I mean, do you ever …think of …me? Of us?”

For five years, he was my life, my love and we spent every waking moment together.  What did he think my answer was going to be?

I cleared my throat.

(To be continued)

 ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

September 23, 2013

PART TWO:

Continued from Part One …

I wanted to say, “Yes, I think of you. I think of you often. More than I should. I wonder how you’re doing. I wonder if you achieved all that you dreamed off. I wonder if you ever think of me, of us. I wonder if you hate me. Maybe just a little. I wonder if you love her the way you loved me. I wonder if you remember my birthday, cos I never forget yours.”

Chicken.

“Eh, you first,” is what I finally said.

“All the time,” he blurted without hesitation. “Every time I bought something new, achieved something, I thought of you. Anytime something monumental happened in my life, I don’t know why, but I thought of you. How nice it would be to tell you about it. Not because I wanted to show off or something, but just because.”

I sat in my cloak of smugness. He thought about me.  All the time too. Wow!

“Like the time you got married?” I said. “You called me that day, remember?”

“Yeah, and you were such a bitch about it.”

“What, you expected me to jump for joy?” He had no idea how painful that phone call was for me. How I pretended I didn’t care, all the while wanting to simply die at the finality of our break-up.

“Well, you could have …”

“You got married like almost three months after we ended things. And she moved in with you right away! You guys were moving at an incredible speed which was confusing to me. So yeah, I believed that there was something was going on between the two of you while we were dating. I still do. Of course I was pissed off.  With her and you. She stole you from me.”

“But you left for …”

“And anyway, I challenge you to find a girl who says, ‘Congratulations, ex-boyfriend who I dated for five years. Hope you and that bitch lives happily ever after like Shrek,’ and does a joyful jig.”

“Shrek? Ha! Ha!”

“And did your wife know you called me that day?”

“Of course not. She’d die if she knew.”

“Mm. And why did you call me? I mean, how could you, on your wedding day of all days, call me, your ex-girlfriend? Something was wrong with that picture, boy.”

“Yeah…I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Well, clearly you were thinking about me.” My voice oozed glee.

“Yeah, I was nuts.”

Bastard.

A short silence.

“Listen, I have to deliver a lecture. Three actually. Can we chat in about four hours? And can I call you?”

“It’s a long distance call!” I reminded him.

“Please, I really want to hear your voice. Please.”

“I…look, I really don’t …”

“Just this once. Please! Here’s my number…” He typed it in and hit send. “Message me your number. Now.”

After a slight hesitation, I said, “Okay.”

“Promise?”

“I will.”

“No, say you promise.”

I smiled. “I promise.”

“Cool.” He sent me three smiley faces and xoxo.

I laughed and messaged him my number.

How should I end the conversation, I wondered?

Xoxo? No, hugs and kisses – too forward for our first convo.

C u later? Too cold.

Shit!

I typed in five smiley faces and hit send. It’ was neutral enough and he could read into it what he liked.

I logged off and peered at the clock. Four hours.

Quickly, I loaded the dishwasher, tidied the lounge, folded washing, fed the dog and cat and hastily assembled a chicken salad for dinner; all so that I could be free to free to talk to him in four hours.

To hear his voice after thirteen years.

The thought of it made me shiver with delight.

I looked at the clock again. Only an hour has passed!

Damn!  

When my phone rang three hours later (not four), with an Out of Area signal on it, my mouth went dry and I swallowed hard.

After several deep breaths, I answered. “H…hello?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

“You sound the same,” he said, his voice full of excitement.

“Ohmigod, you sound the same too!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you do.”

“You …you don’t have an Aussie accent?”

“Well …”

“This is surreal,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Us talking. Just surreal.”

“Mm.”

“What’s your daughter’s names?” he asked.

“Billie and Sydney,” I answered. I wondered if he remembered that Billie had been significant to us. “What’s your kids’ names?”

“Joshua and …” His hesitation piqued my curiosity. “…Billie.”

I was stumped. Tears smarted my eyes, while he cleared his throat several times.

“Oh, man!” he said, his voice hoarse.

I nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see me.

We both fell silent as nostalgia lingered.

“You know that song by Kid Rock? All summer long…whatever? Remember that song?

“Eh, vaguely,” I lied.

“You should listen to it. I downloaded it, and when I’m alone in the car, I blast it and think about you. Us.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. All the time. I always smile when I listen to it. Sometimes I laugh out loud when I think of all the things we did then. Then I get hit by a bout of nostalgia and I’m sad again.”

My heart sang at his confession.

“And I think Rags knows it’s significant, because once or twice when she got into my car, it was playing and she changed the song straight away.”

“Mm.”

Good. I silently hoped it burned her.

“And Passenger? Let her Go? Do you know that song?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah?”

“I turn it off when I hear it.”

“Off? Wwwwwhy? I loooove that song!”

It was a while before he answered. “Makes me sad. Disappointed. I don’t quite know why. Like, I love my wife, I love my family, I’m happy in my life, I’ve achieved all I dreamed I would and more, yet…it’s like …I dunno, something is missing. When I think about you, that is. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not trying to start something…”

“We would have never made it,” I hastened to add. “We fought too much.”
“Ah, but it was the making up after the fighting that was great! Special. Wasn’t it? Or don’t you remember?”

I chuckle. “I do, I do.”

His words set my feet tapping against the wooden floors of my study. The making up was always so awesome. Beautiful.

“Don’t you fight with your wife?”

“No, not really.”

“Really? You don’t fight?”

“Yeah, she’s not like that. She doesn’t fight or argue and like, well, I dunno, she’s …reasonable. Logical.” There was a slight disdain to his voice.

“Mm. Sounds dull to me,” I said, my bitchiness getting the better of me. That comment will most definitely make him mad, I thought. Make him regret contacting me.

“Yeah, true,” he said to my surprise. “I liked it in the beginning, but it’s strange that the very thing I liked about her, is the very thing I …” He appeared to be choosing his words, “…I wish I could change.”

Wow, I hadn’t spoken to him in more than a decade and he’s talking so freely to me, I thought.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that to you. I feel disloyal to her when I do. She doesn’t deserve it.”

Yes she does! We probably would be together today had she not moved so swiftly.

We both fell silent for a moment.

“Your turn,” he said. “Spill. Do you think of me? Like over the years?”

I was hoping he’d forget to ask me.

“Well, yeah, I think about you too,” I confessed. “Five years is a lifetime. Especially during that period in your life. Like, I was seventeen when I met you and then we grew up together. It’s hard not to think about that time, you, our friends …”

“Yeah, I don’t understand why we can’t be friends and keep in touch with each other. I mean, I’m not trying to hurt anybody. And I know you – you wouldn’t want to hurt anyone, either.”

“True. So, you burnt all my photos, huh?”

He laughed.  “Yep. She found my hidden stash and demanded I burn it all. What a bonfire!”

“What about you?” he asked.

“Same. My ex found my diary once while I was out shopping and read the whole thing. Our fights, my fears, our sweet times…read every goddamn thing. So we too had a massive bonfire.”

“Too bad.”

“But hey, I salvaged something.”

“You did? What?”

“A tiny teddy bear you once gave me.”

“Seriously? You kept my teddy bear? Really?”

“Yep. It says, ‘I purr when I’m cuddled.’ Has a little red top. Very pretty and very precious.”

“Hey, you know what, I remember that teddy! We had a fight and…”

“…over my curfew on campus …” I smiled as I thought about it.

“…and you left me on the highway and drove off in my car! How could you do that to me? It was 2 AM.”

I laughed. “You’re the one who pulled over and told me to drive myself home. I begged you to get into the car, but you told me to fuck off, so I did. I was working the next morning, remember? Had to be up at 6.”

“God, you were such a bitch. I hitched a ride with a biker. Fat, old guy. He stank like shit and I had to put my thighs around his. Eeewww! Gives me the shivers to think about it.”

I laughed.

“Hey, I stole money from my mom’s purse to buy you that.”

“Ha ha ha. I didn’t know you stole money from your mom. But I remember that day, you bringing it to me. That was an awesome day.”

We spent the next hour trading memories, until it was time for him to go.

“I’ll call you again,” he said.

Tomorrow? Please say you’ll call me tomorrow?

“In two days.”

Damn! Why not tomorrow?

“Sure,” I said, doing my best to sound casual.

“Um…take care now and be good,” he said. “On second thoughts, don’t. Be just the way you are. Exactly the way you are.”

My grin was big enough to stick in a coat hanger.

After I hung up, I scrolled down my iPhone, found Kid Rock’s All Summer Long and hit play.

Every time I had heard that son, I thought about him. Only him. If only he knew.

Yep, we were trying different things, for sure.

We were smoking funny things, oh yeah!

“Mum?”

I whirled around to my little girl.

“Who you smiling at?”

“Um…well…eh…nobody,” I said and quickly left the room, my hand pasted over my mouth.

Alone in my room, I lay on my bed and post mortem every single thing he said. Every confession, every silence, every chuckle and I hug my pillow.

Two days…how will I survive the waiting?

To be continued…

 

Eve Rabi is the author of 29 romantic crime and suspense novels, five screenplays and more than half a dozen short stories, due to be released soon.
Inspired by the likes of Sidney Sheldon and Gillian Flynn, her tales are bold, scandalous, controversial. They’re also peppered with romance, humor and drama.
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.”
If you’re bored of regular romance, if you like your romance with twists and turns, if you prefer your crime novels to have strong romantic themes, then you will enjoy Eve Rabi’s multi-genre books.
In her spare time, Eve likes to dance like no one is watching.
She also likes to eat like no one is watching. That’s why she has to dance so often.

For more of Eve Rabi’s works, click on any of the links below:
Amazon U.K.: http://amzn.to/14vFE8r
Website: https://everabi.wordpress.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/eve.rabi
Twitter – https://twitter.com/EveRabi1
Pinterest – http://www.pinterest.com/everabiauthor/
Google + – https://plus.google.com/111560859015561071911
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/everabiauthor
Instagram: https://instagram.com/everabiauthor/
Blog: https://everabi.wordpress.com
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24490383-the-other-woman
Email:everabi2012@hotmail.com

MY EX-BOYFRIEND’S RING (18 years later, I get a friend request from him on Facebook.)

18 years later, I get a friend request from him on Facebook ring p

I was eighteen, he was nineteen when we met. I was shy when it came to boys, so he was my first kiss, my first date, my first love, my first everything. We were both college students, so money was scarce, yet he insisted on buying me a ring. All he could afford was this li’l diamond chip bought with money from his student loan. It became my most prized possession and it seldom left my finger.

We dated for five years, planned to marry someday, even chose names for our kids – a girl and a boy – Wesley and Paris.

We were truly, madly, deeply in love.

Sadly, as the years passed, I grew restless and left him in search of greener pastures. He was sad at my desire to leave, but he was quickly snapped up by a mutual friend. Within months, they got married.

I did get greener, bigger and maybe even better, but I never forgot the boy who bought me my first diamond. The boy who gave me all he could, all he had, all the time.

I moved to a different country and for years we had no contact with each other. But I always thought of him. What became of him? Then, a stroke of sheer luck – 18 years later, I get a friend request from him on Facebook. With shaking hands, I accepted his request.

Him: You hiding from me?

Me: Nope, you disappeared from my radar. Good to make contact with you again.

Him: Great to make contact with you. Wonderful in fact.

I feel a surge of happiness at his adjectives.

Him: Heard you changed your Facebook status to single. What gives?
Me: Didn’t work out. Happens.

Him: Happens, true. U ok?
Me: I will be now that I’ve heard from you. Smiley face.

Him: smiley face jumping up and down.

Me: lol.

Me: How is the wife, the kids, work?

Him: All good. Kids grown, taller than me. Smart too.

Me: Same here, except my kids aren’t really smart, just know-it-all kind of kids. They know everything. Seriously.

Him: Lol.

Him: Hey, you remember you once bought me a chain while we were dating?

Me: Yeah…the silver one? Y?

Him: Still got it. Use it all the time.

Me: U serious?

Him: Absolutely. It’s my most prized possession.

His most prized possession? My heart warms. I couldn’t believe it.

Me: I would love to see a pic.

Him: Hold on, will take one. Am wearing it now.

Me: Now? Wow!

I bristled with excitement as I waited for the picture. After a few minutes, I saw the chain. Thin, cheap and sterling silver. I laughed with delight, then cringed at its cheapness. He’s on the flashy side – gold chains, BMW, expensive threads… so I was surprised that he’d wear something so simple.

Me: Wow! Does your wife know about it?

Him: She thinks my mom gave it to me.

Me: I still have your ring, you know.

A short pause before he responds:

Him: U kidding me?

Me: Nope. I have it.

Him: You use it?

Me: No, for obvious reasons, but I think of you whenever I see it.

Him: Wow! Seriously?
Me: Seriously.
Another short pause before he responds.

Him: I’m feeling … well, moved. Can’t explain it.

I smile.

Him: Can I see a photo of the ring?

Me: Okay, I will send u one tomorrow.

Him: Now.

Me: Can’t. People around. Sorry.

Him: Pouting emoji.

Me: Smiling emoji. Still a big baby, aren’t ya?
Him: Yep.

Me: Gotta go.
Him: Wait!

Him: Same

Him: time

Him: tomorrow? This time?

I think about it before I answer. Will I be at my latptop tomorrow this time?

Him: Say yes. I really wanna talk to you. You’ve been on my mind for so long, and there’s so much to talk about. Right?

Me: Right. Talk tomorrow.

Him: Cool. Supercool. three smiley faces.

That evening, I softened and pushed back my cuticles, exfoliated my hands, painted my nails a pretty blue and took a picture of me wearing his ring. The next day, I sent it to him. His reply was immediate.

Him: Wow!

Him: It’s beautiful, but a bloody cheap-ass ring. I’m so embarrassed to have bought U such a small diamond. Cringing.

Me: Don’t be. As I said, it’s my most prized possession, too. I’ve kept it in the safe, tucked it away behind all my other jewelry and my last will and testament so that my husband (ex-husband now) wouldn’t find it and badger me into throwing it out. Like he did with all our photos.

Him: I’m touched that you kept it. Hey, I remember the day I bought you the ring. You had this big grin on your face and you kept waving your hands around so that everyone would notice.

I laughed out loud. He was right; you’d think it was an 8 carat Harry Winston pink diamond or something the way I flashed it around. But I was 18. Even though I tried to dissuade him from buying me a ring, I was thrilled with it and kept polishing it.

Me: I remember that day like it was yesterday. You paid cash in small notes too. All your money was spent on the ring, so we couldn’t afford a fancy lunch that day. We shared a pizza and a coke
I smiled, but as nostalgia washed over me, my smile faded. We were college kids, dabbling in the world of adults.

Me: u there?

Him: Yep. Frog in my throat.

Me: Same here.

Him: Besides the times when you look at the ring, do you …like, I mean, do you ever …think of …me? Of us?

For five years he was my life, my sweetheart. We spent every spare moment together, and talked about our future. What did he expect my answer was going to be?

Him: Honestly?

I cleared my throat.

(To be continued)

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Eve Rabi is the author of 29 romantic crime and suspense novels, five screenplays and more than half a dozen short stories, due to be released soon.
Inspired by the likes of Sidney Sheldon and Gillian Flynn, her tales are bold, scandalous, controversial. They’re also peppered with romance, humor and drama.
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.”
If you’re bored of regular romance, if you like your romance with twists and turns, if you prefer your crime novels to have strong romantic themes, then you will enjoy Eve Rabi’s multi-genre books.
In her spare time, Eve likes to dance like no one is watching.
She also likes to eat like no one is watching. That’s why she has to dance so often.

For more of Eve Rabi’s works, click on any of the links below:
Amazon U.K.: http://amzn.to/14vFE8r
Website: https://everabi.wordpress.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/eve.rabi
Twitter – https://twitter.com/EveRabi1
Pinterest – http://www.pinterest.com/everabiauthor/
Google + – https://plus.google.com/111560859015561071911
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/everabiauthor
Instagram: https://instagram.com/everabiauthor/
Blog: https://everabi.wordpress.com
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24490383-the-other-woman
Email:everabi2012@hotmail.com

 

%d bloggers like this: