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The WRATH of Temptation – Book

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Book 9 in the Girl on Fire Series

SYNOPSIS:

People say it’s okay to fail in life sometimes. They say it can be a stepping stone to … blah! blah! blah! They’re right.
I’ll tell you one thing you should never fail at. Murder. Oh, no, it’s one of the worst things you can possibly fail at. Especially a carefully orchestrated one. Ask anyone behind bars for attempted murder and they will tell you, that kind of failure is not an option, and it’s a stepping stone to time in prison.
In my case, my husband had an affair. That was okay – it happens. What was not okay, was him and his mistress, luring unsuspecting me to my death, burying me alive, she assuming my identity, they living a charmed life.
You feeling sorry for me? You should. Can you think of anything worse than being buried alive? No? You’re right – there isn’t anything worse than that – it’s pure hell.
It’s okay though, because they failed at murder, so they would live to regret it, because … I’m alive.
Mirror, mirror on the wall …

 

EXCERPT:

DROVER AND LOVE 
The story of the married man and his mistress continues …

With a heavy heart Drover watches the train ease out of the station. He doesn’t move. Love will return to him. She will change her mind, hit the emergency stop, force them to open the locked doors and run into his arms. They will hold each other for a long time, before they venture toward their next step in their complicated future together.
It wouldn’t be easy, he knows that for sure. Nothing worth it in life usually is. So, they would make the most of what they have and be thankful that they can be together some of the time. They love each other, that is all that matters. That is all that should matter.
The train becomes smaller. Drover waits.
The train became a speck in the distance. Drover drops to his haunches and watches the moving speck. Love will come back to him.
The train disappears completely from sight.
Drover does not move. The next station – she’s going to get off at the next station, board a train in his direction and rush into his arms.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t get up to pace, he stays exactly where she left him, so she can  find him easily when she returns to him.
Minutes pass. He waits.
People filter out of the train station. He waits.
Lights on the platform are switched off. The station became ghostly. Drover feel a little cold. He waits.
“Mate, you okay?”
Drover looks up into the face of the train station conductor.
“Wha …?”
“Been sitting like that for a while now, mate.”
Drover shrugs.
“Whachu waiting for?”
Drover lets out a long breath before he mumbles. “Love.”
The conductor chuckles. “Aren’t we all?”
Drover attempts a smile, fails miserably. He looks around. The place is now deserted.
“Go home, mate,” the man says in a kind voice. “She’s not coming back. Not t’day.” Embarrassed, Drover stands up and looks in the direction of the train.
She’s not coming back. Not t’day.
He nods. Love got onto a train and left, taking his heart with.  It’s over.
Shrouded in a despair, Drover turns and ambles toward his SUV. As he drives home, different scenarios flit through his mind.  What if he had got on the train and left with Love? Just followed his heart? Like they did in the movies? Rode off into the sunset with the woman he loved?
They would have been happy, yeah, but … would he have been able to live with himself knowing that he had abandoned his wife and children? That he was shirking his responsibilities? He loves Joy, he loves his kids and abandoning them all because he fell in love with another woman, is not something he could ever do.
Do the right thing – wasn’t that what a to do? A parent supposed to do? That was important to him – to do the right thing.
Sometimes in life, when love costs too much, a mammoth sacrifice is necessary. This is one of those times, and it hurts like hell.
He will forget her – the woman who could make him laugh, make him cry and make him quake with fear whenever she held a shotgun in her hands. The one who adored his silver and gold eyes. He glances in the rear-view mirror at his eyes and smiles. Silver and gold – what a way to describe them.
He will forget her, because time will make it happen. Well, that’s what people say. He will make time his friend. He was determined to.
A dull ache lodges in his chest. Heartache? Heartbreak? He releases his seatbelt a little. It doesn’t help- the ache persists.
He drives up to his house, eases the SUV into the garage and kills the engine. Instead of alighting from his vehicle, he remains seated behind the wheel and presses his palms to his eyes.
Joy. He’d have to face her. Damn!
He looks at his phone for the first time. One hundred and seven missed calls. Damn!
His quick-thinking, analytical brain kicks into gear – He’s been away for twenty-six hours. Joy has called every fifteen minutes during those last twenty-six hours.
Being the attorney that he is, he evaluates the facts:
AWOL for twenty-six hours.
He’d turned off his phone.
He’d left without an explanation.
Most importantly, he’d spent the last twenty-six hours with his mistress. There was no doubting as to who he was with.
Joy would have a problem with that. Joy has a problem with that – a phone call or text every fifteen minutes – crap! He’s not proud of his behaviour, but he just couldn’t help it – he was losing the woman he loves, because he put his family first.
Damage control:
Apologise, explain, then assure Joy that he is back for good.
Assure her that when faced with a choice, he chose to remain with her and the children.
Assure her that he is never going to leave her. Ever. She is his wife and she will always come first in his life.
He means it. He loves Joy and he knows that she is hurting right now. He vows to make it up to her. Do everything in his power to fix their marriage. Kiss away the hurt. He wants so badly to ease her pain.
Joy’s an attorney too; she’ll also look at the facts, resolve to handle the issue in a logical and rational way. We can do this.
Suddenly, his SUV is rocked by a loud bang and the sound of breaking glass.
“What the …?” He spins around to see Joy smashing the rear window of the SUV with a baseball bat. It is a shatterproof window, yet, glass flies at him.
“Joy, what the hell?”
Snarling with rage, Joy moves to the driver’s side and swings at his window. “Cheating, lying, son of a –”
Drover jumps out of the SUV and tries to get the bat off her, copping a good few blows in the process. Eventually he manages to wrestle the bat out of her hands and flings it into the bushes.  “Christ, Joy! What the hell are you doing?”
She stands before him, chest heaving, eyes glowing with anger. “You were with her, weren’t you?”
“I … I… Joy …”
She shoves him hard in the chest. “Answer me, you lying bastard!”
“Joy, I’m sorry, things happened … but it’s over, okay? I’m back, I’m home, with you and the children. I want to make things work. Please just … under –”
“How … how dare you treat me like this?”
“—stand, okay? Please?”
Her voice is shrill, borderline hysterical and she paces as she speaks.
“I’m sorry. I am. I really am. Please, let … let’s just forget it all and start again, Joy. Please.”
She whirls around to look at him. “Forget it? You … you dog. You fucking … you son of a …”
Drover allows her to vent, and vent she does, cursing and hurling insult after insult at him. He stays silent, nods his understanding, eager to let her get everything out of her system so they can move on.
He rubs his eyes, red and tired from the lack of sleep and crying.
“What? Your eyes are tired?” Joy circles him as she rages. “Didn’t sleep last night, huh? Too busy fucking that whore? Huh?”
“Don’t call her a whore, Joy.” The moment he utters those words, he regrets it. Too late. Joy stands absolutely still, a loaded silence follows, and Drover suddenly thinks about wearing a crash helmet.
“You protecting that slut? Seriously? You protecting her, DROVER?”
Drover looks at the ground.
She pokes him in the chest, then slaps him in the face. “Huh? Answer me, you dog! You protecting that dirty whore from nowhere? Huh? The one who spreads her thighs for any married man to get what she wants? Huh? Answer me? You actually protecting? You are protecting her. The audacity of you!”
Fight or flight. Blame the weariness, blame the fact that he was feeling emotionally and physically drained, blame the fact that Joy won’t stop, Drover choses the coward’s way out. “Listen, Joy, I’m going to take a shower, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, Drover strides into the house.
The house is dimly lit, eerily quiet and cold. Like something is missing. Love. She is missing. She walked into their dark, gloomy house and turned it into a home. Brightened up the place by turning on the lights, putting fresh flowers in the vases, and playing music. Add her humor, wit, goofiness and laughter to the mix, and the place became one big carousel of lights, music and laughter. Now that she’s gone, she’s taken it all with her, including that carousel.
At the thought of the days, the weeks, the months … life without her, that ache in his chest intensifies and a lump the size of a golf ball jams in Drover’s throat.
Andrew appears in front of him, eyebrows raised. He cranes his neck to look behind Drover. When he does not see Love, his shoulders sag.
Drover slaps him on the back, before hurrying on.
He sees Daisy on the top of the stairs, both hands balled on her chest, her face tear-stained.  “It’s true, dad?” she whispers. “Love’s gone?”
Drover’s shoulders lift and drop, before he whispers, “It’s gonna be okay, baby.”
She wipes away tears with her sleeve, then darts into her bedroom and shuts the door.
“Where are you going?” Joy shouts, running behind Drover. “I haven’t finished with you!”
Drover takes the stairs, two at a time, and heads for their bedroom. He strips quickly, throws his clothes on a chair and makes a dash for the bathroom.
As he showers, Joy flings open the bathroom door, a golf club in her hand.
Drover’s heart drops. If she slams that club against the shower door …
He’s unsure what to do – stay in the shower and let her vent, get it all out of her system, or leave the shower and get rid of the golf club, but risk getting into a physical altercation with her as he does?
“Yes, take shower, a hot one!” she yells above the noise of the shower. “Scald yourself, Drover, and get rid of the stench of infidelity before it further taints this home of ours! Before you further defile our marital bed with the scent of that slimy whore.”
Don’t call her a whore!
Drover remains in the shower, trapped, because there is no escaping Joy’s wrath. For a few minutes he lets both the water and Joy’s vitriol rain over him, waiting for that swing of the golf club, listening out for the sound of shattering glass.
It’s unfair, he thinks as he watches her. If the roles were reversed – if he threatened Joy with a baseball bat and a golf club, while she was in a car or in the shower, people would call him abusive, and he’d face jail time for sure. Yet, she gets away with it because she’s a woman.
He turns off the taps, steps out of the shower and moves toward the towel rack, his eyes still fixed to the golf club in her hand. Joy beats him to towel rail and snatches the towel out of it.
“Joy, please!”
“You don’t deserve anything in this house, you slime ball. Not even a goddamn towel.”
Drover yanks the towel out of her hands, wraps it around his waist and walks into the bedroom, expecting to feel the golf club in his back. Joy follows him into the bedroom.
Stay calm and keep apologising.
“Joy, I am here,” Drover says in a controlled voice. “I’m home, okay? I’m sorry for everything. I am.” He lowers his tone of voice, put his hands on her shoulders and looks into her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry I did. I really am. You were gone for almost a year and … I was … Joy, I was lost, alone … and … she was there, and she was lonely too and … it just –”
“— happened? Is that what you’re going to tell me? You going to use that cliché as your get-out-of-jail card? Seriously?”
Drover hesitates, then continues. “I’m home now, Joy. Where I want to be, okay? How about you cut me some slack? Please. I really need your –”
“You … you … how dare you try and sweet-talk me?” She violently shrugs off his hands, then slaps him across the face.
“Joy, I am home!” Drover yells. “What more do you want from me?” He snatches the golf club out of her hand and flings it across their bedroom. It crashes into a picture frame of them on the wall and shatters it. Glass rains down on the carpet.
Joy stares for a moment in disbelief. He stares too, shocked at his anger. He’d never done anything like this before.
Joy soundlessly claps her hands. “Good shot, Drover! Bet you wish that photo frame was me, right?”
Drover doesn’t answer. With a Labrador-like shake of his head, he strides back into the bathroom, shuts the door and locks it.
“And don’t act like you are doing me any favours by being here, because you aren’t!” Joy yells, banging on the door. “You open this door, you cheating bastard!” She starts to kick the door.
With his eyes squeezed shut, Drover leans his forehead against the bathroom door. Maybe if he’s out of her sight, she will calm down, he reasons.
She doesn’t; she continues to rage, screaming profanities and abuse at him through the locked door.
Drover gets back into the only place he can hide – the shower. It drowns out her threats and gives him time to cool down. He only gets out of the shower when the water runs cold.
What was colder than the water? Joy’s shoulder – she suddenly stops ranting and they spend the rest of the night in icy silence.
This is so hard, Drover thinks as he lies in the dark at three in the morning, staring at the ceiling. If only Joy knew how hard ending the affair was on him, on his heart, she would act differently. She would put her arms around him and hold him close, help him fix the broken pieces, help him grieve the loss of the woman he fell in love with, so that he can move on with his life. With their life. That’s what he longs for – for her to understand, comfort him, make him believe that he’s made the right decision, make him think that Joy was worth suffering heartbreak over. Worth the pain. Make him believe that doing the right thing was … worth the pain.
Joy does not – her episodes of rage become maniacal. There are marathon sessions of abuse hurling (“You both are liars and thieves! Rotten to the core. Dirty cheats, that’s what you are.”), where she dishes accusation after accusation, asking questions, then demanding answers (“How was she in bed? Better than me? Huh? Tell me. Go on answer me, you son of a bitch!”).
Asking questions, then answering it herself (“Where did you fuck her, huh? I’ll tell you where you fucked her – in the car, in the bathroom, in the toilet, in the shower, in my fucking bed, Drover! In my bed!”).
Asking questions, providing him the opportunity of a multiple-choice answer, then demanding that he pick one (“How does she compare to me in the sack? Huh? I’d like to know. Tell me. Was she as good as me? Was she almost as good as me? Was she so good, so much better than me, you had to have the slut at any cost?”).
If he answered, he was in trouble. If he didn’t answer, he was in trouble. He could do nothing right. Day in and day out, morning, noon and night, Joy unleashed on him, and there were no signs of her anger abating.
Sadly, a lot of the madness was in front of their children. To spare them, Drover would often walk away during an argument, walk away from an imminent fight, hoping she’d cool down if he left her alone – it takes two to tango. That didn’t work – Joy would follow him around the house, insisting he answer, provoking a reaction, baiting him to fight back. She’d poke him, slap him, shove him and throw things at him.
When he extracted himself from a volatile situation, or a potential fight, she’d call him spineless, a pussy and a coward.
It was ugly. It was hell.
Often, he’d have no choice but to get into his SUV and drive off to some place he could hide from her wrath. Sometimes, he would leave home in the middle of the night and sleep in his SUV rather than go back and face Joy. Because of this, he now kept a blanket, pillow, a toothbrush and a change of clothes in his SUV. If he wasn’t a man, he’d probably find himself in a woman’s shelter, seeking refuge for the night.
Oh, there were times when Joy wasn’t abusive. Those times she was hostile, cold and uncooperative toward him. She would ignore his questions, turn off the light while he was in a room reading, hide his car keys, hide his wallet, hide his phone charger, hide his phone, hide his eyeglasses, hide the remote to the garage, hide the remotes to the TV, hide the remote to the air conditioning unit or change the wi-fi password for no reason.
It was as ugly. It was hell.
The saddest and most unpleasant part of this whole thing? The children – when Joy flew into her rages, she unleashed on them too. Over simple things, like Andrew spilling some orange juice on the table, or Daisy forgetting to say thank you to her. She would get in their faces and scream at them, and they would quake with fear, expecting her to hit them.
No one knew when Joy was going to explode. The family, terrorized and edgy, tiptoed around the house, speaking in whispers, avoiding Joy at all costs, and tensing the moment they heard her voice.
Before long, every inch of their beautiful, triple-story, 6,800 square-foot home was covered in eggshells.
Life was ugly. Life was hell.

Release date: 16 January 2018

This is not a stand-alone book. It is a sequel to the Other Woman (an epic and jaw-dropping collision between a betrayed wife and a cunning seductress), which has an overall 5-star rating on Amazon U.K. and Amazon Aus. Fans of Girl on the Train and Gone Girl will love Eve Rabi’s tales of love, lust and revenge.

#RomanticCrime #RomanticSuspense #StoriesofRevenge #VigilanteJustice

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(Click on image above to read The Other Woman)

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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

broken hearts

 

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.

aaa Facebook white lies

“Riveting from beginning to end. The twists and turns this book takes are unimaginable. Love it and want more!”  Amazon Reader

Amazon UK:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00PPI8T7I

Amazon US:
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Amazon Aus:
http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00PPI8T7I

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Author Bio:
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.”
Amazon U.K.: http://amzn.to/14vFE8r

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Email:everabi2012@hotmail.com

 

Lead us into TEMPTATION (Malice)

blog 1

P.S. If you can’t stand the wait and want the excerpts now, simply email your Amazon review link of The Other Woman to everabi2012@hotmail.com and we will send you 3 scandalous excerpts from Lead us into Temptation (Malice) within 24 hours.

AND…you will get an exclusive early look at the concept cover art (you see it first).

Haven’t had a chance to review The Other Woman yet? You can click on either of the links below to leave a review and then once you are done make sure you email us your link 🙂

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You’re gonna love what Scarlett, the bitch, the hoe, the slut has to say, trust me 😉 Remember her motto, “I fuck back. Big time. Don’t mess with me.”

FREE for a limited time! CAPTURED

“How do you expect me to walk away from him when he’s everything
I’ve ever wanted and more in a man? He’s wrong for me, I’m wrong for
him, I get that – but this fire that burns between us – it’s out of control
and try as I might, I can’t ignore it. I won’t. Don’t ask me to.”
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FREE for a limited time -My Wife’s Li’l Secret

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“I had it all – the loving and supportive wife, two precious girls, a

thriving business. I believed I was the luckiest bastard on earth. Turns out

I was wrong. Totally wrong.” Ritchie MacMillian

My Wife’s Li’l Secret. FREE 28 Jan to 01 Feb 2016!

#books #RomanceNovels #Reading #GoodBooks #Fiction #Pinterest #Kindle #romance Facebook and instagram far end of the bed

Description
She called me the miracle in her life, I called her my little treasure. Sounds corny, I know, but I really believed I was the luckiest bastard on earth. I had the loving and supportive wife, a nurturing mother to our two precious girls, a thriving business and the future looked rosy. I was a contented man.

But overnight everything changed. My wife withdrew from me, ignored our children, and made it clear she was no longer interested in playing the role of wife and mother. We had two children under five, they needed her. I needed her.
When her dressing began to change and she disappeared for hours, I suspected I was not enough for her. Thinking she was having an affair, I placed my wife of five years under surveillance. What my surveillance revealed shook my world, broke my heart and went on to expose a web of lies and deceit.

#books #RomanceNovels #Reading #GoodBooks #Fiction #Pinterest #Kindle #romance Facebook My wife every time i thought I knew what was going to happen

Reviews:

“I have loved every single one of Eve’s books, this one however was a hit out the park!”
“Wish I could award this book 10 out of 5 STARS!!”
“Riveting from beginning to end. The twists and turns this book takes are unimaginable!
“Wow I was totally entranced with this book from the beginning!”
“All in all I loved this book, it made me laugh, cry, hold my breath till I went blue, smile and finally caused my heart to break for Ritchie!”
“Very gripping but sad story line! But keep the tissues handy.”
“Drama, suspense, mystery, action, romance and sex – this fast-paced thriller has it all. Buckle up. You and your kindle are in for a ride, Eve Rabi style.”
“Twists that will blow your mind and make you think about this book long after you finish it.”

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To get your free copy of this book: click on the links below:

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It’s Alive!!! My Wife’s Li’l Secret

It’s alive so go grab your copy now!

 

 “One of Eve Rabi’s most addictive and thrilling tales to date.”

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“I loved this book. It made me laugh, cry and hold my breath till I went blue.”

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to happen. I was so, so wrong. Kept me gripped.”

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To purchase this books, click on link below:

My Wife’s Li’l Secret (A book by Eve Rabi Coming soon)

Love and Seduction

Synopsis

She called me the miracle in her life, I called her my little treasure. Sounds corny, I know, but I really believed I was the luckiest bastard on earth. I had the loving and supportive wife, a nurturing mother to our two precious girls, a thriving business and the future looked rosy. I was a contented man.

But overnight everything changed. My wife withdrew from me, ignored our children, and made it clear she was no longer interested in playing the role of wife and mother.

We had two children under five, they needed her. I needed her.

When her dressing began to change and she disappeared for hours, I suspected I was not enough for her.

Thinking she was having an affair, I placed my wife of five years under surveillance.

What my surveillance revealed shook my world, broke my heart and exposed a web of lies and deceit.

My Wife’s lil Secret

Coming soon!

 

Excerpt from My Wife’s Li’l Secret:

Since my wife was out partying again, bedtime routine for our girls was left to me. Again.  I tucked Ally and Becky into bed and began to read a story to them. “Once upon a time…”

“Dadda?” Ally said placing her hand on the storybook and stopping me from continuing.

I paused and looked at my daughter. “Yes, Alleycat?”

“Dadda, what’s a hooka?”

“Whaaaat?” I peered at my daughter wondering if I had heard correctly.

“The teacher at preschool, she said, ‘Here comes the hooka,’ when she saw Mummy.”

Slowly, I lowered the book and stared at my daughter. “It’s …it’s …”

How do I explain what a hooker is to a four-year-old? I shouldn’t even be in a position where I had to.

“The lady shouldn’t have said that, Ally,” I muttered.

“But, Dadda …”

Two-year-old Becky spun around and clamped her hand over Ally’s mouth. “Shhh! Let Daddy read the story, Ally!”

Becky hated anyone interrupting a story, so to prevent her from getting mad with us, both Ally and I fell silent. I continued reading even though I was terribly distracted by Ally’s words.

“Talk about it tomorrow, Ally,” I muttered when the opportunity arose.

Ally nodded.

After the kids fell asleep, I sat in my lounge in the dark and pondered Ally’s teacher’s comment.

Liefie had great legs, a great figure and I had no problem with her wearing whatever she liked, but people were talking and clearly her dressing needed to be …addressed.

Of course I expected Liefie to become angry when I confronted her about it, accuse me of controlling her and after the number of arguments we had had, I was reluctant to talk to her about it.

But when I saw her the following evening, all dolled up and ready to party without her family again, hooker was the word, alright.

Her red skirt was the size of a large belt, her white top strained across her breasts and ended above her belly button, her fake tan looked like she’d dipped herself in food coloring and that garish, face paint with that dominating electric-blue eye shadow…reminded me of Braveheart.

She didn’t look pretty; she looked like an aging prostitute. Harsh words, I know, but they weren’t out of malice, they were simply an observation. (People were talking, remember?)

Tarty make-up aside, to my absolute surprise, she sported two piercings above her left eyebrows. My jaw fell.

When did that happen, I wondered? How could that happen? Why hadn’t she told me about it?

Of course it was her body and she was free to do what she liked to it, but facial piercings weren’t something I liked. She knew that.

She could have at least mentioned it to me before she pieced her face. We were husband and wife; it was reasonable to expect her to talk to me about something like that before she did it.

“What’s with the piercing?” I asked, both mesmerized and irritated by them.

She shrugged, flashed me a deal-with-it look and turned away.

With a weary sigh, I walked around to face her. “We need to talk.”

A guarded look flashed in her eyes before they hardened.

“Liefie, you need to dress more like a mother,” I said in a quiet voice. “You have two children and …”

“What?! You want to tell me how to dress now? You want to CONTROL ME?”

Just as I had expected.

“Hey, keep you voice down, will you? I’m talking to you, that’s all.”

“There is nothing wrong with my dressing, okay?! Nothing!”

“Yes, there is, Liefie. Your skirts are too short, your tops are way too tight and the people at Ally’s school are talking about it. You need to …”

“Ally’s school?” Her heavily-lined eyes slanted.

“Yes!”

Her painted, pillar-box-red mouth twisted into a sneer. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not. I swear!”

She cocked her head and looked at me. “Who told you that?”

“Ally told me. She said one of the mothers or teachers, I can’t remember, after seeing you, used the word hooker.”

Her body stiffened. “Ally said ….THAT?!?”

“Yea…”

“That bitch! Where is she?!” She turned and strode off in search of Ally. Even though she was in heels, she almost ran.

“Liefie stop!” I cried running after her, shocked she would call her little daughter a bitch. “Leave her alone!”

She found Ally playing with Becky in the TV room. “Did you call me a hooker?” she demanded, putting her flaming face in Ally’s.

“Liefie stop this shit!” I warned.

Ally’s eyes flitted between Liefie’s and mine, a terrified look on her face.

“Lief…ie! ” I hissed. “Stop this …”

Liefie suddenly backhanded Ally across the face, sending her crashing into a doll’s house.

Ally lay on the floor so stunned, she didn’t even cry. The only thing that showed her distress was puddle appearing around her waist.

For a moment, I too was stunned. Liefie had never ever hit our kids before.

Then fury overtook me – I grabbed my wife by the hair and slammed her against the wall.

Putting my face in hers, I snarled, “You ever touch my child like that and I will fuck the shit out of you, understand? UNDERSTAND?”

Her attempt to look defiant failed and I saw fear flicker in her eyes.

I had never hit Liefie before, never even called her names, so this wasn’t something she was used to.

“Don’t ever lay a finger on any of my daughters. Understand?” I pushed my face further into hers, resisting the urge to head-butt her.

“Daddy, stop! Daddy!” Ally cried, while Becky started to whimper. I looked over at my two children clinging to each other, terror on their little faces.

What am I doing?!

Quickly, I released Liefie and took a giant step back.

I walked over to Ally and Becky, scooped up both of them and hugged them to me. “It’s okay, it’s okay!”

They looked at their mother who stood holding her head with both hands, but did not try to go to her.

After a few moments, Liefie ran out of the room, shouting, “Your father is an abusive man! He just abused me in front of our children. That’s the kind of man I married!”

I looked at Ally. “Sorry, hon.”

“Why did you tell her, Daddy?” Ally whispered, holding her tear-stained cheek.

“I’m sorry, Al, I was trying to get her to do the right thing. I’m sorry.”

“You knew she’d hit me, Daddy. You shouldn’t have told her.”

I peered at Ally. “What are you talking about? She doesn’t hit you, Ally. Usually. Right?”

No answer.

“ALLY?!”

“I need to change my pants,” Ally muttered, ignoring my questions.

My head jerked to look at little Becky.

Becky’s head bobbed, her eyes opening wide.

You can’t be serious?!

My eyes shifted back to Ally. “This is the first time she hit you, right? Or does she hit you? Tell me, Ally.” I shook her. “Tell me!”

Becky’s head continued to bob.

“All the time, Daddy,” Ally finally muttered. “Yesterday she hit me because I took too long to get Uncle Viggo’s beer. From the fridge.”

“WHAAAT?” She had my four-year-old daughter fetching alcohol for her brother?

Ally nodded.

“Mummy hit Ally here,” Becky said, slapping the top of her head.

I was mortified at what I was hearing.

If Liefie could hit my daughter that way in front of me, backhand her, what would she be doing behind my back? Aghast, I looked at my firstborn who I idolized. “Ally, honey, why didn’t you tell me this?”

“You weren’t here, Dadda. And Mummy said if I carry tales she’ll make me sorry.” Fat tears coursed down little Ally cheeks.

I drew my girls closer, feeling absolutely gutted to know they were being silently abused by their own mother. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Daddy will make it stop. I’m so sorry. This is not going to happen again. I promise.”

End of Excerpt

Release date will be published soon.

Friend me on Facebook for updates.

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

 

 

 

 

 

Good News or Bad News First?

eve 3 green top raine cut out 7 feb 14Yes, I have good news and bad news.Which one do you want first?

Bad news?

I knew you were going to say that! (I always ask for bad news first. Get it out of the way, I always say. Crazy huh?)

Anyho, the bad news is…I won’t be publishing my book in April 2014. It will be published in June/July.

Now, don’t get annoyed with me, ’cause I did bring out my last book a month in advance. So it kinda evens things out.

See, I’m exhausted from writing 22 books, juggling two know-it-all kids and a career that’s taking off nicely, so I’m going on a month-long holiday abroad, where I plan to (like Stella did) get my groove back. I plan to eat,  pray and Love to sit on the beach, sip cocktails and scoff tons of seafood while perving  scantily men around. Who knows, I too may bring back a cute Jamaican maan in need of a green card. 🙂

When I come back from my amazing holiday, I will be energized and invigorated (and sporting an amazing tan), focused and sharp and I will produce an amazing book that will catapult me into USA Today’s Best Seller’s list. Sigh, I can hardly wait to be …amazing!

Alright, peeps, that’s the bad news. (And you thought I say that I got knocked up, right? Wrong!)

Moving on…

The good news is, I have two books coming out around June/July. That’s right, two books!

I have been working steadily on them for a while now and I have a feeling you might like them too.

See, I told ya it was good news. (And you thought I was going to announce that I got knocked up, right? Wrong!)

But wait, there’s more!

 I have another book coming out at the end of October as well! That’s three books in 2014!

See, as I was working on the two books I’m busy with (Wounded Hearts which is purely working title), another story crept into my brain and plagued the fuck hell out of me, to the point where I got up at 3 AM one day and started working on it, pounding out a draft, before I put it away for later. Much later.

But wait, there’s more!

Eh, actually that’s it for now. Sorry:)

But as you may have noticed, we’re doing things a little differently in 2014; we’re experimenting with drugs marketing of my books and updating book covers along the way.
So if you spot a few  different book covers, don’t get all excited and think I’ve released a book. I will announce well in advance before I post any new releases.

In fact, I will post some teasers and more in May.

So, until then, keep warm, or cool depending where in the world you are, take care and try not to get knocked up 🙂

And before you go, take a look at my horoscope. This is so going on my vision board!

horroscope 4 march 14

So whatchusay? 🙂

Win one of two $50 amazon vouchers. See below for details:
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FREE BOOK! FREE BOOK! Burn’s World

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NB:

Burn’s World is a two-part series.

Part one, which comprises books one and two is for a limited time…FREE!

Part two, which comprises books three and four is available for sale.

 

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Excerpt:
“I’m ashamed of my need to be held – guess it’s been a while. Nothing sexual, just warmth, affection and tenderness, which I crave right now. It’s coming from the father of my baby; how wrong can that be?
Minutes go by and I find myself lying in his arms, my back to his accommodating chest. I bask in his masculine scent – the faint whiff of tobacco mingled with a musky but familiar aftershave – comforting.
As our breathing synchronizes, his hand slowly slides to my belly. ‘This is a miracle, a gift to us,’ he whispers. ‘Forget the circumstances, it’s still a miracle. I need you to love my baby. It means everything to me.’
I nod several times and place my hand over his. He shuffles his strong hand over mine so that our fingers entwine. Snug in a tender but illicit embrace, we drift off to sleep.
When I wake up in the middle of the night and find myself in Reed’s arm, reality bites. I’m married to a US Police Commissioner; he’s part of an Islamic militant group – what the fuck am I doing?
Slowly, to avoid waking him, I ease out of his arms. Sitting a distance away from him, I watch the rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps.
Reed stirs, opens his eyes and looks at me. He doesn’t say anything; he just holds my gaze. Then, he opens his arms to me.
I stare at his opened arms and will myself to shake my head from side-to-side, to say something like, “No thanks, we shouldn’t be doing this. You just caught me at a weak moment. I’m okay. Really, I am.” Smile to show I’m okay.
I do nothing of that sort – I just melt into his arms.
The way he holds me, the way he buries his face in my hair, the contented sigh he gives as he hugs me close, tells me he needs this as much as I do. We fall asleep almost immediately.”
End of Excerpt

Here’s what readers have to say about Captured:

“I laughed, I cried, I felt everything her characters felt. This one brought me to tears so many times!”

“Two hours sleep before work isn’t really substantial but it was worth it. Was one of those books you can’t put down!”

“I may read it again and I don’t usually do that.”

“This book is fast paced and will keep you on your toes, sometimes without time to take a breath.”

US link:
http://www.amazon.com/CAPTURED-Sworn-Enemy-Secret-Lover-ebook/dp/B0088IBIZC

UK link:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/CAPTURED-Sworn-Enemy-Secret-Lover-ebook

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