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
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.
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.
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?!?”
“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?”
“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?
“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.
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!)
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!
So whatchusay? 🙂
Win one of two $50 amazon vouchers. See below for details:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Part one (comprises of books one and two) is currently FREE!
Grab your copy now!
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.
To purchase Burn’s World part one on AMAZON.US
click on book below:
To purchase Burn’s World part one AMAZON UK click on book below:
Win one of two $50 amazon vouchers. See below for details:
“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.”