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Sunday, October 29, 2017

Three Snippet's from Learner Mum By Joanne Rawson


SNIPPET 1 – LEARNER MUM

 I love my life, my routine. There is absolutely nothing I would change, but then one weekend, I had a phone call that was about to change not only my sacred weekend but a part of me, too. For you to fully understand where I am coming from, let me tell you a little about myself, I promise it won’t take long.

 I come from a very religious background. Regardless of my parents’ preaching hellfire and brimstone, I have spent my entire life rebelling, unlike my younger sister, Wendy, the role model of morality, who has done it all by the big black book: courted, engaged, married and now raising a family. Although I am a successful freelance journalist slash writer, when I introduced Steve to my parents, straight away they knew he was the ideal husband for their then-twenty five year old daughter. Finally, I had found a man who could add stability to my life of debauchery. Steve is a morning presenter on one of Nottingham’s local radio stations, and the only son of Clive Rutherford, MD and Susan Rutherford, a respected paediatrician.

 However, Steve and I have been living in what my parents call ‘sin,’ for the past eight years. We are so happy with our life, but to their disappointment, there are no signs of wedding bells or the patter of tiny feet on the horizon. Why?

 Because, I hate babies. Well, perhaps hate is a little strong, and honestly speaking, how can I hate something I don’t know a bloody thing about? Don’t misunderstand me, of course I’m fully aware of the biological know how, of how one gets a baby. Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of the practical, but NEVER, NEVER, have I been tempted in the least to follow the experiment through. I personally think all men’s willies should be tattooed with a baby warning, like the stickers you see about dogs and Christmas in the back of a car window. It should read: A kid is for life, not for one night of sex.

 Another thing, what is all this crap about my biological clock ticking, or we just know when we are ready to start a family? So, what do these people do? One night they are sitting watching their nightly soaps and the wife instead of saying, “Shall I defrost a chicken for dinner tomorrow?” says, “I think we should start a family.” Then the husband considers for a moment, during an advert, and replies, “O.K. love, but after I’ve watched the news.”

So now, you know that I, Polly Wilkins, am not in the least bit maternal.

 

SNIPPET 2 LEARNER MUM

 I rolled over gasping for breath. Reaching out my arm, I grabbed my mobile, seeing WENDY on the screen of my phone. “This better be bloody important, to interrupt my Saturday morning sex.”

I knew that this would make my prissy sister cringe on the other end of the phone. Well, why wouldn’t it? This was a woman who referred to sex as, “relations.”

 “I’ll come straight to the point then,” said Wendy.

“Funny, that’s just what Steve was about to say!” I gave a smutty laugh down the phone, knowing that her face would now be pulsating with embarrassment, and her heart rate elevated at the mere thought of people copulating at this hour of the day.

“Yes, well, that’s hardly something one should share. Polly, I need you to listen. Brian has this two-day conference in Dublin. Normally, I stay at home, but this time partners have to attend. There is this gala dinner where Brian will get at least one award, and the Dublin CEO wants to meet us both. There is a big promotion coming up over there…..”

I was becoming agitated at how long my sister was taking. “Stop,” I interrupted. “Is this going to be a long conversation? If it is then I need to know, because my carnal desires are going off the boil here, Wendy.”

 “You can be so crass, Polly. Mum is laid up with her back. Dad can’t get coverage at work. Polly, I need you to watch Josh.”

For a moment, I was speechless, and then I broke out into hysterical laughter. “Sorry, Wendy, for one minute I thought you asked me to watch Josh.”

 “I did.”

Steve was being annoying, trying to grab the phone from me. I pushed him away, guessing the look on my face said I was now in no mood. I said with anxiety, “Either this is a joke or Wendy is drunk, but she has just asked me to look after Josh for two days.”

Steve rolled back onto his side of the bed, cracking up with laughter. Through the laughing I could just make out, “She must be drunk.”

 “Wendy, are you ok? Is this some kind of after birth depression?”

Wendy gave a heavy sigh. “I think you mean postnatal depression, and no, I went through that after Josh was born. He’s nearly a year old.”

 “Really, he’s one? Is this why you are depressed? Because, I always thought he was a little slow.”

 “Polly,” Wendy screamed at me over the phone line. “Josh is average for his age. Now will you blinking well help me out or not?”

I sat bolt upright in bed. I could feel my heart beating faster, the tightness in my chest constricting my every breath. I was the last person my sister would ask to look after her first-born. Hell, Wendy knew that I couldn’t even look after their goldfish for a week without killing them. How the hell could I keep a baby alive?

 Now that I was hyperventilating, Steve took control, as Steve always did when it came to my family.

 Reassuring Wendy, Steve told her everything would be fine. Steve had learned the art of pacifying the Wilkins family down to a tee. It was amazing how just the calmness of his voice, and the serenity on his face, could get them to agree to anything when it came to me.

 As he put the phone down, a wave of hysteria took over me, and I screamed, “What the hell were you thinking? Neither of us have any idea about bloody babies!’ Feeling a churning in my tummy, I ran to the bathroom to puke.
 
 
 
SNIPPET 3 LEARNER MUM
This was not me. I am Polly Wilkins, the independent career woman, a free spirit, who never lets anything get the better of her. Yet knowing it still did not stop the tears and mashed potato falling in globs from my chin, as I pulled congealed dinner out of my hair. All I wanted to do was lock the bathroom door, draw a hot bubble bath, and try to forget about today, in the hope that when I emerged fresh and revived, I would find Steve starting to prepare dinner and that it had all been a very bad dream. But I couldn’t. I left Josh, much as myself, covered in food, yet as happy as a pig in muck, grinding a rusk into the remains of his dinner on his tray. Shoving my head under the shower, I quickly rinsed my hair, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around my head.
* * * *
As I walked down the hallway, it hit me like a smack in the chops. “Oh my God, what is that smell?” Had old Mr Thompson’s cat sneaked into the flat again? Or worse, Mr Thompson himself, both were renowned for roaming the corridors, and wandering into any flat where they found the door unlocked? I’m not saying Mr T., like his cat, left a steaming package in a corner, or peed up a chair leg; let’s just say a quick hello to Mr T. left your eyes stinging from the pungent ammonia pong. Only last month, I had padded naked out of the shower to find Mr T. sitting on the sofa watching another gruelling rerun of Murder She Wrote. Needless to say, that social call not only cost us an arm and a leg in steam cleaning, but now left me trying to avoid Mr T., who, when he looked at me, obviously only saw me naked.
Wandering around the lounge, I could not find any cat poop, and the smell definitely was not as strong in here. When I retraced my steps back to the hall, it seemed to be coming from the kitchen. Strangely, as I got nearer to Josh, the smell got increasingly worse. I didn’t need to be Einstein to know, seeing the strain on Josh’s face, what was happening down there in the depths of his nappy.
I looked up to the heavens above, hoping that someone up there would know what to do in this moment of sheer need. “Please, if you really have any feelings for my weak stomach, Steve will walk through that door right now.”
I looked at the door, willing it to open. I had to think fast on my feet. After all, wasn’t that what mothers did in emergency situations like these? They would spin around, and turn into Wonder Mum, or in my case, Blunder Woman. Whatever. I had to get Josh out of his cackey nappy, not only for my sake, this was surely a hazard to the environment. It was then I spied my rubber gloves. “Good, now those will come in useful, it’s bound to be messy down there.” Just thinking about it made my tummy churn. Then, like resolving a mathematical equation, I pulled open a kitchen drawer. Rifling through, I found what I was looking for: a surgical mask. Steve had bought each of us one for our trip to Asia, when the scares were on about bird flu. Togged up in my rubber gloves and mask, I took Josh to the changing mat, holding him way out at arm’s length. Josh had a worried look on his face, not quite making out what was happening, and why his strange aunt seemed to resemble the masked person who had brought him out into the world. Perhaps he thought I was about to push him back. Believe me, if Wendy had walked into the room then, I would have.
Things were going fine. Josh seemed happy to lie there, as I took off his trousers. Then, peeling back the little plastic tabs, and opening up his nappy, I took one whiff, and instantly began to retch. “This is definitely not what I have just fed you. Dear God in Heaven, what does my sister feed this child, fertilizer?” I began to pull the nappy away from Josh. “Yuck, yuck, yuck,” I whined, trying not to look, but at the same time, trying to roll the nappy, yet the sticky tabs just would not stick. The last thing I wanted was it to unfold and... “Oh! I can’t bear to think what is inside.” Grabbing Steve’s golfing magazine, I wrapped the nappy inside. “There, that will teach him to leave me.” And then it happened, something that I was not expecting: a fountain of pee shot into the air. Jeeze, could this day get any worse? Josh, with a load off his mind, was visibly enjoying his freedom, his little legs kicking in glee—well, let’s face it, how would you like to walk around all day with a cowpat stuck to your bum?
Through the gagging and the heaving, I was managing to clean his bum, when the telephone rang. “You just stay there,” I instructed Josh, keeping one hand firmly on his tummy, as I reached for the phone.
“Hi, it’s me,” my sister said. By the sounds of her happy, slightly slurred voice, she’d had a pre-dinner sherry. “Just thought I would call and see how things are going.”
“Oh, it’s all tickety-boo here.” My response sounded more sarcastic than I’d planned, but hopefully Wendy’s one sherry had numbed her perception.
“Sorry, Polly, this is a really bad line, you sound muffled. Perhaps it’s being overseas.”
Yes, the Croft’s Original had kicked in. I had forgotten the furthest Wendy had dared venture on her travels was Jersey, and then she had worried about drinking the water, and if the food would be different. After all, Jersey had French connections. Fighting to take my mask off, my towel fell over my face in the process. My hair now felt like cardboard, from not washing all of the food out.
“So I thought I would just say goodnight to my little munchkin.”
My heart skipped a beat as I looked around frantically. Josh had disappeared off his changing mat. “He’s not here, because…” Come on, think, Polly think, what would Wonder Mum say? I had now jumped up searching for my nephew under cushion covers, behind the sofa, “…because, he’s already asleep. You know, after a full day playing with his aunt Polly, the little darling is knackered.”
“Oh, bless his little cotton sock. So give him a big kiss from me when you see him.”
“Oh, I certainly will. ‘Bye,” I said, and abruptly ended the phone call.
I scanned the room for the little fellow—well—he could hardly have gone far, but in the next few minutes he’d made it far enough to make my lounge look like a war zone. There was a mighty crash, and the tower of CDS fell to the floor, followed by a chortle. I dashed over to find Josh, crawling over Steve’s pride collection, making his way towards my bookcase. Before I had a chance to stop him, he began pulling out my cherished books. He picked up my treasured copy of Little Women, and began sucking the cover. In all the excitement, and nappyless, I could not help and smile as Josh peed on Steve’s autographed copy of Tony Jacklin’s autobiography.
 

This story can also be found in
Life’s Unexpected Adventures Anthology Volume One
 
 
 

 

Spooky Halloween Reads from Melange Books.



Spellbound 2011  


Spellbound at Midnight by Isabelle Kane & Audrey Tremaine
In the sultry Big Easy, Viole Godin is hired to restore Magnolia Place, an antebellum mansion which is crumbling under a mysterious curse. Marie Verret and her dangerously attractive grandson, Lucien, believe Viole is the key to ending the curse one magical Halloween night.

Room 1309.5 by John M. Mecom
Inspired by the works of Poe and Stephen King, Room 1309.5 is a story of revenge and despair. It is the author's first story to be published and received honorable mention in the Fifth Annual Writer's Digest Popular Fiction Awards.

Mansion of Nightmares by Walt Trizna
A mysterious mansion, long abandoned, harbors a past that claims those who enter. Then one day, by a stroke of luck, an intruder survives and uncovers its secret.

Ghost Taxi by Joanna Foreman
A man drowns heading for freedom in America, but his ghost is trapped. Washed up on the beach, the ghost is an illegal alien, not allowed to cross the street into Miami. A homeless man and a vacationing tourist search for his wife so the ghost can possess her.

Uncle Vernon by Jenny Twist
There's something very peculiar about Uncle Vernon. Nobody knows what he does in the cellar. But he's quite harmless, really. Isn't he?

Half Seen, Half Hidden by John Steiner
Nine dead. One missing. No suspects and no leads. What happened in the cabin outside Wilson Wyoming? Where and who is Mason Oliver? Deep within ourselves rests a greater mystery. Half Seen, Half Hidden traces the last three days of Mason Oliver and nine hitchhikers. Offering them shelter, Mason takes them to a secluded cabin. There they all sense the others aren't quite the strangers they seemed, and that they hold something extraordinary in common.

Telltale Signs by Tori L Ridgewood
Don't stay in the Dark Lake Museum after sunset! But Kate Elliot has a deadline to meet. Working overtime, she realizes she's not alone in the creepy old mansion...

The Origin of Fear by Tara Fox Hall
Four college friends mount an expedition to Latham's Landing-an abandoned island estate infamous for mysterious deaths-to gather pictures and inspiration for a thesis on the origin of fear.

Buy Ebook & Paperback:  Amazon

Paperback:  LULU

Genres

Holiday – Halloween Anthology Erotic

Heat Level: 4

Bloody Hot

Frequent, explicit love scenes described using graphic and direct language.
 
 
 
 
All Hallow's Evil
A John Seraph Mystery - #0.5
Before Family Ties, before Family Plots, John Seraph was an ordinary college student at Buffalo State College, until Halloween night when he came face-to-face with the Headless Rider of Buffalo State College. Now John needs to stop the Rider before he kills.
 
* Pumpkin image featured in cover art is used courtesy of Adam Smith @ www.smiththepumpkincarver.com - Check out his amazing work!
Buy
Genres
Mystery Suspense Thriller Short Holiday – Halloween Series
Heat Level: 0
The Corpulent Chiropteran
Wally, a reluctant vampire, faces a lonely life until he meets Bernice, but the evil Estrella has other ideas.
Buy
Genres
Holiday – Halloween Short Vampire
 Heat Level: 2 Simmering  Some love scenes. These are more sensual then graphic.
 
 
 

 


New Releases From Satin Romance



Mi Amor by Randi Perrin

There is no statute of limitations on the law of attraction.

Nine years ago, Crystal worked as a bartender at a dive in the middle of nowhere, Tennessee. The only good thing about her life was Johnny, the cute singer who played eighties covers until way after closing time. Unfortunately, daydreams about Johnny's chocolate eyes passed the time, but they didn’t get her out of that town.

Now she’s a workaholic defense attorney in Nashville. When she gets dragged out for a night of fun against her will, she’s surprised to run into Johnny. She’s even more surprised when he remembers her from nearly a decade before.

Can she kindle that romance that always burned deep down within her, or will the pressures of both their lives tear them apart?

Can he save her from herself or is she destined to live in the shadow of her failures for good?

BUY FROM


Genre: Contemporary Romance | Novella

Pink Satin Romance Sensual


Ghosts of Past Loves by Nell DuVall

Love for their surviving spouses hold two spirits captive. Without corporeal bodies, how can phantoms influence their former spouses to live a full life and to love again?

Vic’s beloved wife Angie dies leaving him bereft and lost. Convinced he could never find another woman to love, he tries to drown his sorrows, but after six months, still heartbroken, he throws himself into his work.

Susan’s husband Jeff dies in a tragic car accident. His one regret is leaving her alone. She’s a survivor, but he knows she needs someone to love. Alone, she focuses on work and erasing all traces of Jeff.

Meanwhile, the spirits try to push Vic and Susan together, but it’s a difficult task when ghosts have no body or voice.


Genre: Paranormal Romance

Pink Satin Romance Sensual


Frog Chrous by Francesca May

Bella thinks she's sailing into paradise with the man of her dreams. How wrong could she be?

Bella is living and working on the glorious island of Bermuda, running away from a bad break up. When she meets the devilishly handsome Dante there's an undeniable spark between them but she's wary and keeps him at arms length.

A chain of unexpected events throw Dante and Bella together as they deliver the 'Black Orchid’ yacht back to its home on the Eastern Sea Board. She finds the Bermudian impossible to resist but will her decision to fall into his arms be something she will live to regret?


Genre: Romantic Thriller

Pink Satin Romance Sensual

New Releases From Melange Books




The Great Smoky Mountain Bank Job

and other Sam Jenkins Mysteries


When your high school classmate shows up on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted List, can your police career get any more interesting? Prospect, Tennessee’s police chief Sam Jenkins handles a cold case robbery-homicide as a favor to a beautiful treasury agent and clears the forty-three year old mystery of THE GREAT SMOKY MOUNTAIN BANK JOB.

In MURDER IN A WISH-BOOK HOUSE, Sam investigates the most grisly killing of his career. Then, in V IS FOR…VITAMIN?, he works with an eighty-four year old partner to solve a suspicious death in a nursing home where all the suspects are well beyond their prime.

Hollywood meets the Smokies in FATE OF A FLOOZY when an academy award winner is murdered during her love affair with a much younger man. And HURRICANE BLOW UP and THE BUTLERS DID IT pits Jenkins against some very lethal characters when he tackles eastern European hoods who intend on causing mayhem in Prospect, and bank robbers who flee to the far corners of southern Appalachia to escape capture.

Buy From


Genres

Mystery Anthology Series

 Heat Level: 1 Sweet
Love scenes are not consummated, or if the love scenes are consummated details are not given.


Going All In


Three mismatched suburban couples, Steve and Katie, Marty and Erin, and Scarlett Three mismatched suburban couples, Steve and Katie, Marty and Erin, and Scarlett and C. Thomas have been neighbors and friends for years. During a pummeling Connecticut Nor’Easter, the members of the bored triptych engage in a friendly game of Texas Hold’em in front of the fire over more than a few bottles of Merlot. The impromptu get-together eventually leads to the institution of regular alcohol-driven, bi-weekly poker nights.

One evening on a lark, someone suggests an alternate payout – instead of pocket change, the winner may choose a player (other than his or her spouse) with whom to spend the night. The proposition takes shape, but complications arise as these things will.

All too quickly, friendships are strained and relationships begin to crumble. Lies are told, truths are exposed, and feelings are hurt. In the end, can anyone bear the weight of this wanton self-indulgence? They are six fully consenting adults, and after all, it’s only a game. Or is it?

Buy From  


Genres

Mainstream Fiction Suspense

 Heat Level:3 Boiling
Sensual, yet more explicit love scenes, and the language may be more graphic and direct.


Menagerie of Shadow

The Collector - Book Three


Beathan, the half-fairy, is free of St. Thomas Prison, thanks to the valiant rescue efforts of Philip and Alayna. However, with a trace in Philip’s blood, The Collectors Guild is hot in pursuit.

Separated during a skirmish with Collectors in the forests of Transylvania, Philip and Alayna struggle not only to find one another but also to survive the deadly circumstances thrown their way.

Matters are further complicated by the arrival of an acquaintance, someone familiar both with them and the treacherous region of Transylvania.

In the end, science and magic are mixed, loyalty is tested, and difficult questions are asked.

Can they discover a way to free Philip of the trace?

Will Alayna even survive?

And most of all, will they find their way back to each other?

BUY FROM


Genres

Paranormal Thriller

Heat Level: 0


Dead Man in the Harbour

Detective Robichauld Mysteries #1


When one woman kills another, it falls to one to uncover why ... even in wartime.

The job was hard enough since Halifax became the focal point as the major staging area for the convoys supplying the war effort in England. Robichaud had his hands full dealing with the influx of people looking for work, foreign merchantmen looking for distractions from the perils of convoy duty and servicemen waiting transport across the Atlantic. Compounding his headaches was the growing shortages for affordable housing and the prohibitions on liquor sales in the city.

Now he had a murder to deal with.

The dead man with a hole in his head was fished from the water just outside the anti-submarine nets by a local fishing boat. His name was Denny Cafferty, a suspected IRA soldier who fled Ireland and the British Special Branch.

Robichaud and his partner, Pete Duncan, would soon find themselves up to their necks with more murders and a homicidal German spy.

BUY FROM


Genres

WWII War Thriller  Suspense Mystery

Heat Level: 3 Boiling
Sensual, yet more explicit love scenes, and the language may be more graphic and direct.

 


Kiling John The Baptist

A Nicholas Branson Novel #2


The gruesome murder of a U.S. presidential aide. A secret so terrible it will change the world. Can Nicholas Branson and Jessica Jones discover the awful truth in time to save a persecuted religious group from extinction? Or will they be thwarted by a megalomaniacal pope and an ultra-secretive U.S. governmental force?

BUY FROM


Genres  

Thriller Series

Heat Level: 0


Wednesday, October 11, 2017

New Releases for Satin Romance




Beer Run Beau by Jody Vitek
Returning to Minnesota after a decade in Chicago, Allie Shepard is committed to helping her ailing grandmother. Introduced to Jackson Weber at a New Year’s Eve party, her beer buns win over his daughter’s taste buds and his sweet kiss under the mistletoe wins over her long-chilled heart.

Chili Warmed Her Heart by Nancy Pennick
Kass Walker is a busy marketing executive living in Chicago. She doesn’t have time to date, relying on an app to do it for her. When an old high school crush steps back into her life, he brings up old memories of what could have been. Unexpected feelings rise to the surface. Will her well-guarded secret finally be exposed?

Miss Evergreen’s Plum Pudding Surprise by Amy Hahn
Miss Evergreen Cunning fell in love with Captain Pershing Ganville the day they contrived a prank involving flaming plum pudding and firecrackers. Now, she’s a woman dreaming of marriage and he’s a wounded soldier. Evergreen’s plan: bake plum pudding to unleash memories of their childhood, unlocking and healing Pershing’s heart.

A Chicken Tale by Sue Gesing
Molly Gilson is not a happy woman. Her life seems dull and she fears she is losing the connection with her husband. Then Molly sees an ad for the house of their dreams. There’s only one problem. It’s in New Mexico and she lives in Ohio. Can Molly make a tremendous move and hope her husband comes along? Or will she start a new life with new friends and a possible love interest? One little chicken dish may make the difference.

Tea and Scones by Gisele Margaux
Rhea knows she’s not good marriage material. With a love of tea strong enough to risk her social standing, love seems impossible. That is, until she meets Jasper.

Prepared with a Pinch of Stardust by J. A. Noelle
After sharing a childhood filled with dreams of being a chef and a writer, Megan and Jake find true romance to be much more difficult than the puppy love of their youth. When career ambitions begin pulling the two lovers in opposite directions, will their chemistry be enough to save the dreams of the future they built together?

Stir-Fried Love by Nancy Pirri
Hayley Sook Park is instantly attracted to Mark Arcand. Mark is equally attracted to Hayley. Besides, he’s never tasted better cooking than her Korean culinary delights at her family’s restaurant, Kimchi House. Can two people from very different worlds find love together and acceptance from their families?

Genre: Contemporary Romance | Anthology

Pink Satin Romance Sensual
 
 
 
 
The Nature of Entangled Hearts by Emma Hartley
Can love survive the ultimate betrayal?
Rivals, Galen Odgers and Cam Fawst have shared many things. Gifted athletes and favored sons of Eagle River Wisconsin, both have been quarterbacks for the same legendary football team, the Warriors. Each was raised by a strong woman, and both love the same beautiful girl, Kjersten Solheim.
Though they despise each other, they are inexorably linked. But there is a secret about one of them, a secret that a mother took to her grave, that a high school coach swore never to reveal, and one whose consequences continue to reverberate.
Can love survive the ultimate betrayal and the revelation of a decades old secret?
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Pink Satin Romance Sensual
 
Under a Scottish Sky by Pamela Q. Fernandes
Seeking stars, finding love!
Michelle Reyes is a strong, guilt-ridden woman. Traveling as a nurse from her home in Manila to Scotland to see the stars, she meets Adrian, the son of her patient. She sees Adrian as arrogant, unforgiving and cruel. But is Adrian more than he appears to be?
Genre: Contemporary | Multicultural | Interracial Romance Novella
Pink Satin Romance Sensual
 
 
 
 
 
 


Monday, October 9, 2017

Showcasing 3 Snippets from - No Strings Attached By Joanne Rawson

SNIPPET 1 – NO STRINGS ATTACHED
It would almost be about a month, yes a month ago now. I arrived home from work, a pile of mail greeting me on my doormat. Sifting through the usual bank statement, household bills, and a whimper at the balance of my credit card bill, I winced at the next letter, a thick cream-colored expensive envelope, striking thick black letters, bearing just my solitary name, MISS LAURA LEE.
It suddenly dawned on me; it was the month of May. Inwardly I groaned, knowing that by the end of September, I would have a line of these cream cards, embossed with gold letters on my mantelpiece, inviting one guest and me.
Wedding invitations are supposed to bring a smile to your face, with thoughts of a happy occasion that two people would be joining in Holy Matrimony, publicly declaring their love for each other. But for me, it was just confirmation that at thirty three, I’d spent all my time and efforts on my career, and before you get any preconceived ideas, I’m no super model, fashion editor of a glossy magazine, or a world renowned surgeon, I’m a plain Jane, boring auditor for a large chain of bars and restaurants, who has fought her way through a world of male bureaucracy, thus enabling me to buy my own house, and filling it with cherished belongings, in the process having forgotten my main cherished possession, a man to share it all with. It seems I would spend a lifetime receiving invites to Miss Laura Lee and guest.
There had been one man, three years ago—Robert—that after years together, I thought would be a lifelong possession. However, my friend, (now ex friend) had swept him from under my nose, like a professional bargain hunter at the first day of the Next sale. You know what I’m talking about, ladies, don’t you? Having admired it for weeks, but you knew it was way out of your price range. Then for hours you stood in the queue waiting, knowing exactly what you want, and then, when you finally see it on the rack, you can’t believe that it is still there. You take a minute to admire it, knowing it fits perfect, makes you feel good, and then, before you know it, some silly bitch snatches it from your reach. You also know bloody well, that in a few weeks, she will toss it aside, unwanted, and soiled. Well, that is exactly what Marsha Doyle did to me, the bitch. She’d always wanted everything I had, and when she finally got her perfect manicured claws in Robert, she played with him like a cat with a mouse.
So here I am, a month later, and only three days to my cousin’s big event. Not that I’m counting. Normally such trivialities as a wedding would be pushed to the back of my mind, if it hadn’t been for the phone call.
* * * *
Nine thirty, I was already an hour late, as I trudged down the street, my Gucci loafers pinching my toes, bearing a blister on my heel the size of a boiled egg, (another disastrous first day of a sale bargain.) Hitching my laptop bag back onto my shoulder, and my handbag slipping off the other, I had no hands free; my sports bag in one, and my heavy briefcase ripped rivets into my fingers of the other, I saw Adam Ford leaning back on the wall of the pub, smoking a cigarette, yet just another misfortune to my already stressed morning. Although Adam and I had been with the company for the same amount of time, our relationship consisted of a nod to each other as we passed each other in the office, all his communication via text or e-mail, actual words not being Adam’s forte.
It wasn’t poor Adam’s fault he was as quiet as a church mouse, and didn’t have the pizzazz like the iffy Chinese I had last night, being the first reason I was late for work. My red dragon had certainly breathed a ring o’ fire, spending most of the night perched on the loo, only to run out of bog paper! (I’ll not go into detail only to say the Subway wrapper from my meatball sub, reminded me of Izal toilet paper from my school days.)
Reason number two. Tentatively making my way to my car, parked on the main road outside my house, my backside on fire, I walked like I had a red hot poker stuffed up my bum, only to find some stupid idiot had banged into my front wing. Now I’m no mechanic but the way the wheel arch had crumpled into my wheel, I knew I was not going to get very far.
This was quickly followed by reason three; having to take public transport that I’d not had to do since college, forgetting they actually didn’t take you to your destination, which meant I would have to WALK the extra twenty minutes by foot! Ringing my dad, asking if he would look at the car and call out George, our trusty mechanic, only to be told dad had nipped out with the dogs, but mum would pass on the message.
Then crisis hit big time; reason number four. Mum announced that dad had booked us into The Chase hotel for Friday and Saturday night of my cousin’s wedding, and did I need two rooms or one for my guest?
“I was very surprised that you are taking someone. Really, Laura, you should have said, and I felt such a fool when Aunt Alison asked if it was a male friend. So tell me, who is it?” she said in her ‘why am I the last to know voice.’
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I whispered into my phone.
By mistake, I must have ticked the wrong box. There had been no hidden agenda. I hadn’t been on a date in months, and sad to say not a sniff of male testosterone in over a year.
While I listened to my mum twitter on about how nice it would be if her daughter was like Karen, her friend’s daughter, and how more like sisters they were, I wondered if I could let her down gently by saying I had made a huge mistake and there was no hidden lover, be it male or female in my life. When I caught the tail end of how she had bumped into Robert, (my ex,) and how he was so looking forward to seeing me at the wedding, my blood froze in my veins. On all accounts Robert was under the impression I was living a life of solitary confinement.
“How dare he,” I hissed down the phone. “After all this time, he swans back, from God knows where in the world, and assumes that I’m still broken-hearted? The arrogance of the man. Why the hell was he invited to Joanna’s wedding? No doubt to bloody humiliate me.”
“Laura, stop being so damned melodramatic, I hardly call Plymouth the other side of the world, and Robert has to be there since he’s Harvey’s best man.”
I had forgotten that that was how Robert and I had met. Joanna, and I being the same age, had met Robert and Harvey, while at Nottingham University. Joanna and Harvey, had concentrated on their careers, and building a relationship before tying the knot, whereas I had concentrated so much on my career, I was oblivious to Marsha digging her claws into Robert. Well he wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of thinking I had turned into some dried up, bitter spinster.
“Two rooms, Mum,” I said quickly as my stop was coming up.
My heart was pounding. Why had I opened my big mouth? Well, I know why, thanks to my mum setting the record straight, telling Robert that I did have a secret someone and we would all get to meet him at the wedding. So now what? I had no little black book of men I could call on. Where the heck was I going to find someone I could pass off as my boyfriend in just three days? Quickly I texted my friend Lisa, who had a black book as thick as war and peace, my fingers frantically punched away:
Help! Need a man for Friday & Saturday to be my date for wedding, no strings attached. Robert will be there! Call me A.S.A.P. Laura. Xxxxx
SNIPPET 2 NO STRINGS ATTACHED
We walked to the sandwich bar, discussing our findings. It occurred to me that this was the most Adam and I had ever spoken to each other. I found his voice very soothing, very clear. If my Mum were here, she would be gagging at the bit to ask him if he was seeing anyone.
Mum had a thing about well-spoken men. “Did you hear how lovely he spoke? You can tell he was brought up well. Mark my words, he will have good manners and be the perfect husband,” was Mum’s philosophy of finding your ideal man.
Once inside the sandwich bar, I gave Adam my order, phone and lap top, and bolted for the loo. After a good fifteen minutes, I arrived back to see Adam perched on a stool in the window on the phone, no my phone I knew it was mine by the pink casing.
“What the hell?” I snatched it from his hand. Who is this?” I barked.
“And hello to you too, Laura,” came Lisa’s cheery voice. “A fine way to greet me seeing as I have spent all my hard earned profits on phone calls for you this morning, trying to dig you out of the poop.”
Lisa owned her own very chic and exclusive fashion boutique in a trendy Mews in Nottingham City centre. If anyone could find me a date, it was her. Not only had she dated every eligible bachelor in Nottinghamshire, and worked her way through Derbyshire, she was now stretching further afield to Leicestershire. She was the Who’s Who of men.
“Well I have some good news and some bad news, what will it be?”
“I could do with good news first.” I suddenly became excited. My palms began to sweat, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach, desperately wondering whom Lisa could have hooked me up with. Was it that barrister, Austin Templar? Now he was cute, and wasn’t it him whose Dad was a member of parliament? Ooooh… what about that Earl of somewhere, with the big stately home in the Peak District? He had the body of Brad Pitt in Troy and that gorgeous, come to bed face of Patrick Dempsey. Miles away thinking about Earls and members of parliament, I quite forgot to listen to Lisa’s good news until her next words startled me out of my musings.
“It may be small and more reddish than pink, but it fits quite snugly. I did try it out first, but it’s only for the weekend.”
I became very confused, and as you can imagine my mind was working overtime, wondering who or what was small, and more reddish than pink and fit snugly? I wondered if Lisa had gone beyond her call of duty in finding me a date. “Lisa what the hell are you talking about?’
“The dress I have sorted out for the wedding. Were you not listening?”
“Of course I was,” I lied. “I’m sure it will be fine. So what is the good news?”
“That was the good news, the bad news is… I’m sorry, Laura,” and then she mumbled, “I can’t find you a date.”
My heart raced in panic. “But you know thousands of men! You’re telling me not one of them said yes?”
I could sense Lisa’s embarrassment even down the phone—that awkward silence, the deep sigh as she thought of comforting words. “To tell you the truth, Laura, and I think you really should know, everyone I spoke to said the same. Firstly, to which I had to agree, two days notice is very short. All the people I know have their diaries booked up weeks, even months in advance.” Lisa endured another awkward silence before she continued. “Now what I’m about to say, please take it as constructive criticism, not from me. Laura, they said you are a beautiful and intelligent woman, which you are, but you come over as a little frosty.”
The reality of what Lisa said hit home; is that what men really thought about me? I couldn’t breathe; my heart was lodged in my throat, making it hard for me to swallow. “Frosty?”
“Look, Laura, don’t take it personally. Just because you wear your work suits on a date that conceal your boobs because you never have time to get home, and make an effort, or that you analyse a menu in a restaurant working out how much profit …..”
I gasped, “Do I really do that?”
“Oh, my god, I’ve said too much. Look, Laura, go to this wedding, hold your head up high and say bollocks to Robert, if you want my advice.”
I quickly interrupted, “Really, Lisa, I don’t want your advice, thank you, I’ll be round in the morning to fetch my outfit. Thanks anyway.”
I turned off my phone and took a deep breath. That was perfect, bloody perfect; apparently, across three shires, I was known as the frosty, smart aleck, who wouldn’t get her tits out for the boys. What made it even more unbearable was Adam had heard the whole bloody conversation.
I turned around to see a big smug smile plastered over his face and I snarled, “What in the word gives you the right to answer my phone?”
“Well, you did give it me, and it just confirmed my suspicions, and half the office, that Laura Lee is the Ice Queen and can’t get a date, even for a wedding. I bet you never have a second date either, do you?”
“How dare you?”
He, of course, was right, not quite but nearly. My problem was, I enjoyed the odd casual date, even the odd one night stand, maybe a second date, but we all know about the third date, and that freaks me out! A third usually means they wanted sex, and once that has happened, normal, honest guys, would expect at least a few months of commitment. However, the third date problem was not an issue, I’d never got past the first date, and now I knew why. God knows I wanted commitment too, but after Robert, the next guy had to be the right one.
I could feel the colour rushing to my cheeks as Adam laughed, pointing his finger at me. ‘Oh I am so right,” he gloated. I can see it written all over your face.’
My embarrassment suddenly turned to anger. “I don’t understand you. In all the years we have worked in the same office; you couldn’t bring yourself to utter two words to me. All of a sudden you think, after intercepting one phone call, which I might say is beyond rude, that I’m going to bear all to you about my personal life?” I grabbed my laptop and left.
Marching down the street, I heard Adam running behind me, shouting words that brought my self-esteem to an all-time low. “You know what you need is a male escort. Seeing as you’d be paying for his services, he would have no biased feelings, and ideally, for you, no strings attached.”
I carried on walking, trying not to make eye contact with the sniggering passers-by. Adam had a point. I did text those exact words to Lisa, “No Strings Attached.” Had I really dropped to that level, paying wannabe actors or even worse, waxy looking, out of work models, to take me out? No, this wasn’t for me.
SNIPPET 3 NO STRINGS ATTACHED
Mid-evening, our mission for the day completed, the area manager shook both our hands, congratulating us on another corrupt manager that bites the dust.
Adam opened the door for me and with a roguish smile he said, “Ladies first.”
Funny, how he had changed during the afternoon, Adam had almost been civil, making light conversation instead of plugging into his iPod. He was almost likeable, almost.
I went to say my goodbyes when he took me by surprise with his next words.
“So what do you fancy, Laura, wine at The Grape Vine, or hammered at Ruskis?”
“You drink at Ruskis?” This was a very trendy and expensive vodka bar in the centre of town.
“Yes, and why shouldn’t I?”
I choose my words carefully. “You seem like a pint of real ale in your local, kind of a guy.”
Adam squeezed my shoulder, and shook his head. “See, I’ve learned something else about you today, Laura. You judge a book by its cover.”
For a second time today, he had been spot on with his assumptions. I did judge people, mainly men, by their looks, and I’m sorry but my street cred was already hanging by the thread. The last thing I needed was to be seen with a sixties throwback nerd.
“To tell you the truth, Adam, what I really fancy is a long soak in a hot bath, with a glass of red wine.”
“Sure, I’m up for that. Normally that would be a fourth date kind of thing for me, but hell, let’s cut with the formalities and get right to the nitty-gritty.”
“No, sorry I mean on my own!” I hope the look of disgust didn’t actually show on my face, so I smiled. Well, a joke from Adam was a first. At least I knew now he did have a bit of a sense of humour.
“Oh, well, can’t blame a man for trying, I suppose. I’ll just drive you home.”
“Please, there is no need.”
“Laura, look at you. You’ve got your laptop, you’re wearing Gucci shoes and if I’m not mistaken, an Armani suit? You’re just asking to be mugged in this area of town.”
I’m wondering how can a man who buys his suits and shoes at Save The Children knew Armani or Gucci when books and covers came to mind. “That would be very nice, thank you.”
Soon we pulled onto Lilac Avenue, and I told Adam my house was third on the left. Slowly we came to a stop outside, the engine died.
“Well, this is it.” I pointed to my three-story town house.
Leaning across me, Adam bent forward to look through the passenger window. “Wow, this is yours?” At my nod, he added. “It’s very nice.”
I felt there was little else to say. Adam and I had spoken earlier about where we lived so the conversation seemed to have been covered. I was more concerned about how uneasy I felt that his hand was resting on my thigh, and so close to me, his hair brushed my nose. There seemed to be an awkward silence. I knew asking him in for a drink was the polite thing to do, after all he’d asked first after leaving The Merry Men.
“Seeing as I’m off tomorrow, I suppose we’ll see each other at the office on Monday.” I tried to fumble with the door handle to make a quick getaway.
”Oh!” Adam turned his head, his nose now within an inch of mine. “Okay,” came a despondent reply.
“Unless…, you would like to come in for a drink?”
“That would be lovely.” He grinned.
Once inside, I pointed to the lounge area of my open-plan ground floor. Make yourself at home. What can I get you, beer or wine?”
“Wine would be great, thanks.”
“Red or white?” I turned to see Adam literally taking me up on my invitation, slinging his jacket onto the sofa, followed by his tie, and to my horror kicking off his shoes.
“Red.” He started to wander around the lounge, picking things up, looking at them, and putting them back down.
As I busied myself in the kitchen, with glasses and wine, I found my hands shaking as I tried to unscrew the bottle. Was it Adam getting intimate with my possessions, or quite simply just the presence of Adam, here in my home, that I tried to keep so separate from my business life. This was ludicrous. Why was I acting like it was the first time I’d invited a man back for a drink? I’d done it countless times, but then again I had an ulterior motive with them, to get their trousers off, and then they could fiddle with my knick-knacks as much as they wanted.
Adam broke my train of thought as to how long it had actually been since I’d had a man in my house, let alone without their trousers.
“To be honest with you, Laura, I assumed you to be a chintz and pink kind of a woman, but this ethnic theme you have, I really like it.”
Under normal circumstances, this would lead me into my chat up line, of traveling Asia, when at university, each possession coming with a story, and how even when I can, I go back and visit still. Telling tales of blue cloudless skies, romantic white sandy beaches, and the serenity of getting lost in the mysticism of temples, wafting pungent smells of incense and exotic spices, never fails at getting the carnal juices of my prey flowing. Well, there was no way I was going to let that happen tonight.
“One day, I will tell you about my travels, Laura. I’ll tell you about Thailand, Malaysia, and Indonesia, romantic white sandy beaches, cloudless blue skies, the aroma of incense and spices.”
I nearly dropped the two glasses of wine. Oh, my God, he had the same chat up line as me! “Yes I know I’ve been there too, I tell the same tale.” My face flushed, and the obvious shake of my hand as I passed him his glass, he knew.
Brazenly he chuckled, turned, and began to rifle through my cd collection. “I can’t believe it. We have two things in common, the same chat-up lines, and Michael Buble.” He held up a cd. “Do you mind?”
“No, not at all.” I willed him not to choose Michael’s Love Songs album; this little puppy of love was only ever dusted off the shelf as my foreplay tool. But that would be even more of a coincidence… and there was Buble crooning from my cd at seduction level, his Love Songs Album.
Up until now, it had never crossed my mind; my heart was beating like a racehorse galloping the last furlong. Noooo, surely not, not Adam; he couldn’t have been expecting more than a glass of wine, could he? Cans of worms opening in my mind. Refusing his advances, I’d proved I was the ice queen, to partake he would think I was desperate. Oh, god, and the uncomfortable encounters afterwards, in the office after expectations that one of us would ring first, and neither of us do. Then I’m not even going to open the can on judging each other on technical merit. And horror of horrors, I realised I’d not shaved my legs in over a week.
Holy mother, Adam had turned down the dimmer switch. “Yes, that’s nice. So we have wonderful wine and music, so…” He came and sat close to me on the sofa, draped his arm around the back, and I could feel his fingers lightly touching my neck. I tried to swallow but it felt like I had a huge lump of bread stuck in my throat. “Tell me, Laura, who is this Robert that has hurt you so badly, and do you think you can be fixed?”
Well, hello, kick a girl when she’s already down why don’t you? Three years trying to mend a broken-heart, by the man I really loved, and today finding out I had been shunned by three counties, and here was Professor Ford, trying to psychoanalysing me? Way to go Adam.
In my anger, it all came flooding from me like my Red Dragon Chinese last night.
“I was devastated, yes, at finding Robert in bed with Marsha, but what hurt me so badly, was what he said. ‘To be honest, Laura, you’re not worth the three hour commute for a bonk. If I really loved you then maybe, but if you really must know, you’re no fun in the sack.’ It’s one thing to be cheated on, while your friend still lays there as cool as a cucumber in your boyfriend’s bed. But to find the reason the love of your life was finishing it was because I was no fun at sex, well that was more than humiliating, and dammed well spiteful. So, there you go, Adam, can you fix that for me? Or will it just be a laugh with the men from work around the coffee machine?”
Adam fidgeted awkwardly with his glasses, shit. Shit, shit, shit. I really had gone too far this time. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. It’s just Robert is under the illusion that I live the life of a bloody nun. Then Mum tells him I’m seeing someone, and when I turn up on Saturday with nobody, it will add more ammunition for his firing guns.”
We sat in silence for a bit. Adam gawked at me, then he picked up his drink, downed it in one, and refilled it. He turned to me, with a caring smile, took my hand and softly said, “I think I can fix this.”
I was actually touched by his kindness. At least he hadn’t made a dash for the door, thinking I was some kind of nut job. “Thank you and I mean this in all sincerity. If it’s taken me three years and I can’t, I doubt you can.”
“I can and I will. Laura I would be honoured to be your guest.”
I begin to laugh. “Are you mad? It’s bizarre. Do you really think people would believe we were a couple?” Then I realise Adam is serious, as his smile slipped away. What the hell was I supposed to do now?
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