Genre – Erotica
Publication Date – 6/28/14
Length (Pages/# Words) - 6,000
Publisher – Secret Cravings Publishing
Cover Artist – Dawne Domonique
Mary is prepared for the anniversary of a lifetime. Ten years of wonderful memories fill her mind. She can’t wait to see what the next ten will bring. When her plans for early morning seduction fail, her mind jumps to worst case scenarios.
Joe’s attention, focused elsewhere, may be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Will he be able to come up with a good reason for forgetting their anniversary?
As the day continues, will the answers Mary finds leave her in tears? Will she find the next ten years dreams shattered before her? Only Joe holds the answers to the questions her heart asks.
It seemed more and more lately that no matter how hard she tried, he looked right through her. It was infuriating and heart breaking. She'd had enough heartbreak during the past year to last her a lifetime. Her mother had been sick battling cancer all last year. Unfortunately she’d lost the battle. She’d made sure to pass on information to Mary while on her deathbed though.
Something Mary had never seen coming. She was adopted. Her world felt as if she had lost all control.
The adoption information that her mother had left with her will quickly found its way into the trash. Why would she want to find someone who didn't want her? She had enough instances of that in her own home. She did wonder, after a year, if she had reacted too rashly. You never know when you'll need family, and if she met her biological mother maybe she could figure out who she was, inside and out.
Mary plopped herself on the bed and let out a huge rush of air. There was no way Joe hadn’t noticed her outfit. She had bought it specifically for their ten-year anniversary night.
She remembered how she had anxiously awaited this evening and decided that she would make it perfect no matter how she was feeling. Every year on this day, they left the house at four twenty five and drove to the lake where he had romantically declared his undying love and proposed to her. He always hired a horse drawn carriage. The prancing steed would take them from the lake to a lovely candlelit dinner for two. After having one too many glasses of wine and a wonderful meal, they would enjoy a leisurely stroll to the theater. Wicked was currently playing on Broadway, and she couldn’t wait to hear the music that made her soul dance and her heart soar. Re-reading the book several times had her excited, and she knew the night would be perfect.
Then reality reared its ugly head.
Carefully she unlaced her corset and tossed the silky white thong in the corner; it still held the dampness from her unquenched desire.
"I can't believe I wasted my time and effort on this. Sometimes my husband is such a jerk," when she took a look around it dawned on her that she was talking to herself. Another deep breath and swish of hair and she mused, "I guess its okay to talk to myself as long as I don't answer back, huh CC?"
She slipped her silk robe on quickly and snatched the cat from his slumberous repose. He squirmed to free himself but Mary kissed his little nose first. "Don't be like your daddy, at least notice I'm here." She placed the cat gently on the bed and started her morning ritual. Getting ready for work was the last thing she was interested in.
Writing books has been a long time in coming for me. When I was younger, my father and I lived in a town where a kid could run the streets all ‘willy nilly’. When I was old enough to babysit myself I was off and running. To where you may ask, the library. At the time the library was in an old shop on a street in town. The children’s books were in the back room and that was where I spent my days. I was never without an adventure in my hands, and I never failed to finish the summer reading program with books to spare.
My love for reading didn’t stop there. My mother is an avid reader and she acquired most of her books from a exchange shop. You would purchase your books there, and return them for partial credit and get more. One night I was left with a bag of to be returned books. It was a Piers Anthony book, Night Mare to be exact. I devoured that book and any other that he has written. I currently am the proud owner of at least 70 of his books. I’m working toward getting them all, I wish he’d quit writing so quickly.
The writing bug caught me when my 12th grade English teacher wanted to use MY essay to show the class. He put it on projector film and everything. I was so excited. The assignment was to pick a month and write about it. Of course, being the child that I was I had to be difficult about it. The rest of the class chose June, July, April and went on and on about how lovely and warm and all of the fun things you can do. Mine was about December. I still remember the first line (and may have the transparency somewhere in my mess); December spreads her snow-filled wings and covers our world in cold despair.
From that paper on, you couldn’t stop me from writing. I found a few poems I had typed on an actual manual typewriter, and became a poet. I had a recurring nightmare, I wrote it down. I dreamed a dream and if I could remember it (which is harder now that I am older) I wrote that too.
In 2003 I started my first full blown manuscript. I still only have four chapters completed, but I swear I will finish it someday. I guess the short attention span has brought me full circle on writing short stories.
So, I guess that’s where I am today. Waiting for the first query letter to come through and make me a published writer. People ask me if I am a writer, and I firmly believe and tell them YES. I write, so that makes me a writer. I may not be published yet, but I will be.
I absolutely love to get email though sometimes with the scattered mind of a writer it takes a few days to get back to you! So please forgive me if I don’t get back to you right way, but I CERTAINLY will get back to you!
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