Book, Domestic Violence, Intimate Partner Violence, Mental Health

Sneak Preview

Ever since I started my business, my books, present and future have, and will, center around children. I love children. I love to hear the belly laughs and the giggles. I love to watch them grow and learn to discern the difference between right and wrong and develop the inner consciences that help to make them do the right things. In fact, that’s where my logo comes from: Do the Write Thing! Little play on words, there.

On this blog, however, I address adults and write words of inspiration, health and wellness, personal, business, and (some) opinion pieces. I had never planned on writing a full length book, but I was recently led to do so and have accepted the request. Not too long ago, as some of you may remember, I wrote a series on sexual assault and domestic violence, something that affected me deeply and has stayed on my heart ever since I worked as a Forensic Nurse Examiner. Shortly after the articles were published I received a message that asked “Will you tell my story?” There was no way I could turn away from that message. It has been a jarring experience for both the survivor recollecting these events, and me, as the writer, but we’re doing it. Interestingly enough, I had met her 13 years ago but she didn’t remembered my name. When I told her who I was, there was no going back for either of us. We felt it was God who brought us together, providence if you wish. I’m trying hard to get this work finished; I would say I am close to being half-done. I am going to give you a sneak preview of the book and I hope you like it, as much as you can “like” situations such as this. Remember, NO ONE has to go through this alone. I’m going to include links to the series as well, in case you hadn’t read the articles and want to. I’ll let everyone know when the book comes out. Right now, I am in search of an agent to help get this one off the ground. I didn’t have one before, but I think it’s time.

‘Til Death Do Us Part (Tentative Title)

A true story of toxic love, alcohol, drugs, and abuse

It was a perfect evening, she thought, as the waiter at her favorite Italian restaurant took their orders. She had even been able to carve out some time in the day to have her hair and nails done before dinner. She was way overdue for that. She chose a nail color to complement the new dress from Sax she had just purchased. It seemed there just weren’t enough hours in the day to run her cosmetics business, get to the gym, and run the kids around to their multiple activities. They were so talented that she and her husband just couldn’t deny them the chance to be the best they could be, and they were. Of course, that required even more time to rush around to special lessons, team practices, competitions, concerts, and wherever else their superb talents enabled them to participate. That night was special because it was her birthday, her husband was home from his business trip, and the kids had all agreed to give up one night for the celebration. The three of them had even agreed to dig out their khaki’s and clean, neatly ironed dress shirts for the occasion. 

As he sipped his Dom Perignon, her husband couldn’t take his eyes off his beautiful family, especially her. A perfect manicure. Not a single hair out of place. And that sexy dress…. He could tell her workouts in the gym were paying off. He was so proud of his beautiful, impeccably arranged wife and the three handsome, well-behaved boys surrounding them at the table. 

She caught him looking at her and smiled as their eyes locked. She was so proud of him. Successful businessman, smart, funny, considerate, and not at all hard on the eyes. She was thinking they should have a family picture taken tonight.  

“I said something to you, B____!”

“What?!” Startled, Donna managed to get out the word as Max’s sharp admonition pierced the bubble inside which her fantasy was unfolding. “What did I do”, Donna wondered. “Did I leave the wrong clothes out for him or order the wrong drink for him”? Her mind rapidly scanned everything she could think of that would have raised his ire. 

“You really are stupid, you know. I told you I don’t like Italian.” 

Max’s words stung as she could feel the blood slowly creeping up her face, flushing her complexion with embarrassment as she tried to suppress the tears that were forming in her eyes. Or was it fear? Their son shifted uncomfortably in his chair, looking down to avoid the probing eyes of the other customers. Alex was all too familiar with this scenario, but it never got any easier, especially in public for all to witness.

As Donna’s fantasy faded from her mind’s eye, she forced herself back into the fire of reality.  This was her reality, not that perfect family at the other table, but why couldn’t it be like that for her? 

“I’m sorry”. She apologized. 

Once again, she was taking responsibility for what Max perceived as a failure on her part. Had he told her he didn’t like Italian? Or did he make that up because there was nothing else for him to criticize? These questions summoned up painful childhood memories of abuse, alcohol, drugs and promiscuity. No wonder she allowed herself to be treated this way. It’s all she knew.

Hoping for 1920-1921 publication

Links to Sexual Assault and Domestic Violence Articles