Excerpt
Necrophilia
…The next morning, he was reading his newspaper in the family
room when Beth finally came down from their bedroom and poured
herself a cup of coffee. At least he had the wisdom to make coffee, she
thought. Her head was heavy. She only had two shots of brandy last
night, yet her head was so heavy as if she had consumed a lot more
than two shots; pain was pounding both her temples. So many bad
thoughts lingered in her mind: war, death, incinerated bodies, pain,
anguish, children crying for their killed parents, then, what was that
thought? She admitted to herself that last night she was violated by
her husband.
Beth’s eyes became a fiery red inferno, the crater of a volcano
ready to explode, when she realized what had happened. She turned to
Brad and said, “So, you have reached the point of enjoying necrophilia
these days; you must have been so desperate. You obviously couldn’t
wait until morning.”
He turned and, with a smile, said,
“You looked so attractive, sweetheart, I couldn’t resist.”
Suddenly, the family room became dark, and an explosive anger
overtook her whole body; her eyes darkened, and her heart accelerated
in a frenetic rhythm as if to break out of her chest and run away, burning
everything in its path.
“Of course, you couldn’t resist using your weekend whore, that’s
what you have always done, the two minutes of your pleasure, just a
couple of minutes so you could reach the peak of your manhood; the
thought of how you see lovemaking makes me sick,” she yelled at him.
“Why, sweetheart, why all this today?”
“Don’t sweetheart me! Don’t you ever dare call me your sweetheart
again. Bradley Harrison, I’ve had enough of that. I’ve had enough
of that, hear me? I’m not your sweetheart, nor am I your weekend
whore anymore.”
Brad ducked as if expecting her to throw something at him; he
had never seen her this way. He became apologetic.
“What do you like me to do, Beth?”
(If this excerpt spoke to you, you can find out more about this book in the following links)
