Unfortunately, the day didn't start as I'd planned. DD woke up feeling sick so I couldn't go to the gym. Two hours later she felt better so I dropped her at school then headed to the green grocer for some fresh produce. After that I spent an hour downloading music for my MP3 player only to discover that I had no idea how to get it onto the device from my new computer. (No - I am not so technically adept that I can figure that stuff out).
Enter my son - yeah! He got the music onto the device in three seconds. Seriously - three seconds! So now I must write and take breaks to walk and listen to my newest songs (I go way faster with up tempo music). Word goal here I come!
In the meanwhile, I hope you enjoy another excerpt from Tropic of Trouble:
What the hell was she up to? He held a fist to his mouth and studied her on the
video on his computer. He’d expected the hidden camera to catch her banging some
young stud but after weeks of surveillance, the worst he’d observed was her smoking
inside the house. Something he’d expressly forbidden, but hardly what he’d
anticipated.
That gut feeling he’d been having lately—as if she was up to no good—clawed at
him. He’d put units in their bedroom, the kitchen, the living room. None showed her
doing anything she shouldn’t. Except being the lazy, spoiled bitch she’d always been.
Unless her trysts took her elsewhere. Maybe he ought to hire a private detective to
follow her. No, he didn’t need someone else knowing their secrets, giving them fodder
for blackmail.
Would she have an internet affair? Probably considered herself too highbrow for
something like that. She never let him forget how much better than he she thought
herself, with her hoity-toity pedigree and her privileged upbringing. Bastard father of
hers had never tired of reminding him how she’d lowered herself to marry him. But
he’d put an end to that.
As the video progressed, she seemed nervous suddenly. She stood at her dresser
but kept glancing toward the door as if she were afraid she’d be caught doing
something she shouldn’t. Easing open the top drawer, she lifted out a small black book
and flipped to the middle. Another glance at the door. She took a phone out of her
pocket and called someone.
Damn it!Why hadn’t he bought the camera with audio? She pressed a couple
buttons then returned the cell to her pocket. He stopped the frame, backed it up and
zoomed in. What happened to the pink phone he’d given her? This one was larger and
silver.
His chest tightened and rage coursed through his veins. That lying bitch. Should
have known he couldn’t trust her. Of course, he had known. Otherwise he wouldn’t
have filmed her. He backed up the video to the part where she took out the book. He
froze the frame and enlarged it.
Leaning his head closer, he squinted, made out numbers hand written on the page,
too faint to read. Fighting his instinct to go upstairs, yank her out of bed and beat the
living shit out of her, he merely fisted his hands. If he tipped her off, he might not find
out what she was really up to. He thought she’d learned her lesson the last time she’d
disobeyed him, but apparently she needed more incentive not to fuck with him.
After she woke her lazy ass up tomorrow morning, he’d send her shopping or
something. She loved spending his money now that she had none of her own.
Bitch.
With her gone, he’d search for that silver cell phone and her little black book.
God help her if he learned she was up to no good. He’d kill the bitch for cheating on
him. Whoever she was screwing would pay the price too. No one would make a fool of
him. He’d make them both wish they’d never been born.
2 comments:
I have faith you'll finish your word goal! Just realized that you have a new blog that's just you so I'll be adding it to my blogroll ;)
Thanks, Katie. I figured it was time to jump back in;-)
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