Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 52

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“Cheers!”

“To us!”

And they both drink their burning courage, hoping to be able to remain true to themselves and provide each other with all the fulfillment craved.

“To you and I,” whispered Amalia, carefully setting the empty glass on the nightstand by his side of the bed.

“You’re amazing… I can’t believe the way you look, I never dreamt of something quite this spectacular.”

“I like to make an impression.”

“Oh you do… this is the stuff of memories, every boy’s wet dream.”

“How about men? Real men? Since that’s really my target audience…”

“Oh… you’re what we dream of when we say our prayers at night, just before we have to fuck our wives. You’re what keeps us hard, that phantasy which makes life worth living.”

“You do like your clichés…”

For more sample fragments from Parallel Lives, see: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396169

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/parallel-lives-ana-linden/1118140770?ean=2940045563567

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/parallel-lives-7

…. and iBooks, of course.🙂

Weighing The Now

6No, she didn’t want any desert. Yes, she was saying no to the best tiramisu in town. Her daughter raised her eyebrows in disbelief – she had never heard her say no to tiramisu. Occasionally binging on sweets was their thing. Was anything wrong? No, everything was fine, she was just trying to cut back on sweets and eat healthily. After all, her daughter was doing the same for several years, she should understand. After all, the fact that she had just made that decision wasn’t relevant to the matter. More for me, and the daughter winked at her mother as the waitress placed the desert accompanied by two spoons between the two of women.

She watched her daughter obliviously savour her tiramisu. She used to be able to indulge in such calorie bombs, but she learnt not that long ago that such luxuries don’t last for a lifetime. Halfway into her mascarpone delight, her daughter put down the spoon, that was enough. A wave of resentment was coursing through her veins. The younger woman could still enjoy her deserts without worrying… and she could also control he urges. The only way she could stop herself from devouring the whole thing was by not even tasting it.

She used to wear the same size her daughter did. She used to borrow her daughter’s clothes whenever she had a chance, pretending not to notice how much the younger woman hated to have anybody wear her things, forgetting how much she herself used to hate it when the roles were reversed and her teenage daughter borrowed her outfits. Her daughter must have been relieved now, there was no way she could do that anymore.

Her eyes involuntarily went down on the loose top she was wearing, noticing the way it was clinging on her no longer flat tummy. Swiftly she straightened her back and readjusted the frilly ornaments of her top, hiding her flabby waist. A quick peek at their reflection in the nearest window reassured her. She wasn’t really fat, she was just fatter than she used to be… fatter than her daughter, that nagging reminder of how she used to look when she was that age, of how she used to look until a few years ago.

The evening air was getting chilly. Here, have my jacket, I’m not cold, her daughter offered. Her first instinct was to grab the cute little jacket and enjoy the youthful feeling wearing her daughter’s clothes always gave her. She stopped herself just in time. That’s ok, I’m not cold. Better the cold than the shame. What happened to that red leather jacket I gave you, do you still have it? The question was harmless, yet it felt like an insult. Yes, she had it, it was her favourite jacket. But nowadays she can only wear if she doesn’t need to close it.

After spending the day going from one store to another, trying on things and debating the latest trends, the way they had always done when they met, she felt she couldn’t sink any lower. Seeing her daughter pick a pair of skinny jeans off a shelf, the smallest size they had, made her strongly wish they wouldn’t fit. Seeing her daughter try a skirt and complain it was a bit large, made her hate the young woman with a vengeance. That used to be her! Only now that it wasn’t her anymore, was she able to understand what great a part of her identity that had been.

Two sizes. That wasn’t too much, was it? But when you live your whole life effortlessly having a perfect, enviable figure and you take it for granted, two sizes might as well be ten. She had always complained that people notice her looks before they notice her intelligence; only now could she admit she loved it. She was normal, she wasn’t overweighed, but standing next to her daughter in front of the mirror, getting ready to go out, was a bitter reminder of how much better than normal she used to be.

She liked these loose clothes, she repeated in a convincing manner. She couldn’t be bothered with too much makeup or high heels anymore; after a certain age comfort is everything. That was perfectly fine, her daughter agreed, as long as it’s comfort you’re looking for, rather than an excuse to let yourself go. She hated it when her daughter was right – she had given up on herself, because if you can’t be the most beautiful woman in a room anymore, what’s the point in doing anything? At least she still looked better than most of the women her age and she kept stating it loudly whenever she remembered she couldn’t stop time. In spite of what she may have claimed, maintaining her figure hadn’t been an effortless task; once she had stopped exercising, once she refused to adjust her diet to the changes her body was undergoing, time simply caught up with her. Fast.

Walking behind her daughter, she hungrily analysed every little detail about her yet again. Then she caught her reflection in the window once more. She looked fine… for her age. People used to be surprised when they were introduced as mother and daughter. Now they don’t even blink. Time. That’s all there was. Who knows, maybe she’ll decide to fight it again. But one thing made her feel slightly better – knowing her daughter would eventually go through it as well. She wasn’t alone in this.

Glass Slippers and Stilettos – Regina and the Nice Guy (Fragment)

Ana Linden

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It was a particularly beautiful summer when they met, one filled with sweet poetry of hope and unrequited dreams, when the remains of old loves become the seeds of new ones and the magic of a sunset can make everything seem possible… even for a beautiful, intelligent and independent young woman like Regina to fall in love with a Nice Guy like him. Tall, with deep, dreaming blue eyes and a kind smile, elegant in his middle management suit, he couldn’t resist consoling Regina right after she presented her resignation two days into the trial period for a new job. Who could have resisted those beautiful doe eyes of hers, mystified by tears of despair she was trying so hard to stop from rolling down her pale, silky cheeks?

[…]

True to form, Regina promptly fell in love – so she said – with her new leading man, not one…

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Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 51

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Those eyes will wonder from the stiletto heels, upwards on the long, graceful legs, even more enticing in black stockings; they will linger hungrily on the garter belt and on the lace panties and they will take their time, being thankful for the tight corset, sending a distinct message to the tip of the fingers which almost feel it, anticipating the moment when they would struggle to tear it off the woman’s body; they will feel the heat of the body, as they focus on the whole image of the sensual woman standing a few metres away, the white flesh contrasting with the sexy black lingerie, her soft, long hair covering her shoulders and her naked back. The happiness becomes complete when those eyes meet another pair of long lashed, desire filled eyes which mirror the same wishes and carnal promises for the moments to follow. The young, beautiful face becomes even more irresistible, when the sincere smile lights it up with images of seduction and satisfaction, as the woman acknowledges her power, beauty and control over the man, yet again. She knows what effect her standing there, a speechless embodiment of sex, has over the man in front of her, and she takes her time, because this is one of those sensations which need to fully be perceived in order to set the right tone for the night to follow. She then motions slowly and lasciviously to pick up the almost forgotten glass offered to her moments or maybe centuries ago.

“Cheers!”

“To us!”

For more sample fragments from Parallel Lives, see: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396169

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/parallel-lives-ana-linden/1118140770?ean=2940045563567

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/parallel-lives-7

…. and iBooks, of course.🙂

On The Edge

2

“It’s like this glass of water,” and she points to the wine glass in front of her instead. “I have this full glass and I give him half. Then I give him half of what’s left. Then I take a few sips myself, I need to drink too. And so on, until the glass is empty. And when it’s empty, I have nothing else left to give. Nothing left for him. Nothing left for me. Nothing left for anybody.” She lifts the wine glass which she stubbornly calls “water” and she drinks greedily. “And it’s still not enough, he’s not happy. He says I’m selfish and self-involved and never give anything back… when all I do is give until there’s nothing left.”

The whiny voice drowns into another sip of whine, waiting for compassionate words to wash over her. I have no such words to give.

“Did he ever ask you to share that glass of water?”

“No… But that’s what I felt I had to do.”

“Was it? Or did you simply decide that’s what he should need?”

She was quiet, trying to suppress those angry words bubbling inside her. Aren’t the two one and the same? What difference did it make, she knew better… she always knew better than anyone else.

“Did you ever stop and wonder if he wanted or needed water? Maybe he wanted a slice of bread instead, maybe he asked you for it time and time again, yet you didn’t care one bit; you had already decided he should only want water.” Because water was all you were willing to offer, even if that water was make-believe and was in fact wine…

“He should have wanted water!”

Being at the receiving end of that sort of generosity makes one feel worthless. It’s degrading to see your needs, hopes and dreams swept aside like disgusting dirt that they are in somebody else’s eyes, only to be replaced with the “appropriate” ones. You will only want that which I am willing to offer, and you’d better be forever grateful, her actions always made it clear.

“He says that hurts him. That it hurts him to see what I’ve become.”

She was on the edge of realization. He was on the edge of collapse. Their relationship was on the edge too.

“But it’s his fault.”

She couldn’t help herself. Reality was swiftly pushed aside and she was about to yet again plunge into that imaginary world where she is always the victim and the hero.

“No, it’s not. Not everything is his fault. Take responsibility for who you are!”

Would she?

6

4

Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 50

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“I thought it’s more of a whisky night, rather than wine. What do you think?” Robert almost yelled as soon as he heard the bathroom door open.

“Pour me a glass too.”

She entered the room and everything was quiet again. Words were unnecessary, his lustful smile was enough for both of them. There is a certain gratification in having imagined what the unseen would be like and then discover it is even better than expected. It was worth waiting.

The man that feels proud to be seduced will not bother to hide his admiration and desire, he will enjoy the woman that tempts him and he will not waste any of her beauty, because certain women can be a rare gift needing to be unwrapped slowly and enjoyed to the full extent. And the visual impact is something so relevant in such an exploration, the penetrating, lustful eyes are not an offense, but a true acknowledgement of beauty, a source of new sensations for both of the newly discovered lovers.

For more sample fragments from Parallel Lives, see: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396169

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/parallel-lives-ana-linden/1118140770?ean=2940045563567

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/parallel-lives-7

…. and iBooks, of course.🙂

Glass Slippers an Stilettos – Regina Experiments (Fragment)

Ana Linden

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Eeeh! That hurt! The high-pitched moan escaped her lips as soon as the woman in a white uniform removed the first strip of wax. It’ll be worth it! Pain followed by pleasure, it’s always worth it, she had to remind herself. As the wax touched her skin again and again, she felt the need to congratulate herself on the wise decision of taking the day off. She needed a few hours of pampering before the big trip, a reprieve from all the stress, so she could get ready to fully enjoy the weekend’s pleasures. But time was also required to clear her mind and figure out the optimal plan, that perfect balance between delectable debauchery and worthwhile, career-oriented depravity. Experience had taught her men were more open and supportive of her cause in an intimate environment and she was relying on this opportunity to reacquaint herself with an old friend.

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Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 49

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He had already planned to have a quick look thorough that bag when she’d be in the shower, but he hadn’t thought about the fact that she would need it exactly then. Never mind, everybody’s tricks would become clear soon. After closing the terrace doors and the curtains covering the windows, Robert lay down on the bed, pulling the hotel bathrobe, so that he would maintain a certain amount of decency, absently watching TV while waiting for her to finish with the bath.

I’ve certainly taken my time… The room was endowed with a very elegant, large bathroom, of which Amalia took full advantage, and she finally felt relaxed and ready to move on. She could hear the room service waiter knocking at the door a few minutes earlier, the drinks had arrived. One more glance in the mirror. Good, exactly how it was supposed to be. It’s time. Game on.

For more sample fragments from Parallel Lives, see: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396169

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/parallel-lives-ana-linden/1118140770?ean=2940045563567

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/parallel-lives-7

…. and iBooks, of course.🙂

One Of Those Days….

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I poured the batter into the baking tray and when I was done, I licked the spoon. It tasted good, the flavour was just right… wasn’t it? I licked the spoon once more… something was missing. I could just see her face, I could just hear her voice, “Well, even I could have baked something like that. But I appreciate the effort, darling.”

I’m a good baker… not open-my-own-bakery-undiscovered-talent good, but good by comparison to many other women my age who have a life and also like cooking/baking. I was running late and I went for my safe and fast desert, my somewhat personalized lemon sponge cake. I could prepare that with my eyes closed, one hand tied behind my back, I used to think… until today.

Baking powder! I ran all the ingredients in my head and that’s what was missing. Damn, damn, f***, f***, damn! I felt like throwing the whole thing out, baking tray and all. But then I’d have to start all over again, and judging by the way things were going, I would never finish it without blowing up the kitchen. So… after having used three more eggs than the recipe called for simply because I failed to separate the eggs properly (I must’ve been 7 or 8 when this happened to me last and I always laugh when I see others messing it up – this’ll teach me), now this. Ok… I put in the baking powder at the very last moment, I mix the whole thing right in the baking tray, hoping for the best and that’s that. I know that if it doesn’t rise properly, I’ll just throw it out and give up on preparing any desert whatsoever.

She’s a terrible cook and she can’t bake to save her life, but god forbid I make a mistake. So I triple check the temperature and timer and in the oven it goes. No time to watch it, I have so many other things to do. One restless look and I can see it’s rising nicely. Kitchen decluttered, dishes washed, I can stop for a moment and enjoy the delicious smell… and wonder why the oven timer has stopped ticking, yet it hasn’t rung. Yeap, it was back to 0 and kept quiet about it. By this point, I’m eying the unopened bottle of red and feel like saying, “the hell with it”. Instead I just pull out the baking tray, hoping it wasn’t too late. Any other day but today…

I was going to sprinkle some powdered sugar on top and serve it with a scoop of my own homemade ice cream. Instead, I carefully cleaned the slightly burnt bottom layer, and covered it the best I could with dark chocolate glazing. She won’t notice I baked the sponge for too long, that much I know. There won’t be any ice cream on the side, because my evening continued along the same lines and I gave up on preparing it.

Pointless to say, the rubbish bag broke as I was trying to pull it out of the bin, spreading all that stinky mess on the kitchen floor… Once it was all collected and safely double bagged, I threw on a decent maxi dress instead of my chocolate and flour covered ensemble and good thing I did, because several of my neighbours were standing right in front of the building, bickering about some imaginary issues. A teenage girl with perfect hair gave me a disapproving look. Just you wait, my friend… You’ll grow, up, move away and one day your mother will be paying you a visit… then you’ll know what this feels like… One mean, piercing look and she was staring at her toenails. Ha!

I was polishing the outside of my entrance door when a neighbour gave me a crocked smile, staring at my short shorts (the ones I normally only wear in the house), while insidiously wishing me a good evening. What, you don’t dust and polish your door? Neither do I – normally – and neither does my mother… but boy, will she passively aggressively criticize my not doing so. I can just hear her, “You’re so lucky you’re not married… You can clean when and if you feel like it!” Her own home is an indescribable mess these days, but that’s not the point, right?… It was time to throw in the towel and call it a night… and perhaps open that bottle and have a nice glass of red wine. But first, I need to clean the toaster too, how did I forget about that one?

There’s a special kind of hell that only a mother can inflict on you, especially when only distance can keep things civilized between the two of you. I’ve long ago given up on pleasing her, I can accept some things are simply impossible. I normally manage to distance myself and ignore her criticism and offending comments. This time, however, I don’t have the energy to argue incessantly on a daily basis… I’m trying not to give her reasons to criticize, so hopefully in return, I don’t throw back all the venom gathered over years and years of not at all motherly behaviour on her behalf.

Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 48

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“Breath-taking, isn’t it?”

“Maybe, but it needs a river or a lake, water of some sort, it’s just out of balance.”

Was she serious? What kind of an answer was that?

“I think there’s a few streams of water hidden away out there, some creeks, maybe even a river.” Continuing what seemed to be her joke was the only thing to be done, after all.

“But you can’t see them. That doesn’t help much, does it?”

“Yes it does, it’s fun to think about the things you can’t see and then discover them one by one, see if you were right in the first place.”

“That’s one way to look at it. Anyway, I’ll go take a nice, long bath, if you don’t mind.”

“The bathroom is all yours. I might order something from room service. Anything you might want? A drink, maybe?”

“I’m sure I can rely on you to pick a nice vintage.” Amalia winked at him, walking away.

She took her beauty case and a few other things from her bag, but that happened in an awkward corner of the room, which couldn’t be seen from the terrace. What was it she said earlier, when Robert asked about what she had in that beauty case of hers? Something about a girl and her bag of tricks… a girl needs her bag of tricks, maybe.

For more sample fragments from Parallel Lives, see: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396169

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/parallel-lives-ana-linden/1118140770?ean=2940045563567

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/parallel-lives-7

…. and iBooks, of course.🙂

Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 47

Out on the generous terrace or their room, Amalia was struck by a lazy image of mountain peaks, dark forests and what looked like little toy houses scattered around, following no distinct pattern. It was almost dark and she could guess more than actually see their shape, while trying to relax, leaning against the banister and breathing the dry, cool mountain air. People find such things extraordinary, she thought, but she was not one of them. Of course, the view was nice and the smell of the fir trees reminded her of Christmas, but try as she might, the reason for which such a view, such a place subdued and amazed people was just out of her grasp. There’s nothing special about it, it’s just nice and fun, she thought, but not at all out of the ordinary… But is it just the mountains?

The faint noise of water running in the bathroom wasn’t perceptible anymore and the silence felt heavy when Robert appeared in front of the terrace door, wrapped in a fluffy terrycloth bathrobe.

“Enjoying the view?”

Amalia nodded, looking away from him.

For more sample fragments from Parallel Lives, see: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396169

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/parallel-lives-ana-linden/1118140770?ean=2940045563567

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/parallel-lives-7

…. and iBooks, of course.🙂

Glass Slippers and Stilettos – Regina and Selective Memory (Fragment)

Ana Linden

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It starts off light, little things here and there, which only make you believe she is simply a more forgetful person than others. An assignment not carried out in time leads way to an almost hysterical reaction as she is blaming everybody for not telling her she was the one supposed to do it. Nobody can possibly imagine she would react that way if indeed she had known and forgotten about it. That is, until the situation becomes a recurrent event… because she does indeed forget, she forgets she was told in the first place, then she forgets having forgotten. Therefore it never happened.

[…]

Regina is not like everybody else, she knows it and she cultivates this idea, mainly to the benefit of her own peace of mind. One of those things that make her so special – aside from her uncanny intelligence, unspeakable beauty and impeccable taste, of…

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Outside, Looking In

1

“Let’s see… I bought some new kitchen knives and they’re great, so cooking’s been fun, I’ve been slicing and dicing and chopping…”

Our conversations had been reduced to various domestic matters and not much else. But that was fine with me, I had no desire to share anything more personal. In fact, I could hardly wait for that phone call to be over.

“Finding good knives at a decent price is so hard… My only good one might need sharpening soon. I didn’t tell you how I got this one, did i?”

Who cares? I stifled another yawn.

“I don’t think so.”

Not that again… I thought they were done with it. She continued telling her story of the stolen knife in a cheerful voice, as though it was the funniest, most normal thing in the world.

We were sitting around their kitchen table, steaming coffee cups in front of us. She lit a cigarette and I started fiddling with the ice cream cup I had just been offered.

“New ice cream cups?”

The design of the spoon looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Not one of hers, I thought… Maybe she got new spoons too?…

“Not really… We only have a couple so far, but we’re getting there,” and she winked, giving me a crooked smile. I didn’t know what to make of that comment, so I said nothing.

Their friend’s restaurant, that was where the two “new” ice cream cups were from. She wasn’t feeling well one evening, so their friend offered her husband two cups of her favourite desert to take home and cheer her up. How nice of him, I thought. But as no good deed goes unpunished, they “forgot” to return the cute cups. That wasn’t very nice of them, I couldn’t help commenting, when in fact I wanted to say they didn’t deserve to be allowed back in that restaurant. I had just realised where I’d seen the pattern on the spoon I was holding. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

“If he ever asks us to return them, we will. He should, if he wants them back. But I think he forgot about them anyway.”

“Or he’s just avoiding the uncomfortable conversation….”

“Exactly,” and the crooked smile was back.

“Besides, did you see that new Omega on his wrist? He’s clearly doing well, he can afford it,” her husband added.

The ice cream suddenly felt a lot colder than it should have been. I discretely pulled at my left sleeve. It was no Omega, but I was wearing a new watch too. Who knows what reactions that might trigger?

It wasn’t an isolated incident. There were spoons to go with those cups, as I had already noticed. She pulled out some more knives and forks and she proudly shared their story. Some were from a pizzeria where she found the service was too slow.

“The place was full, you should’ve seen it. All the money they make and they can’t be bothered to offer decent service. That’s the least they could do to compensate me for all that waiting around when I was starving.”

You don’t like the service, you don’t tip your waiter… you don’t start stealing the cutlery! Or do you?… Some coffee spoons followed and there was no story attached, no excuse – she simply liked them, so she took them, and she couldn’t find anything wrong with it. Then there was the matter of the 20 euros… well, he might have gone a bit too far with that, somebody might have noticed, she added. Yes, somebody might have noticed him going behind the bar and taking a 20 euro bill in another friend’s little pub, a place he goes to almost daily… But that would have been the only issue with that… after all, it was really his money, hadn’t he just spent more than that there the previous day?

All their friends who didn’t seem to have obvious financial issues were probably going to miss cutlery and various small items, maybe even the occasional 20 euro bill here and there. Now there was the kitchen knife, another item they had “borrowed” from their friend, the chef and Omega watch owner… I knew the man. He had his own restaurant and worked hard to keep the business going. If he was making enough money to treat himself and his family to nice things, it was because of his relentless efforts and remarkable talent.

I knew what prompted their behaviour, but it was still unfair, so childish, so mean…

There’s a frame to every story and the more you widen that frame, the more you pull at it trying to tear it apart, the better chance you stand to find out how the story came to be. Frustration, envy and anger made their fingers so sticky. The more they couldn’t afford expensive things, the more expensive their tastes became.

She just had to have more and more beauty products, and the prices of the ones she chose was getting higher and higher. Besides, what woman can say no to the occasional designer bag or pair of shoes? She never missed a chance to subtly put down any woman who spent less on her skin, hair and general body care; and those special moments brought a big, satisfied smile to her face. He smiled a matching smile whenever he added one more piece of designer clothing to his already stuffed wardrobe.

Bills kept coming. More and more often, they were just shoved to the side without a second glance. The economy was the culprit, many people were in the same situation. Their income was just not enough to cover their expenses anymore and the economy was to be blamed – the economy, the government, the world in general, but mostly their friends who still managed to keep their financial situation under control. The 80 euros electricity bill was something to bitch about for two weeks… but at least he got to bitch about it in his new 200 euros (on sale) pair of jeans.

Desolation was framed by a myriad of pretty things and revenged by a series of petty thefts. The beautiful frame dragged those it portrayed deeper and deeper. Those who tried to pull them out were immediately written off and no longer accepted as friends.

If the homeless guy at the street corner simply took the designer jacket he is wearing or the nice bag she is holding, would they find it normal, acceptable behaviour? After all, the guy is doing much worse than they are, so according to their theory, he should just help himself to whatever he wants, as long as the one he “borrows” from is doing better… They find delight and validation in pitying their friends who have less than they do, but would that still be the case if things started to go missing after their visits?

I wanted to understand, because I know how terrible constantly sinking can be. But the truth is, I don’t agree with their approach. They’re entitled to their lifestyle choices and I, to my opinions. I can’t do anything to change either of them. All I can do is check my kitchen drawers before she leaves, next time she visits.

Glass Slippers and Stilettos – Belated Introduction (Fragment)

Ana Linden

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She is friendlier than anybody would have expected a pretty girl to know how to be. She is incredibly hardworking, even when she doesn’t really do anything right. But most importantly, she is so deliciously vulnerable. The one everybody expected to be so smug and conceited is actually so surprisingly modest and demurred, even insecure at times, her big eyes filling with tears when she does something wrong. So nobody can resist helping her, nobody can bring themselves to criticize her, thus risking to cover that delicate doll face of hers with a dark shadow of regret, insecurity and fear. It’s ok, don’t worry, we’ll fix this…. No, no, no, it’s not your fault, you’ll learn, we all make mistakes, especially early on.

Eyes humbly staring at the floor, supported on either side by a benevolent figure, Regina will find her way towards the end of her first week, understanding…

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Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 46

“So… how did you like dinner?”

“Nice place, good food, just the way it was supposed to be.”

Back in the hotel room, without the escape route of random conversation about scenery, restaurants, people in the mountain town and all other miscellaneous things tourists use to keep themselves occupied, the two of them couldn’t avoid the obvious reason for their being there and a bridge needed to be forged between what they had been thus far and what they needed to be that night. Avoiding any sort of physical intimacy or closeness up to that point might have been a mistake and a way to remedy it had to be reached immediately; but a solution didn’t appear to be at hand, as they both seemed slightly uncomfortable and out of place.

“I think I’ll go take a shower. Or do you want to go first?”

“You go; I should sort out my clothes, see if they need to go in the wardrobe or something.”

“Ok then,” and he picked some stuff from his overnight bag, heading into the luxurious bathroom without another word or even a look.

For more sample fragments from Parallel Lives, see: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396169

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/parallel-lives-ana-linden/1118140770?ean=2940045563567

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/parallel-lives-7

…. and iBooks, of course.🙂

When You See A Guy Wearing Nothing But His Speedos In the Supermarket…

… You know it must be the height of summer season at the seaside.

There’s always one, I keep reminding myself every summer… that is, if I’m lucky, because there’s a good chance I get to see more than one. Living by the sea certainly comes with lots of perks, but there are several peculiarities one needs to learn to accept as well. If nothing else, you never get to forget that “vacation” is that magical time of year when boundaries get very blurry for most people. It may not always be fun to witness, it might often be maddening, but hey, you learn to live with it!

So there he is, our summertime, vacation loving gentleman, proudly strutting his stuff, pushing a shopping trolley down a supermarket alley. Belly elegantly spilling over his tight, three sizes too small swimsuit, worn flip-flops flipping the delicate grains of sand finally escaping the trap of his hairy ankles, he knows exactly where he needs to be.

“Mommy, mommy, is that man poor?”

The little girl he pushes over in his mad rush to reach the beer isle keeps tugging at her mother’s shirt. Giving the man an angry look, the mother tries to avert her daughter’s eyes and draw her attention away from the testosterone wonder.

“Is he homeless, mommy? Why does he have no clothes? Should we help him?”

Out of the mouths of babes… I smile to the little girl as I walk by pushing my shopping trolley and the mother and I lock eyes, exchanging a knowing look. Damn summer, damn tourists, her exhausted, angry face seems to say.

Two of the security people are rushing, almost running to catch up with the inappropriately clad shopper. I was wondering how he’d managed to get that far. Generally they are stopped at the entrance and politely asked to head back to their vehicles and put on some clothes. That polite – some would say common sense request – is rarely met with a decent, polite response, much less with an apology. Generally, rude comments regarding the fact that it’s summer and it’s a town by the sea are proffered, just like in the case of today’s tourist, who simply refuses to leave without his beer… Who would have thought supermarkets might need to impose a dress code…

How many of these people would behave the same at home, on their way to the pool, I ask myself as I stop to let a lady cross the road. She’s barefoot and all she’s wearing is her bikini and a thick layer of makeup covering her face. Granted, we’re not that far from the beach, and that’s where she seems to be heading… But after seeing another similarly dressed lady who had accessorised her outfit with a pair of flip-flops and a transparent pareo wrapped around her hips walking around in the middle of the town, nowhere near a beach, I can hardly be bothered to notice this one.

I see them every day, coming and going to the beach and I can’t help wondering how they’d react if a throng of almost naked, loud, rude, ill-mannered people invaded their home town all of the sudden. Vacation time is also a time for upside-down, Alice-in-Wonderland type of situations, you soon remember if you have the strange idea of going for a walk and then stop for a drink/meal in the afternoon, in beach adjacent venues. No matter how nice the place may be, there’s a good chance the waiters will have to shoo away some disgruntled guest parading around in their dripping wet swimsuit. You see, now you’re the odd apple, for finding those pesky clothes appropriate. After all, it’s summer, it’s hot and you’re at the seaside! What the hell, live a little!

Now that we’re approaching that moment when we’re going to melancholically look back on yet another summer, I must confess – I don’t, resent them too much… at least not this summer. Once they finally go back home, to their normal lives and normal attire, once we get rid of them after we’re finally done making fun of them, the summer will be over. And I don’t want the summer to be over just yet…

Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 45

She was terribly amused by the new him… or was this actually the old him, the one he was a long time before they ever had the chance to meet? The two tourists were finally at ease with each other and the remaining part of the day was a nice promise for them both.

And tourists they were. The other’s life is a territory one cannot and does not want to explore to its full extent, as the intricate paths of thought and feeling and the prosaic everyday dramas are just the inherent death of any sort of magic that might have sparked an interest in the first place. The tourist is looking for the perpetual delight of uncharted territories – many have been there before, but what really counts is their own discovery, the thrill of the experience. And although the mark of a good trip is the sad feeling you get when your cases are already in the hotel lobby and you’re on your way back home, any experienced traveller knows better than to linger until the novelty wears off. Shedding light on the unknown becomes that sort of addiction which makes the journey worth traveling, in spite of all the dead ends and godforsaken experiences. And the perpetual thrill is only matched by the perpetual denial of the obvious – there is that type of tourist who will never feel at home anywhere and for whom safety becomes the necessary compromise. This tourist in another person’s life is a most selfish creature.

For more sample fragments from Parallel Lives, see: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396169

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/parallel-lives-ana-linden/1118140770?ean=2940045563567

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/parallel-lives-7

…. and iBooks, of course.🙂

Glass Slippers and Stilettos – Regina and Separate Beds (Fragment)

Ana Linden

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Alone once more, with nobody to share her tragedy, having to face and accept the separate beds situation, Regina also has to accept taunting memories that refuse to stay selectively lost. Inconsiderate has no knowledge of it, but when initially leaving her for not being appealing enough, he became an influential factor in Regina’s evolution. Non-revealing, somewhat blend, often boring outfits used to be her signature style. That’s how you get a husband, she had been taught; she was also quite sure her mere existence would be reason enough for any man to reach ecstasy. On top of everything else, she had the upper hand, she looked the part of the moral compass she believed herself to be, thus feeling entitled to pass judgement on any other woman.

What really annoyed her at the time, she remembered, was the fact that her style had worked on several men, all enthralled…

View original post 414 more words

Beach Reads – Giveaway

Early in July I shared my summer news with all of you – Glass Slippers and Stilettos, a collection of ten short stories was available for pre-orders and was going to be released on August 5th. The support and encouraging words I received from many of you have been amazing, reminding me once again what a warm, kind community this can be. So thank you, thank you, thank you and a big hug to everybody!

Since I’m not one for aggressive self-promotion, all I’m going to say is that you can download both my books for free on smashwords.com using the coupons listed below (the promotion ends on August 21st). They are available in various formats, compatible with all e-readers. If you had fun reading the Glass Slippers and Stilettos and Parallel Lives fragments, perhaps you might want to give the books a try or gift them to somebody who might enjoy them. Reviews are welcome and greatly appreciated!

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Glass Slippers and Stilettos, by Ana Linden – coupon code ZV92X

Parallel Lives, by Ana Linden – coupon code CC53N

Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 44

A very new kind of euphoria took over as a first consequence of pressure disappearing in Robert’s case. He wanted to experience everything with her, he wanted to share the beautiful place, to show her new olfactory, visual and taste stimuli. He wanted to make her a part of everything he had always valued about the picturesque towns in the mountains. Nostalgia about times gone by would be nothing now, compared to everything he wanted to make her a part of for that day. The mountains were for him what the sea was for her. So that’s who he is when he doesn’t doubt himself anymore… And that’s who he is when he forgets who he is supposed to be… And I am the reason for this transformation, it’s happening because he knows now that I’ve accepted him. The sense of empowerment and the loss of any insecurity of her own were sublime.

“I’ve been dying to try some venison, so we should really go there.”

“Oh, that’s perfect, you’ll love it, you have no idea… And then we can take the cable car to the top of the mountain, the view is something else up there. You don’t have a problem with heights, do you? Of course you don’t, airplanes don’t scare you, so a cable car is clearly no issue.”

For more sample fragments from Parallel Lives, see: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396169

One More Cup of Coffee

6

The espresso pot was making its usual burbling noise. Coffee was almost ready. I looked outside through the large glass door. The sky was on fire yet again. I am a not a morning person. I took the pot aside, switching off the stove. I am a coffee person. I poured all the freshly brewed espresso in one of those big ugly cups that came with the apartment. For about one year they had been our cups. And that had been our apartment. Just like that had been our town.

I pushed the glass door open and stepped out on the terrace. It was still winter, but the air felt like a warm spring day was about to unfold. We don’t only say goodbye to people. We also say goodbye to the places with which we connected, which meant something to us. I didn’t instantly like the big, crowded town still snoozing behind the early morning lights. But I had spent so much time there, going back and forth, that it had become a second home for one year. Pretty soon I started to understand its language, its pace and its peculiarities and it grew on me.

I had a few minutes to spare. And we needed to say our goodbyes, the half-asleep town and I. The culture, the history, the fun, the laziness and alternating fast pace, all the discoveries that I hadn’t gotten around to make, I would miss them all. Places can surprise you… just like people. Would I ever return? Who knows… who knows when or how… We can only know for sure when we leave. But one thing I did know, it would never be in that same little corner, in that same little moment in life.

So goodbyes had to be said quietly, over that last cup of coffee, staring at the colourful view I had enjoyed so many times. Curled up on a chair, my bare feet freezing and my palms pleasantly hot around the coffee cup, I took it all in one more time. Goodbye, Madrid!

In response to WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge – Morning.

Glass Slippers and Stilettos – …Or For Worse (Fragment)

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The woman in the mirror wasn’t the one she remembered. No matter how hard she struggled, she would never see that reflection again. Time had a perverted way of leaving scars on her body in spite of all her best efforts. Turning slowly, analysing every particle projected in the horridly honest mirror, she felt her spirits lifted by the image of a still beautiful, mature woman. Her thighs were almost cellulite free… and her stomach, almost flat again… her behind was no longer as firm, but the right pair of jeans made it look just as luscious… her breasts had definitely seen better days, but she would do something about that as soon as possible. It was a game of make-believe these days, she thought to herself.

[…]

“Babe… I don’t know what I would’ve done tonight without you… After the day I’ve had… you wouldn’t believe it if I told you!”

True enough, Lover would find it unbelievable, were he to find out. His image of her just wouldn’t allow it. The thought alone made her feel better. So did his wild passionate kisses. The man in the restaurant may have been her unfulfilled future, but the one in the car with her, whose strong arms were wrapped around her, whose luscious lips were going lower and lower on her neck… he was certainly her sexual present.

[…]

Hours of drinking and dancing with Lover and his friends, followed by hours alone with Lover between the sheets in the five star hotel proved to be just what she needed. The credit card wouldn’t be cancelled so soon, she knew that much and she deserved one more luxurious night courtesy of the one she believed to be the man of her dreams up until the previous evening. In fact, a morning of mindless, senseless shopping seemed appropriate as well. She needed to make herself feel better only because he shattered her dreams the night before, Regina reasoned.

[…]

She was waiting for years to see the old hag gone, years in which all King ever did was put his mother on a pedestal and point out all the ways in which she, his wife, was unlike her, his mother. The now defunct mother became less of a strain on their marriage after his father’s death, when she finally managed to convince King to put her in a nursing home in a different town. Regina no longer had to put up with inopinate visits and unbearable family functions, but the crone still cast a long, heavy shadow, often suffocating those few pleasures left from her shattered illusion of marital bliss. But she could feel the taste of victory. Regina was winning by default, she managed to outlive her nemesis and even if she couldn’t voice out her true feelings, she found that childish enjoyment coursing through her veins absolutely marvelous

[…]

He looked at her and after all those dark days, walking behind the closed coffin, King felt he finally had his wife back. The woman he thought was the love of his life was finally back, replacing the apparently heartless creature from the past few years. He squeezed her hand in his.

She looked at him in a comforting manner, the way only she could. Walking behind the coffin, Regina felt she could be generous. Seeing the remains of the woman she hated, envied and dreaded approaching the burial plot sparked a barely containable sense of power mixed with mischievous joy. She was alive and she was not going to let it go to waste. She looked at her husband again and her heart sank. How the hell did she end up there, next to that sorry excuse for a man?

*

If you’re heading for the beach this summer, Glass Slippers and Stilettos might just be that light, entertaining read you want. You can pre-order it on iBooks, Kobo and Barnes&Noble (release date – August 5th). I hope you enjoy it!

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/glass-slippers-and-stilettos

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/glass-slippers-and-stilettos-ana-linden/1123982690?ean=2940153093093

Glass Slippers and Stilettos – For Better… (Fragment)

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The frantic scrolling stops abruptly as the busy fingers’ and blue eyes’ attention is now required by the buzzing phone. A large smile lights up Regina’s face, a languorous sigh accompanying her reply. She had spent the entire morning trying not to think that the text might never arrive and now her patience was finally being rewarded.

The picture on the desk caught her eye in spite of all her rushed gestures. It had been such a wonderful day! Everything she had ever dreamt of, really… look how beautiful she was, she had the most expensive dress and most extravagant wedding anyone in her group of friends and acquaintances had ever seen… and on top of everything, the man she was marrying was so wealthy and handsome… A real prince had come to finally rescue her from an average existence and she would not let this one get away.

[…]

“I needed this so much… you have no idea how I missed you, Lover…” the woman purred into the young man’s ear.

Regina wasn’t lying; his absence had occupied most of her thoughts. Her recreational drug, as she liked to call him, was losing his interest, she could feel it. There was no incontestable proof to it, but a woman knows such things… he seemed somewhat aloof, guarded and atypically quiet during the last couple of weeks. Letting him hold her silently while waiting for the rest of the story about her day, the woman started scrutinizing his features with a knowing eye. There was more than satisfaction altering that kind smile. It wasn’t the look of a man who had just made a conquest and satisfied his sexual urges; that spark in his eyes belonged to a man who still cared deeply about the woman he had just enjoyed, the same woman tracing little hearts with her long nails all over his toned chest and abdomen… the same woman he was holding so tightly, having felt her absence during the previous days…

[…]

With a fake, conventionally happy expression suiting the occasion, Regina was singing Happy Birthday. But her mind was working fast, all the pieces of the puzzle having fallen into place. She and her husband hand in hand, doting on their son, were the beautiful image of the ideal family. King only had eyes for her and their wonderful son, the child was truly happy, especially since he got to spend so much time with his mother planning the party, but Regina was focusing on the woman on the other side of the table. For one moment only, her feelings were written on her face, in that loving look she let wash over King and the little boy. But one moment was all it took for Regina to understand. She knew that look so well…

*

If you’re heading for the beach this summer, Glass Slippers and Stilettos might just be that light, entertaining read you want. You can pre-order it on iBooks, Kobo and Barnes&Noble (release date – August 5th). I hope you enjoy it!

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/glass-slippers-and-stilettos

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/glass-slippers-and-stilettos-ana-linden/1123982690?ean=2940153093093

Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 43

The hotel parking lot was quiet, just like the last part of their trip. Once the car engine became silent, neither one of them seemed to be aware of the fact that they had reached their destination.

“So… do we need one room or two? I booked two, just so you know, there’s no need to feel pressured or anything…” Robert only turned his eyes to her when he finished speaking, so he couldn’t perceive the intensity of her expression.

“I think one room is all we need. Don’t you agree?”

“I was hoping…” and a sigh of relief was more eloquent than any words could have been.

Once you get there, you don’t need to hurry anymore. As soon as the luggage was taken to their room, things between the two guests were quietly settled, the rapport seemed to have finally clarified. Once certain aspects become straightforward, anything else escapes the burden of pressure.

“Let’s go have lunch. I know this great restaurant, the food is amazing and the atmosphere… Wait, I have no idea whether… do you like game or do you have an issue with hunting wild animals? Because if that’s the case…”

For more sample fragments from Parallel Lives, see: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396169

Glass Slippers and Stilettos – Regina and the Engagement Rings (Fragment)

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The key didn’t turn and she opened the unlocked door without giving it any thought. She often forgot to lock it, so… Clickety-clack, clickety-clack on the hardwood floor and then the high heels flew in a corner, preceded only by the laptop case, which landed with a thud. Oh well, it’s just the work computer – what are they going to do if it breaks anyway, give her a newer and better one?… Her personal mobile phone was another story though, that one found a nice, cosy resting place when carefully placed on the hall table. Curling and stretching her toes happy to have escaped the restrictive pumps, her feet started blindly feeling around the cold floor, reaching for the comfort of those favourite slippers. They weren’t there.

[…]

Her heart was throbbing faster and faster. Could it have been with admiration for that man some would call disturbed, who had put such passion in finding out what she had been up to of late? Or was it just fear that he might have discovered it all, thus making it impossible for her to pose as the innocent, shy, heartbroken victim next time they inevitably got back together?…

[…]

She liked it enough, she decided. And she was as good as engaged. Another container covered in velvet made its appearance from the depths of a large box filled with shiny, fashionable costume jewellery. Smaller and more modest looking, set carefully on the bed next to the other one, it shed a brighter, more optimistic light on Boyfriend’s choice… on her choice.

With a gentle, elegant movement, the young woman extracted what had once been another engagement ring from the older box and placed it on her finger, on the other hand. Then and now… that one and this one… and as past and present merged in one emotional instant, the big blue eyes filled with tears again… tears of regret… tears of frustration… Alone in her room, in one of the happiest moments of her life, Regina couldn’t fight the tears and for one ephemeral moment she couldn’t fight the truth either.

*

If you’re heading for the beach this summer, Glass Slippers and Stilettos might just be that light, entertaining read you want. You can pre-order it on iBooks, Kobo and Barnes&Noble (release date – August 5th). I hope you enjoy it!

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/glass-slippers-and-stilettos

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/glass-slippers-and-stilettos-ana-linden/1123982690?ean=2940153093093

Love of Her Life

3

The luxury car crawled by slow enough to let her notice every detail, from the tinted windows, to the impeccable paint shining in the sun, to the speckles rims. But in the congested early evening traffic it was still moving faster than most. A few more elegant manoeuvres of an experienced driver and it disappeared somewhere among the SUVs in front.

“Did you see it?”

Of course. A car like that was hard to ignore. So was the hungry, tormented look behind her sunglasses and those tiny beads of nervous sweat that had appeared on her forehead as soon as she noticed that ghost of a car on the other lane.

“Could it… Do you think it was him?”

No, his car is a different colour.

“Who knows…” She was already fidgeting in her seat, her eyes searching for the car that slid by just moments earlier.

“Can’t you catch up with him? Follow him, see where he’s going, see if it’s him?”

No way.

“Look at this traffic… there’s police everywhere, what do you want me to do?” I didn’t even try to hide the irritation in my voice, but she never noticed it. All she had eyes, ears and thoughts for was that car… was him… just like all those years ago.

“But you could try anyway,” she ordered, forgetting it was a favour she was asking for.

“No,” but the answer fell on deaf ears.

I had done more ridiculous things than try and follow a car, all in order to help with her romantic games over the years, but not this time, not for him… Even if I knew it wasn’t him in that car, she couldn’t have known. She was still chasing him, no matter what, no matter where, no matter who got in her way, no matter who got hurt. Well over a decade had passed since she hadn’t seen or talked to him, yet he was still haunting her. All it took was a glimpse of what might have been.

I tentatively moved forward, upsetting other impatient drivers, but the mystery car was nowhere to be seen, as expected. Yet now she could tell herself she had tried… and hopefully she wouldn’t have to tell me as well.

“Anyway, it couldn’t be him… I think I caught a glimpse of the driver and he looked nothing like him,” she tried to convince herself, settling down, disappointed the unexpected sighting was not going to become anything more. There was no way she could have seen the driver, but then again, she could never see clearly when it came to him.

The rest of our drive home was quiet. I knew all the memories, the regrets and the what if’s that car had triggered. While I may have despised him for the way he had treated her, while I resented her for what she had put everybody else through for the sake of their relationship, I couldn’t deny understanding at least part of her melancholy.

He had been and would always remain the love of her life. The love of her life and the passion of her life, both entwined in one selfish, arrogant, irresistible person…

Once in a while, she’d try to convince herself the man she married was the one she loved most. And once in a while, she would believe it. Yet, the more she saw herself disappearing in a marriage with a good, loving man who could never understand her, who had nothing in common with her, the more she looked back, remembering only the good times, only the passion, only the happiness. She used to have a life of her own, a career, she used to travel and be independent. She used to be alive.

Now she was somebody’s wife and nothing more. A housewife nobody minded anymore, that was all that she was, and most of the time she couldn’t even be bothered to care. She didn’t go anywhere anymore. She hardly left the house to go anywhere but the grocery store. She cooked meals, she cleaned their home, she listened to his boring work stories and once a year or so she managed to convince herself to visit me. So when one of her old, snobby, so-called friends told her how well he was doing and casually happened to mention one of the cars he was driving, she suddenly found herself canvasing the streets, hoping…

But she no longer was the strong woman she used to be. Seeing him, being rejected by him would have broken her. As one of the two persons who would then have to put Humpty Dumpty back together, I reasoned there was nothing wrong in trying to prevent Humpty from falling off the wall in the first place. Some feelings will never remain in the past, and just like she could never forget how much she loved him and how passionate their relationship had been, I would never forget how much I loathed him. She deserved a night out, I figured. She deserved some fun and she deserved to forget for a moment or two. She also deserved to be happy, but that wasn’t something I or anybody else could offer her anymore.

The luxury car drove by, obnoxiously manoeuvring through rush-hour traffic. This time, it was his car. This time she wasn’t with me. He drove the same way he lived – fast, recklessly and passionately. In his own twisted, selfish way, he had loved her too, that I knew; but he had never really cared. He would always be the love of her life. She might be his. For many of us, the greatest love of our life is one we can’t help but leave behind before it consumes our entire soul. That love remains so great in our memory also because it had no time to die on its own, to become mundane, boring and real. It existed in a dimension of its own, even when it lasted for years.

Reality is a different sort of game. She continued her life with her husband, who never started really seeing her. Once in a while, life would through a tantrum and they’d lean on each other, weathering the storm, hoping that would bring them closer. Then they’d forget it as soon as the weather was good again and they’d go on ignoring each other, living apart together, until the next storm would throw them back into each other’s arms. But one way or another, the past would always loom, breeding frustration and unhappiness. Or was that happening because the present was breeding frustration and unhappiness?

In response to WordPress Weekly Discover Challenge – The Things We Leave Behind.

Glass Slippers and Stilettos – Driving Regina (Fragment)

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Damn it, it’s all his fault… But the person Regina had in mind in her state of shock was not the driver of that other car. Now I won’t get to see him again, not this night… Or will I? An idea occurred to the woman as her trembling fingers were fishing for her work phone in the purse on the seat on her right. Involved in an accident on my way to your place. Need you. Pls. This should get him to come over and see her…

[…]

It doesn’t look like there was anybody else in that car, just the driver… and he seems fine, just terrified, the same way she feels right now. But he’s a man… I can work with that. I can get out of this and keep my driver’s license. And the insurance will pay for that piece of junk of his… Regina’s big, innocent eyes fill with tears and the shawl on her shoulders opens up, revealing her beautiful cleavage while she finally decides to emerge from the shelter of her somewhat damaged vehicle.

[…]

Taking a quick look at the two cars and at the two shaken drivers, Boyfriend cannot help but feel somewhat responsible… she will certainly blame him. He was the one who left after their fight; he was the one who took her phone, because he wanted to read all her emails and messages, suspecting that there might be more to be discovered about her so-called friendships with other men; and he wanted her to come running, asking him to go back to her. That was their game, they had played it so often! He just hadn’t expected her to be so careless and stupid. Look at her, she left wearing that house dress and flip-flops, speeding down the road to get to his place as fast as possible… His heart filling with pride when understanding how desperate she was to see him again, Boyfriend feels he can be generous and overlook the fact that she dares wear another man’s jacket.

[…]

Regina’s perfectly contoured lips part and then close again. For once, she has decided to think before speaking. Five minutes later you finally reach your destination. You and everybody else on the streets are finally safe, as Regina is neither a driver, nor a passenger… for the time being. Perhaps it’s you who’s exaggerating the importance of certain things. After all, the rest of the drive to her place was uneventful… if you don’t count being stopped and fined by the police, because she simply refused to inconvenience herself by wearing the seatbelt. Of course she’ll pay the fine, she mentioned in a very offended tone. But whether you like to admit it or not, experience has already taught you otherwise…

If you’re heading for the beach this summer, Glass Slippers and Stilettos might just be that light, entertaining read you want. You can pre-order it on iBooks, Kobo and Barnes&Noble (release date – August 5th). I hope you enjoy it!

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/glass-slippers-and-stilettos

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/glass-slippers-and-stilettos-ana-linden/1123982690?ean=2940153093093

Parallel Lives – Sample Fragment 42

“I know of it, my mother used to come here with an old boyfriend of hers. I hear the place is pretty great.”

“I’m sorry. I’m such a dick… I had no idea, believe me.”

“How could you have known? I didn’t even know this place still existed.”

“We can go somewhere else, if you want. Anyway, I assume it used to be different back then, they have refurbished, almost rebuilt the entire place a couple of years ago.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll be nice.”

The platitude didn’t convince him, but it did restore some of her initial calm. Nothing is the same. I’m different. And this is my life. She doesn’t matter, she’s irrelevant, and so is her past. She’s not worth my happiness. Anger overcame any other emotion: a mother’s past would not destroy a daughter’s happiness again. Anger only makes one’s resolution even stronger.

For more sample fragments from Parallel Lives, see: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/396169