Holding Her in Madness (32 page)
Lauryn, Meg, and B, y’all are my reason for living, my reason for breathing, and if weren’t for you three, I would have lived my life like a woman gone mad. You are each sweet blessings that I could never live without, and I love each of you so very much in your own specialness.
Momma and Daddy, I know I am the least conventional kid to have and also the hardest daughter to love, However, ONE DAY, I WILL make you both proud. Thank you so much for giving Bobby and me the wonderful and loving family we grew up in. Momma, thank you for raising me to be strong and to never back down. But most of all, thank you, Momma, for being my greatest friend. Daddy, thank you so much for being the best daddy in the whole wide world. I’ll always be Daddy’s girl first, even when I’m a hundred years old. I love you both so much and pray that I can make y’all proud. *Psst... Momma, don’t let Daddy read either books—the acknowledgments ONLY!!!!*
Hey! Thank you so much for reading Leo’s story. It means more to me than you’ll ever know, and that’s why this book was dedicated to YOU. When I picked up my laptop and starting typing AWGM, I had no intention of EVER writing another book. However, the love and overwhelming response I received from the readers pushed me to step out of my comfort zone and try my hand at writing not just the musings of my own chaotic mind, but a REAL fictional story. Now, I can only hope I was able to not only give Leo’s story, but the readers’ belief in the story, the justice it deserves.
Who is Kimber? Shit, sometimes even I don’t know, lmao. However if I had to type up an author bio (which, son of a bitch, I do) this is how it would read. BTW, caught a lot of shit for this author bio. Really don’t give a fuck though, because I was asked to type up a bio. And if I can only say one thing for certain about myself, it’s this: I’m real, I don’t back down from what I believe, I say what I mean, and I mean what I say. I don’t bite my tongue and I never try to hide the ugly parts of who I am... You either love me or hate me, but if you love me...I’ll always be loyal, no fucking matter what. ;)
I can be called a billon different things
—
daughter, wife, mother, labor unit nurse. I sell pussy on the side. *Coughs* That would be Persian kittens, thank you…you dirty-minded scoundrel. I’m a book blogger, book pimp, and a book whore. My two indulgences are my Jacks in life…Jack Daniel’s and Blackjack. My biggest dream, the day I’ll acknowledge that I’ve succeeded in life and can I die a happy woman, is the day I get to go two stark-naked hour-round sexual bouts with Jason Statham. *Sighs*
I was born and raised in Louisiana…and no, I do NOT live in a bayou. I actually see the beaches on the Gulf Coast more than I see a bayou, lol. I started writing poems and short stories very early in my life. You know, for the Michaels and Leos and Nicks in my life. I’ve been a book hoarder since I was eleven years old, but then a couple years ago something wonderful happened! The 50 Shades of Grey craze brought to life my inner smut whore and I commenced reading anything and everything smut affiliated. When reading wasn’t enough anymore and I noticed that so many of my favorite indie authors and their books weren’t getting the exposure their work deserved, I turned it into a mission, starting my own blog, buying their books, and reading them one by one. I then wrote reviews for my blog and didn’t hold back in writing them. (Hell yeah those motherfuckers are profanity laden). I’ve never done a single thing in my life halfway. I always go all in. After the success of my blog and the insistence of one of my bestest friends, my sister from another mister, Trina Taylor of Bad & Dirty Books, I was ready to finally take the plunge and see if I could write a book that was worth a damn. I’m a Southern girl to my core, a self-proclaimed smut whore, and I keep hearing that I’m an author, but honestly…I don’t believe the rumors, lol. I don’t feel like a kickass bitch spittin’ out lyrics, or stories, like a motherfuckin’ rockstar.
Tattooed across my ribs are the words I have always lived by: ‘Aut viam inveniam aut faciam tibi.’ Latin for: If I cannot find a way, I will make my own.
If you want to contact me, give me a shout out at 3 a.m. because my story just decimated your work day potential, or hell, if you want to stalk me (I’ve met some of my BFF’s that way, so don’t judge a stalker. They are awesome, fun, kickass bitches) follow me on these links:
www.facebook.com/AuthorKimberSDawn
www.facebook.com/AWGMbyKimberDawn
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20745237-holding-her-in-madness
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18799225-a-woman-gone-mad
http://www.pinterest.com/kimmi5181/a-woman-gone-mad-by-kimber-s-dawn/
- Goo Goo Dolls –
Black Balloon - Guns N’ Roses –
November Rain - Passengers –
Let Her Go - Hurt –
Pills - Alanis Morissette –
Everything - Guns N’ Roses –
Sweet Child O’ Mine - Aerosmith –
Sweet Emotion - Guns N’ Roses –
Don’t Cry - Sinéad O’Connor –
Nothing Compares 2U - Johnny Cash –
Hurt - Bryan Adams –
Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman - Celine Dion –
Because You Loved Me - Neil Dover –
Alone - TLC –
Creep
MONSTER
FRANCETTE. PHAL
Chapter One
It was on occasions like these that Eden realized how very little she mattered to her husband. He never failed to remind her of her status in their marriage, whether it was with his remarks, that have only grown nastier over the years, or the reproachful looks, that seemed to carve across her flesh like a whip. Like now for instance, she could feel that piercing stare from across the room, the distinct bite of his scorn putting her instantly on alert. She hadn’t really done anything in the last few minutes to warrant the reaction, but then again, Dominic Armstrong didn’t need much to set him off these days. She sighed resignedly, daring to look away fully knowing that he would discipline her for this unknown reason later. Eden grabbed a champagne flute from the tray of a passing waiter before escaping to the veranda for some much needed air. They were up in the Grafton Highlands, at another dull event that he’d dragged her to, because he wanted to flaunt her to his equally wealthy friends.
He’d made their roles distinctively clear from the beginning, and she’d gone along with it because she’d needed the protection of his name and the money that went along with it. She had been one eviction notice away from homelessness, and he’d done it to, “keep her from ruining his younger brother’s life,” as he’d put it. Lucas Armstrong had been a good customer of Eden’s; coming to Crazy Pussy for a good year before he’d proposed marriage. But then his big, bad brother, the head of the Armstrong family, had gotten wind of his errant brother’s ridiculous idea and had marched in to shut the whole thing down. Once he’d seen to bully his brother back to college where he belonged, threatening his inheritance if he refused to cooperate, Dominic had zeroed in on Eden. He’d stalked the club for a good month after that, always sitting in that wingback chair in the front row, his predatory gaze watching her every night she’d performed. He’d frightened her to the core, big and boorish as he’d been, waiting patiently, artfully manipulating every aspect of Eden’s life until she’d come to him.
Since he’d wanted her badly enough, he’d grudgingly agreed to her one condition: marriage. Mistresses were expendable, wives were a little harder to dispose of, and Eden had been armed with at least that little knowledge. He’d given her a day before finally coming to her with his own terms. It’d been overwhelming; the legalese of the documents he’d presented with his attorney had all been a jumble to her. Logic had warned her not to sign the papers before having a lawyer look them over, but she’d been blinded by the seven-carat diamond ring he’d presented her with. Their wedding had been a quiet affair with little frill, and the honeymoon had been on a private island on the Mediterranean Sea. Twenty-three to his thirty-five, Dominic Armstrong, media mogul and one of Fortune 500’s top five wealthiest people, had paid quite handsomely to possess her, to own every inch of her, a fact he rarely forgot to remind her. He was the bread winner, the Alpha dog with a type A personality, and Eden was tasked to do simply two things: be the arm candy in public and a whore in bed.
He made sure he stirred a response from her each and every time he fucked her, and while he tended to be quite cruel when the mood stuck him, he received a sick fascination from hearing her beg for more. But Eden never protested, never complained in the face of his oftentimes sadistic streaks. She was the dutiful, obedient wife who lived a lavishly luxurious life, and in exchange, he could damn well treat her however he wanted. In comparison to the squalor she’d grown up in and the poverty she and her single mother had faced, Eden would say that her marriage to Dominic was a small price to pay.
She downed the champagne in one go and set the flute on the balustrade. She peered down just below into the nothingness and silently mused whether the darkness would catch her if she plummeted. Giving into a sudden bout of inanity, Eden slipped out of the four inch heels that had cost a small fortune and lifted herself up on the ledge. She bit her bottom lip to keep her smile at bay as she spread out her arms and closed her eyes. Fear was not an emotion she felt here, it was simply the darkness around her and the summer breeze caressing her skin. Exhilaration swept through her, the wind making her feel like she was flying. In that moment she was free. Freedom enveloped her on all sides and took her away from everything. Up here she was nothing and everything all at once. She opened her eyes and looked down into the abyss, facing her mortality. Laughter burbled up from the pits of her stomach and escaped on the wind.
“Don’t jump.” The unexpected sound of that voice shattered through Eden’s introspection, startling her completely. She wavered, her body teetering towards the precipice and her heart racing, now for a completely different reason as real fear poured like ice water into her veins. She was going to fall, she thought inanely, but then… she wasn’t. Instead, she was forcefully yanked backwards by an unyielding manacle of flesh around her waist. Eden landed unceremoniously on top of her rescuer in complete disarray, stunned at what had almost been her death.
“I do sincerely hope this isn’t what it looks like, Eden?”
Her senses returned just then, and her husband’s drawl had Eden closing her own eyes for a brief second, attempting to regroup herself before she had to face him. She came to her feet unsteadily, unconsciously leaning on the guy who’d not only caused this mess, but had also rescued her from impending death. When she found her footing, Eden turned to him with a tentative smile before meeting her husband’s gaze. There was nothing on Dominic’s classically handsome features that indicated his fury; he looked unperturbed, bored even with this scene, but Eden knew the truth. She’d become a veteran in reading his moods and nothing foretold it more than those cold green eyes.
“Well, I’m not sure what it looks like to you, sweetheart, but this man just saved my life.”
“Did he?” he retorted, sizing up the other man and quickly dismissing him as someone of no consequence. “And what exactly was it that he saved you from, pet?”
Caught once more beneath that cold green stare, Eden attempted another tactic knowing that she was only making it worse for herself. “I was being silly,” she said with a small laugh, raking a hand through her hair to act every bit the airhead he believed her to be. “I was sitting on the ledge, not realizing how much I’ve had to drink. This man…” She stopped suddenly looking at the man with the blue eyes. “I’m sorry…I didn’t catch your name.”