Hey! It's my second favourite season! And to celebrate, a story of some terrible things that hold lifelong grudges, my Witch Bitch Mical, a Spanish redhead (they exist. I have witnessed the glory!), and the loveliest Romanian I will ever write. Light your candles my dears, it's about to get dark...
Remains on Amazon
Remains on AllRomanceeBooks
What's left of a blurb
Considering her husband would happily strangle her on sight, Mical Wentworth has a battle on her hands to win his trust back. Jamie believes she betrayed him in the worst way possible, when all she had tried to do was to protect him from the horror that has stalked her family for decades. Now all her avenues of escape are fading away, she is desperate to make it up to him. She can accept her fate as long as her husband can forgive her.
Strangulation is far too good a death for Mical, and Jamie Santillan has thought of all the ways he’d kill his estranged wife for what she did. But when she turns up on Jamie’s doorstep almost a year after disappearing, the possibility of murder slowly leaves his mind. She’s running away from something. The Mical he knows isn’t afraid of anything, in any world. And nothing should get to her before he does…
What's left of an excerpt
Barely dressed in one of Jamie’s shirts that carried the faintest scent of him, worn in the hope that it would lull her to sleep. She wandered into the kitchen in search of coffee, following the scent like a Bisto kid.
“Morning,” she said on a yawn. “Do you mind if I have what’s left?”
Jamie barely looked at her, only started sifting through his mail. “If you want.”
She poured herself a cup and blinked several times to wake up. “Busy day today?” she asked into the silence.
“If that’s you asking, if I’ll be leaving the house empty, the answer is no. I work from home.”
She turned around to spread butter and jam on her toast. “No need to crucify me, it’s just a friendly morning question.”
He looked up, mouth open and ready to start a war, when he clocked the shirt. “What the hell?”
“That’s my shirt!”
“Yes,” she mumbled around her toast. “I borrowed it.”
His jaw worked furiously. “Get it off. Now.”
She couldn’t help it; she gave a tinkle of surprised laughter. “Oh, come on. I haven’t stolen it. You can just wash it if you think I smell that bad…”
“You didn’t have any nightwear in that Titanic of a suitcase?” There was a vein in his temple that looked fit for bursting.
“Jamie,” she said, as if calming a serial killer. “You’re being…”
“Just take it off now!” His voice thundered in the kitchen.
“Fine.” She stripped the shirt off and threw it in his face. “Why do you have to be so petty? It is a lousy shirt.”
He wrestled the shirt from his face, “No, it is you taking the…” He realised that she wasn’t wearing anything, but silk shorts. In the cool air of the kitchen, her nipples began to tighten. Jamie’s eye level dropped.
“Hello!” Kelly burst into the kitchen, and saw Mical standing there topless.
Her lips pursed. “I see you’re settling in.”
“Don’t mind me,” Mical said evenly. “It’s nothing Jamie hasn’t played with before.” She flashed them both a tight smile, and took her tea and toast to her room.
She heard the beginnings of their argument, and perversely noted that it was quite turning her on.
Kelly exploded. “What the fuck was she doing? Have you just shagged her?”
“Kel,” Jamie sighed, rubbing his face in brisk strokes, trying to banish the image of Mical’s breasts from his sight.
“Just say it!” She folded her arms, tapping a beat of annoyance with a trainered foot. “I knew it. I knew it was a bad idea you letting her stay here.”
“Kel, she is winding you up.”
“Then why are you letting her walk around naked?” she screamed, picking up a side plate and smashing it onto the floor. Jamie let her rage on, glancing at the cheque he received for his article in Criminal Law Weekly. There was also a cheque from a crime writer whom he had met through Twitter, funnily enough, and was helping with his research. Maybe if he took Kelly for a shopping spree, she would stop her god-awful racket.
“Kelly,” he said finally, as she started on his dinner set. “There is nothing going on. I told her off. She is trying to play me. I am not having it. You yelling at me will make her happier, so please stop it.”
She abruptly closed her mouth. “I’m sorry, babes.” She sat next to him and dotted kisses over his cheek. “She’s just really pissing me off, acting like she owns this place.”
Jamie gave her a reassuring kiss to her temple. “It’s okay.”
She rubbed a hand over his back. “Do you even know where Madam disappears to all day?”
“As long as she’s not here, I don’t care. Here, look. I just got paid.” Kelly’s eyes widened. “Oh my God! How much dough is that?”
“Enough to go shopping. Come on, we’ll go up to London and get you a bag and shoes. Whatever you fancy.”
“Of course.” He gave another smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We haven’t spent much time together. Let me have a shower and we’ll go.”
Kelly kissed him and gave a little squeal of joy. “I’ll sweep up this mess and we’ll be on our way to Harrods!”
Jamie stood up and winced. His leg was hurting again. He’d have to take his painkillers and drive. It’d be quicker. The less time he spent on his feet, the better.
As Jamie disappeared into the bathroom, Kelly quickly dispatched the broken crockery, then hovered outside of Mical’s room. Even in the corridor, she could smell that rose perfume of her expensive designer candles.
Resolved, Kelly put her hand out towards the door handle, only for it to be pulled away. Wearing a slash neck knit jumper in a vivid blue with sleek-looking leggings and thigh high boots, Mical stared down at her.
“Going to work?” Kelly smirked.
“Can I help you?” Mical asked mildly.
“Just checking you’ve found clothing.”
Mical flashed a grin that made Kelly uncomfortably aware that she was still her boyfriend’s wife. “That’s so sweet of you to be concerned about me. Mind out, I need to shut the door.”
“Got somewhere to be?” Kelly demanded as Mical hooked her coat over her arm, along with her Birkin bag.
“If Jamie wants to know where I’m going or what I’m doing, he can ask me. I have no problem telling him directly.”
“What if he doesn’t see it your way?”
“Then,” Mical closed her door firmly, “he will have to stay in the dark.” Her mobile began to ring and she answered it. “I’m on my way. No, don’t worry. It’s all under control.” She gave Kelly a look of appreciation. “Enjoy your shopping trip.”
Kelly returned the smile with as much muster as she could find and waited for the front door to close. She went back to Mical’s room and opened the door. There was a familiar chocolaty smell along with the rose and underneath… Something slightly rotten. Like an abandoned, moulded tea cup.
On the bedside table sat an array of potions. Crème de la Mer, Elemis, Chanel, Philosophy…that bitch had money falling out of her ears. Just as she edged towards Mical’s hefty suitcase, she heard Jamie call her. She tried to open it, but realised there was a combination on the case. She told herself that she would figure it out on the way to London. Bitch features wasn’t going anywhere.