Dean Andrews is the author of two novels: The Gateway & D'Alembert's Nightmare. Both are available on Amazon. A native New Englander, Dean has relocated to Florida. Never may he shovel snow again.
The Honeymoon is Over: Parts IX & X
—9— Alexander was glad he’d waited. He had wanted to make love to this woman since the moment he's laid eyes upon her in the dinner in Rochester, but he had listened to his parents, treating her, as he had with the other three women he'd dated for short periods, with respect; he built a relationship on relationship rather than physical urges. Now, in the tent, nestled into the oversized sleeping bag he'd purchased with the rest of the equipment in the shops in Ortisei, he knew it had been worth the wait. Attraction had grown to admiration and admiration to deepest love during his months of discipline, tacked onto years of discipline, and now, he lay with his prize in his arms, breathing deep and slow in peaceful slumber.
The Honeymoon is Over: Parts V & VI
—5— A form of deliverance had come to Daniel's household the first time he had taken up arms against his father, Alvin Bastarache, or Alvie the Bastard, or just, Bastard to those who loved him most. Neither repeated calls to the police by neighbors, nor punches and kicks by ten year old Daniel, nor countless scenes of packed bags and weeping contrition had helped. Rather it was a knife, more blood than Dan had imagined could be in a human body, a 911 call, and an emergency surgery to save that bastards life that had done something. Angela Bastarache had them been forced to choose—Her bastard husband or her son.
The Honeymoon is Over: Parts I & II
"We have to kill him," Daniel said. The coldness of his delivery scared Elizabeth more than the prospect itself, which was terrifying enough. There they sat in the grandeur that fell to them like crumbs from the table of Alexander Thanus, amid a pink and frilly splendor that had become theirs through the recent marriage of their mother, not even a month hence, and Daniel starts out their secret family meeting with that doozy. Just over three weeks home from the indeterminately long European honeymoon cut inexplicably to five short days, and Daniel wants no truck with seeking help, or talking things through; no police, no counselors, nothing... from zero to murder in two seconds flat. Granted, he had taken the brunt of the beatings last time... almost as much as Mom had, but still... Murder? "You're out of your mind," she snapped.
The Yearbook Photos
This was the weirdest cell Alberto had seen. Most guys festooned their place with permissible assortments and clippings from approved magazines, but this cell, many times normal size, was a studio apartment. There was a real bunk bed… looked like cherry wood… a full size pillow top mattress on the bottom and a plush single on top. He had the top corner of the full folded back like Alberto’s mother used to do. A fastidious creeper no doubt, but Alberto was confident he’d have the bottom bunk soon enough, and his new cellie would be thanking him for the exchange.