Today’s post is something a little different from my run of the mill book reviews as I have the pleasure of sharing an excerpt from Cheryl Butler’s debut novel. A Proclivity To Prurience is the first in the Obsession Trilogy and with the second offering due for release soon it’s the perfect time to acquaint yourself with the story so far. Promising to be an erotica with a difference and numerous five star reviews under it’s belt, it’s certainly worth a look and would make a great holiday read this Summer.
Joe’s controversial approach to life is fuelled by his fixation on Abbie. Accustomed to getting what he wants, it’s not until he really gets what he wants that his world unravels and his control slips away. Be careful what you wish for and be careful who you wish for, because obsession may just come with a price…
Closing the door, Abbie heard Joe’s car screech out of the drive and, closing her eyes, she fell to the floor and wept… and wept, her body contorted in the worst pain she’d ever experienced; she heard unfamiliar sounds, loud sounds, that seemed very close and after considerable time, realised they were emanating from her. Frozen, incapable of movement, her body struggled to manage the agony coursing through it and the sobs that wracked it continuously, leaving her gasping for breath, her brain unable to cope with another task. Finally freeing itself from its oppressive burden, it allowed the hysteria to subside long enough for its host to draw breath and move to a more comfortable setting.
Wiping her face, Abbie grabbed a glass and the half-filled bottle of wine, ignoring the significance of what its opening had preceded, and sat on the sofa, breathing deeply, knowing it wouldn’t be long before the assault began again. Sipping slowly, her mind struggled to keep pace with the images battering it, the memories flashing brightly, noisily, and she willed the clock hands, after centuries of forward motion, to change direction, just for a few hours, to change her fate, promising to learn from the experience and be a better person, but they refused her imploration. And then came the alternatives, the ‘what-ifs’, the ‘maybe-they’ve-got-it-wrongs’ and the sudden spark that told her they must have missed something that had her reaching for her phone to call the hospital, just as the tiny, remaining speck of sanity removed the phone from her hand, placing it carefully on the coffee table, allowing a moment’s grace before the next wave of grief attacked, with little warning or concern for the wreck it sought to destroy.
Abbie knew this process would continue for the night and chose to allow it to take its course unchallenged, for what would be the point? Aside from the inevitable failure, she had no energy or will to fight, nor for anything else right now. As the tears flowed freely and her body continued to shake uncontrollably, her mind remained a writhing mass of tormented thoughts and she continued to drink in the sincere hope it would, at worst, send her to sleep, or at best, send her to Eddie; she could hope for nothing more now because nothing else mattered.
About The Author
Having worked in a variety of industies, I’ve met many interesting people, and with a profound interest in what makes them tick, I’ve spent a lifetime of asking’What would I do in that situation?’ and ‘What is things happened this way?’, creating a multitude of plots and twists that I’d always dismissed until one story line nagged me constantly and I decided to alleviate myself of the burden, committing my ideas to virtual paper.
Assuming I’d run out of steam five chapters or so in, I amazed myself by writing two novels within a year and Proclivity To Prurience was born. It was difficult to write, given the themes, but I felt it was a story that would resonate in the current climate. Writing between a part-time job and raising two young children was a task in itself, but every spare minute was spent doing so or thinking about doing so, and my characters took on a life of their own.
I love character-driven tales with a psychological edge and aim to produce that kind f work myself, and I’m not afraid to tackle issues that some may find difficult…other than horror-I can’t read or write horror as I scare far too easily!
Aside from writing and my family my greatest passion is music and I can easily lose myself in a favourite album or song, rather like I do within a book I’m writing or reading, and a musician’s ability to move you on any level is pure genius.