Albert Camus

Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.

Tuesday, January 22, 2019

an indifferent and sometimes cruel world - Growing Flowers (Flower Series Collection) by Tani Hanes

"Overall, this is a beautifully written series with vibrant characters and a dream-worthy yet thrilling plot. If you are interested in a marriage-of-convenience turn real-love, life of a rock star with a family, and lots of steam kinda thing, this is the series for you. It comes highly recommended. " - Simonne, Goodreads


When they meet, Pete is a student who needs a place to live, Daisy is a young woman in a family bind who needs a husband. She’s a bred and born New Yorker, he’s from the vineyards of Tuscany, but when they meet, sparks fly, as though they were meant to be. Follow our intrepid young couple as they navigate the treacherous waters of being newlyweds, new parents, and a vulnerable family unit trying to protect themselves and their children from the threats of an indifferent and sometimes cruel world.

Through four novels and numerous bonus chapters, our favorite couple and children learn to cope with an old flame, a stalker, wrenching loss, and simply growing up. Ten years pass from beginning to end, but the time flies by as everyone gets older and, hopefully, a little wiser in this loving and rollicking family unit.


She had just reached the top of the stairs when she was grabbed from behind and yanked into a room, lifted completely off her feet. She was shocked, as she wasn't a small woman, and wasn't used to being maneuvered or lifted like that. 

"Oh, aren't you a pretty piece," Sheldon said, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. 

They were in a storage closet, and Daisy could smell bleach and solvents, and see rolls of toilet paper and brooms along the wall. 

Oh, Jesus. 

Daisy held up her hands in front of her, forcing Shel to keep his distance. She could smell him from where she was, the horrible combination of his cologne and alcohol. He'd found something to drink other than champagne. "Look, don't fight, okay?" he asked, smiling. "It's smoother, faster, if you don't fight, trust me." 

"Shel, I'm not interested in you like that," Daisy tried, trying to gauge the distance between her and the door. "I'm married," she added, though of course she knew he knew that. 

An expression of disgust crossed his face. "I know you're married, for fuck's sake. Don't insult me." His eyes roamed greedily down her front, then back up to her face. 

"I know you're 'not interested in me like that'," he said, mimicking her voice. "I don't want to date you, I just want to fuck you, and maybe eat you out a little." His tone was casual. "I can tell you aren't wearing any panties under that dress," he continued. "I can also tell you're hot for it, you want it, don't you?" He took a step toward her. "What's the matter, honey, that stallion you're married to not taking care of you?" 

Incredibly, he smiled at her, as if they shared some kind of secret. "Oh, come on, Daisy," he said in a crooning, persuasive voice. "You don't just show up wearing that and not expect men to notice, do you?" He licked his lips again before continuing. "I mean, really, those tits? I bet you're a real spitfire, aren't you, with all that beautiful red hair? "Hey," he said as a new thought occurred to him. He gestured at her crotch. "Does the rug match the drapes? Hm? I bet you've got a sweet pussy, with some nice red hair, am I right?" 

He paused, looking up at her face. "Look, just don't fight, you know?" he said, going back to his original refrain. "I can open a lot of doors for you, or your husband, if this goes well." He spread his hands. "Think of it as an audition, if you want," he suggested. 

"You're out of your mind," Daisy said, her voice soft with shock. "Now let me out of here." 

"Such a spunky girl," Shel said, and Daisy could hear the admiration in his voice. "But seriously, why make this into a big deal? I know you want it, you're practically panting for it. I can smell you all the way over here, honey," he added, gesturing at her crotch once more. "And you smell so good, too. Nothing like a nice, sassy redhead who takes care of herself, you know?" 

And now, finally, he was approaching her, coming closer. 
And he was a big man, taller than her by at least four inches, a ruddy, hale and hearty man, heavy and florid. He pulled her in, murmuring soothing sounds as his lips found her neck. He pulled the skirt of her dress up, groping underneath.

"Oh ho, see, I was right, no panties, you naughty little slut," he said, his disgusting lips right next to her ear. "And you're wet for me, too." In spite of his words earlier, he seemed surprised. "See, I knew you wanted me."

Daisy was fed up. She thought of all the times she'd been put in this position, by creeps in bars, by dates in high school, by filthy Richard, and the man with the nice eyes. She gave a yell and pushed with all her might.

And Shel, perhaps not expecting any resistance, was caught off guard and fell back, knocking a bunch of cleaning supplies over. The smell of bleach grew stronger. "Get away from me, you pig," she said in a low voice.

The door swung open, making Sheldon, who was on the floor, squint and put his hand up at the brightness. The upstairs landing was much more well lit than the inside of the broom closet.

"What the fuck?" he said.

"Oh, Sheldon, you piece of shit." The person in the doorway spoke, and Daisy recognized Dolly Martinez' voice. "Just stay on the floor, you pathetic old turd." "Dolly? I'm so fucking glad to see you," Daisy gasped in relief.

She stepped around the man and took Dolly's outstretched hand.

About the author:
My name is Tani Hanes, and I am a 51 year old substitute teacher. I'm from central California and am a recent transplant to New York City. The most important things to know about me are that I'm punctual, I love grammar and sushi, and I'm very intolerant of intolerance. The least important things to know about me are that I like to knit and I couldn't spell "acoustic" for 40 years. I've wanted to write since I was ten, and I finally did it. If you want to write, don't wait as long as I did, it's pointless, and very frustrating!

1 comment:

jean602 said...

Sounds like a good book .