A Widow's Story: A Serial Killer Story (Serial Killers Fiction, Violent Horror, Gory Horror, Psycho Killers)

By Derek Clendening

Betty Masey thought she knew her late husband of forty years until she learned that he was a serial killer. Together with his accomplice, she learns what made him tick. As the body count rises, her love affair with murderer Tom Branaugh reaches a fever pitch, and her lust for blood increases.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Derek Clendening
• Release date: Mar 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301159307

Book preview

A Widow’s Story: A Serial Killer Story

By Derek Clendening

Published by Mausoleum Press at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Derek Clendening

You think you know someone.

Norman thought he knew me. I thought I knew myself. Granted, I had a much better idea of who I was than Norman did. Forty years of marriage hoarded tons of secrets between us. Oh, look at me. I can hardly believe I’m telling you those things about him, or telling anyone about such personal things.

Maybe it’s okay to talk about those things, to loosen up after all this time. I hear it’s therapeutic. I liked Norman, but I can’t say that I loved him. For the first fifteen to twenty years of our marriage, I thought I loved him. That’s what wives are supposed to do, right? I was supposed to love my husband, in sickness and in health and be obedient to him, but that shoe doesn’t always fit. Whether it fits or not, I wasn’t one to complain.

I met Norman in high school. We dated for a time and, once high school ended, we did what came naturally. Well, it was natural in those days. We married. Norman was in college then. His loans and my waitressing job supported our one bedroom apartment and we made do. The sacrifice was well worth it because he left college with an excellent education and landed a terrific job.

Whether I loved him or not, we had two beautiful children: Michael James and Andrea Rose. But you already know all about that. I might not have loved Norman necessarily, but he was my best friend. Together with our children, we enjoyed so many years of wonderful memories. I wouldn’t trade any of them for gold.

Married life just wasn’t what I thought it would be. That or it might have been that way once, in my mind, and it ceased to be so wonderful after a while. Norman was sort of sluggish. By that I mean that the attention he paid to our children was lacking, for starters. Then there was his sexual prowess (there I go with personal details again!). He was plain to look at, a potato face, but you know that, too. Far from ugly, sure, but he couldn’t set a woman’s heart ablaze. Lothario he was not, that’s for darn sure.

His death blindsided me, though. Heart attacks are too sudden for me, but he always said he wanted to go that way—in his sleep, no less. Sleep was also a post-sex activity, so it