The Women's Club: New Beginnings

By C F Lacy

“Shelly is not coping with the loss of her late husband well. She has missed work for the past six months and has remained holed up in her home, rarely leaving her bed. The encouragement of her friends to return to the land of the living is met with reluctance and hesitation.Then a chance encounter in her local park changes everything. After meeting Anna and her husband Stephen, Shelly comes back to life. Her special bond with the couple makes her an ideal candidate for a week sleepover in which the two share Shelly as a sex partner. The experience leaves her ready to take on the world again.” - Buckeyegirl

• Language: English
• Publisher: C F Lacy
• Release date: Mar 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311034014

C F Lacy

C.F.Lacy is a Los Angeles based writer of the offbeat short story series, “The Women's Club.”“The Women's Club” peeks into the lives of club members revealing unmentionable desires, hidden secrets, and human frailties. Lacy's tales reign with self help elements and surprises with blushing erotic tones.When not writing, she enjoys spending time with her daughter and husband of twenty-three years. She loves to read biographies and is presently catching up on Orange is the New Black, The Gilmore Girls, and Breaking Bad.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Leave Me Alone…PLEASE!

Water, half-and-half, and some old moldy bread that has never been opened, stare back at Shelly as she looks into her almost bare refrigerator. She closes the refrigerator door and walks over to the kitchen counter where her keys are lying amongst piles of takeout menus; everything around her is a mess. The dishes are piled up in the sink. The coffee pot is filled with old Starbucks decaf blond roast, crumbs from assorted pastries lie scattered on the counter, several hard-to-clean pots sit stacked on the counter, and two shriveled-up plants that used to be rosemary and basil are just waiting to be disposed of. The kitchen has an odd complacent odor that permeates the rest of the house. Shelly grabs her keys, and as she walks through the dining room to the living room, more chaos appears. Clothes thrown over chairs, shoes sitting in the middle of the floor, and layers of dust lying on window blinds, shelves, tables, picture frames, and paintings.

Donning a baseball cap, a white coffee-splattered T-shirt, and jogging pants, Shelly walks out of the house in a trance. Her expression is blank; her big brown eyes are open but glazed over. It is ninety-four degrees outside and she doesn’t bother to let the car windows down. Her eyes are dim and transfixed on the road. She doesn’t turn on the radio to listen to her favorite station. Her CDs are in the backseat of the car, and with the ongoing, record-breaking hot temperatures flooding the valley they’re most likely destroyed. Moving to Northridge in Southern California was another bad decision she made in the name of love. Shelly had been content in her cute little apartment in Santa Monica. Of course, the rent was ridiculous, but the weather was nice and cool. The beach was just a few miles up the street, and eclectic little shops lined the streets, and the restaurants were wonderful. Living in Northridge is just okay—nothing memorable or exciting, just humdrum. But to Frank, it was paradise. They had bought a home that looks like every other house on the block except for a few minor differences.

Shelly is numb as she pushes a grocery cart aimlessly through the store. She stops at the produce department and looks around. She picks up an apple and puts it back down. She doesn’t want any apples. She doesn’t know what she wants. But she knows she was supposed to get out of the house and buy something. It’s the normal thing to do. She looks confused and searches for clues. Her gaze falls on a man with a toddler in his shopping cart. The man is picking out oranges, and the toddler is making happy, squealing noises and clapping her hands. Shelly glances at the contents of his cart and notices a jug of grapefruit juice. She suddenly remembers what she needs to buy and pushes the cart faster, directing it to the beverage aisle to get some cranberry juice. It’s on sale! She grabs three jugs of Ocean Spray cranberry juice and hastily puts them in the cart. Then she grabs another one.

Shelly? calls a voice