Splinters: How a Heart of Neglected Splinters Led to an Infectious Revenge

By Susan Bird

Sunday ONeil has made peace with all of her unhinged fences. She decides to move forward and leave her broken relationship behind her and start a new beginning. Sunday meets Dean Daniels who is kind and moreover, has no agenda except to make her happy. Sunday is reluctant to embrace another relationship, but somehow finds herself drawn to him. Dean was not the stereotypical type of man Sunday normally was attracted to. Aside from her personal relationship failures in the past, Sunday ONeil flourishes as a savvy business professional who owns her own employer paid employment agency. She is a dynamic head hunter! Sunday finds herself being pursued by Reinhart Preston, president of P & P Solar Industries. He is a wealthy, ruthless, undeniably handsome business man and president of P & P Solar Industries. Mr. Preston is determined by any means necessary to become the number one wholesaler of solar panels in the United States. Mr. Prestons proposal to Sunday ONeil was monetarily overwhelming yet unrealistic, and had a threatening overtone if not accepted. A love hate business relationship is born. Unbeknownst to Sunday there are lies and deception on woven into Mr. Prestons business proposal.

Sunday ONeil fi nds herself in a twisted world of business, erotic encounters, betrayal, lies and deception. Can Sunday ONeil keep her head above water?

-Beautifully written second instalment of Susan Birds Fences trilogy. I did not expect this turbulent ending. Thoroughly enjoyable.

Dennis Koller author of Kissed by the Snow

-Susan Birds book literally played like a soundtrack in my mind. Love the idea to mix music and literature! Loved this book I could not put it down. Wow, this ending I did not see coming.

Venus Zamora..Actress

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514404621

Susan Bird

For many years, I worked as an executive in the beauty industry. Although I consider my educational degrees important, the school of life is what I use mostly. I write simply because I love it. I write about life. To add uniqueness to my writing, all my chapters are song titles, with acknowledgment to the artist. Within every chapter, there lie two stories. My love of music is shared with you, and hopefully, you will understand the body of the chapter even more with the song title chosen. All present and future books will be designed this way. I reside in the Inland Empire with my soul mate.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by Susan Bird.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 10/16/2015

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PREFACE

SPLINTERS… Author’s Side Note:

THE VOICE WITHIN . . . Christina Aguilera

MISS YOU… The Rolling Stones

HOW SWEET IT IS… (TO BE LOVED BY YOU) . . . James Taylor

REBEL YELL… Billy Idol

ADORE YOU… Miley Cyrus

I’M EIGHTEEN… Alice Cooper

EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE THE WORLD… Tears For Fears

FEELS LIKE HOME TO ME… Chantal Kreviazuk

WE ARE FAMILY… Sister Sledge

THE IOWA SONG… Josh Conner

WORKIN’ FOR A LIVIN’ . . . Huey Lewis And The News

SHE WORKS HARD FOR THE MONEY . . . By Donna Summer

DELILAH . . . Tom Jones

I BELIEVE IN YOU… Neil Young

ONE WAY OR ANOTHER… Blondie

LIFE IN THE FAST LANE… Eagles

WILD SIDE… Cross My Heart

GOOD TIMES ROLL… The Cars

I CAN’T DRIVE 55… Sammy Hagar

(I NEVER PROMISED YOU) . . . A ROSE GARDEN… Martina McBride

THE CLIMB… Miley Cyrus

ALONE AGAIN… Gilbert O’Sullivan

STILL LOVING YOU… Scorpions

WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS… Queen

SUKIYAKI… Kyu Sakamoto

RUNNING ON EMPTY… Jackson Browne

CELEBRATION… Kool & The Gang

TWISTED… Keith Sweat

CAN’T GET YOU OUTTA MY HEAD… Kylie Minogue

WICKED GAMES… Chris Isaak

DEDICATION

To my Dad,

I dedicate this book to my Dad who, is the wind beneath my wings. He once wrote me a poem at a very dark time in my life MANY years ago, in the year 1982. The poem is incased in a frame displaying the original paper he wrote it on and in his hand writing. Thanks dad, this poem has shaped my life and I hope you know that you helped me to do my thing! I am so proud to call you my Dad. My dad well, He knows things. I wanted to share this poem with everyone I can. Perhaps it will reach someone and help them as it helped me back then and comforts me even today when I look upon his words. It goes like this

A poem to Susan

Hi Sue its dear ole dad

Please be happy don’t be sad

Count your blessings one by one

And think of the trophies you have won

Not the ones of silver and gold

But the ones of life and love untold

I told you once when you were small

It’s not the winning that makes you tall

It’s trying your best while on this earth

The working towards that earns your worth

To live and by living be

An inspiration for those to see

That life is not always fair

You can’t always win though you care

But life is life and so should be

To challenge your mind and body free

To make mistakes, to overcome

To try again, to crawl, to run

And when this life is all used up

To reminisce about such stuff

And know it was not all in vain

You felt the happiness and the pain

You lived your life, you did your thing.

Love Dad

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank my entire family and extended family for their never-ending support and understanding concerning the hours away from them as I do what I love, and that is to write, and create a story for a book, which I know takes a lot of time away from you. Thank you to Barnes and Noble for all the respect and kindness you’ve shown me during individual book signings. You treated me with such appreciation for my craft.

To my dear friends who have supported me with so many book signings in their homes, a special acknowledgement to Diane Camozzi, who hosted a beautiful book signing at her lakeside home. I know how hard you worked to make the book signing the success that it was. Thank you for supporting me with love, truth, and respect.

Fondest thanks to Kathy Padilla-Rhoads. I want to thank you for your kindness and always being there for the GARDENA crowd. To my fans, I will turn you on to my secret of beautiful long and natural-looking lashes that some of you have seen at my book signings and associated lectures. It’s Kathy’s eyelash mascara. If you want exotic, long lashes with a swipe of a mascara wand and a complete natural look, no fake lashes, all natural, then contact Kathy at www.kathysfablashes.com.

I adore you, Kathy, and your small-framed, hardworking soul. Many thanks for all you have done to help me and so many others in their time of need. You truly are a saint, but also extremely fun, inventive, a talented gourmet cook, and you are blessed with impeccable taste. Kathy and Stan Rhoads, you have always been so kind to me; thank you from the bottom of my heart.

To my cousin who fought traffic from Los Angeles to come to one of my book signings, you are an upcoming awesome actress, and I love you dearly. Much success to you! Watch out for my cousin, Venus De Milo Kemp; she is going to be a big STAR, even though she is already a superstar to me.

To friends and family who have helped me by reading the raw manuscript and giving me constructive feedback, thank you. I want to give a special thank you to my dad, Ted Hines. Dad, you painfully read, and read again, and read again the making of both Unhinged Fences and Splinters, and I applaud your patience in reviewing my book to the end. Your editing and suggestions gave me honest and forever lessons. I am so happy to receive your knowledge. You have always been an avid reader, and I appreciate your time, energy, and dedication to my success. Dad, you’re one in a million.

To Joy Hines, my mother, who, without a doubt, is my biggest fan, thank you for always promoting my book wherever you go. Thank you for believing in me and all my adventures. I love you with all my heart.

To those who made contributions and to those who suggested UNIQUE names for new characters that would be introduced in the second book of the trilogy series Splinters, a special mention to Chris Farnham Williams, Ann Collier, Susan Hansaker, Leonna Dawdy Karl, Kelly Ann Donahue, Leticia Jaime, Brian Metzger, Deonne Kemp, Wanda Gibbons -Midkiff, Alexis Metzger, Linda Yochem, Julie Hines, Lisa Gerald-Clifton, and Dusty Huber, who is my go-to man for everything from computer help when the computer acts up, to your loving support. Thank you for searching the Internet when research was needed and looking up the correct spelling of words when I am blocked, and over all, helping with anything I needed. Thank you all for participating in the making of Splinters.

To my fans that have written me kind letters, expressing how meaningful my book Unhinged Fences was to them, and gave me many thanks for writing the book, I have to acknowledge you. I was overwhelmed that I had touched many people with my story of Sunday O’Neil. You expressed that you no longer felt alone and scared with their white picket fence that had been torn down through divorce or bad relationships. They felt strength from within after reading my book. I was profoundly happy that I could help some to find that inner strength. I thank you all for your special notes and the encouragement to keep writing.

To my beautiful, smart niece, Alexis Metzger, I appreciate you taking the time with me and bringing me back to the basics of writing with a simple yet monumental drawing of a circle to remember the characters and all their details in the first book of the trilogy, Unhinged Fences. It continued into the current book. This tool and your wisdom have saved me so much time, and this tool will always be used for further books. Sometimes, writers forget the basics and take shortcuts, though these steps are so important, even for seasoned writers. I appreciate that you take interest in my writing, and when I am down, blocked, or confused, you always pull me out by reminding me how happy I am writing. I am so blessed to have you in my life. Thank you for all our talks and your genuine interest in my happiness.

To my clients/friends, past and present, as your semi-retired stylist, I thank you for your support and loyalty, and I hope you enjoy my books.

Thank you to my Local Editor - Shannon A. Thompson.

PREFACE

S plinters is the second book of the trilogy, Unhinged Fences . As the author, my first novel started me on a path for the second book of the trilogy, describing what follows after a destroyed American dream. As in Unhinged Fences , we see the torn-down scenario of the white picket fence that so many women seem to long for. I wondered, should I write about the real-life drama of broken dreams, the Susan Hayward of it all, the splinters in life, so to speak? I felt compelled to do so, and thus, the title S plinters .

Most writers take an issue close to their hearts and weave it into a novel, hoping as I do that the reader learns something about that issue through the entertainment of their book. My issue is that of broken relationships, its effects, and sometimes, unimaginable endings to those relationships, so I wrote about it. With each of my books of this trilogy comes the ultimate issue at the end of the third book. It all will be revealed. Not to give the plot away, I will trust my readers to unfold the true issue. I too have weaved an issue into this trilogy, hopefully skillfully, so you do not miss it. My ultimate goal of writing is for your entertainment and enjoyment, hoping in the course of the entertainment, my readers learn something about the injustice of the said issue. Some women, as well as men, face these issues. Whether you are a man or a woman, we all can fall prey to relationships that can become twisted. Jodi Arias, Scott Peterson, both famous murder trials. Relationships that turned perverse and deadly. I am sure the victims of these two monsters did not see their fate coming.

Recap

In the first book, Unhinged Fences, the heroine, Sunday O’Neil, becomes disheartened by her failed marriage in the year 1972. She had planned for a life to be just like the wholesome TV series she loved and faithfully followed each week. Weekly TV shows such as Father Knows Best, the Adventures of Ozzie, and Harriet were two of her favorites, and, of course, The Donna Reed Show. Sunday’s own parents and extended family seemed to reflect the ideal American family too, the so-called American Dream. They had their white picket fences. That is exactly what Sunday dreamed of and planned for herself.

Things did not turn out that way at all. Her divorce was the first in the family, and Sunday found herself thrust into unchartered waters, a world unknown to her, and shocked. She realized the man she had married was not the right one and felt that her true love was out there somewhere waiting for her. Being misguided and innocent in her search, she finds herself having various adventures, trying to fit many square pegs into round holes. Frantically, and sometimes manically, she tries to secure her dream of the white picket fence. Sex, she believed, was her gauge for love, and although pretty enjoyable and erotic, she later recognized that great sex was not love. Sunday ran through a string of men, from older conservative gentlemen to the opposite extreme of rock ’n’ roll musicians, and many types of men in-between. For a time, she had fun and many exciting adventures, including a lot of almost-the-one experiences, but never quite the white-picket-fence match.

Unhinged Fences begins with Sunday O’Neil in a current relationship with Elan, Elan Paschal. Elan is an intelligent, articulate, driven, sexy man. He’s tall with shoulder-length hair to display his rebellious side. He possessed a cocky James Bond type attitude. Elan is a professional, degreed engineer, yet he had the edgy, long-haired rock ’n’ roll look Sunday was attracted to. Elan is drawn to Sunday as well, and spins his wicked web of kindness and passion around Sunday, and she falls in love with him. Elan, however, has no intention of getting involved with her long term as he has other plans to retire in his mid-forties and sail the ocean in his sailboat, alone. There was only one captain on his boat: him. He had made a small fortune with an invention he designed and patented that was a revolutionary type of conveyer belt that companies such as Sunkist and The Coca-Cola Company liked. They could run their product through this newly-designed conveyer belt, and it doubled their productivity and doubled their profits. He leased his inventions to many Fortune 500 companies. Elan had it all. He was smart, good looking, and quite charming, except he is broken from a failed sixteen-year marriage, and Elan had the mindset that he had nothing left to give of himself to anyone, or so he thought. Elan isn’t forthright about this fact until Sunday was already in love with him. One evening, after many months of dating, they had a particularly wonderful evening together, great conversation, perfect dinner, laughter, and fun. Arriving back at Elan’s condominium, they have an intense sexual encounter. They both get lost in one another. Elan feels things are getting too close for comfort. He is surprised that he is falling in love with Sunday. To lighten the tone of this evening and change the mood of their eyes reaching into each other’s soul, he jumps out of their soon-to-be completely-committed bed and relationship, and rushes to his computer in his bedroom. He plays some music and breaks from the heart he was just sharing with Sunday. Elan decides to download the music he was playing, and he made Sunday a CD of classic rock ’n’ roll songs from the 70s and 80s and early 90s that he was listening to. Songs of love and of love lost. He then presents the CD to her and dismisses her rather abruptly, saying tomorrow they both had to work. Sunday doesn’t realize that’s the last time she will see him for months. While she waits for Elan’s love, passion, and attention for weeks after that evening, she plays the CD he made for her night after night, waiting for his return. Weeks turn into months, and each song from the CD takes Sunday back in time to places in her past and the men in those long-ago places and to all her mismatched unhinged fences. She travels back in time and relives the painful, yet lustful and playful past of her innocents gone wild. She was thrown into a world she wasn’t prepared for after her divorce at eighteen. The songs on the CD had become a compass of her life thus far. Elan Paschal, after many months of absence, has come to terms with his brokenness and tries to reunite with Sunday and start anew, but she had lost that loving feeling after reliving all her past from the very CD he made for her. Elan helped Sunday see that Elan, too, was a bad mistake that only brought heartache and pain. Sunday promises to consider Elan’s newfound commitment and love for her during her journey to New York to visit her best friend Mary. Sunday decides on the trip she had no words of hello for Elan and no words of good-bye after the many months of his absence and the teachings of the songs on that CD. Sunday was deeply afraid of Elan’s lonely web of love and the cruelty of his past rejection of her, and she could not go back there. Sunday refuses to confront this breakup as she cannot find the words, and she never calls Elan to tell him it’s over. He calls her throughout her stay in New York, and his messages mounted. He finally leaves one last message, and it said, I guess you left your phone on the plane, so call me when you get home. She never called Elan when she returned home. Many months after Elan’s presumed departure from Sunday’s life, she meets Dean Daniels. It was a few weeks before she left for New York, and Sunday enjoyed the calmness of the relationship. Sunday was not in love with Dean, but she enjoyed him and liked him very much. Sunday could not be with Elan again, even if Dean had not come into her life. Elan had destroyed her feelings on his own with his cruelty of not hearing from him, not one word, for many months after such a night together. He broke her heart.

Sunday’s family is an intricate part of the first book. Sunday is unlucky in love and has many failed relationships. She also is hit with the tragic death of a brother, Ryan, who she is extremely close to. This makes her fall even further down the rabbit hole. Each family member is extremely dear, and they bond even closer after the death of Ryan. Sunday was grateful for the love of her family, for they are forever there for her through her many struggles and unhinged fences. Sunday is dedicated to her family and son, Zeppelin. We see Sunday’s family characters progress with each book of the trilogy.

Toward the end of Unhinged Fences, Sunday O’Neil has an epiphany about life and seems to find peace with all her unhinged fences. She finally lets her brother’s death go, as she cannot change it. She had punished herself enough for not saving him, as a big sister is supposed to do, and for not being there to pull him from the water from which he had drowned. She vows to put all her past marriages, failed relationships, and poor choices to rest. No more anger and resentment, and no more futile attempts at relationships with the wrong men, like those she had been drawn to in the past. Now, knowing that sex does not equal love, only a delicious part of an honest and loving relationship, she decides and admits what she really desires and needs: the kind of relationship with mutual respect, total trust, and a loyal friendship as a base to build on. This is the conclusion she now believes is the key to finding true love in a relationship and maybe even the white picket fence.

At the end of the first book, Sunday stumbles upon a new breed of man, a man she would never have been attracted to before or consider in the past. Though Dean was thermally handsome and she enjoyed looking at him, he did not possess the edgy, wild nature she had always found exciting and interesting, the bad boy attraction that many women are allured by.

Dean did not wear his hair long, nor did he play in a band, as she loved all music and felt musicians held happiness for her. She felt they were free-spirited deep thinkers and seemed to enjoy life as they lived through lyrics of the songs they wrote and sang. Musicians were fascinating creatures to her, but more often than not, the side effects were attitudes of superiority and being extremely controlling and self-absorbed. The other men she became involved with also possessed a mixture of all these characteristics she was pitifully drawn to in the days gone by.

Dean is not controlling or self-absorbed; her new sweetheart is kind, loving, easygoing, and mature but playful. Always hardworking, Dean was in great health, and his actions, more than his words or song lyrics, proved he was madly in love with her, even within the few short months of him meeting her. She involuntarily likes him beyond reason, not being her stereotypical attraction. She seems to enjoy the calm nature of this new relationship. It had only been a few months since their meeting, but she felt the ease of being together and was surprised by the total trust that was built in such a short time. He had no agenda, which she recognized and admired him for. He simply wanted to make her happy.

We move on from this point with book two of the trilogy, Splinters.

Sunday O’Neil’s story continues.

SPLINTERS…

Author’s Side Note:

A splinter is a small, thin, sharp piece of wood, glass, or similar material broken off from a larger piece.

This is the writer’s fun part. Metaphors are a think tank. They take you in the back door or the side door instead of the front door. What would be the thrill in laying it all out for you? I love my readers to contemplate and mull over what the hell I’m talking about with my metaphors. I use them a lot in my everyday life.

Let’s simulate for a minute. Imagine you climbed up on a wooden fence. You are young, agile, and blessed with an adventuresome spirit and perfect balance. You climb up on the fence, because from the ground, the panoramic view is blocked due to the tall homes around you. Up you go, and you now can see the sunset or a sunrise in perfect view. Could climbing up or down the wooden fence also claim the discomfort of a splinter?

Perched upon a wooden fence, ever so calm, you behold with loving eyes the beauty of a sunset. Your eyes fill up with the wonderment of life and one of nature’s finest moments. You suddenly realize you are but a small yet meaningful being in the scheme of things on earth. You’re in awe of the incredible moving of life and how the magnificent world works. With those thoughts, as the sun is now set, you begin to climb down off the fence. Oops… a splinter in your finger.

This surprise makes the beauty of the moment vanish quickly, the sunset. The only thing present in your mind is pain. Oh, it is not fatal, you assure yourself; however, your splintered finger becomes festered with redness, and throbbing has now set in. Frantic, you search for the tweezers, mindful not to touch the part of the damaged finger hurting you so. You push aside items in your drawers, as these items cannot help you. You continue to rummage through your things to find the tweezers. Now you have found the tweezers, and you inspect your finger for the splinter. No splinter visible. You touch your finger and run your nail across the painful area, and the pain is assured, but you cannot see the damn thing. You decide to dig deeper into the painful area, deeper yet, and then the deepest. You throw your head back from sheer agony of this tiny little splinter. The layers of the skin on your finger have now been uncovered one layer at a time, the deeper you went. Now, you attempt to pull the skin away from the sight to inspect and extract the gigantic log inside, but your thumb slips, and you lose sight of the splinter again. You decide to ask for help. To no avail, no one can help you. Friends and family members are afraid of hurting you, because you pull away when they try and find the splinter. The splinter is wicked deep.

Afraid, you think this will work its way out on its own soon. So time passes, and the swelling is bad and even more festered, and it throbs with every heartbeat. That’s it; you decide to use a small needle to free the splinter. The needle hurts so much you’re about to pass out. With determination and a steady hand, you see the splinter. You separate the skin again, holding it back harder this time, and you switch from using the needle to using the tweezers ever so masterfully.

The splinter is out of your finger, gone. Lying sideways on a white napkin was this brown, teeny tiny piece of wood splinter, which felt like a hundred times its size. Relief comes within seconds. Sore, red, and tender, but nothing compared to the pain when that piece of wood called a splinter was inside