The Discreet Lesbian: (Episode 1 in the Mandy Series)
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About this ebook
Mandy Blackwood is a product of a strict upbringing in the Eudora Southern Baptist Church. A church steeped in taboos against almost everything, but especially against homosexuality. She has been brought up to make her mother proud – marry, have children, and bring no shame on the family.
She marries Scott, the son of a Southern Baptist minister who is the choir director of his dad’s church; Mandy is the director of the Young People’s Department and Scott is the choir director. The church is full of nosy old busy bodies. It is impossible to do anything outside the ordinary without the pack of gossipy old vultures tearing you to pieces. Mandy and Scott, unable to have children, adopt a baby boy and are seemingly happy.
However, Mandy unexpectedly encounters her true destiny, a graduate student and also a member of her church, Kathleen Crutchfield. Kathleen brazenly makes a pass at Mandy forever changing her life. Feeling new, deliciously different emotions, Mandy, struggles with the implications of what has happened.
Knowing that her life will never be the same, Mandy tries to see if there were clues in her life that should have alerted her to her hidden forbidden identity.
Kathleen captures Mandy’s heart and rules her body with a passion she has never known before. They are made only for each other. They know they must find a way to be together, but how will they get the courage to escape Mandy’s marriage, the church, and Kathleen’s powerful family?
Coming out stories are frequently predictable, but not this one. This bit of lesbian fiction is electrifying from start to finish.
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The Discreet Lesbian - Mackenzie Stone
The Discreet Lesbian™
Mandy Episode 1
Mackenzie Stone
PUBLISHED BY:
Lanie Dills Publishing at Smashwords
Copyright © 2012
http://TheDiscreetLesbian.com
All rights reserved: No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form without prior written consent of the author/publisher or terms relayed to you herein.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.
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Chapter 1
Franklin D. Roosevelt said, … the only thing we have to fear is fear itself — nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror?
The quote meant little to me when I studied our nation’s history, but now the overwhelming truth of his words continually haunted me.
Nothing had really happened to make me feel this way; nevertheless, a paralyzing dread permeated the hours, minutes, and even the seconds of my days. In fact, during the last few weeks, the sense of impending doom had escalated to the point that I didn’t see how I could continue to live as I was living for even a little while longer; yet, I knew that I absolutely had to.
I realized, of course, that under the circumstances, several different distressing possibilities were on the table, but the thing I feared the most was the likelihood that this volatile situation would cause me to lose my precious baby boy.
The rest of it I could deal with over time, like losing my home, my income, and my stature in the community. But knowing myself like I did, I knew in my heart that if I lost Patrick, the knowledge that my relationship with Kathleen had caused it would haunt me for the rest of my life. Whatever I had to do, I could not let that happen.
Scott Allen, my husband, silently wolfed down the dinners I made so he could hurry and get out of the house every night. Hunkering down over his food, his elbows and forearms surrounded his plate so he could shovel it in more quickly. He usually had his entire supper eaten within less than three minutes. Under different circumstances, the way he was acting would have been funny. It had become so ridiculous that I sometimes wondered if he had a stopwatch in his pocket and was trying to beat his time from the previous evening.
As soon as he finished his meal, he pushed his chair away from the table so hard that it screeched and left deep scuffs on my newly waxed hardwood dining room floor. Then he grabbed his jacket off the coat rack in the hall and, without a word, stomped across the room and slammed the door behind him. From the manner of his exit, you would have thought we just had a big fight or something, but, no, we never argued at all; instead, suffocating silence characterized our existence.
Whatever was going on with Scott it sure wasn’t affecting his appetite, but that wasn’t true for me. When I am upset, my appetite flies out the window and making myself eat becomes a real chore. Typically, after Scott banged out the door, I just sat and stared at my plate. I would eventually make myself eat a few bites, knowing that I had to keep my strength up in order to take care of little Patrick.
Before all of this started I could go to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow; now the nights were a seemingly endless wrestling match between the cotton