Tuesday, 20 November 2012

Opening Chapter of Malavita by Wendy Newman

Well, here it is. The opening half chapter of my first novel, Malavita. A tickling of your tastebuds. Can be brought from Amazon in traditional book and also e-book. (Newman is my maiden name, in case of any confusion!!)
 

           The rear door of the black Lincoln opened and the young English girl emerged from the
air conditioned coolness of the interior. She took in the wild and isolated surroundings of 
the Florida Everglades while she waited.
 

It was hot, far too hot to be out in the open and away from shade or air conditioning. June in Florida was stiflingly hot and notoriously humid. Already, sweat beads began to form and she felt the hot sun begin to burn her bare arms and neck. She put on her new Prada sunglasses to stop her from squinting in the glare of the sun as she looked to the other side of the car. 

A tall, confident Italian-American man appeared from the other passenger door and Sarah could not help but smile. Even after two years of a rocky marriage, he still had an effect on her that made her grin at how lucky she was to have married this man, with  all his faults, and he had many. One of which was an infamous temper, which he showed now by slamming the car door behind him.  

The heat did not seem to bother him, he had other more pressing things on his mind. He walked around to the same side of the vehicle where his wife waited, and roughly taking her hand, he walked along the dirt track that would take them deep into the Everglades, pulling her behind him.  He turned to smile at her but the smile was not full of the warmth he would usually reserve for her, more the smile of a man possessed by Satan.

Sarah’s smile had disappeared with the slam of the car door. She was confused - romantic walks were not usually Marco’s favourite pastime. Neither was he dressed for a walk; his dark grey Armani suit and black Bruno Magli shoes were not conducive to these rustic pathways in the ‘Glades.

            Nonetheless, she followed him albeit reluctantly, along the stony path of the swampy interior of Florida. The heat was debilitating and the effort of keeping up with the fast pace of her husband made her pale pink silk blouse began to stick to her upper body.

            She felt the trickle of sweat flow down her back before it was soaked up by the waistband of her white skirt. Her heels scraped against the stones on the path and her feet, hot and perspiring began to slip around in the shoes, making it almost painful to walk. The eerie silence began to concern her slightly as they kept on walking, just the occasional call of a bird and a splash of some unknown amphibian in the water that ran alongside the track that passed for a footpath on which they were walking. Insects buzzed annoyingly around her face and she kept swatting them away as they walked along, with Sarah beginning to feel very uncomfortable and extremely agitated.

            “Marco?” She tried to keep the whine out of her voice but Sarah had had enough. This was no romantic walk. She was hot and fed up and she wanted to go back to the coolness of the car. She had a can of cola in the car, which she would devour the instant she got back there, such was her thirst. 

“I just want to talk to you away from any interruptions.” He continued walking without looking back at her. His steps were sure and purposeful even on the uneven path.

             On they went, further and further from anyone, just ‘gators and other feral creatures for company. Crickets chirped in the background. A snake slithered across their path causing Sarah to startle slightly; she had never got used to their presence. Marco did not bat an eyelid at the snake’s intrusion but continued walking, pulling Sarah along by the hand with a strength she hadn’t realised he possessed.

 Eventually, they came to the end of the path. The waterway alongside them joined another and then flowed even deeper into the heartland getting lost forever. Marco looked around and nodded, satisfied of the location and he sat. A tree had been felled, perhaps from the recent hurricane and the trunk provided somewhere for them both to sit and talk although little shade was afforded the couple.

             Sarah sat obediently next to her husband, leaning backwards and turned her face up towards the sun. She relaxed slightly and stretched her legs out in front of her, kicking off her shoes. In the far off distance she heard an occasional shot ring out, probably an illegal hunter somewhere in the swamp. She was glad to be sitting as their walk had exhausted her. It must be nearly one hundred degrees today. Although it was hot and sticky, the wildness was beautiful. After the bustling of Miami and the closeness of Palm Beach, it was nice to have some space. She was also pleased to be spending time alone with Marco. He had just been released from Federal prison after charges of tax evasion and other alledged crimes had been dropped. It had been a huge relief to the whole family as he had been looking at spending the next twenty years in prison, missing out on both seeing their daughter grow up and the opportunity for more children. Sarah wasn’t sure how it had happened although she had some ideas but she wasn’t one to ask questions of Marco Delvecchio. But it had happened and he was back home with her.

              Now they had their whole lives ahead of them to get back to where they had been before this nasty business had arisen.

“It’s lovely out here.” Her English accent was still perfect and not showing any lilt of the American vernacular despite living in the Sunshine State for two years now. She reached for his hand but Marco abruptly pulled it away.

            "What’s the matter?” She asked, suddenly uneasy with his reticence.

            He stood now and turned to look down on her, threatening and imposing. “While I was away, I have it on good authority that you slept with my brother!” His eyes were black with anger, accusing. Gone was the twinkle that usually resided in his beautiful brown eyes. His face was full of calm, a complete antithesis of the rage burning behind his eyes and it was this that made Sarah’s spine tingle with fearful apprehension. She knew what he was capable of when in such a rage.

 “You are my wife and were supposed to remain faithful to me. I was only away for a few weeks but you couldn’t stop yourself. Christ, Sarah, of all people, you had to screw my BROTHER?!”

She snickered. “What makes you say such a thing?” Sarah finally found her voice although her mouth was dry. Her heart was beating so fast that she thought she would have heart failure and she felt sick. She was glad she was seated as her legs had turned weak and her arms felt heavy. Unable to look him in the eyes, she looked down at the ground crawling with fire-ants.

            “Vinnie told me. His loyalty was to me, in the end. You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? How many times? Where did you do it, in my house? In my bed?” His voice was rising with ire. He leant down and was just inches away from her face as he said his next words. “My father was right all along, you know that? He said I should have married an Italian girl who would do exactly as she was told and respect her marriage vows. A nice, submissive woman. Our daughter deserves a better mother than you!” Spittle was leaking from his mouth in his rage. He grabbed her long dark hair and with Sarah screaming his name hysterically, he pulled her, stumbling, into the undergrowth. She lost a shoe in the process. “You are evil!” He spat at her and pushed her away from him unable to stand her being too close any longer. She fell towards the thorny brush and it scratched her arms as it tore through the costly material, droplets of blood piercing through the flimsy silk.

           With horror, Sarah saw Marco reached behind him and take out his gun from the waistband of his trousers. He aimed it at her.  

“Sweetheart, no! You don’t have to do this. Whatever the problem is, we can deal with it! Think about Grace!” She pleaded with him but he was unreachable. She began to sob with fear and turned to run from him.

Marco didn’t move but just looked at her trying to run away from him, and shaking his head very, very slightly, he pulled the trigger. He had the faintest trace of a smile of his lips as he did so. This was his business, what he enjoyed doing. He felt a buzz as he watched the bullet tear into his slut of a wife and suddenly felt free. He laughed out loud and turned to go back to the car.

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