The Last Death of Ron and Melanie

The Last Death of Ron and Melanie

Aden Kains

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They’d been high-school sweethearts. Once, they loved each other. But life circumstance has taken its toll on them, and Ron and Melanie are a bitter pair about to part ways. Passion lost to life—they’re a couple whose relationship is over. When fifty percent of first marriages in America end in divorce, Ron and Melanie are about to become just another statistic. Melanie’s on a train, headed to a final meeting with her soon-to-be ex husband, at which they’ll say their last goodbyes, sign separation papers and go their separate ways forever. After all, he’d called her a passionless bitch, confessed he fucked an old flame, and then just walked out on her when she really needed him most. She despises him for that.

Yet, even as she dresses to catch her train, Melanie’s nipples harden and her sex tingles when she thinks of Ron. Maybe you know someone who’s been through Ron and Melanie’s dilemma of passion, lust, loss, sex and hate. Maybe it’s a reminder of something in your own life. The characters and their situation will jump off the pages at you. You’ll find yourself in your own reader’s emotional turmoil, just like Ron and Melanie—you’ll hate the story; you’ll love the story; it’ll make you hot and bothered, and wet or hard, all at the same time. Can there be any kind of happy ending for this once-passionate couple in turmoil? You’ll have to read right to the last line of The Last Death of Ron and Melanie, to know for sure what happens to them both.

 
PUBLISHED BY: eXcessica publishing
ISBN:
PUBLICATION DATE: 2008
WORD COUNT: 7202
SEXUAL CONTENT RATING: 3 3 3
EBOOK READER RATING:
CATEGORIES: Romantic Fiction, Erotica, Contemporary
KEYWORDS: erotica, romance
 

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EXCERPT
COPYRIGHT Aden Kains/2008
“I’d just like to see you one more time and then we can both get on with our lives,” Ron had said. “Come down for the afternoon. Meet me at Magruder’s. I’ll bring the papers with me.” …

… A sense of dread—it was just the anxiety attack, she knew, but perhaps there was some melancholy, too—made her shudder for just an instant as the train lurched when it rattled across a switch and swung onto the station track, slowing alongside the platform. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Maybe she shouldn’t have dressed the way she had for the occasion. What the hell had she been thinking? Too late now.

Melanie felt a tiny bead of sweat start to trickle off a strawberry-blond strand, and meander down her temple and under the frame of her glasses. Then it dribbled down her neck and under the collar of her favorite denim dress, finding its way under her bra—black, his favorite—and into the crevice between her still-firm breasts. The rivulet tickled her stomach, making her quiver as it crossed her shaven bikini line; then it was absorbed by the black Lycra underwear she’d chosen…because it had always aroused him.

Melanie quivered involuntarily, remembering how his hands and fingers had once gently, always arousingly, roamed her skin and caressed her in the most intimate places; how his tongue could inflame her when he buried his face between her thighs. But that seemed a passionless lifetime ago now. Was it only six months?

Their death had come slowly…

 
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