Grab a cool drink and enjoy another excerpt from my sassy book "Next Time Lucky":
Gerard and his Kalashnikovs
The new Cherie, the girl out for a good time, was having a difficult start. It was high time to have some fun on the dating front.
With my next prospect, I ventured even further afield and was somewhat bolder and naughtier. It wasn’t long before I found Gerard. He was a German businessman, hailed from Mauritius, an island approximately 12 kilometers off the southeastern coast of Africa, east of Madagascar. Mark Twain had said about the island that Mauritius was made first and then heaven, and that heaven was copied after Mauritius.
Sounds like the world is your oyster on the net, I thought. Take your pick! My dreams of the Indian Ocean, blue skies, and an enchanting, tropical island in the sun might just come true after all. I’ll click for that.
Blonde, tall, nice smile, interested in sailing and mountaineering, good conversationalist, motor bikes, horse riding, praying in old churches, his dogs, Kalashnikovs (hello?), books, PCs, and flying. Yes, another pilot, please. There was no end to his hobbies; a man curious about life, sentimental, quick to fall in love and easy to fall in love with.
The new Cherie, the girl out for a good time, was having a difficult start. It was high time to have some fun on the dating front.
With my next prospect, I ventured even further afield and was somewhat bolder and naughtier. It wasn’t long before I found Gerard. He was a German businessman, hailed from Mauritius, an island approximately 12 kilometers off the southeastern coast of Africa, east of Madagascar. Mark Twain had said about the island that Mauritius was made first and then heaven, and that heaven was copied after Mauritius.
Sounds like the world is your oyster on the net, I thought. Take your pick! My dreams of the Indian Ocean, blue skies, and an enchanting, tropical island in the sun might just come true after all. I’ll click for that.
Blonde, tall, nice smile, interested in sailing and mountaineering, good conversationalist, motor bikes, horse riding, praying in old churches, his dogs, Kalashnikovs (hello?), books, PCs, and flying. Yes, another pilot, please. There was no end to his hobbies; a man curious about life, sentimental, quick to fall in love and easy to fall in love with.
“What are you doing in Ireland?” He asked via email. My background made him curious and a few
additional photos got him hooked. He
told me that he liked my style, both the way I wrote and the way I dressed.
From day three onwards there was a flurry of
daily emails. He had lured me into his
net. When I woke up in the morning, my
first port of call would be my mailbox to see whether there was news from
Gerard. There always was.
“Do you speak French because you will need it here?”
“Oui! I studied it at university for a couple of semesters.”
“Gerard, I couldn’t sleep last night. I was so wired after your email. I lay in bed and looked at the stars. I have fluorescent stars on my ceiling, that
is.”
“Well, you wouldn’t have slept with me being there either,
Cherie…”
He was thinking of me all the time, daydreaming, and
fantasizing. “You are my type of
girl…independent, attractive and intelligent…and tall. What are your feelings, Cherie?”
“I think I am falling in love!”
“Isn’t that an uplifting, noble feeling? Overwhelming,
empowering, and always fresh and exciting?”
“I keep checking the PC several times during the day to see
whether there is mail from you. And to
reassure me that you do exist.” Oh Gerard!
to be continued....
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