Happily Ever After
Happily Ever After
An ode to marriage
Oh, how thee annoys me, let me count the ways:
The way you snore in my ears
(and let’s not forget the pops, the wheezes, and other sleep-shattering noises)
The way you walk on your heels
“No, that’s not an elephant stomping on the house; it’s my husband walking upstairs.”
The way you procrastinate, forcing me to remind you 50 times
(I do realize it’s passive-resistance, but why don’t you just say no?)
The way you don’t listen when I speak
(or worse, when you somehow hear the opposite of what I said)
The way you keep letting the cats in the bathroom, knowing full well one eats my toothbrush
(and only mine… did you train him somehow?)
The way you “apologize”
“I’m sorry the horrible thing I have just done bothers you.”
The way you go to the market for capers, and come back with peppercorn
(or the wrong kind of coffee/spice/etc… it never fails)
The way you unerringly choose the sorest spot of my anatomy to caress
(like how you just now kissed that bump on my forehead)
The way you can break a fragile heirloom just by looking it
or stain my pristine white tablecloth before even sitting down (how in the world?)
The way you never remember how to fill the dishwasher
(The emptying isn’t stellar either: no, fish forks don’t look the same as dessert forks!)
The way you stubbornly refuse to do everything MY way
(Or conveniently “forget” what my way is)
And yet, and yet… There’s also:
That sheepish grin when you’ve done something mind-bogglingly stupid/clumsy
How you look at me as if I have NOT gained 20 pounds and a dozen wrinkles
That you binge-watch Buffy with me when I need a fix
That you come outside with me so I don’t have to smoke my cigarette alone, even when it’s cold
How we can still talk and argue and laugh all evenings long
How supportive you are of my writing and inordinately proud of even my most modest accomplishments
That you still tell people how we started dating and got engaged with a twinkle in your eyes
How you come in the bedroom every morning to kiss me good day – so softly you barely wake me
How when we hug I feel that your favorite place in the world is in my arms
That you love me despite the fact that I wrote this, that you love everyone and everything I love (or at least pretend to), that you love me unselfishly and unreservedly
You are my best friend and I love you
My Happily Ever After might not be perfect, but I wouldn’t trade it for any other.
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Inclement Gods by Gabriele Russo
Book 2: Gods Inc. Series
Fantasy
Fiery Seas Publishing
July 4, 2017
When you live in a world pullulating with gods, can you truly be an atheist? Well, yes…if you know a way to get rid of them. Mysantheos, a fanatic atheist at the head of a powerful lobby/terrorist organization, has created a weapon able to kill gods and his kamikaze army is ready to attack. As the divine bodies pile up, resentment builds at Gods Incorporated and violent factions start pushing for the extermination of the human race, and the CEO/Queen Louhi is running out of ideas to calm them down. Hopefully, her black ops teams are doing better. But will the Nerds and Richard (a down-on-his-luck private eye), saddled as they are with a group of angry gods, manage to find Mysantheos before all hell breaks loose?
About the Author:
Gabriele Russo, AKA Lucie-Gabrielle Jolicoeur-Rousseau, was born in Quebec City amidst a family of book lovers – her father had dreamed of being a writer and both of her brothers are published authors.
Since she earned her Bachelor’s in History, it was no surprise (except to her) that she ended up working in restaurants, eventually owning two, which almost drove her mad. She sold them and was nursed back to pseudo-sanity by Douglas Adams and Terry Pratchett.
That’s when she answered the family calling and decided to write. Armed with her ideas for the Gods Inc. series she went back to the University and got her Master’s in Creative Writing.
She now lives with her husband in Culpeper, Virginia, where she divides her time between painting, ripping apart and reconstructing her recently bought historical home, playing tennis and, of course, writing more books.
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