John Searles.Photo: Thomas Caruso
John Searles — whose 2004 novelStrange But Truewasadapted into the eponymous hit filmtwo years ago — is drawing from personal “heartache” for his latest book.
“A few summers ago, my apartment burned down, and not too long after my father died in a motorcycle wreck,” Searles tells PEOPLE in an exclusive statement. “When the pandemic hit, I found myself in a kind of daze, channeling my heartache into writing this novel about love and loss.”
The author ofHelp for the Hauntedexplains that his upcoming novel is “filled with dark humor, colorful characters, plenty of scary scenes and plot twists, but ultimately, a lot of heart.”
Searles adds, “I’m excited to hear how much early readers have been loving it!”
Keep reading for an exclusive excerpt fromHer Last Affair.
ON THE NIGHT HER MARRIAGE falls apart, Linelle Dufort spends nearly half an hour attempting to take a flattering picture of, to put it bluntly, her crotch. Two hours, if you consider the time devoted to simply contemplating the idea while lying in bed beside her husband, watching one of those shamelessly manipulative news series that poses as hard-hitting investigative journalism, though really, it’s just an excuse to string viewers along, teasing the reveal of the killer’s identity between Cialis and Boniva commercials.
“It’s obvious the wife did it,” her husband, Marcus, keeps saying. “Look at her squinting. Look at her constant blinking. She’s clearly a total psycho. Case closed. Boom!”
10:53 p.m. . . . Speeding steadily closer to midnight.
That’s the magic hour when she promised to send a picture of her privates to a man from her past. This man, Teddy Cornwell, turned up Thanksgiving morning with a simple Facebook message: I’ve been thinking about you for years, Linelle. And with her full participation, things escalated online deep into December, culminating in a flurry of heated messages and a deal struck in a moment of unbridled lust the evening before:
Tomorrow at midnight, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
Custom House
When Marcus fails to fall asleep, even after credits flash on the screen and a relic of a sitcom comes on, Linelle’s insides roil with a mix of despair and relief that she might not be able to keep her end of the bargain. Years ago, she used to strap their daughter, Georgia, in a car seat and drive around the neighborhood until the girl passed out. Now Linelle fantasizes about using the same trick on Marcus. Since strapping all five feet nine inches and 193 pounds of him in a car seat is unlikely, however, she keeps right on watching his belly rise and fall beneath the sheets while stealing glances at those glowing numbers:
11:11! . . . 11:18! . . . 11:21! . . .
Between that initial sweet message from Teddy and the more recent raunchier one, there’d been plenty of respectable communication. In the beginning, they leapt with abandon into memories of the summer they met working at a certain Orlando theme park. All the back-and-forth made that time in their lives feel so palpable, it seemed they could walk right back into it, punch their timecards, and there they’d be, making out behind Space Mountain.
What followed was a sobering phase of catching each other up on life since, their marriages and Teddy’s divorce, their children, their successes and failures, and all the many ways things did not turn out how they once envisioned.
His knees for her knees.
Her ears for his ears.
His belly button for her belly button.
On it went until they’d exposed every inch of their bodies except their faces and R-rated nether regions. And that’s how Linelle came to be lying beside her husband on this night close to Christmas, watching his belly go up and down, watching the clock too:
11:24! . . . 11:27! . . . 11:35! . . .
At last, Marcus flops onto one side and goes night-night. Ever so quietly, Linelle picks up her cell, then eases out of bed and slips away down the hall. Boom!
Her Last Affairis available forpre-ordernow.
source: people.com
