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Lizardman afflicts powerful monster huntress with a curse.

"My Dwight never even watched a football game; it's not him," Tasha spat angrily.

In the midst of searching for Dwight Thomas Doucet, somehow Susan Whitehead found out about her husband's little concubine.

His team of lawyers did manage to keep Whitehead Generators out of the divorce settlement, but Susan and her lawyer did manage to get twelve million dollars out of Marcus Whitehead.

"Baby, divorce is final in just twenty four hours," Marcus smiled as he spoke into the phone. "How about a little trip to Cancun to celebrate?"

"Can't. I'm busy," Tasha answered.

"Busy? Busy doing what?" Marcus asked.

"Got a date," Tasha admitted.

"Got a what?" Marcus yelled.

"Hey, we're not married; I can see whoever I want to," Tasha said.

"You listen here, you little bitch," Marcus snarled into the phone. "That pussy is mine, that ass is mine, that body is mine, you hear me?"

"Ain't yours 'til you put a ring on it," Tasha answered and hung up.

The trip to Cancun became an engagement celebration. Marcus got his lawyers to fast track a divorce through St. Ann's court. Then a trip to Paris became a surprise wedding.

And less than two weeks into their marriage, Marcus had roused himself from his sleep. Something was wrong; he had a blinding pain in his head and his breathing was labored.

In a daze, he attempted to get out of bed, tried to reach out with his left hand to hoist himself up, and tumbled out of the bed onto the floor.

Then, to his utter horror and embarrassment, he soiled himself.

Tasha calmly called 911 and waited downstairs to let the EMT crew in. Marcus Whitehead lay, face down on the carpet, and lay alone in the dark bedroom until the paramedics arrived.

And now, he sat, in a wheelchair, eating watery oatmeal, while his beautiful wife ran around with someone else's passion mark on her perfectly shaped buttock.

The nurse dressed Marcus and Paul Clemens, his driver drove him to Whitehead Generators. He insisted on wheeling himself to the lift, then pushed the buttons that would hoist him up to his office.

Then he had Courtney Louviere, his trusted secretary call Reynold Reynolds, the private investigator.

"Told you not to marry that little tramp," Courtney muttered under her breath.

"What?" Marcus grunted angrily.

But Courtney ignored him, just punched in the number.

Reynold Reynolds agreed to tail Tasha Whitehead, find out what he could. And he did his best. He followed the attractive young woman as she and Ally Choo, her best friend, drove in Tasha's gleaming Maserati to the Courtyard Mall, to Babbage's and Abdul's department stores in Bender and DeGarde, Louisiana, to Radcliffe's and Side By Side and La Scalia's and Henri's restaurants.

"I'd be as big as a house I ate what those two ate," the rotund man said as he gave Marcus what scant information he'd been able to garner.

He also showed Marcus the lo-jack device he'd installed on the Maserati, and the log Marcus could access on his laptop computer.

"Put 'jump' all lower case as the password," Reynold said. "You can type that with your right hand."

"Thank you," Marcus tried to say.

"Hey, I hate, that's Hate with a capital 'H' cheaters," Reynold said. "If she is cheating, I hope you catch her. But the whole week I was tailing her? Waste of your money and my time."

If the unknown lover put any more marks on her body, Tasha was smart enough to keep them hidden from Marcus. Since the stroke, since hiring the nurse, Tasha slept in a separate room, their old bedroom upstairs on the second floor. She also kept her own hours; most of the time she was still in her bed when Marcus was rising for the work day.

Two weeks after he'd seen the passion mark on her buttocks, on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, Marcus was sitting, watching a hummingbird suck greedily at the feeder the nurse had put up in the rear garden. Tasha came skipping down the stairs, wearing a sleeveless dress that ended slightly above mid-thigh. She was wearing her customary five inch heels, and her makeup and hair was meticulously cared for.

"Where are

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