I'm not a bad person, no matter what you might think if you're reading Daniel Quentin Steele's epic of marriage and divorce and love and loss and courtroom intrigue in "When We Were Married - 'Volume On e- The Long Fall," and "When We Were Married - Volume Two - Second Acts" which is now being sold on barnes and noble and smashwords. The books are selling well, which is good for my saintly ex- prosecutor Bill Maitland who is portrayed as basically walking on water when he isn't going around healing the sick. Me they'[re portraying as a cruel, shallow sex-crazed slut. It's not true. There are two sides to every story,. And this is mine.
When We Were Married – Volume One – The Long Fall” by Daniel Quentin Steele.
My name is Debbie Bascomb. It was Debbie Maitland for 20 years. I have a dynamite body and a beautiful face and an ass, as one male admirer once said in a unsuccessful seduction attempt, that “I don’t have to twitch. It twitches itself.” Men are always hitting on me and I couldn’t go to a dance or anyplace where my ex-husband left me alone without having guys – old, young and inbetween – trying to rub up on me.
It’s not that I don’t like it. It gets me hot, but it just gets tiresome sometimes. I had 38DD breasts when I was 13 and I’ve been having sex since I was 13. When I was 15 I had sex with one of my father’s 40-year-old friends when he gave me an album by the hottest band around. We did it a couple of times. If my father had ever found out about it, he would have killed the guy.
I was pretty wild in my teen years. I like sex and I like men. And I found out that when you look like I do, and like sex, there’s almost nothing in this life you can’t have. Fortunately I had an aunt I loved like a second mother, Clarice, who was as hot in her day as me, and she gave me the upbringing my poor ignorant mother never could have. Not that Mom wasn’t hot. Where do you think I got my body and face? But she’d never wanted any other guy except my father and she wouldn’t have understood me.
And then I got to the University of Florida where the opportunities for sex with rich and hung and interesting and pretty boys was so much greater. It was like being a kid in a candy store, and I sampled the candy. But along with a great body, God gave me a very high IQ. I could do the work and still party.
Then I broke up with my heart throb Ramone because he couldn’t keep it in his pants and my next boyfriend got me drunk and drugged and in a back room at a Frat house wher je he and some of his friends were using me as a party toy. They were rough and they hurt me.
Until this figure swinging a sword like something out of a movie showed up (actually it was a fireplace poker) and started breaking bones and created a riot that brought the cops and sent me to the hospital where my parents discovered how I’d been drugged and torn up inside by the assault. And my dashing hero was a nobody I’d never seen before swathed in bandages and tubes because he’d been beaten so badly that his brain swelled in his skull. He’d been beaten, as one Frat brother pointed out, “because he wouldn’t stay down.”
And when I went to his room to see a guy that had risked his life for a stranger, his mother called me a “miserable slut” who wasn’t worth her son’s life and threw me out.
And that’s how I met Bill Maitland, the love of my life and father of my two children, before he gave me up for a stinking job and decided everybody else was more important than myself and our two children. It was before he left me too many nights using a vibrator for relief, before he let himself get old and fat and flabby to the point that his touch disgusted me. I finally got tired of propping up his self esteem because he was shorter and not as well endowed and good looking as the guys I’d gone with in college. I got tired of telling him he was the one that I walked away with. There comes a point when you want a guy to just get over it.
And Clarice, especially after her husband Frank left her for some young secretary he’d knocked up, always told me that Bill was cheating on me, that he had to be cheating on me. He was a powerful man and powerful men will always find women to bend over for them, no matter how fat and flabby they get.
“He’s not pushing you for sex because he’s getting all he wants at the office,” she kept telling me. I couldn’t imagine any woman being excited by that flabby body, but I could never get her words out of my head.
And so we rocked along until I met Doug Baker. Doug Baker was six-feet-three of solid, young male who had a rock hard midsection that I couldn’t help thinking about on nights when Bill pushed his flabby gut on top of me for his monthly mating. Five minutes of grunting and he was through and I lay there awake while he snored.
I never cheated, seriously, but I’d made up my mind to leave Bill. What we’d had was long gone and I felt like a 17-year-old around Doug. I wanted that feeling again. I was getting ready to turn 40 and I wasn’t ready to become my mother.
And then I said those four words. Our marriage crashed and burned and everybody made me out the bad guy and Bill the saint. Never mind his ignoring me and our kids. Never mind the fact that he was probably cheating on me for years.
And while he was making a new life for himself and slimming down and looking younger I was losing Doug and in the process of losing my kids and I lost my job and my career. And it was all his damned fault. And now I’m going to a psychiatrist to find out why Bill is literally making me sick. I’m throwing up all the time, and I have anger and rage at Bill that even I don’t understand. And all these damned people keep telling me that I still love him. They’re so full of shit. But I can’t get him out of my head.
I am Debra Bascomb/formerly Maitland. I am the administrator of the Public Defenders Office in Jacksonville, Florida, covering the three county circuit of Duval, Clay and Nassau Counties. I was formerly Associate Professor of Business at the University of North Florida until my asshole ex-husband destroyed my career.
From where I’m standing, yes. The author gives that position to my ex, Bill Maitland, because he’s got the sexy job of prosecutor with the State Attorney’s Office in Jacksonville. But his story is my story, and if there was any justice, it would be my story because I’m the best thing that ever happened to Bill. And he’s the one that destroyed our marriage and blighted my life, no matter how sorry for himself he’s feeling.
I fell in love with a short, insecure guy who has never trusted me, not really, in 20 years. He may say he has, but deep down I know he’s just been waiting for me to screw another guy to walk out on me. And when he did walk out on me, and destroyed my career at the same time, I gave him what he’d been wanting. I banged the living daylights out of a young stud and I didn’t regret one minute of it. So I divorced him and what did the sorry bastard do but slim down and get hot and start banging women all over the courthouse and hook up with this gorgeous French bitch who drives me crazy. It is not fair. He’s moving on, and I thought I was too, but he’s still messed up my head so bad I’m seeing a psychiatrist to find out why I want to kill him. That’s my problem. I want to move on and make a life without him, and it’s so much harder than I thought it would be.
Yeah, but I’m not going to tell you because it’s really at the heart of the problems Bill and I had, even though I would never admit to myself and he never realized it. Buy the book. It took me three volumes to figure it out.
I’m a good person. I was a good daughter, even if I was screwed up royally as a teen. But getting 38 d breasts when your friends are in training bras has a habit of doing that to you. (They grew to 38dd). I am a good mother. I was mother and father to our two children for most of their lives. St. Bill was nowhere to be found. I met an awkward, nerdy guy in college and chose him over guys that were better in bed and better looking and better life choices because I fell in love with him. I saved his ass from being kicked out of school because he’d lost weeks from injuries he suffered coming to my rescue. I gave up my dreams and worked to put him through law school because he came from genteel poverty and he never had to worry about money when I was working for the Hunt Bank. I saved his college career, I gave him his legal career and along the way I gave him the best sex he’ll ever have in his life, even with that bitch Aline des-Jardins. I was a faithful wife way beyond what anyone who knew what our bedroom was like would ever expect. And when I finally reached out to find some happiness for myself with a gorgeous young Assistant Professor Doug Baker, Bill destroyed my career and Doug’s in one night. Without even trying hard. And the asshole had the nerve to feel like he was the one that got screwed over.
I don’t have many friends. Men can’t take their eyes off my boobs and can’t stop trying to grab a feel. Old guys. Young guys. Friends of my son and daughter. If they have a penis, they’re making moves on me. The best male friend I ever had wanted me and had me, but he saw me as a person instead of a pair of big tits. He saw me as a professional who had made a career for myself and had the right to break away from a marriage that was killing me. He just thought I had made mistakes in the way I went about it. He’s gone now and I miss him more than anyone I never loved. Maybe I did, a little.
I don’t have many female friends. None of them trust me with their husbands or boyfriends. As if that’s my fault. If they can’t keep their men happy, that’s on me? The entire time I was with Bill I never cheated on him. Well, that’s not EXACTLY true. But the two times I touched another man I never….did anything girls don’t do in junior high. And the one man that I almost made a mistake with that I would have regretted, I was able to stop and walk away from. And trust me, there are not many women in Jacksonville that could say that. But, I do have one good female friend. Evelyn Criser is almost as hot as I am, so she’s not jealous and she understands what we go through with men from 7 to 70.
Flat chested ugly bitches see me as the evil seductress that lies awake plotting how to steal their old, bald, fat lovers. As if. Men I wouldn’t have looked at twice get their feelings hurt if I don’t drop and beg them to let me given them a blow job. As if I owe them sex just because they want it. Take it from me, being beautiful and hot is something I’d never give up, but it can be a royal pain in the ass.
I am an Associate Professor of Business at a major state university. Starting later than anybody I work with, I still made it up the ladder, played the political game, wrote the papers, did the research on corporate organization and almost made to full professor status before Bill blew me out the water. I was a good teacher, better than most around me because I knew what life in the real business world is really like and I did my best to prepare students for what they’d face when they walked into working offices.
I helped my ‘friend’ Bill get his undergraduate degree, worked my ass off to pay for his law school education, married him, gave him two children, went to their activities and cheered for them and played mother and father when they really needed two parents. And I tried, I really tried, to talk to him after our split, to ease the pain that he had to feel because he still loved me. But he wouldn’t talk to me, and he wouldn’t listen. But I reached out to him.
So many things that happened to me between the ages of 14 and 18 that there wouldn’t be room enough to list them. I was very young, and very stupid, and very horny and very stacked. I remember them, which is why I’ve tried so hard to keep my daughter Kelly from making the same mistakes.
Bobby Lovejoy who was two years ahead of me at Forrest High School in Jacksonville when I entered as a ninth grader. I had sex with him in his car, in empty classrooms, behind the school, in a few parks, at his house, at his friends’ houses. Almost anywhere he wanted, except at my parents’ home in my bedroom. Until I found out about him and Jan Smith.
There’s only been one – Bill Maitland. And there probably won’t ever be another one like him. Maybe that’s a good thing. Because I think sometimes he almost killed me, even though I dumped him. Maybe we ought to settle for comfortable friendship and convenient lust, because love hurts entirely too much.
Probably The “Human League.” Because Bill loved them and thus I heard their songs when Bill and I were young and in love and they still bring back those times.
If it was going to be for a month or less, a woman. It would be relaxing not to have to go through the whole man/woman thing for a while. More than a month, a man. Hot hopefully. I’ve gone too long without sex and I don’t want to make a habit of it.
Hopefully I’ll find another man to love and share my life with. Hopefully I’ll finally be able to shake off the anger and rage and emotions that Bill still rouses in me and realize he’s not the most important part of my life anymore. He’ll always be important, because of our children. And because he is a good man and truly one of a kind. But I don’t want him to be my heart. I want to be happy without him. And I want to raise our son and daughter to make good marriages and make Bill and I proud grandparents. And most of all, I never want them to read the emails between Doug and I before my marriage to Bill crashed and burned.When We Were Married - Volume One - The Long Fall