Aimée Therres's Fiction Page

MY AFFAIR WITH ALFRED is my first novel. It is available from major online book sellers, or you may order it from your local bookstore (ISBN: 1-4241-5288-7).

The novel begins as a young married couple finally decide to take the trip to Germany that they have discussed for years. When they arrive in Germany, Emily begins having dreams of her past lives. She is unaware of why she is having these dreams. Accompanying the dreams is a sickness that is debilitating at times. Al and Emily cannot figure out what is wrong. The young married couple have different views about when they should have children, but little do they know, Emily is already pregnant. Will Emily overcome her mysterious illness? Will these dreams drive her to insanity? Will Al and Emily's relationship survive this German vacation?

Each chapter of the novel is titled with a line from "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T. S. Elliot. Click here to read an excerpt.

To roll it toward some overwhelming question...

The town around me changed before my eyes. Buildings disappeared, peoples' clothes changed and I saw Alfred standing on a platform with people around him furiously yelling questions that he seemed unable to answer. He was sweating and looking around as if he needed find some way to escape through the crowd, to run free from this predicament. He looked over toward me and the crowd followed his gaze. "There she is," I heard someone scream and saw the crowd rushing toward me. I tried to run but found it hard. Looking down, I noticed my belly was swollen with child and I was so big that it was near impossible to run. I wasn't this pregnant, I had just found out. The crowd soon overtook me and they were carrying me up to the platform, using old rags to tie my hands together.

They put me at the feet of Alfred only he was wearing an outfit as if he was an old time minister. The mob began yelling "kill her, kill the whore!" Alfred looked down at me he didn't want me to die. I could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at me. He looked at me like he was trying to say sorry with his eyes, like he was trying to tell me he couldn't help it, but he said, "Let it be done."

The crowd picked me up again and I was looking around. Where could they be taking me? How could I get away?