TITLE: Dragonfly: The Beginning
GENRE: Women's Fiction
When Cynthia Marshal was a teenager she devised seventeen ways to kill her mother. Forty years later both of them were still going strong. It wasn't so much that she wanted her mother dead . . . just gone. Red sticky fluid seeped through the bottom edge and dripped onto the kitchen counter. "Damn it." Cynthia smacked the off button of the whirring blender, lifted the leaking glass container from its wet nest, and held it over the sink.
Stupid girl. You're never going to get it right.
She grasped the sopping bottom and twisted it tight.
How many times have I told you . . .
If only she had an off button for that cursed radio in her head where her mother had taken up residence and was broadcasting 24/7. She plunked the slippery container onto the gray tiles, and Minou, her calico cat, jumped up to lap at the generous puddle of strawberry juice and yogurt. Hot tears pushed themselves out. "Damn it. Get a grip, woman! You're fifty-two--fifty-three--years old for heaven's sake." She yanked for a paper towel and pulled the whole roll into the spreading pool of her breakfast drink.
You always were sloppy.
She slapped the tap on full and stuck her hands under the gush. The cold water on her face made her gasp, blocking out her mother's voice, but when she caught her breath . . .
You'll never amount to anything. You--
She slammed the tap off and the cat flattened its ears