A MORAL DILEMMA
Carole's Book Corner is delighted to be part of Fiction Addiction's Book Tours and today a Moral Dilemma by Zara Kingsley is on Tour!
Rebecca Hardy wasn’t a naturally deceptive person, though she took quite well to the art
of deception. Too well perhaps. She liked to think of it as helping someone out. Female
camaraderie and all that. But it had gone too far. She had gone too far. She had, after all,
ruined someone’s life. Hadn’t she?
Having theatrically caught her boyfriend cheating, Rebecca, convinced she was born in the
wrong era, has had it with these modern day men. She has even less regard for these immoral
modern day women, (of which she highly suspects her best female friend Abigail is one),
who tend to prey on men in committed relationships. What is wrong with them?! Don’t they
care that they’re breaking hearts and destroying lives?! Rebecca, with her high morals and
family values, would never even consider dating a married man. Which is exactly why, it
is of no surprise her friends are at serious odds, when Rebecca finds herself doing exactly
that. Dating a married man. Albeit, at the fervent request of his wife; the notorious Isabella
In A Moral Dilemma Rebecca's best friends thinks she's just an old-fashioned girl in gorgeous modern day packaging and a boring old frump. When she catches her boyfriend cheating on her their words seem to ring true in that she doesn't know how to keep a man happy,
When one of her wealthy clients at the exclusive Pamper Moi Beauty Salon offers her a huge amount of money to test her husband's unfaithfulness she is in a moral dilemma.
I think it's fair to say that this is not one of my favourite reads. It just did not hold my interest, I thought the pacing was a little slow in parts, particularly the first part of the book. I did not find it funny. It did pick up slightly when Rebecca met the wealthy Isabella Coombs' husband and there were some fun moments but overall this book and I were just not made for each other!
On the plus side, I really liked Rebecca, she was very moral, loyal, honest and the sort of person I would love to have as a best friend.
I know this is a popular read and if you want to read a more positive review check out Tea Party Princess as she really enjoyed it and she's done a fab review.
Also, check out this excerpt from the first chapter.
I had to do it. He’d left me with no other conceivable choice. He seemed intent on driving
me crazy, turning me into a dithering, pathetic, neurotic maniac. The lying toe-rag!!
“Becky, sweetie,” he would gently croon, whenever I’d mention the distinct scent of
Dior about him. “It’s all in your imagination. You know you’re the only one for me.” Then
more vigorously, “What the bloody hell is wrong with you!” when confronted with the
unmistakable evidence of lippie on his shirt collar. “You really are going stark raving mad.”
And I thought I was. For a while. His reverse psychology skills were second to none. So I
made a decision to either prove myself sane, or allow myself to be declared insane! I set
about achieving mission (according-to-him) impossible, and catch him in the act.
I’d always fancied myself as a bit of an actress. I was still dancing around my bedroom
at home, singing merrily into the hairbrush when I was sixteen years old! Yes, Annie had
definitely left its mark on me. In fact, after watching that film, for the remainder of my
childhood, I had wanted to be Annie (without the ginger hair and freckles, of course). I
desperately wanted to be rescued by Mr Squillion Billion Dollar Man and have a dog called
Rufus. Needless to say I never got rescued – but I definitely ended up with the dog. His
name is Jeremy. And today I caught him cheating. So tonight, I’m kicking his lying toe-rag
arse out of our apartment.
OK, I say I caught him cheating; well he wasn’t actually in the full throes of fornication
or anything like that. It was more of a…foreplay situation, which in my world still counts. So
how did I catch him? Well, like I said, I’ve always fancied myself as a bit of an actress, so;
black bobbed wig, reading glasses, camcorder – hired not bought – even less make-up than
usual, i.e. basically none, so as not to draw attention to myself, and a shot of brandy (YUK)
for Dutch courage.
Wheelers, was an average enough, discreet British pub, on an average enough discreet City
street, and was also Jeremy’s choice location for a not so discreet illicit tryst.
“Look, would you be ordering something or not lass?” the barman asked me with a
slight Irish accent.
Shoo shoo shoo I had wanted to say, but for fear of him drawing any more attention to
me, and in light of the fact that he was actually blocking my view of Jeremy and Miss Thingy,
I quickly deduced that I had in fact better order something. “Coke please,” I snapped off,
throwing down a fiver.
“Diet or regular?”
Oh for chrissakes, will you just move! Aargh! “Regular!”
“No!” rolling my eyes. He actually seemed to be enjoying this little exchange. Maybe
he knew Jeremy and knew what both he and I were up to?! No. Not possible.
“Look, can you get me a coke or not?” I hissed.
“OK, OK, keep yer knickers on,” he said smiling cheekily and finally turned to go get
me a drink. I quickly realigned myself to get a better view over the bar and through the
window to the courtyard where Jeremy, the bastard, and Thingy were sitting extremely
close to each other and laughing easily at this point. Still not incriminating evidence, but
the night was young. I saw Jeremy lean into her and started talking into her ear. I would’ve
said ‘whispering’ but he didn’t know how to whisper sweet nothings at the best of times
let alone after he’d had a few, which by the way his face was flushed and his tie, usually
perfectly positioned, was loosened and off centre, he obviously had.
“There you go now. Coke and change,” said the barman. I ignored him and continued
fidgeting with my camcorder, hidden behind by handbag, whilst still keeping a sharp eye
on the fornicators. “Pity you don’t get to catch the conversation with those things from a
“You need to get up real close to them to record conversation.”
“I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about,” I said turning beetroot, and
started to scuffle about with the camcorder, desperately trying to stuff it back into my bag.
“Oh,” he leaned back comfortably against the bar, folded up his arms and nodded
toward Jeremy and Thingy. “I thought for a sec you were spying on that pair.”
“I beg your pardon?!” trying my best to sound alarmed but at the same time careful
not to draw any attention to myself…
“Oh, it’s no skin off my nose either way,” he said, “but let’s assume you were spying
on that pair.”
“Which I am most definitely not!” I said furiously, whilst still trying to shove my
camcorder back into my bag, but what, with my current state of panic and the fact that
every time my head bent down my wig was starting to slip forward, I couldn’t quite manage
“Ah, but, if you were, you’d be doing it all wrong.” I looked up at him from under the
fringe of my wig. “You’re too far away to even know what’s going on.”
“As I’ve already told you, I am not spying on anyone. But IF I were, I am able to see
quite clearly exactly what’s going on.”
“Ah jaysus, you can’t tell a thing from what you see. They could just be having a great
crack, with nothin’ in it at all.”
“Oh he’s having a crack all right.” I slumped on the bar, completely fed up, with the
camcorder sticking out recklessly from my bag. I’d given up trying to tuck it away, just as
I’d given up trying to film them. He was right of course. The barman. The footage I’d so
painstakingly gathered proved nothing at all. Jeremy would be able to talk his way out
of this one in a nano-second, and I knew that I’d believe whatever he would tell me, as
per usual, because although I had doubts, many, many doubts, I never ever had any real
concrete evidence of any disloyalty. We watched them silently for a few seconds, but when
Jeremy slipped his hand up Miss Thingy’s skirt and started talking into her ear again, I just
squeezed my eyes shut so I wouldn’t have to see, and so the barman couldn’t see the tears
of humiliation that were starting to well up.
“Look, just pass it here,” he said reaching out his hand to me.
“The camcorder. I’ll get up close and record what they’re saying for yer.” I gave
an incredulous stare and opened my mouth to say something, then as if on autopilot, I
handed him the camcorder. “Ah, you can thank me later,” he said with a wink. And was off.
Headed in their direction with the camcorder hidden underneath a bar towel on a tray. My
heart started hammering against my ribcage and I wanted to dive under the bar and hide as
he got to their table and started hovering, collecting glasses, wiping, and re-placing
ashtrays. I half expected Jeremy to look up and wave at me but he didn’t even notice the
barman floating around. Too engrossed in impressing Miss Thingy, which by the way she
was giggling and batting her false eye lashes at each word he uttered, seemed easy enough
to do. I looked at her. She was the complete opposite to me in every sense. Blonde,
curvaceous, overly made up. She looked around twenty-eight but was probably twenty-four,
whereas I may look twenty-four but am actually twenty-eight. She wasn’t so special. Fake
hair, fake tits, fake tan. She was exactly the kind of girl that Jeremy would frequently refer
to as “just a bit of fluff”. He would never betray me with just a bit of fluff… Would he? All of
a sudden I knew that I did not want to know the answer to that question. I realised that I
have never ever really wanted to know. I could live with my doubts. We had a good life
together. He did love me, (albeit in his own bizarre way), and never made me feel anything
other than number one…at least whilst he was in my presence. But that was OK. I could deal
with that. What, I suddenly realised, I could not deal with, and more importantly did not
want to deal with, was the actual factual knowledge that Jeremy, the man with whom I have
built a wonderful life with and am expecting to grow graciously old with, would cheat on
me. Because unlike a doubt which I can quite simply cast away to the back of my mind and
allow it to gather cobwebs, a ‘fact’ would be a different matter altogether. A ‘fact’, a real life
evidential fact, would most definitely need to be addressed. I felt a sudden stab of horror at
that realisation; and started flapping my hands about like a maniac trying to catch the
“Come Back! Come Back!” I mouthed in animation, but he just ignored me and moved
to the other side of the table so he was standing right beside Jeremy as he moved in for
another close-up with Miss Thingy. I watched the barman, wondering if he could hear what
they were saying, and I swear I practically expired when I saw him shake a heavy head in
The barman looked at me with an unfortunately sombre face as he came back to the
bar. “Er, look lass, it’s none of my business…but is he your fella?”
“Yes. He is my boyfriend,” I said indignantly, and as he looked down with tight lips, I
added with upturned chin, “Of several years in fact.”
“Right. Well…maybe you don’t really want to be listening to what’s on here then.” He
tapped the camcorder and gave me a sympathetic look that knocked the wind out of me. He
felt sorry for me. And he felt sorry for me because of what he’d heard Jeremy say to Miss
Thingy? I inhaled deeply and stared at him defiantly, though I’m not sure why, as it really
wasn’t his fault my boyfriend was a lying cheating toe-rag.
“It’s my camcorder and I shall bloody well listen to it if I so choose.” I feigned calmness
as I placed the evidential camcorder into my bag and hopped down off the bar stool.
“You might want to have a…friend…come sit with you as you watch it though.” I
swallowed hard and tried blinking really fast, but it was already too late. One must always
be grateful for the small mercies in life, I said to myself, thinking at least I wouldn’t end up
with panda eyes as there was no mascara to smudge. I nodded my thanks to the barman
and turned to leave, but not before taking one last look at the joyful Jeremy, now nestling
into Thingy’s neck. Jeremy. Humph. The love of my life.
About the Author
Luckily Zara Kingsley was born and raised in a City she loves living in: London, UK. And it’s
just as well, as she can barely afford to go on a camping holiday much less move. She has
an adorable 9yr old daughter, and is a single mom, who likes to think of herself as a bit of
a yummy mummy, when in reality she’s still working on shifting a tonne of cellulite of her
ass. She does actually make it into the gym from time to time, but admits that such visits are
mainly to appreciate the…ahem …view
So what kind of stuff does she write?
Well, she writes what she loves reading: Romantic Comedy and the original kind of British
Chick Lit. She doesn’t do vampires, werewolves, or horror. So if you like Bridget Jones or
Shopaholic, then you might dig her stuff.
Zara Kingsley’s heroines are women in their late twenties / early thirties. Her heroes are hot,
cute and not too hunky. Her stories are about life, love and friendship, with a few twists and
turns and tons of fun. They’re not particularly deep, nor meaningful, they’re a light-hearted,
easy read, that go well with a glass of wine and a few chocs, and just might make you laugh
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00J23I0S0
Amazon USA: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00J23I0S0
Overall giveaway on tour is 1 x ecopy of A Moral Dilemma plus Amazon GC $35/£20.
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