Rose Parker’s husband has been lying. About everything.
When a conversation with her husband triggers questions, Rose Parker uncovers alarming answers that shatter her perfect life. But it is only when she shoves her belongings in her SUV and drives off that Rose realizes just how far from perfect her life actually was. She has nowhere to turn.
While debating between distressing sleeping arrangements–her mother’s house full of questions or a hotel room with too much solitude–Rose bumps into an acquaintance from her gardening class and allows bubbly, exuberant Becky to indulge her in a wild night full of whiskey, weeping, and whispered confidences. Suddenly, Rose has a new friend, a roof over her head, and two gorgeous men moving her out of her marital home.
As Rose struggles to settle into her new life, she remains determined to comprehend her past. And with time and distance and especially wine, comes knowledge. Frank wasn’t the only one lying to her. Rose was lying to herself.
Tea abandoned, I floated back upstairs and dropped into his chair, not certain I could be bothered to continue. Even if confronted, I was more certain than ever that Frank would never tell me the truth.
I swallowed down the doubts Frank’s pile of lies had created and resumed typing every last thing I knew about Frank, from “Rocky,” the cat he had when he was ten–which took me forever to remember–to the word “money.” Nothing I knew about him cracked his code. That his laptop was even password-protected in the first place gnawed at me, chewing away at the trust I had in my husband.
I tried my name. Of course not.
I rolled my aching shoulders back in circles and rubbed my forehead. I looked around the office for clues. What was Frank’s favorite thing? What could he have used? Please don’t let it be some combination of numbers I would never crack, like his first cell phone number or his childhood phone number, I thought.
Frank’s favorite things. What did he love the most?
What did Frank love the most?
I whipped my head up and punched in “Frank.” The laptop beeped and shuddered to life beneath my wrists.
The deep throaty cackle that flew from my lips stopped abruptly and my heart dropped down to my toes. Birds twittered outside while I stared at Frank’s computer. The internet browser remained open where he had left off. This morning? He was up here before he left. He spent a lot of time up here. Alone.
Breasts that defied both gravity and imagination took up half the screen. I glanced down at my B cup. Did it mean he didn’t like mine?
What were those tassels covering the nipples? Wait, were those even tassels? Was that a chain? And…clamps?
I reached for the mouse and clicked.
I pressed down again. And again. And again.
I didn’t know much about porn, but even I knew this wasn’t what the average Joe searched for. One image and I might have been able to excuse it as an email joke, but thirteen of them strung across open browser tabs and I couldn’t come to any other conclusion.
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” I said, repeating the phrase I’d heard all my life as I threw myself down the rabbit hole and opened Frank’s browser history.
I scrolled down the list of links. There were hundreds. I forced myself to breathe and began clicking. It was like a car wreck I couldn’t help but gawk at. Except I was scanning through the deepest fantasies of a man I apparently knew nothing about.
A porn addiction wasn’t the worst thing I could have found, I thought, my mind drifting over an affair and moving on as another image appeared.
It’s just fantasy, it’s just fantasy, I repeated to myself, the mouse growing hot in my hand. Our sex life was decent. Frank had never asked me for anything kinky in bed–and this stuff definitely qualified as kinky. That meant it was only fantasy. Right? Frank had never requested I wear leather, chains, or clamps. He’d never produced handcuffs or whips. He’d never even tied me to the bedpost with a silk scarf. Or vice versa. We were pretty vanilla when it came to sex. There was no spicy chai in our repertoire.
I opened another link. Why was this classifieds page in with all the others? We had no need for used items, job searches, or garage sales. I scanned the page further, my second glance revealing something even more sinister. I rubbed my arms, suddenly chilly.
I clicked the one highlighted link on the page, following Frank’s trail.
Personal ads flooded the page. Over half were marked as viewed, further cementing Frank’s unusual interests and illuminating the fact that he was searching.
Frank was searching.
I blinked to clear the blurry screen and scanned the page. Frank’s name appeared in the top right hand corner. He had an account. And he hadn’t logged off. My hand felt like it had been dipped in molasses when I forced my finger to press down.
I landed in Frank’s fantasy inbox. Messages crowded the screen.
A rushing sound filled my ears.
I read one after another, unable to stop. Names. Dates. Times. Places.
It wasn’t just fantasy. It wasn’t just fantasy.
I rocked back and forth in the chair, staring at the screen. My breath slowed into a steady rhythm. Everything slowed, including my heart. I thought it would stop.
I found myself wishing it was an affair. One person. Messages from Mistress Marlena, Dominatrix Debbie, and Queen Kiki tied up my mind. Probably like they tied up my husband.
Review Rating: 4 LIGHTNING BOLTS
Review: Life is full of curveballs. Surprises. Things that come out of left field that maybe you should have seen coming, but didn't. This is exactly what happens to Rose, and from there, she has a lot of decisions to make. Redesigning Rose is a novel that delves into the matter of what to do now? She's been oblivious to all the wrongdoings her husband has done, and she's been in denial.
With the help and support of her best friend Becky, Rose goes on a revamp. A new design of her life, her heart, and everything that she's kept hidden for so long. Rose has definitely grown and leaned as a character from the beginning to end, and reading her journey and transformation kept me glued to the pages. Ms. Laceby's beautiful novel is certainly one many can relate to on one level or another. I know I did. A Job well done!
Lydia Laceby Bio:
is a co-founder of the fiction book blog, . Since 2009, she has read and reviewed as much women’s fiction as humanly possible while designing, organizing and expanding the blog from two reviewers to seven.
In her spare time, she knits cute baby hats, would pick cheese over chocolate, and longs for the days she was able to cheat on her allergy free diet.
Lydia began her career writing a soap opera at the tender age of thirteen. It never aired. is her first novel.
Twitter: @lydialaceby - https://twitter.com/lydialaceby
Goodreads link: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17451902-redesigning-rose
Amazon link: http://www.amazon.com/Redesigning-Rose-ebook/dp/B00DFJEASG/ref=sr_1_1_bnp_1_kin?ie=UTF8&qid=1380636548&sr=8-1&keywords=lydia+laceby
Chapters-Indigo Link: http://www.chapters.indigo.ca/books/redesigning-rose/9780991990221-item.html?ikwid=redesigning+rose&ikwsec=Home&gcs_requestid=0CJiqm53T9rkCFQwn5wodH0QAAA