Blue Butterfly Series by D.H. Sidebottom

The Devil visited me three times in my life; albeit, my short life. Not in the physical sense, you must understand, but very much literally. He was persistent, resolute and tenacious. His ruthless greed to annihilate me was utterly disturbing. I am sure if he had hierarchy, the man at the top would have dragged his arse into Hell’s prison for his unscrupulous methods. I was just fifteen when I first became aware of what he was capable of... moreThe Devil visited me three times in my life; albeit, my short life. Not in the physical sense, you must understand, but very much literally. He was persistent, resolute and tenacious. His ruthless greed to annihilate me was utterly disturbing. I am sure if he had hierarchy, the man at the top would have dragged his arse into Hell’s prison for his unscrupulous methods. I was just fifteen when I first became aware of what he was capable of. This initial taste of him set the playing field for how my life was to be lived – for want of a better word. He mocked me, showed me mercilessly how he played the game and how he liked to cheat at said game. He ridiculed and taunted me until, six months later, he won and took something of so much importance from me that I would never be the same again. His second visit was, in my eyes, so much more cruel and heartless. I know we’re talking about the Devil here, and yes, you have a right to say he had no heart but even then, even when I was so utterly broken, I begged to differ and hoped – no, prayed – that somewhere deep in the caverns of his black, tortured soul there was something that beat and confused his emotions once in a while. The third visit was somewhat different than the other two. He tried, and at first succeeded to bring me to my knees once and for all, but then something happened. God finally intervened and altered Satan’s intention; he sent hope and morphed the Devil’s minion into an Angel, hoping to break and shatter the anguish and suffering. He gave the ability for me to feel pleasure in pain, order in the chaos and light in the darkness. But in giving me a reprieve, he also gave me something that would finally and ultimately obliterate me. He gave me the capability to love, therefore giving me the ability to be destroyed. And Satan made sure that I was destroyed. Cruelly, viciously and sadistically. I am Mae Swift, and this is the story of my decimation. ***WARNING*** This story doesn’t contain hearts and flowers, it doesn’t even contain the word ‘love’. It isn’t for the fainthearted, nor those who want romance and happy ever afters. It’s dark, in fact it goes beyond the dark realms of misery and despair. It contains disturbing scenes of sexual violence, cruelty and torture. It also includes self-harm, pain addiction and brutalisation. Please bear this in mind before purchasing this book. Thank you. less

The second book in the Blue butterfly series. Mae had taught me many things; the ability to smile, that hope was a real ideal and most of all that I was worthy of love. Annie also showed me that. She showed me how to see the good things in life. How to sing with the birds every morning, how to laugh when flour and egg decorated the kitchen walls and how to feel the warmth of the sun every day. She also proved that I could love with an engulfing force. And I did... moreThe second book in the Blue butterfly series. Mae had taught me many things; the ability to smile, that hope was a real ideal and most of all that I was worthy of love. Annie also showed me that. She showed me how to see the good things in life. How to sing with the birds every morning, how to laugh when flour and egg decorated the kitchen walls and how to feel the warmth of the sun every day. She also proved that I could love with an engulfing force. And I did. I loved my daughter with every fibre of me and every raw nerve that had once only felt pain. My heart swelled with each of her cheeky smiles and every single sweet echo of her voice. My daughter was very much her mother’s child. From the lustre of her ebony hair to her twinkling sky blue eyes and from the way her smile lifted my heart, to the way her stubborn side exasperated me. I was strong in my beliefs. Determined to raise her the way her mother had wanted me to. But Annie, like Mae, found the funny side to life so effortlessly. She laughed easily and frequently, she delighted in simple things and braved each daily troubles optimistically. And I followed her. She taught me how to live as I taught her how to grow. And just as I relaxed into life as a father, my father found his way back into mine. As did Connie, Mae’s dead sister. Goodbyes can’t be taken back. The past refuses to be varied. And death cannot be reversed… Or can it? less