Dad & Daughter Body Swap

We have a new book in the works called ‘Swap Therapy’

See a sample below.

“Jim sat alone in his dimly lit family room. The TV was silent as the pictures on the screen continued flickering on, ever so lightly illuminating the room. His cup of coffee, on the side table next to his armchair, had gone long cold during his time waiting for his daughter to finally come home. She had told him that she would be home for dinner that evening but had yet to come home after school. The frustration he felt, at her not coming home on time, even when he insisted she be home for dinner, was almost tipping him over the point of pure anger at her behavior. Looking at the clock on the wall, which read quarter to ten at night, made him stressfully wipe his brow. Feeling the anger rise up within himself, Jim slams his meaty-sized left hand on the surface of the nearby side table. This causes the picture on the table to fall over with a loud crack.

“Shit!” Jim mutters as he picks up the picture to examine if it was broken or not.

He investigates the frame first and finds no issue. Upon inspecting the glass front of the picture he finds a small crack. He runs his finger over the crack as he looks down at what is a picture of his late wife and his daughter. The picture is of the three of them at the beach. His wife and daughter are smiling from ear to ear. Giving a wry smile, Jim starts remembering that day at the beach. His daughter, Felicity, was twelve at the time and she had bugged them both to let her try surfing for months before. Thinking back at how bad they all were at surfing and how much fun they all had, he couldn’t help but smile at the memory. The picture even captured a little of the joy, Felicity, and her mum clearly enjoying themselves. Jim concentrated his gaze at his late wife. Her sparkingly blue eyes, beaming smile, sexy messy hair, and stunning figure were only eclipsed by the wonderful person she was. He remembers just how she used to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

“Alice, I miss you,” He says softly as he runs his finger over the picture of his late wife.

Jim’s eyes well up as he continues to look at the picture and focuses his attention on himself. Looking at himself in the picture, he gives a small but deflated chuckle. The girls, that day at the beach, had him doing all the carrying. Jim was in the background of the picture, lugging the surfboards around, and struggling with it. He was somewhat envious of how good he looked in his wetsuit. His wavey brown hair, rugged build, and lack of the emerging beer belly, that he has today. Jim knows he’s let himself go, but understands that his daughter’s upbringing is the most important thing for him to concentrate on, especially after Alice’s accident one year ago.

His thoughts turn to his beautiful daughter. Looking at the picture, he couldn’t help but wish for that time back again, when she was fun-loving, just like her mom. Staring at the picture, he started thinking just how much Felicity was starting to look just like her mom, even in the picture taken four years ago. Felicity had inherited her mom’s wavy golden hair and piercing blue eyes. Jim knew that as Felicity got older, he would see Alice in her more and more. He knew that he’d have to push past the feelings of sorrow every time he looked into his daughter’s eyes. Jim wipes a single tear from his cheek, as he delicately places the picture back in its place.

“Why do you have to be so much like your mom?” Jim questions allowed as he looks up at the clock and realizes that Felicity is now four hours late.

At that moment, car headlights beam into the darkened room, as a car pulls onto the driveway out front. Jim turns the TV off so the room becomes completely pitch black. Jumping out of his chair, as his emotions start running high, peeps out of the window. He sees a black car, with a young man sitting behind the wheel. Leaning into the car, from the passaging side, he sees his daughter. He can’t contemplate just how sluty she looked to him. She was wearing high heels, fishnet stockings, a tight tank top, and the shortest skirt he’d ever seen. His frustration was growing by the minute as he watched her amble up to the front door of the house, barely able to walk in the sluty shoes she had on. Standing in the archway to the family room and front hallway, he waited for her to enter the house. Jim took a deep breath as Felicity slowly and quietly opened the front door, clearly to avoid being caught coming home so late. She opens the door and walks through, slipping off her heels as she does. Just before Felicity can start to creep upstairs to her room, Jim flicks the switch on the hallway light. She stops in her tracks, like a dear in headlights.

“Felicity Iris Wright!” Jim booms. “You were supposed to be back at six today! What do you have to say for yourself, young lady!” Jim questions as he stands arms folded.

“Oh come on!” Felicity moans. “I never agreed to that dad!”

“You don’t get a choice young lady!” Jim asserts, as he grabs her shoulder and gently turns her to face him directly. “You are my responsibility, you need to do as I tell you!”

“How is that fair!?” Felicity complains as she swipes Jim’s hand from her shoulder. “Just because you don’t have a life, doesn’t mean I can’t have one!”

Jim wipes his brow in stress before placing his hand gently on her shoulder once more. “Look, Flic,” He says compassionately, trying not to allow his frustration to boil over. “I had no idea where you’d gone or with who.”

“Take your hand off my shoulder!” Felicity complains. “I was with friends, is that ok with you, Master?” she says sarcastically.

“Flic, it’s past ten at night. No, that’s not ok! Why didn’t you send a message or something!” Jim replies. Felicity rolls her eyes and shakes Jim’s hand from her shoulder.

“I didn’t message you, because I knew you’d act like this!” She answers back with fire in her eyes. “Mom would have been ok with it, why aren’t you!” She yells with hurtful intent. Jim, hurt by his daughter’s words takes a step back from her. He leans on a nearby wall and tries to shake off her tongue lashing. He looks down at the floor and shakes his head from side to side.

“That’s not fair, Flic,” Jim replies with a hint of sadness.

“Well nothing is fair in this house is it?” Felicity barks back as she starts stamping up the staircase towards her room. “It’s your fault she’s not here anymore!”

“Stop right their young lady!” Jim snaps in anger.

“What now!?” Flic grones. “Am I no longer allowed to breathe under your strict rules?”

Jim slams his fist on the nearby side table with a huge thud, frustrated by his daughter’s attitude. This almost causes the lamp on the table, to fall over. Glaring directly at her, as she stands frozen, shocked by her father’s reaction.

“That’s it, young lady! You aren’t going to prom!” He bellows, causing his whole face to go red.

Tears start appearing in Felicity’s eyes as she stares down at her angry father. She doesn’t know if she wants to burst out into tears or flip out with rage. Her growing emotions make her grip tightly on the handrail to try and keep some control.

“You can’t do that!” She moans, tears now running down her face.

“Yes, I can!” Jim replies, still fuming. “Your not going, end of!”

“Dad, your such a cock!” Felicity cries as she throws her hair scrunchy at him. “I hate you!”

Felicity runs up the rest of the staircase, sobbing. As she reaches her room, she slams the door shut as hard as she can. Jim, at the base of the staircase, can only listen, as the sound of his daughter sobbing uncontrollably in her room, fills the silence. Sitting on the bottom step, he holds his hands in his head.

“Good work, Jim.” He mutters under his breath.

After a few agonizing minutes of listening to Felicity cry, Jim decides he needs to at least try and talk with her. Remembering what his late wife, Alice, used to do for Flic when she was upset, he makes his way into the kitchen. He pours out a glass of milk and grabs some chocolate chip cookies from the cupboards. Making his way up the staircase, to Flic’s room, he can’t help but feel awful. Her crying was almost reminiscent of how upset she was during Alice’s funeral. Gently tapping on her bedroom door a couple of times, he hears her move around in her room.

“Flic, I’ve brought some milk and cookies up. I think she should talk,” Jim says softly through the bedroom door.

“No, I hate you! Go away!” Flic cries back.

Jim knocks again. “Hunny, come on. Let’s talk.” He pleads.

“No,” she tearfully replies. “I’m going to sleep now, so just go away!”

Still not getting the hint, Jim doesn’t want to just leave it. He Gives the door another gentle tap, hoping Flic will let him in. No answers as he stands in the hallway, with milk and cookies in hand.

“I just worry about you Flic,” he tries to explain through the doorway, still hoping she will talk with him.

Still no answer. Putting his ear to the bedroom door, he could hear her still sobbing. He felt so dreadful but he also knew it was a lost cause. Arguments with her had started becoming a regular thing ever since Alice died. Jim just didn’t know how to handle her anymore. He didn’t know if it was her hormones or if he just couldn’t relate to her anymore. All he knew was that he wished his wife was around to support him. Putting the milk and cookies down in front of the door, Jim walked, dejected back to his room. Slumping onto the bed, Jim let out a massive sigh. Roughing up his hair with his hands, he couldn’t help but feel completely lost on what to do with his daughter.

Jim reaches over to his bedside stand and the picture of his wife that he keeps on it. He looks lovingly down at the picture which causes tears to swell in his eyes. Running his finger over the picture of Alice, he starts wondering what she would do. Holding the picture close to his face, he wipes away the tears from his eyes.

“What would you do?” He asks the picture. “I wish you could help me! I wish you could help me understand our daughter!” He cries in pain.”