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Back The Wrong Family Save as PDF
Chapters (46)
  1. Praise
  2. Booklist
  3. Dedication
  4. About the Author
  5. Part One
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. Part Two
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. Part Three
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. EPILOGUE
  42. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  43. Reader’s Guide
  44. Discussion Questions
  45. The Wrong Family Author Q & A
  46. The Wives

Do you have any must-have routines or rituals as a writer that help you focus?

There are things I can’t have: obligations. Obligations crush any desire to create. If I know I have to be somewhere or do something, I can’t focus. I need to be able to wander in and out of my office at leisure to type a hundred words here or there, and I need to know I don’t have anywhere else to be. So when I dive into a book, I become largely unsocial and unresponsive to friends and events. I guess that’s how writers end up alone.

Can you tell us anything about what you’re working on next?

Yes, it’s going to be another unique story line, but this one is less cerebral than The Wives and The Wrong Family. It’s instinctive and fast-paced—visceral.

I’m writing about a hunted woman who is hiding in plain sight. If you hunt a woman for long enough, she will evolve to be the stronger thing. My new character is the badass we need right now.

The Wives

by Tarryn Fisher

1

He comes over on Thursday every week. That’s my day, I’m Thursday. It’s a hopeful day, lost in the middle of the more important days; not the beginning or the end, but a stop. An appetizer to the weekend. Sometimes I wonder about the other days and if they wonder about me. That’s how women are, right? Always wondering about each other—curiosity and spite curdling together in little emotional puddles. Little good that does; if you wonder too hard, you’ll get everything wrong.

I set the table for two. I’m a little buzzed as I lay out the silverware, pausing to consider the etiquette of what goes where. I run my tongue along my teeth and shake my head. I’m being silly; it’s just me and Seth tonight—an at-home date. Not that there’s anything else—we don’t do regular dates very often at the risk of being seen. Imagine that…not wanting to be seen with your husband. Or your husband not wanting to be seen with you. The vodka I sipped earlier has warmed me, made my limbs loose and careless. I almost knock over the vase of flowers as I place a fork next to a plate: a bouquet of the palest pink roses. I chose them for their sexual innuendo because when you’re in a position like mine, being on top of your sexual game is of the utmost importance. Look at these delicate, pink petals. Do they make you think of my clit? Good!