Contemporary Romance

Kat & Maus


This book will launch on Nov 21, 2020. Currently, only those with the link can see it. 🔒

Mark Bell is a top Beverly Hills defense attorney. He becomes obsessed with proving his wife Kat's loyalty after discovering a hidden cache of journals and intimate photos which document a sexual appetite she has never shared with him -- even though they have been married for 10 years.

Mark broods over Kat's journals -- until fate provides away for him to test Kat's loyalty. It's brilliant -- as long as Kat never finds out.

Chapter 1

Mark Bell’s wife, Kat, seemed like an afternoon breeze, floating in

unannounced, interrupting the staff with her easy smile and gentle

ways. She would bring Mark lunch every day and was often seen

counting out his vitamins and placing them precisely next to her

picture in a sterling silver frame. That was just how she was. She took

good care of him. Then, one day, Mark removed the photo. Kat never

came by after that.

There was much speculation about what had happened, but

nobody dared ask Mark. The one person who seemed to know

anything was Sesami Lee, his law clerk. But she was the type who

kept a secret well, never gossiping about her boss.

The cleaning lady discovered Kat’s photo face down in the bottom

of Mark’s waste bin. She had never met the lady but she must be

somebody to have her picture in such a fine silver frame, she thought,

as she cleaned the glass and set it on the counter in the ladies’ room.

It is fair to say that nobody knew Kat Connor enough to gauge the

truth, but there was one certainty. The trouble had all started on their

tenth wedding anniversary. Kat did not buy Mark a gift, even though

they were celebrating that very evening. The fact that she put up with

him was gift enough as far as she was concerned.

Mark Bell was a sharp-eyed crow who had no major complaints

about Kat, but was quick to find fault. He was handsome enough,

capable of charm, yet ultimately unpleasant, with arrogant eyes that

shone like shiny coins. The glint matched the sheen of his even,

naturally large white teeth. But when he smiled, that smile bore no

warmth. He was the type of man who was demanding, shrewd, and

believed his money could solve all his problems. If you took his

money, you had better be able to deliver.

That evening Mark stood outside Mastro’s restaurant with his hands

in the pockets of his midnight blue suit. He reached into his breast

pocket for an orange Tic-Tac, the toe of his polished black shoe

tapping. He was annoyed. Kat was late. She has no idea how hard it is

to get a good table and now they are about three minutes away from

losing it, his expression showed. Mark didn’t like waiting for anyone,

including his wife.

At last, Kat pulled up to the curb and she was there – impeccably

turned out except for one thing. Mark felt a flash of irritation as he

looked at her shoes – classic pumps, with heels a mile high.

“I was the same height the night you proposed,” Kat murmured

as she gave him a peck on the cheek.

Kat was almost two inches taller than her husband. Barefoot, she

was five feet ten inches. Mark loved her long legs, her posture, the

way she walked, and particularly the way her ass tilted up in high

heels – but he didn’t like to stand next to her when she was wearing

them. It made him feel, well, short.

“You do want me to look my best, don’t you, sweetheart?” Kat

murmured in a voice which softened even his blackest moods.

“By the way darling, I saw the blinking service light on your car—

where have you been that the car needs servicing?” Mark complained.

“And why is the mileage so high?”

“I don’t know anything about cars,” Kat answered, totally


“Why is the mileage so high?” Mark repeated.

Kat did not answer and walked ahead, shoulders back, chin

parallel to the floor, eyes straight ahead. She gave a sweet smile to the

Maitre d’, turning heads as she cat-walked to the best table in the


Kat was a classic and natural golden blonde with wide almond

shaped eyes, an unusual pale blue-green color, and beautiful high

carved cheekbones. There were only two slight flaws to her face. Her

nose was a tiny bit too wide at the tip and she had faintly puffed

chipmunk cheeks.

But she had long legs, a long torso, and the most perfectly

proportioned natural breasts. Even her neck and fingers were long

and slender and graceful like a dancer. Her skin was a pale porcelain

and her body thin. The restaurant was full of admirers tonight.

“Why didn’t you pick up my call, dear?” Mark kept his eyes glued

on the menu as he spoke in the same patronizing tone he used with

his clients. He was annoyed because he had called twice and Kat

hadn’t picked up.

“I went into Starbucks for a chai tea latte after dropping Quinn at

your mom’s. You know how loud it gets in there,” Kat murmured,

also looking down. Mark drank some of his sparkling water then

placed the menu to the side. He looked around the crowded dining

room and was satisfied as he noticed the other patrons looking at his

wife, who was often mistaken for a model or celebrity. Mark sat a little

taller and smiled.

After a wonderful ten years, the only two complaints he had about

Kat were the high heels in public, and her refusal to change her last

name. Hence, while she remained Kat Connor to most of the world,

she answered to “Mrs. Bell” at their five-year old son Quinn’s school

and at Mark’s many social events.

On pure looks Kat was way out of Mark’s league, but fortunately

for him, he had enough money and sophistication to catch her

attention. Kat had once posed for Playboy, Miss November, a fact that

had turned him on at the time he dated her. Once they were married,

however, it had become something Mark hated because he didn’t like

the idea of other men looking at his naked wife.

However it still pumped up Mark’s ego immeasurably to have Kat

on his arm. Socially, Mark Bell became a larger than life figure

whenever they entered a room. Scoring Kat was a grand slam and he

knew it. It was an added bonus that her natural charm, sincerity and

common touch helped Mark socially whereas his instinctual

abrasiveness created problems. Kat was the type of woman who could

say “no” with a smile, without in fact saying the word, yet leave the

supplicant feeling like they’d been given the moon and the stars.

Mark Bell smiled to himself, as he looked round the opulent

restaurant. He had come a long way since the Stuyvesant Town days

of New York. ‘Stuy Town,’ as it was called, with its 89 sprawling red

brick buildings, all identical in height from 14th street to 20th street

running North, and from First Avenue going East to Ave C with its

eight thousand apartments, parks and thousands of people living

their lives. He wondered if the town could fit inside his Beverly Hills

estate, with its cabanas, statuaries, pools and fountains. Who says you

can’t have it all? Mark was in a self-congratulating mood as he sat

ruminating about his life, and the past ten wonderful years.

Mark admired the magnificent trees, all uniform, lined up like

soldiers. He thought of his stays at The Beverly Hills Hotel – the

images of the green banana leaves in the pink halls. How the years

had passed. Clients changed. Stories to tell and stories to forget. Then,

Kat had appeared and the most wonderful time of all began.

Mark looked down at the menu and gestured at the waiter.

“Any specials?” It always sounded like Mark was shouting, even

when he wasn’t.

“The chef’s special today is veal piccatta, finished with a three

citrus chutney, baby carrots and petite courgette, each stuffed with

their own tiny flower blossoms,” the waiter said with a flourish. He

was old school, wearing a white starched jacket.

“We’ll both have that, with the avocado salad to start and a bottle

of the Avelsbacher Reisling, the 2011.”

Mark snapped the wine list shut, pleased with having nailed the

guttural sound in the second syllable of ‘Avelsbacher.’ He looked at

Kat to see if she noticed, but she was busy looking elsewhere. Kat

knew Mark tended to order wine based on the difficulty of the name.

Kat had wanted to select her own meal for a change, but Mark

was too busy muscling the waiter, so she set the menu aside accepting

his decision. Mark handed back the menu and wine list with a

dismissive wave and turned to Kat and gave her his full attention.

“You look amazing, my darling,” Mark declared, facing her with

his eyes glimmering, assessing his greatest work product to date. Kat

was, in fact, the walking culmination of his finest efforts. Mark Bell

had exceptional taste in fashion and lots of his time and money had

gone into dressing Kat. Kat wore a grey Loro Piana cashmere turtleneck with a matching cardigan. She was strung with white pearls and a darker gray

Cucinelli cashmere pencil skirt, textured Wolford stockings and

classic heels. Her clothes draped like a waterfall, yet she looked as if

she had just got out of bed no matter what time of the day it was. She

had cleverly tied a Hermés scarf to her handbag. Her outfit

complimented her thick and soft blonde hair which fell in loose waves

over her shoulders. Kat smiled. She never tired of being admired,

even if the compliment came from Mark.

An awkward silence followed. Kat looked around, amusing

herself as she often did by checking out the other diners. She

wondered which couples were happy and which were not. Who was

married and who was having an affair?

Finally relaxed, Mark pulled a small, heavy red box with gold

trim from his pocket and slid it across the table.

“Happy anniversary, darling.” When Mark smiled, his big white

teeth always reminded Kat of oversized pieces of Chiclets gum, but

now her eyes danced with excitement at the idea of a gift. Kat reached

for the box and tipped open the lid.

Inside the box was a spectacular ring in the image of a panther.

The eyes were aquamarines, the color of Kat’s eyes, with black onyx

encrusted with a pavé of white diamonds. It looked like a creature

hidden in a snowy backdrop, beautiful, elegant and ready to pounce.

The panther just stared back, jarring her. Kat thought there must

be some mistake but the look on Mark’s face said it all. He was

pleased and so busy congratulating himself that he didn’t notice Kat’s


“It’s very pretty, but have you ever seen me wear animal jewelry?”

Kat sulked, wrinkling her nose. She slid the ring on her finger, not

hiding her disappointment. It was not her style at all and something

she would never have picked.

Later that night, Kat lay back on their bed and pulled up her skirt so

that Mark could see the expensive lingerie she wore and her pale,

well-toned thighs above the grey stockings. As she lay there, she

thought of their son, Quinn, wondering what he had eaten for dinner

at grandma’s.

Kat could still feel the wine pulsing through her veins, and she

concentrated on that while Mark touched her. Sex with Mark was

predictable and not at all exciting, but soon enough he would be

asleep. At this point in her marriage everything about her husband

annoyed her. Especially sex.

In the early morning, Mark reached over for Kat but she stiffened and

pulled away. It was clear that the honeymoon was long over and all

that remained were Mark’s deficiencies.

About the author

Multiple award winning author Brad Chisholm is a graduate of the Ontario College of Art & Design where he studied fine art. Kat & Maus is the second novel by Brad Chisholm and Claire Kim. The first was K-Town Confidential (Legal thriller). Brad's new book, Dash & Laila, is a YA action adventure. view profile

Published on October 21, 2020

Published by Black Rose Writing

50000 words

Contains explicit content ⚠️

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Enjoyed this review?

Get early access to fresh indie books and help decide on the bestselling stories of tomorrow. Create your free account today.


Or sign up with an email address

Create your account

Or sign up with your social account