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A Diary
A Diary
A Diary
Ebook57 pages40 minutes

A Diary

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Share Charlotte Caldo’s candid revelations in this sexy, full disclosure. Charlotte discovers her old diaries and exposes her past in an emotional journey of bad behaviour and wild antics. Follow her as she revisits numerous hot encounters, told in her own scorching, confessional words. Previously published under a different title, this book was withdrawn and has been updated to conform to new publishing rules.

Please do not purchase A Diary if you’ve already bought Little Lance’s Diary by Anonymous or Babysitter’s Diary by Anonymous.

Warning: Explicit content unsuitable for readers under the age of 18.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 29, 2015
ISBN9781311830579
A Diary

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    Book preview

    A Diary - Charlotte Caldo

    A Diary

    By

    Charlotte Caldo

    A Diary

    By

    Charlotte Caldo

    ©, Little Lance Publications, 2015

    All rights reserved including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of Little Lance Publications. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. This eBook is based on the true experiences of the author. Names, locations and some details have been changed to protect identities. The opinions expressed are the author’s own and are not representative of the opinions of the publisher or distributors.

    Cover image: © Iancucristi|Dreamstime.com

    www.littlelancepublications.com

    Warning

    This eBook contains strong language, sexually explicit content unsuitable for persons under the age of 18 and themes that some readers might find offensive.

    Contents

    Tuesday 1st August 1995

    Saturday 5th August 1995

    Friday 11th August 1995

    Thursday 24th August 1995

    Sunday 8th October 1995

    Friday 27th June 1997

    Sunday 15th March 1998

    Monday 16th October 2000

    Wednesday 5th May 2004

    Friday 22nd October 2004

    Tuesday 28th August 2007

    Monday 1st October 2007

    Monday 24th December 2007

    Monday 31st December 2007

    Friday 29th August 2008

    Saturday 15th November 2008

    Saturday 28th February 2009

    Friday 17th April 2009

    Tuesday 8th September 2009

    Wednesday 24th August 2011

    A Diary

    In preparation for moving house, I discovered a large storage box containing my diaries. An avid diarist, I’d kept a detailed record from my teens, virtually daily, until I met Harry’s father and decided it was time to put my diary away, abandoned and unfinished. Sifting through, I sorted them into chronological order. There were various types, sometimes just a notebook, but most were formal diaries complete with date, day and year. I wanted to find my diary from the year 1995, not that long ago, but pivotal. The turning point for so many events, most recorded in the fat, blue volume, complete with a tiny lock. Unable to find the key, I impatiently forced it open. It teemed with inconsequential information and observations, which seemed enormously important at the time. I scanned the irrelevant detail and turned to the first turning point for that year and read...

    Tuesday 1st August 1995...

    Sandra, 10 a.m., interview First job… I’m so excited… I hope she likes me... My handwriting has evolved since then. Thinking it was so cool at the time; I used to embellish the small letter ‘i’ with a little circle instead of a dot, and loop the tails of other letters. Reading the words I’d written and running my fingertips over the ink, the page indented, intent pressed home with each word. My mind grasped at the past, memories tumbled and settled, as I let my thoughts drift back to that first day.

    I’m not proud of what happened but now it’s done and there’s no going back. The distance between

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