Today we re-welcome Amber Lynn Natusch to our blog as she celebrates her new book UNDERTOW. This was an AMAZING book – you can check out Christine’s 5 STAR Review HERE 

“I’m sure that you have a lengthy list of requirements for the men you date.” He chuckled lightly before his tone regained its seriousness. “You should. Standards are important.”
“I don’t have a list at all,” I countered. “I don’t really date. I don’t have time, but, on those rare occasions when I do, my finding is that men typically want only one thing from me. What’s even more fascinating is that, whether or not they get it, the outcome is the same.”
“And what’s that?” he asked, his playful expression hardening.
“They leave.” My voice was softer than I had expected to hear it, implying a certain sorrow that I didn’t really feel. At least I didn’t think I felt it.
“Those aren’t men, Aesa,” he said, staring back out the window before him. “A man doesn’t seek out a woman because he wants to screw her and leave, nor does he leave because he can’t screw her at all. That’s an asshole. A real man goes after a woman because he knows that life with her far surpasses that without her. He should be stimulated by her very presence, lack of clothing notwithstanding. That is a man. Apparently you don’t have much luck finding any of those.”
My breath caught at his words. He was an oracle, a beacon of wisdom, found in the most bizarre place. How and why he knew what he did was still a mystery, but I couldn’t help but think of the story behind it.
He had inadvertently cut to my core when it came to men. What disturbed me most was whether I had somehow always known that the choices I made would ultimately result in those men leaving. Was it both nature and nurture leading me to recreate that which I’d always known—solitude? What I had once thought was indifference to the level of commitment I found in the opposite sex suddenly seemed like self-sabotaging behavior instead. It made me wonder if I would always be alone. Surely the “men” Decker spoke of wouldn’t want someone as emotionally unavailable as me.
“I guess I don’t.” It was all the response I could muster while in my introspective stupor.
“Maybe you should start a list after all,” he added, turning to face me again with an expression that was far more at ease. “’Not an asshole’ would be a great number one.”

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