The Aromatic Bush Chronicles is an intimate and unflinching memoir-inspired work that reflects on the women who have passed through the author’s life — wives, girlfriends, and brief encounters alike. Honest, wry, and reflective, it explores the emotional texture of relationships, desire, memory, and the stories people leave behind.
Sample from the book – DOREEN
Gerry was eighteen when he met Doreen — old enough to know what he was doing, but still young enough to be surprised by how quickly desire could hijack common sense. Lissell had lit the fuse, but Doreen… Doreen showed him what happened when the fire actually reached something combustible.
She lived a bus rides away, close enough to visit without planning and far enough that the journey gave him time to rehearse what he intended to say — none of which survived the first three seconds of seeing her.
Doreen wasn’t flamboyant, but she had a presence.
A softness at first glance, confidence underneath, and a look that suggested she’d already worked out what Gerry was thinking before he had. Her hair framed her face perfectly, and she had a smile that made him feel warm and slightly unsteady, as though someone had nudged his internal gyroscope.
Their early conversations were easy — natural banter sprinkled with sideways glances and the kind of playfulness that always hints at something simmering beneath the surface. It wasn’t long before the simmering reached boiling point.
One evening, they found themselves alone, music playing quietly, the kind of dim light that makes ordinary rooms feel inviting, and both of them sitting just a little closer than they had to. Doreen shifted nearer, Gerry pretended not to notice, and the air thickened with the unspoken understanding that neither of them planned on discussing the weather any longer.
The first kiss was confident — no teenage hesitation, no uncertainty.
Doreen knew exactly what she was doing, and Gerry did his best to keep up.
Clothes didn’t vanish; they simply became less organised. Buttons lost battles. A zip surrendered prematurely. At some point, a shirt found itself halfway across the room with no clear recollection of how it got there. Gerry suspected it had launched itself out of self-preservation.
What followed wasn’t clumsy or rushed, but neither was it innocent.
They explored each other with the eagerness of two young adults finally given permission by life itself to stop holding back. It was passion without panic, heat without chaos — though there was a moment involving a stubborn clasp that threatened to derail the mood until Doreen handled it with the cool efficiency of someone defusing a bomb.
There was humour in their closeness too — whispered jokes, shared smiles, the occasional stifled laugh when something slipped, tugged, or bent in an unintended direction. But the humour only added to the intensity. Nothing kills tension like nerves; nothing sharpens it like laughter shared at the right moment.
Gerry remembered the warmth of her skin, the way she breathed against him, the subtle shifts that needed no words, and the unmistakable message in every touch: yes.
He didn’t record the details — nobody does at eighteen — but he remembered the feeling.
The confidence.
The thrill.
The discovery that intimacy didn’t need dim lights or a soundtrack; it just needed two people who wanted each other at the same time.
By the end of the evening, Gerry was certain of three things:
1. Doreen knew far more about passion than she let on.
2. His shirt would never regain its original shape.
3. Life had just stepped over a line that would never be uncrossed.
Their relationship continued, sometimes fiery, sometimes playful, occasionally unpredictable, but always charged with that current that began the moment she leaned in and turned a conversation into something far more memorable.
Doreen didn’t become a lifelong love story — but she became something just as important:
a milestone.
A turning point.
A confirmation that desire, once awakened, didn’t go back to sleep.
Years later, Gerry didn’t remember every word they exchanged, but he remembered the tone, the heat, and the thrill of discovering what passion felt like when both participants knew exactly what they wanted.
Doreen was the beginning of adult intimacy —
not polished, not perfect, but unmistakably real.
.”
About the Author
Gerald Bratley is an independent author whose writing draws on personal experience, reflection, and a fascination with the complexities of human relationships. Through his work, he brings together memory, honesty, and a distinctive individual voice.
The Aromatic Bush Chronicles: 90-Day Marketing Checklist
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