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Life Coach
Narcissistic Recovery Mentor
Author
Serving Las Cruces since 2010
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Dear Dezi: Horrible Husband Award #231
This “Worst Husband” award goes to Derrick Goldman of New Jersey. To the outside world, he appeared calm, wounded, misunderstood — even devoted. Behind closed doors, he waged quiet wars against the woman who loved him most. He studied manipulation like strategy. He admired The Art of War, and over time it became clear that conflict wasn’t just something he read about — it was something he practiced. Especially against women. He carried deep resentment, fragile pride, and an e
Dezi Golden, LMT-CLC
May 273 min read


Rough Draft: Snow Road Chapter 3
Snow Road Chapter 3 Shipmen PD Agent Jax Voss pulled up in front of the Shipmen Police Department and exhaled, eyeing the worn down little precinct. The kind of place you’d miss if you blinked—until recently. Now it was everywhere—news vans lining the street, bloggers circling, amateur sleuths feeding off a constant drip of speculation and leaks. His gaze slid across Main Street to the chaos out front. Reporters swarmed the entrance like flies. Yeah. Not today. He scanned the
Dezi Golden, LMT-CLC
Apr 295 min read


Rough Draft: Snow Road Chapter 2
Snow Road Chapter 2 Manny Delgado “Come on, people—who can tell me what a malignant narcissist is? I know you read the chapter. It’s been a damn week.” Professor Manuel “Manny” Delgado spreads his hands, scanning the lecture hall as his frustration builds. The room stays still—until a small hand rises from the third row, left side. “Yes, Shante,” he says, relieved. “Save us.” She clears her throat. “A malignant narcissist, sir, is considered the most dangerous type of narciss
Dezi Golden, LMT-CLC
Apr 293 min read


Rough Draft: Snow Road Chapter 1
Snow Road Chapter 1 Sloane Drake The morning grog clung behind Sloane’s eyes. Seven a.m. was too early—even for an eight-year-old who usually got a full nine hours of. sleep. The closet door squeaked shut, her favorite red shirt clutched in her hand as she pulled it down over her unbrushed hair. “The bus is coming, Sloane!” Her mother’s voice boomed from downstairs—an unusual sound at this hour. Her father was usually the one awake; if Sheryl was up, it meant he was already g
Dezi Golden, LMT-CLC
Apr 293 min read
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