My Killer Butterfly

Meeting My Future Wife and Watching Her Write a Novel

The term “Killer Butterfly” typically refers to the African Giant Swallowtail.

The creature flutters around the Central and West African rainforests, typically in parts of Cameroon, Uganda and The Congo.

It’s impossible to miss with bright orange wings, black markings and a giant wingspan that can exceed ten inches, multiples larger than the average butterfly wingspan of 2-4 inches. Bigger than some birds, the biggest butterfly in Africa has been difficult to study due to it’s rarity and the fact that is found deep in the rainforest.

The butterfly absorbs defensive chemicals from plants, making it distasteful to potential predators. The bright coloration serves as a warning signal:

“You can attack me, but just know it’s not going to be pleasant.”

In the 19th and 20th centuries, the Swallowtail was the object of obsession for many butterfly collectors. It’s rarity, size and beauty made it the equivalent of obtaining a rare piece of art in the butterfly world. Like a living, flapping Picasso or Monet’.

My killer butterfly wasn’t found in a rain forest, and she’s a little larger. But she’s even rarer.

I found her wandering the streets of Manhattan. It was a hot summer afternoon and I was out for a long walk through Flatiron. At some point I decided a cold beer and the Mariners game sounded like a pretty good idea.

I pulled out my phone and Googled "sports bars." The algorithm decided I’d like a place called “Olde City Sports Bar.”

For all the brain rot and polarization these algorithms have unleashed on society, I’ll always have a soft spot for the one that sent me to this particular sports bar on this particular day.

I walked in and there she was. Behind the bar. Big brown eyes. Beautiful smile. I felt an immediate “I have to get to know this person” the second I saw her.

Our first interaction was me asking her to turn on the Mariner game (chivalry is not dead, folks). After watching her struggle for a moment I gave the old “hey, I know you’re busy… want to just let me do it?” She smiled and handed me the remote.

For the next hour (that felt like ten hours) the other bar tender (coincidentally also named Matt) cornered me. Great guy, very nice… but there was someone else I’d rather be talking to. And I knew she wanted to talk to me too.

Other Matt finally left me for a moment, thank goodness. And there she was. She walked over and we chatted for hours. Lucky for me the bar was empty and created this opportunity for some one on one time.

I grabbed her number before I left. I later found out that one of the other women working the bar that day thought we were already dating based on the way we interacted. Like we had known each other forever, not like two strangers who happened to cross paths in a city of millions on a given summer day.

What I didn’t know at the time was that I had just met my future wife.

And what I also didn’t know was that she had already started writing a novel.

A novel called Killer Butterfly.

That’s right. I’ve known the book as long as I’ve known the girl.

Four years later, her masterpiece is ready to share with the world. The book has themes of boxing and writing. Dark times. Redemption. A crossroads. A decision to write or to fight.

The violence of the fists or the power of the pen.

The whirlwind everything, everywhere, all at once that is New York City.

The main character Tabitha aka “Tabs” is fictional… technically. But she’s a living, breathing literary iteration of my Killer Butterfly named Ediva. The one I’ll be marrying next year.

If you know Ediva, you’ll recognize her throughout. The grit. The determination. The resilience.

It’s fiction, but the traits are not. They’re hers.

Ediva poured her heart and soul into this book. Blood, sweat and tears… literally.

My favorite author fought in an actual competitive boxing match during the writing of this book. The rounds and rounds of edits. The formatting and cover design. The roll out. And of course, the writing itself. All from her creative mind and personal experiences.

She worked her ass off to make this thing come to life. But the world frankly doesn’t care that you tried hard. They care if it’s good. And my god is this book incredible. I was lucky enough to get to do an advance reading, and I went through the book in three days.

Every chapter reads like a scene in a dramatic film. You could almost see an NYC noir style movie directed by Scorsese playing out through the pages. The bustling streets of The Heights. The dingy bar/boxing gym with the creepy owner and the weirdo regulars. The bike rides down the west side highway.

We held a book launch event on Tuesday and Ediva read a passage in front of the crowd. People were hooked and the copies we brought with us sold out in seconds.

Four years ago, I walked into a random sports bar looking for a Mariner game.

Instead, I found my future wife.

And this week, the book she’s been writing since the day we met finally made its way into the world.

I’m unbelievably proud of her.

If you’d like to check out Killer Butterfly, you can order a copy here:

Click here to order.