CHOCOLATE FLOWERS

By Jori Nunes

General non-fiction, Biography & memoir | Paperback


Chocolate Flowers is a disturbing saga designed to help others understand the devastating effects of child abuse and sexual molestation. Revealing dark secrets of abuse, Chocolate Flowers will make you cry, think, and hopefully have an open heart to help prevent this kind of mistreatment from ever happening to other children. Part of the proceeds of this book go to support projects that increase awareness of child abuse and sexual molestation, including The Lisa Project and Danielle's Gift. The Lisa Project is a unique multi-sensory exhibit experience allowing the visitor to hear, see and experience the reality of the world of child abuse. Danielle s Gift provides charitable assistance to children and young adults in times of crisis.



My name is Jori Nunes, I live in Modesto CA and was born in San Francisco in 1968. After writing the book, Chocolate Flowers I became aware of the fact that I was abused although I never knew I was as a child, it was just the way things were. My parents were both mentally ill so they had their excuse. I don’t remember when it all started with my real father but I often think of the things he put my mother and I through, like the ‘Tickle torture’ and forcing her to act sexually to me when she would give me a bath. My father was an alcoholic and would love to buy everyone in the bar drinks leaving us without money to buy food so he would take me out to panhandle and dumpster dive so we would have things and be able to eat but if we made enough change, we would first stop to visit the local massage parlor where he would go inside with a young girl and leave me out front waiting for him on a curb alone. He would remind me that he would pay me when I got older and learned better pleasing skills. Although this was my ‘normal’ I don’t think I ever had any of the traditional signs that I read in other peoples books but I have always felt lonely and have twitches when I see, hear or talk about my past. As a child, I was never forced to go to school so if I heard my sister getting up and ready I would sometimes go to but my grades were barely passable and it wasn’t until the third grade that it was discovered I couldn’t read and was put in to special education classes. I don’t blame teachers because I didn’t tell them anything was wrong, it was just how things were. I do remember a teacher asking me about my lack of cleanliness and poor hygiene. She asked if I was being hit and yelled at in my home and my answer was always No, not at all. No one ever questioned me any further and I continued going to school when I felt like it or remembered to. Although I don’t remember doing homework or how I passed classes when I failed all my tests but somehow I floated by like an empty shell and one friend. Unlike most abused children, I was never scared at night after my Mother remarried because my step father would be home and I knew when he was home, I was safe. Mother was diagnosed with multiple personality disorder and admitted to having a ‘dark’ personality but would never talk about it. I knew that personality well, the witch when she would actually put on a plastic Halloween mask and torture me in my room. My mother was my molester. That may shock people but to me it was just the way mother was. She had things worse she would remind me and tell me the stories of her abusive mother and all the men that were in her life whom would sexually abuse her while her mother watched and would approve because they would pay her so she (my grandmother) could afford new furniture. My mother hated her, I hated her too so when she died on Halloween we laughed and sang ‘The wicked witch has died’ laughing. My sister was treated completely different. Mother adored her and called her the ‘Gorgeous’ one. Mother constantly took photos of her and ignored my little brother and I. My sister was also abused sexually but that’s her story to tell but I can tell you that mother forced her to wear bikini’s and sexy clothing, my sister knew to keep her mouth shut but learned to laugh at things as a nervous jester and had a sense of humor that not too many people understood. Mother groomed dogs and spent every dime on my sisters modeling career, sexy clothing and plastic surgeries. My sister never wanted a nose job or breast implants but was forced to and mother would refuse to give her pain medication because mother would remind her that she (Mother) was sick and needed it more. I was forced out of our home at the age of 14 because I tried to kill my mother. My mother had neglected me and only found interest in my sexuality allowing me to become sexual with neighborhood men at an early age and asking me for details of she wasn’t included. I never knew it was wrong because I was doing it since I can remember with my real father but when mother would force me to kill kittensand dismember them. Mother would often tell me stories volunteering at hospice and having patients that she kill by inserting a small black pill up their rectum. Things just got to be too much for me and one day I threw Mother on the floor and tried to kill her. When I found out I was pregnant, I was excited to have a son. I wouldn’t have to worry about a boy being sexually abused. My sons father was tragically killed in a car accident ad never met our son so I thought it was a great idea to have a male babysitter who could be a father figure to my son. When my son told me that this man I trusted in my home with him had been making him suck his penis, I was so angry at my son for lying that I took away his action figures and told him that ‘Tim’ would never do that. I trusted him, he helps mommy and goes to our church. A month or so passed and my son was screaming from the bathroom, he couldn’t urinate so I rushed him to the E.R. to be told he had STD. He was 6. It took me twenty years to write the story, Chocolate Flowers. I interviewed pedophiles from Megan’s law and victims of crimes. It was a long journey to discover who I was and why. I am not a professional writer or a professional speaker. People ask me all the time why I wrote the book and the only reason I have is because I had to, I couldn’t escape the dreams to write it. After my mother died, my step-father called me to go over to his house. I made all the arrangements to have my mother’s body picked up and cremated. My step-father also asked me to take the sheets off the bed that she had her heart attack on and in doing so, I found a letter; To my daughter. It was a suicide letter telling me what a disappointment I was to her and how I had ruined her life. My mother is in a better place, she is healthy and happy and free from mental illness. My birth father is still alive although I never speak to him he will occasionally call and leave a message letting me know he’s alive and if I ever want to make any extra cash, he would be willing to pay me instead of those Asian girls for a sexual massage. Today, I am a business owner of a Real Estate company in Modesto CA where I have been extremely blessed with my second marriage and my three children. I have no ill feelings towards the people who don’t believe that my parents were capable of doing the things they did because I too didn’t believe my own son and wonder what our relationship would be like if he never had STD. How would his life be I after being denied for his claim of being sexually abused? I often thank God that we found out and my son was able to seek justice. I wrote Chocolate Flowers for everyone who thinks it never will or never can happen to them or someone they know. Thank you for learning about me and reading the story. Jori Nunes


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My name is Jori Nunes, I live in Modesto CA and was born in San Francisco in 1968. After writing the book, Chocolate Flowers I became aware of the fact that I was abused although I never knew I was as a child, it was just the way things were. My parents were both mentally ill so they had their excuse. I don’t remember when it all started with my real father but I often think of the things he put m...


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