connecting the dots by editing & writing erotica
This week is my week to write over at the Sisters In Smut blog. In case you do not know about us, we are everywhere! When you stop by to read my post, make sure you take a look around!
In my post, I make a confession! Read it here!
Want to read more of the hottest erotica out there?! Click here!
featured image via pinterest.com
I pulled up my dress right in the middle of a sexpert workshop at The Sex Expo, right after visiting the Unbound booth. I am a fan of the brand, I wrote a story for their magazine in which I compared squirting to the infamous Unicorn Frappucino that Starbucks had. How cute and liberating is this sticker?!
More Sinful Sunday here:
Like my guests, my stories and Friday Flash? Buy me a coffee, and I will write a personalized flash story just for you! And of course, make Friday Flash bigger and greater!
Become my patron on Patreon–I have exciting plans, including custom erotica in the vein of Anais Nin. Everyone loves a story!
Want to read more of the hottest erotica out there?! Click here!
I met Rose C. Carole at BDSM Writers Con, which I wrote about and have pictures of. She is one of the organizers of the event–which I cannot wait to return to next year! At the time, she told me about Catering to His Needs. I was salivating–I mean food and kinky sex? This is the stuff (my) dreams are made of! I invited Rose to promote then and there, and here she is!
I want to thank Leonora for generously allowing me to guest on her blog and promote my new book. I met her at the BDSM Writers Con in New York City last August and it was great to get to know her.
Writing about BDSM is a challenge. For those unfamiliar with the lifestyle but are intrigued by it, it is difficult to make them understand how people engaging in what appears to be dangerous and abusive behavior are actually creating a very intimate connection. I think the element that transcends everything is showing passion. Everyone understands passion.
For my new series Kitchen Confessions, it was my goal to create a world of characters most readers could relate to and then show how BDSM could play a role in it. As much as I love a good billionaire story, I wanted to bring the dynamic to a more down-to-earth level—exploring how it would look with people pursuing careers, raising families, juggling all the other demands that life brings everyday—and figuring out how to create passion in the midst of all that chaos.
The first book, Catering to His Needs, is all about how family can be the deterrent to finding new love. The book blurb reads
Ethan is at his wit’s end. Gina, his brother’s ex-wife, has threatened to reveal that Ethan is a member of the Playground, an exclusive BDSM club, unless she gets more alimony from the family trust fund. The scandal that would arise from such a revelation must be avoided at all costs–not only for the sake of Ethan’s reputation, but for the future of his relationship with his treasured sub, Rebecca.
Rebecca is a single mother working hard to expand her catering business. The only peace she finds from her building stress is in the handcuffs of her strong Dom, Ethan. But Rebecca’s life is not her own. Her teenage son is not handling Rebecca’s divorce well, and Rebecca feels the responsibility for her son’s happiness like a weight on her shoulders. Between her business and her son, she has little time for herself–or the growing emotional demands from her Dom.
Ethan is determined to take their relationship to the next level, and Rebecca is equally determined not to upset her son further by revealing that she has a new man in her life. Fortunately, Ethan is a Dom with a passionate interest in seeing that his sub is happy–even if he has to whip some sense into her. He’s making progress until suddenly his own problems take a turn for the worse. His brother Zach has gone missing under suspicious circumstances and now it’s all Ethan can do just to keep himself out of jail. The cat, as they say, is out of the bag.
As their lives spiral out of control, will Ethan and Rebecca be able to find a way back into each other’s arms?
Excerpt:
He heard her car come up the lane and went to meet her. He directed her to a spot where she wouldn’t block him in if they wanted to go out during the weekend and approached. He walked up to the car, opened her door, then took her hand and helped her out. He embraced her and gave her a quick kiss.
She looked delicious in a simple blue sundress that brought out the blue in her eyes, which at the moment looked that deep azure color he recognized when she was full of expectation, confirmed by her half smile. Good. She would play right into his plans.
“Welcome to my home. I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Me too. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.” She regarded him shyly through her long lashes.
“Our D/s dynamic starts right now, Rebecca. Give me your car keys, then get out your uniform. I’ll bring the rest of your things into the house. I want you to go around back into the fenced area. You will find your instructions on the bench. Once you follow them, I will meet you there.”
A momentary look of panic crossed her face and he wasn’t sure she was going to do what he’d asked. But he didn’t push her at this point. He needed her to go willingly, so he just waited until she squared her shoulders and calmed herself.
“Yes, Sir,” she finally said in a clear voice.
“That’s my girl,” he assured her. “Now go.”
She proceeded to the back gate, and he set about collecting her small suitcase, the knife roll and the bags of groceries she had brought. Once inside, he put the perishables into the fridge, glancing out of the window on a regular basis to make sure she was okay. Then he left the house, cloaking himself in his serious Dom mode. He had a point to make, and he wanted to make sure she understood how important it was that she got it.
* * * *
Rebecca stood looking at the paper grasped in her trembling fingers. I can do this, she told herself. Ethan wouldn’t allow her to expose herself to strangers, but she still looked around furtively to make sure no one was looking.
She read the words again.
Strip.
Put on your uniform.
Put the larger cuffs on your ankles.
Put the smaller cuffs on your wrists.
Place your clothes, your cell and purse in the metal box under the bench and secure it shut.
Once you have done all of the above, turn the paper over.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she slowly took off her clothes and folded them carefully on the bench then put on the garter belt, stockings and black stilettos she had brought. After securing the cuffs on her wrists and ankles, she put her clothes and purse into the box and shut it. Another deep breath—and another. Then she turned over the paper.
Take the end of the chain on the fence and secure it around your neck with the attached lock.
Oh, my God, really? They had a whole weekend to explore their Dom/sub relationship, and needless to say, it was starting off with a bang. Well, she had wanted to delve into their dynamic more fully than for just an evening. She sure got what she’d asked for—a challenge every step of the way. Her whole body shook and she had to take some more deep breaths to calm herself down. Then she walked over to the narrow chain tethered to the fence, secured the loose end around her neck with the small padlock and sat quickly down on the bench to keep from falling over her trembling legs. And she waited—and waited.
Find out more about Rose via her website: roseccarole.com , and get your copy of Catering to His Needs below!!!
It is crunch time! The deadlines for my Victorian Era and femdom anthologies are inching closer. I have some AMAZING stories already, and am looking for more!
The deadline for the Victorian anthology is December 31, 2015–you can find the details here. The deadline for the Femdom anthology is January 31, 2016–you can find those details here.
I am looking for everything! New and seasoned writers, intricate twists and concepts and most of all? Something that makes me cross and uncross my legs on the train when I read it!
I am not a demanding editrix at all!
the bookkeeper by van dijk via wikipedia
Nichy stared down into her cup of coffee, as if it were a crystal ball.
That was the thing about having sex with Gavin finally, it felt like she had a bell down there because she always wanted to be on top of him.
And she practically was. They had sex almost all day, finding ways every day to have sex in the office.
Or just outside of the office.
They liked the stairs a lot. She had pulled him into the ladies’ room and having the key for the outside bathroom, she let him fuck her in the stall like she saw Renee and Tyler do once in the bathroom at the bar that the four of them frequented. There were wide cracks in the bathroom door in this bathroom as well. Nichy saw a sliver of her almost orgasm face, as Gavin thrust in and out of her in the full-length bathroom mirror in front of the stall.
“Open the door,” he said to her. “You like looking. Open the door, so you can see your face and what I am doing to you.”
Nichy was so startled that he knew what she was doing, that she hesitated. He slapped her backside—hard—and she pushed the door open, freeing the latch. She had to brace herself against the mirror as he pounded into her. Her breasts flopped back and forth since he had unbuttoned her blouse, and shoved her bra down.
She did not see her orgasm face, because she closed her eyers so tight when she came. She really did see stars.
Gavin slapped her backside again, and the remnants of her orgasm trilled through her. Nichy saw her breath like smoke on the mirror, as she pressed her hands to it and did not pull down her skirt. After a moment she pulled herself together, and Gavin wrecked her all over again with a kiss that was so rough, yet desired.
Nichy could still feel his kiss on her mouth as she stared down into her cup of coffee. It was the first lunch that she was not with Gavin since they had been together. That she had not fucked Gavin. But he had to work on a project, and she went to lunch with Renee.
Renee came back from the bathroom, and Nichy felt her looking at her before she even looked up from her coffee. She folded her arms across her chest and looked at Renee, waiting for a smart remark from her about how she looked.
Renee was silent, and Nichy looked down at her coffee again.
As if it would tell her when she was going to be able to be with Gavin again.Would they have sex on the staircase? The bathroom? His boss’s office later that day since his boss was out? She figured they could go in there with the lights off and fuck on the floor, with just the moon as light over their bodies and New York City looking at them without judgment.
She wanted him.
More Masturbation Monday here:
crystal ball by john william waterhouse via wikipedia
The thundering that separated her and Gavin, came down the stairs past Nichy and she could not even move. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gavin come back up the stairs.
“You okay?” he asked, cupping her chin with his hand.
Nichy stared at him, gulped and nodded. They kissed, picking right up from where they left off. Nichy unbuckled his belt again, and pulled him right out of his pants. The feeling of his shaft in her hand as she stroked it–squeezed it–made her hot in the stairwell. Her temples were damp as her tongue explored Gavin’s with desperation–she was moist everywhere.
She pulled and tugged on his shaft, until he put his hand over hers.
“So you like it rough?” he asked, his mouth moist against her ear.
Nichy’s lips were parted, but she did not answer with words as she tugged at him.
He pushed her up against the wall, and her shoulder blades hit against the exposed concrete bricks because they were working in the stairwell of their building. Gavin pulled her hair, and chewed on her bottom lip.
His hand still in her hair, Gavin held her hair like a leash as they went all the way down several flights of stairs where there was no exit. Nichy’s lips felt swollen, as he pushed her up against more exposed concrete. His mouth was hot on hers, but the concrete was cool against her head as she rolled against it.
Gavin’s body was like being too close to a flame, she had never felt anything as intense as this between them. Even when they fooled around before it was not this intense. Nichy squirmed against him, demanding more from him. She kissed his chest, and he pulled up her dress, and she felt the small vibration of a run in her ultra sheer stockings against her ass. Gavin hooked his finger in the run, and tore the rest of her pantyhose. Only then did she pause in jerking him off.
“I want you inside me…finally…” Nichy said.
“Just a moment,” he said, pressing her to the concrete wall. He pulled out his wallet, and behind the bills and cards were condoms. “Do you want to put it on me?”
“If I out it on you, you will come,” Nichy giggled.
Gavin kissed her giggling mouth, as he opened the condom wrapper. Nichy pressed herself against the wall, and pulled her pantyhose down. She had just shimmied them down to her knees, when he grabbed her hips and pushed into her.
The feeling of being full was so overwhelming, that Nichy was torn between the feeling of actually having sex with Gavin and the actually having sex with him. Her thoughts were drunken, but the harshness of the exposed concrete behind her–against her head, against her shoulder blades, upper arms and ass was sobering. Her mind was in so many places until he hit just the right spot. She bit down on his lip, and he slapped her hip. To be with him, she took the unforgivingness of the wall as her cushion and embraced it. She clutched Gavin so tight, and they kissed so fiercely that she was barely breathing. But she was more alive than she had ever been for a long time. Having craved this, having craved this thing between them right that minute.
She never wanted it to end.
Nichy came as if she had been shot. Frozen against the wall, her body moved with Gavin’s until he was still. She kissed him all over, and looked down as he held the base of the condom and slipped out of her. They looked at each other with shit-eating grins, because they had finally done it. She pressed her head to the concrete, and smiled at him.
Melting.
More Masturbation Monday here:
More Kink of the Week here:
concrete via wikipedia
As promised picking up from last week, I bring you into the “sexy” galaxy of my NaNoWriMo novel! This novel was based on this story I wrote about dirty panties–but it had a mind of its own and got into a lot of other things–I still have not finished writing it! But here is another glimpse of it…
“So again what is a classy girl like you doing in a joint like this?”
She did not know if he was being facetious when he said that to her, but she looked at him through a cloud of smoke.
“Why does it matter to you about a girl like me?”
“Because maybe I was waiting for you sugar…”
She was not sure where he got that line from, but it worked on her like hell.
She went with him to the side entrance of the bar, and he opened the door for her and let her into his office. Saoirse looked around at him, and he was so close to her it felt like she would combust.
This scene is a combination of Saoirse’s sexy fantasy and reality…for more sexy fantasies, go here…
knickers via wikipedia
This is a very special guest post for me, I did a teaser for my newsletter! I remember very well meeting Marie Rebelle, at Eroticon. All I can say is she is gorgeous inside and out. She is the epitome of everything a woman should be—everything a human should be. All of the good things. She is warm, loving and nurturing to this community. Marie has such grace and charm and … let me let her tell you more!
I am delighted to be a guest on Leonora’s blog today. She’s one of the loveliest people in this community and is always very supportive of my work and encouraging me, which I highly appreciate.
Who am I?
I am Marie Rebelle, owner of Rebel’s Notes, published erotic author, wife, submissive, mother, grandmother… and a myriad of other roles.
What do I do?
I started Rebel’s Notes six years ago in January 2010 and back when I started it, have never thought it will become as successful as it has. I still thoroughly enjoy doing it, as well as all the other things I am doing around it, such as Wicked Wednesday and other sexy memes I run. It’s hard work, but the amount of satisfaction I get from it and the amount of appreciation from fellow members in the community, energizes me to keep on going. It doesn’t feel like work, even though I approach it as a second job. Besides everything I do in the English sex blogging community, I also run my own writers group in the Netherlands, which have grown out to a tiny company I am expanding step-by-step. I do, however, keep this writing group separated from my Marie Rebelle persona.
How do I do it?
To be able to maintain my blog while also working full time and having a family, I have a strict planning for everything I do. I keep track of all my blogs in one Excel file, where I work with abbreviations and colors for the blogs and I plan posts ahead. There are colors for posts that still have to go live, posts that have gone live but still have to be promoted on different social platforms, and colors for posts that are live and have been promoted. Without this strict planning I would not be able to keep track of all that I do and it would have been a total failure long ago. Besides the Excel planning, I keep track of things in my agenda, for specific things that I have to do on specific days, such as reading Wicked Wednesday posts on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday evenings, posting the prompt for Sexy Searching on the last day of the month or on which evenings I have to work through the email I still need to reply to.
When do I do it?
During the day I work for a boss, like so many others. I work full time, which means you can find me in the office five days a week. The moment I get home, I switch on my laptop and I start my second job, writing and updating my blogs. My daytime job costs me energy that is replaced by ‘working’ for the sex-blogging community. In January the working hours for my daytime job is changing, which will give me a whole day extra to write and to build my own writing company.
Some people say that they don’t understand how I do it, everything that I do. Yes, I am just like anyone else, I get tired too and I also get tired when I have been working on my blogs. However, it also energizes me. It’s a different kind of tiredness from when I leave work in the afternoon after a busy day. I’m not a superwoman. I just work hard on something I love to do and where I get to help other people too.
Why do I do it?
I think in the last sentence of the previous paragraph I have already touched on this: I love to do this and I love helping other people. What is ‘this’ then? I love to write, whether fiction or fact, and I love to share my knowledge on things I have experienced or learned. I have always loved creating things, for as long as I can remember. All through my life creating was part of it: drawing, making clothes, creating websites, painting and of course, writing. In the beginning phase of Rebel’s Notes I completed quite a few paintings, but eventually I came to the point where I had to choose. I chose for writing, as by then I had also started my writing group and noticed that there was a need for this. More and more people attended the workshop meetings I had set up and I loved seeing their writing improve and learning through their experiences.
I love that I can express myself in fact and fiction, the I can express my verbal and visual exhibitionism, but that in all of it, I can help other people. The best compliment I ever got is when someone had read an article on Rebel’s Notes and they thanked me because it helped them in some or other way.
Where do I do it?
As said above, I get home, switch my laptop on and install myself on the couch. My papers and agenda are always on the seat next to me, my drink on a table on the other side. Some years ago my best friend gave me a wooden laptop standard which I call my ‘office’. On weekends I tend to sit at the breakfast table for most of the day and then move to the couch and my ‘office’ sometime late afternoon or early afternoon. This is the physical place where I do it, but of course there are many online places where you can find me:
* My primary blog, Rebel’s Notes
* Weekly meme with (not-compulsory) prompt: Wicked Wednesday
* Monthly meme where you can recreate your favorite search terms: Sexy Searching
* Experiences with menopause: The Menopause Diaries
* Tell me all about oral sex: The Oral Sex Project
* My author site: Marie A. Rebelle
* My 365 projects: Marie Rebelle’s Projects
* Follow me on Twitter
* Like my Facebook page
Thank you all for reading! I would love to hear from you!
And last, but not least, thank you to Leonora for having me on her blog!
~ Marie A. Rebelle aka Rebel
I thank Marie for being a very special lady!!!
iconic tattoo photo courtesy of Marie Rebelle
Nichy still could not get Maggie out of her mind from the night before. Gavin had casually mentioned Maggie without mentioning she was the former ballerina, Maggie Jane Heart. Nichy had to look up at her when she met her, Maggie reminded her of her favorite principal dancer at the New York City Ballet. Except Maggie was taller than that dancer, so was about an inch shorter than Gavin. Maggie looked embarrassed that Nichy was there, but Nichy was the one who felt intimidated when the other woman walked into the apartment briefly.
Gavin had closed the door behind her when she left, and wrapped his arms about Nichy. But anything that Nichy could have felt in terms of arousal was shot. The murder in the building had not made her so anxious, but Maggie did.
Nichy took a cab home, and texted Gavin that she was okay. In the morning when she got to work, he was already there.
“Do you want to have coffee?” he questioned her, before she had even put her bag down.
“Okay,” she said, and put her things away quickly.
They went down the stairs together.
“You could have told me that your ex was famous.” Nichy began beside him.
“Maggie has not danced for a few years, she does not talk about that side of her life even.”
“Well I saw her dance before live, and she was amazing. I could barely speak to her when I saw her…”
“Why would you be tongue-tied around Maggie, when you and I…” Gavin pressed her against the wall in the stairwell, stopping. “You gave me a hell of a case of blue balls last night. I wanted you Nichy, and you left me…”
Nichy looked up at him breathlessly, and he kissed her before she could say a word. He pressed himself against her, kissed her neck and held her hand. Nichy squeezed his hand in hers and gasped as he sucked on her neck, and slipped her hand inside his pants. She caressed his stomach, as he unbuckled his belt. Nichy grabbed the buckle that hit the back of her hand, before he took her hand in his again and brought her to grip him. She had never heard such an arousing sound as the moan that came from deep within his chest which she could feel because they were that close.
If they decided to have sex right there in the stairwell, she would not have cared because she was sure some part of her lower anatomy was as blue as his balls.
The rumble of someone running above was like thunder. Gavin slipped himself back into his pants, and buckled his belt again. Nichy stayed against the wall even as he started down the stairs—blue between her legs, and blue in her head…
More Masturbation Monday here:
international klein blue via wikipedia
I met Ria Restrepo through the best kind of serendipity. We are both authors in Spy Games edited by Jillian Boyd, and in the upcoming Prompted anthology that I am editing with Oleander Plume. Ria is passionate and amazing, and I have a bit of a crush on her so I had to have her on my blog to enthrall you–so without further ado!!!
I want to sincerely thank the amazing F. Leonora Solomon for inviting
me to be on her blog. I’m fairly new to blogging and even newer to
guest blogging, so I’ve been pretty neurotic about it. Leonora was
very encouraging and said she trusted me to write about anything that
excites me. Her only request was that I bring passion.
I had to chew on that for a while, because many things excite me as a
reader and writer: strong female characters, alpha males with a
sensitive side, page-turning plots, an engaging voice, vivid writing,
a satisfying ending, sizzling sensuality, kinky sex, and so on.
However, when it comes to writing, I feel most passionate about
enrapturing readers. What do I mean by that? I mean creating stories
that grab the reader’s attention from the first line and gets them so
absorbed in the characters and their story they can’t stop reading
until the very end.
I want readers to feel how I do when I read a great story. I want them
bouncing up and down like giddy schoolgirls at some flirtatious
banter. I want them biting their fingernails as they turn the page,
because they’re worried about what will happen next. I want them
squirming in their seats and fanning themselves while reading a torrid
sex scene. If I’ve really done my job well, they might even need to
take the edge off, so to speak.
One of my favorite ways to enrapture readers is with riveting
chemistry between characters. Showing chemistry between a hero and
heroine can be a tricky thing. Chemistry is an ineffable element that
should be so tangible to the reader they can imagine themselves in
place of the characters they’re reading about. I think this is most
effectively accomplished with a combination of feisty and/or
flirtatious dialogue, alluring body language, and tantalizing
descriptions of actions and reactions.
I know, you want a demonstration, right? Okay, I always aim to please.
Let’s take a strong, sassy heroine — we’ll call her Lana . . .
She’s been up most of the night preparing a kick-ass proposal she
hopes will land her a prestigious promotion. As VP of Marketing,
she’ll finally prove to her condescending, misogynistic father that
she can make it in the business world. But first, she needs coffee!
Before the meeting that could change her life, Lana goes to the break
room for a necessary shot of caffeine. Unfortunately, someone took her
favorite coffee mug. Damn! There’s only one mug left. It’s black with
bold white lettering that reads, “Mine.” Lana rolls her eyes. She
knows exactly who the mug belongs to.
Normally, she wouldn’t dream of touching it or anyone else’s mug, but
she’s desperate. She quickly grabs the cup, fills it with fresh dark
roast, and adds sweetener and cream. Hopefully she can down a quick
cup, wash the mug, and put it back before it’s missed. As she brings
the steaming hot mug to her lips, she turns around and freezes when
she spots the mug’s owner in the doorway.
Devon Reed is the kind of man who seems to have the world by the
balls. His short black hair is perfectly in place and his crisp
charcoal suit is so well-tailored it accentuates his tall, lean,
powerful frame. He exudes confidence so effortlessly it annoys Lana.
Lana’s heart flutters wildly in her chest and a familiar ache blossoms
between her legs. It irritates her that her body betrays her every
time Devon’s around. She’s sure he knows the effect he has on her —
and so many others — and uses it to his advantage. Men like him
always get what they want. That’s reason enough to dislike him as far
as Lana’s concerned.
Catching her red-handed, Devon arches a dark brow — the one with the
small scar that bisects it. Lana has caught herself staring it in
meetings, wondering how he got it. Somehow it only adds to his
masculine appeal, giving him a slightly dangerous edge.
But at that moment, his dark blue eyes entrance her as he stalks
toward her like a panther ready to pounce. Lana wills herself to snap
out of it, but she just stands there like a cornered rabbit. When he
reaches her, he places one hand on the counter by her hip — not
touching, but oh so close.
The corner of his mouth curves up slowly. “It’s not enough to go after
my promotion? You have to take my coffee mug too?”
Lana clears her throat. “Someone took mine.”
His other brow rises to meet the first. “So two wrongs make a right?”
Lana sighs, then takes a gulp of coffee. The warm creaminess slides
down her parched tongue, making her feel a little more in control —
but not much. “I’m sorry, but I really need it. I’ll wash it and give
it back to you in a moment.”
“Well, I always enjoy giving a woman what she needs,” his says, his
voice lowering as he leans in closer. “But what about what I need?”
“Uh . . . you?” Lana wants to slap herself for that brilliant
comeback, but he’s so close his spicy manly scent is intoxicating.
“I have the same important meeting you do.” His gaze leisurely
explores her face, finally landing on her mouth. “It doesn’t seem fair
that you get the benefit of coffee and I don’t.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine without it,” she says and takes another long drink.
Devon’s smile widens. “Or we could share.”
“Share?”
“Oh, yes.”
Lana gasps when his free hand gently grabs the underside of the mug,
taking it from her.
Realizing his intent, she quickly says, “That’s probably not the way
you like it.”
His eyes never leaving hers, he turns the cup around and places his
lips where hers had been. After a deep swallow, he murmurs with
pleasure.
“Perhaps a little sweet, but deliciously strong and creamy,” he says,
his warm, coffee-scented breath teasing her. “I like it.”
***
Would you like to know what happens next? I know I would! Could you
feel the chemistry? I hope so, or it’s back to the workshop for me. If
you’re stomping your feet and crying, “You can’t leave it there!” —
then my work here is done. Who knows, I might finish Lana and Devon’s
story. I really like them already.
Ooooh Ria got me all hot with Devon’s charcoal suit, and you know how I feel about those! Want to read more from Ria? Try her guest post with the Brit Babes!
Bio
Ria Restrepo has written in many genres, from literary fiction to
political humor, under various names. Now she’s focused on writing
what she loves to read — romance, erotica, and all the shades in
between. She’s spent most of her life in South Florida and continues
to live in the Sunshine State, because she still has nightmares about
standing in feet of snow, waiting for the school bus in rural
Pennsylvania. Her work has recently appeared in Spy Games: Thrilling
Spy Erotica and in the upcoming Prompted and Best Women’s Erotica of
Links
photo courtesy of Ria Restrepo
