Author of romance and smut. Also an amateur foodie.
Cooling off my hot girl summer/angry socialist fire season with ice cream at Mootown Creamery
I’m not really having a hot girl summer. Thanks to the Delta variant, climate change, anti-mask anti-vaxxers, and wickedly moronic/moronically wicked politicians, I’m having something more akin to angry socialist fire season.
The art of the hate f**k
I hate you. But goddamn it, I love to fuck you. When you kneel before me and lick my clit like it’s your favorite candy, I forget how your beliefs are so opposite to mine that nearly every conversation we have ends in a not-quite-screaming-but-pretty-damn-close-to-it match.
My husband saw me with the handyman — and loved it!
When I open the door and see the handyman, I know I’m in trouble. Louis is ridiculously attractive. His tight white t-shirt struggles to contain his muscular arms and toned abs, and his jeans show off his long legs and big, um, tools.
I Want to Be a Good Wife
I see the guy looking at me from across the bus. It takes every single bit of my willpower to not mouth, Come hither. Back in the days of my youth, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell him, You? Me? Let’s fuck. But I’m a wife now. I can’t just go around having sex with random men. Even if the random man in question looks like one of those pretty boys on Abercrombie & Fitch bags.
By the Berry Patch
Bella Cooper sips her coffee as she watches her gardeners pull out the weeds from her garden. At the sight of the bulging muscles in Chen’s strong arms, she licks her lips. On a few — okay, many — occasions, she’s imagined those big arms wrapped around her as Chen bangs the ever-loving fuck out of her.
The sweetness and tartness of lemonade remind me of us
We sit in your backyard, sipping lemonade. I glance at your chest, my body filling with hot arousal when I see the outline of your stiff nipples through the thin white fabric of your tank top. A smirk appears on your face when you notice my wandering gaze. With an exaggerated “O” expression, you “accidentally” spill lemonade onto your top, causing the fabric to become see-through.
I Cheated on My Husband with His Sister
My heart feels like it’s going to beat its way out of my chest as I stand at Rose’s door. It’s 2:12 in the morning. She’s going to kill me if I wake her up. But I feel like I’m burning with my need to see her, like I’ll spontaneously combust if I continue to starve my eyes of the sight of her.
I Cheated on My Husband in a Stranger’s Car
I don’t know your name. Maybe you told me, but honestly, I don’t give a shit what your name is. All I know is that I want you, though it’s wrong, though I have a husband waiting for me at home. When I was a self-righteous teenager, I always looked down on people who cheated on their spouses. Yet here I am, a 33-year-old married woman about to sleep with you — a total stranger — in your car.