I'm Back!

I've been out of commission for a while, but I'm back...and with lots of new news to share!

My latest review at Clean Sheets is now live. I enjoyed Hard Hats, a collection of lots of sexy men getting hot and sweaty on construction sites...and I wrote all about it. Check out the review here.

My latest story is up on The Erotic Woman. "Better Than Brazil" is the tale of two people who grow closer and closer...and then they meet. Check it out by clicking here.

My latest column is up at For the Girls. This time I talk about dealing with that delicate balance of old friends and a new relationship:

I had ignored the sly digs she made when she thought I wasn’t listening. I had taken the high road and let slide the snide little comments she sometimes made about Mr. Right’s “ball and chain.” I had even defended her once or twice, when it seemed she was too catty for her own good, and chalked it up to the changes that happen when relationships grow.

But when she assumed how I felt, and immediately blamed me without a second thought, I had had enough.

When the claws come out, honey, I’m one little pussy who hisses right back.

Meow! Click here to visit For the Girls and read about the drama!

More coming soon...

"Indiana Jones, with Camera"

"Indiana Jones, with Camera" is a story I considered not publishing at all. Sometimes a story can be so intensely personal, cut so close to your true emotions, that you have to take a long pause before deciding to send it out there into the world where anybody can read it.

I've written an erotic memoir, and I had little problem putting that out there for the world to read. So why is "Indiana Jones, with Camera" different?

Honestly, I have no idea.

"Indiana Jones, with Camera" is now available to read, free of charge, at The Erotic Woman. I hope you enjoy the story.

(By the way...the photograph above is by Roger Fenton, from 1855. The title is "The Valley of the Shadow of Death." Roger Fenton was one of the first war photographers.)

Something Old, Something New

“Look!” Karen held up a pink thong, a tiny slip of a thing that would barely cover a pencil. “It’s only fifty cents!”

Heather laughed. “It’s smaller than two quarters, that’s for sure.”

Karen threw them back into the bin and came up with a pair of fishnet stockings. Heather raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you wear those?”

“I did once. Under my wedding dress.” Karen beamed from ear to ear.

“Really?”

“I swear.”

Heather tried hard to picture the demure Karen, soccer-mom and car-pooling Karen, as a vixen in high heels and fishnets. She couldn’t.

“What did Ronnie say?”

Karen thought a moment, then looked Heather right in the eye. With a conspiratorial whisper and a slight blush, she admitted, “I left them on. That night. You know? And the heels.”

“And?”

“He came all over them.”

Heather laughed out loud, and Karen blushed harder.

“Why don’t we do things like this anymore?” Karen asked, holding another thong in her hands. This one was silky and black and had a line of lace that looked soft enough to melt.

“I guess – well – I don’t know.” She really didn’t know. She thought about her sex life with her husband Ken. It was still good, and they still enjoyed it, but they didn’t do anything crazy anymore. Even when they went on vacation without the kids – their first in ten years – she hadn’t worn anything sexy for him. They hadn’t had sex anywhere but in the bed at the hotel. Ken never complained, but Heather sometimes saw him looking at lingerie ads in magazines and lingering there a little too long.

“What size are those?” she asked Karen, and her friend’s eyes widened.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Karen teased.

“Are there any garters in there?”

Karen’s eyes widened even more. “You’re serious?”

“Why not?”

With feminine giggles and a high blush on their cheeks, Karen and Heather started digging through the lingerie bins, all thoughts of jeans forgotten. They touched things they hadn’t thought about in years – silky stockings, thongs made of lace and little else, bras that were satin instead of their normal, run-of-the-mill cotton.

Karen picked up a leopard print thong and a matching bra and announced, “These are mine!”

Heather was more for the black lingerie. Anything black – it was suddenly what she had to have. Why hadn’t she done this in so long? She remembered shopping for things when she was dating Ken, spending hours in lingerie stores, when she had more money than she knew what to do with, before kids and responsibilities came along. She used to surprise him with new things. Pretty gowns, gorgeous babydoll outfits, even negligees with daring cutouts in all the right places.

Where had that woman gone?

Heather wasn’t sure, but as she held up those fishnets and smiled, she thought maybe she had found her again.

If you want to read the rest, it's there for the taking at The Erotic Woman. It's free to read, so enjoy!