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About the author:
After years of ghostwriting and signing over copyright to my clients, I decided to strike out on my own and stake a claim on my talent.
I write about the things people don't usually talk about and relish in pushing boundaries. I believe that going where no one else dares is the key to unlocking what's really at the core of our existence.
Combining topics that could be considered as too delicate for an everyday conversation with the popular tropes of the Erotic Romance genre, I breathe new life into the way stories are told and come with a fresh perspective, challenge my readers to live vicariously, and offer an invitation to color outside the lines.
When I'm not writing, I'm a mother, a lover, and a tea aficionado. I love to read, I cook, I create a home and take pride in the small things.
What inspired you to write your book?
I've been writing for a long time and have a lot of experience putting stories together that are enticing, but when I started reaching out on my own as an author and not just a ghostwriter, I felt the urge to write about something that was seen as taboo in the household I grew up in. It took me a long time to unlock a side of myself I've always been told to push away, and I wanted to write stories that others could relate to because our sexuality is something that's normal and natural, and shoudln't be ignored.
Here is a short sample from the book:
I fished the last coins out of my purse and paid the parking meter. That was it. I was officially broke. All I had left now was a bit of money on a credit card, which didn’t count because credit never belonged to anyone.
“You know, Julia, if you handle your money better you’re not going to end up with no cash at the end of the month,” Brian pointed out.
“Yeah, thanks captain obvious. What am I supposed to do?”
He chuckled and laced his fingers through mine. I let him hold my hand for all of two seconds before I wormed my way out of his grip. We were close and all, and we fucked now and then, but we weren’t at holding hands. Not by a long shot.
“You’re supposed to not drink out all the cash you make when you waitress.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m a student. You’re telling me I should just say no every Thursday at Fiasco?”
He thought about it for a moment before he shook his head. “No, you’re right. No one’s going to give up half-price shooters. You’ll just have to get a better job.”
“Doing what? The reason I’m studying is so that I can get a better job. No one takes Accounting for shits and giggles, and no one is going to make a mil before a degree.”
“Why don’t you ask your dad? Aren’t your parents loaded?”
I shook my head, irritated. I should never have told Brian about my parents in the first place. They didn’t count in my life and no matter how bad things got, there was no way in hell I was turning to them for help.
“You know that’s not happening.”
“I get you’re pissed at them. I don’t know why, but I get it. But you can use them for money at least, can’t you? It’s like… the ultimate revenge.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “It doesn’t work that way. And I don’t want to talk about them anymore.”
He shrugged and we walked into the Gap. He nodded a greeting at one of the girls standing in line.
“That?” I asked, nodding towards her. “You did that?”
“Come on, she’s hot.”
I looked at her again. Short red bob, freckles, soft around the middle… no.
“I’m starting to wonder what you see in me if that’s what you choose for your main course.”
He shook his head. Brian and I had an easy kind of relationship. Nothing steady, nothing exclusive, he could do whatever he liked, with whoever he liked, I could do the same. The fact that he got way more ass than I was beside the point. I preferred to keep things classy – I wasn’t just going to jump whoever came along just because they were willing. I had standards. Besides, I didn’t just keep myself in peak condition to give it away to the first asshole that bought me a drink.
Brian aside. He’d been the first asshole to buy me a drink when I’d just gotten here.
But we were friends now. All’s well that ends well, or some shit.
My lay had to be an asshole with a six-pack, at least. Or even better, a six-figure income. I ran five miles three times a week and did a hell of a work-out the days in between to get an ass like mine and keep it. The guy had to do something along those lines to be worth my while.
“What are we here for, again?” he asked.
“Jeans. Or slacks. Or socks. Whatever I can still afford if this card isn’t maxed out.”
When I got home I was empty-handed and grumpy. Brian had left which meant no sex tonight.
“What’s wrong with you?” Myra asked when I walked in. We’d been roommates for two years and she carried most of the rent when I was out of cash, which was most of the time.
I’d been lucky to find a place to live at all. I’d seen her ad when I’d been kicked out of my dorm room. We’d had an interview where I’d arrived with everything I owned already in my car, and I’d moved in right away.
She was a better person than I was. I didn’t know if I would have taken me in.
“You know, the usual.”
“Aww, Brian not in the mood to do anything tonight?” she asked. By ‘anything’ she meant me. I took off my shoe and threw it at her. My sock had a hole and that made me depressed.
I sat down on the couch next to her. She always looked like a supermodel. She had the build for it, tall and skinny and she didn’t need to watch her diet the way I did. When I’d asked her once how she stayed so perfect, she’d answered ‘lots of sex’. Right. Then why didn’t I look like that?
She wore a black silk robe and it looked like it was all she was wearing. Her blond hair was tied up in a knot on her head and I noticed she was already wearing make-up.
“Why are you all dressed up?” I asked.
“I have a date tonight,” she said and pouted her lips at me.
She shrugged. “I don’t set the dates, they do.”
Myra was an escort. She told me so the first time we’d met but it was a life she kept away from the apartment. All I knew about it was that she always looked damn good and she had expensive shit that I wanted. Her clothes were all designer labels and one pair of heels cost more than all my clothes together.
“What are you going to wear?” I asked.
“Want to help me pick?” she asked and got up, walking to her room. I followed her, trying to mimic the way she swayed her hips when she walked, feeling like I looked dumb instead. I sat down on her bed and she picked out four dresses. She held them up in front of her.
“That one,” I said, pointing at a golden dress that looked like it wouldn’t fit it was that small. She held it at arm’s length and looked at it with a tipped head.
“You think so?”
“It makes your hair awesome,” I said. She nodded, letting the robe fall to her ankles. I was wrong, she wasn’t wearing absolutely nothing underneath, but it was damn close.