works of fiction

Apologies to anyone who has tried to buy The River's Embrace in recent times. The publisher, Secret Cravings, is out of business and I've been slow to update. Hope to have this book available again soon.

A dream job decorating an English mansion turns to nightmare for Londoner Margery Tull. Her fate depends on saving the heir to the property, Stephen Winstanley, from the ghostly vengeance of his murdered uncle.




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"Crowning Glory": a hair fetish

"Shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen" is how the title song of the musical Hair describes it. Body fuzz may go in and out of fashion, but the follicles on top - the female ones anyway - never lose their sex appeal. 
For a guy condemned to look, not touch, the attraction can get pretty hard to contain sometimes, and that's the case with the protagonist in "Crowning Glory". 
He "longed to touch. No, not touch. Caress. Immerse himself in scent and sensuality. Regress to a state in which he could clutch with a baby's innocence."
Marabelle Blue, Editor in Chief of Kink~E Magazine, was kind enough to run the story in her magazine, and so the rest of the story can be read at:

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A New Collection of Short Stories 

Sometimes what a man has to offer doesn’t seem quite enough but, with a little give and take, there can be ways around it. Three men are the focus of these stories. One wants his wife to have more, another discovers she’s already had more, and the third fears she’s having too much.

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Otherworldly beings put the moves on down-to-earth women in these three stories in the erotica genre. Dreams and fantasies prove to be open doors for a ghost, a demonic familiar and an advertising icon.

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Temporary Reversals

When Miranda made love, she seemed to appreciate instinctively that the dividing line between man and woman was not a clear one. Her long, graceful fingers probed at places that made her lover smile in surrender. He braced himself for that scarlet polish to draw a like-colored fluid as one of her nails scythed into the tenderness behind his scrotum, but all he felt was a penetrating warmth from her gyrating finger. "You understand," he had murmured, with eyelids half closed, during one of their early bouts of mutual exploration. "So few women do.""More do than you think," she had told him, gently pressing down on his abdomen with her other hand. "But there's the fear to overcome.""Fear of what?"
For the rest of my story, go to:

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