Although I've strived for perfection over the years, I've come to accept that 'Alex' will never be perfect. I've edited / rewritten it for over 8 years and I can't seem to figure out what I'm missing. So, here you go. I hope each word makes you as nostalgic as it does me. Yes, the story has been overhauled entirely and is now a novella (including a preview...
This book is dedicated to my mother Lillian. Who always told me "Life is not about learning to weather the storms, it's about learning to dance in the rain!" – I love you mother, thank you so much for all you've done to help me become the person I am. Chapter 1 My name is Jessica Fox. This is not my real name, but for reasons of anonymity this is the name...
LEGAL NOTICE This book is a work of fiction. References to Melissa Ethridge, Linda Wallem, Erica Jackson, Portia De Rossi and Ellen DeGeneres are purely a product of the imagination of the author. Such references to or statements and actions made by these characters should not be considered real references, actual conversations, or behaviors held by the re...
This, as its name hints, is actually a sequel to "Gift from Mother Christmas". While it is possible to read on its own, elements will make more sense if read after the first story. I should also warn that this is a long tale and a romance as much as a sex story. And so, for this second part of the story of my life, the summer of 1997, I face a problem: how...
This story, as the title suggests, is a sequel to 'The Sun on My Skin Ch. 1', though, I have tried to ensure that can be read on its own, even if (not surprisingly) I think you'll understand Tina a little more if you read Part 1 first. To be fair to you, dear reader, I should warn that, though I didn't set out to do so, it has become a long story. I should...
Part 1 Prologue For as far as she could remember, long hours on the road had always been soothing to Stéphanie. She used to find peace of mind in the endless miles, as a passenger with her trucker dad, then as a driver. Even as a child, the road was her own form of meditation. She could see her father's concentration and tried to imitate it. Eyes roaming...