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I write in multiple genres. For ease of navigation, please refer to the index below.

For my 43rd birthday, my husband, Steve, gifts me a virtual reality console and a collection of games.
“Interesting,” I murmur, slightly agitated he didn’t get me the latest robot vacuum I hinted at a few weeks ago.
“Wait till you try this on.” He hands me a little disc.
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“You put the game chip in. Then stick this sensor here” — he taps the side of his head — “right or left, doesn’t matter, and voilà . You’ll experience everything your avatar does.”
Skeptical, I lift a brow. “Everything?”
Steve laughs…

“Have you heard?” Jenny screeches over the phone, “Chris Beckett is back in town!”
“What? Really?” Chris Beckett was my classmate. Someone I’d secretly been in love with throughout most of my high school years. The one who got away. 17 years later, I still get tingly hearing his name.
“Yup. Word has it he’s on an unofficial business trip. I bumped into him at Liberty Station the other night and guess what? He asked about you.”
“Me?”
“Uh-huh. He wanted to know how you were doing. You guys should totally meet up.”
“I don’t know.”
“Look, Mia, how long…

It wasn’t easy sending that first email. My hunch was right. Shawn has been getting some at work with the newcomer in Marketing.
Truth be told, I wasn’t half as angry as I expected when I found out about my husband’s affair. And this other woman, a sexually eloquent vixen, left me wanting more.
So I texted Shawn and told him to bring his new plaything home. He wisely agreed to my unusual request.
In all our years of dating and marriage (nine, to be exact), Shawn and I never had a threeway. The idea of a ménage à trois…
To rob Laurie Bishop of some juicy story has been James’ dream for ages. Revenge for her stealing his Beyonce scoop. Lately, he’s gotten into the habit of accessing her private voicemail and deleting the messages in the hopes of one-upping the hardened newshound.
After months of fruitless snooping, the stars have lined up. An anonymous tip about naughty goings-on at 137 Randall Heath, attended regularly by the mayor. At last! Something with a real bite.
James parks down the block and surveys the scene. A leaf and tree corner of town hidden from the big world. Charming, old houses…

“We’re gonna have a lifetime of this.”
Soaking in the warmth of his words, I melt into Ethan’s arms until I finally catch my breath.
“So what’s next?” I ask playfully, my gaze focused on the floor-to-ceiling window, or more specifically, on the faint reflection of our naked bodies. In the distance, the stunning view of the mountains is a reminder we’re in the midst of our pre-wedding Montana retreat.
His smile is lazy as he caresses my lower back. “Since we have all the time in the world, what would you like to do?”
“How about you fulfill that…
“Congratulations, Sarah,” Dr. Thomas says. “You’re five weeks pregnant.”
Vast silence descends. Dr. Thomas recedes by a thousand miles.
I have miscarried twice. The first time, I cried in George’s arms. The second, I slit my wrist. George found solace in growing his vegetable garden and discovered a new strain of purple broccoli.
That same evening, I spot a tiny mole on my stomach.
#
Day by day, the mole stretches, its irregular edges spreading into the surrounding skin.
George is sifting through the mail in the kitchen.
“There’s something growing on my stomach.” I lift my top.
He squints…

Juggling the work stress and pressure to plan our ‘perfect wedding,’ Ethan suggested a short vacation to unplug. After some online research, he found us a rustic homestead in Montana with a view of pristine lush greenery.
At first, I was worried there would be no Wi-Fi or cell reception, but he said, “Zoey, that’s why it’s called ‘unplug.’ It’ll be just you and me on this trip. Trust me, you’ll love it.”
So, here we are in a Ford rental, passing a stretch of dark evergreens on our way to the location keyed into the navigation system.
“Ugh, I…

Ever since moving in with Sir, our relationship has leveled up. There’s so much fun and excitement to look forward to daily.
This morning while we’re having breakfast — eggs, bacon, and fresh fruit — Sir says in his rich and smoky voice, “I want you to wear your toys before you go out today, Lexi. Both the vibrator and the plug.”
“But I’m heading to work.”
“That’s exactly why I’m asking.”
There’s a hint of playfulness in his sapphire blue eyes. Likely a challenge, too, daring me to argue. …

“Happy birthday, Jules!” my best friend and partner-in-crime, Becca, declares as she swings open the door. Her smile is triumphant. “Like what you see?”
Clad in nothing but a towel around his waist, the stud waiting in the private suite is tall and possibly a decade younger than me.
“This is a mistake,” I blurt out.
Becca laughs. “I have a strong feeling you won’t regret this.”
Newly divorced from Steve, I went out with Becca and a bunch of girlfriends two months ago. I remember feeling tired of being lonely. I wanted to have fun. Go on an adventure…

Enjoys blurring the lines between fiction and reality. Multi-genre writer — dabbles in horror, women’s fiction, erotic romance, drama, comedy, and other.