I’ve been quiet on the blog lately. I’ve been working on getting my rights back to the all the stories I’d published. I’ve used that quiet time to build a platform in virtual reality from which we could have influence on the future of the book. Now I am back with the third hypergrid story team I’ve invited to tell a story with me. The talent pool working on this story is so deep you need scuba gear to read through the list of participants at the end. This time author Shannan Albright and I did the story and developed the protagonists together while this incredibly talented team of artists…

Last Sunday night was Girl’s Night. Talla Adams, Siobhan Muir and I planned to drop in at a few adult regions and help promote them by grabbing some photos of what there is to do and see. Normally I run around the grid in ragged jeans or shorts and a tank top. But for this I decided to dress up. I dug out a pair of nice jeans the tigers hadn’t clawed. I ironed my hair. I put on shoes. Hey, I even accessorized with jewelry. We met up at the Greyville landing area and made our first hop and then another and then another. For a variety of reasons…

Armed in white tieand cultured southern pearls,we’re civilly suited. Stepping into the word waltz, an etiquette of circle and tease– stalk in, scurry back. Manufacturing rhythm in plot turned inside out.Sexy repartee confined,to tidy essentials. I stumble, tripping on decorum,bread and butter foreplayconsumed with knife and fork. Corseted in propriety,confinement’s keys unlock cheeky fantasy. Him robed in moonlight,hard body surfinga dew soaked meadow. He’s caught me out,saw mischief dance naked in my eyes.Or tasted whine-laced hunger behind a chaste kiss. Leaning in close,his whisper hot against my ear,he digs in. Ravishes with words. Parts me with devil’s tongue,thoughts spread like a meal. Devour me, sugar.Consume me.Eat with your fingers. ~Nara…