Two friends get caught up in the beauty and wonder of a magical place. They let their senses and emotions lead them to their secret heaven. This is a story written in the male perspective with a female touch. I love the mystical feel and the language in this story. *sigh*
If you're not already member of the Peanut Gallery, this story will surely seem obscure. Puppet sexuality? If you're a Howdy Doody fan, do read on. If you watched TV with a sibling... Well, I can't speak for you.
I'd been married for a few years to a bastard disguised as a gentleman. I thought he was charming, despite his complete inability to tell the truth. After I threw him out, I kept to the house for a long time. No dating. No boyfriends. No sex. Well, not with anyone else. And I was happy, I thought!
Starting college can be tough enough without having the hangups of a straight-laced Catholic-schooled girl. Imagine the funny adventures of Iowa-born and bred Allison Delaney as she attends a liberal East Coast college. You'll be surprised at how she evolves. It starts slow, but picks up speed later on.
It's a song, no that's not what I mean - it's inspired by a song. It's pretty obvious which song it is. (Well it's obvious to me, but then I wrote it - the story not the song.) Read the story and drop me a line if you think you know what the song is. I'll tell you if you're right - not much of an incentive to read the story I know, but then it just goes to show how desperate I am!
In this completed novella, Joe is a submarnie sailor who is left behind on a patrol to attend school. He and a friend volunteer to manage the wives' softball team. During the season Joe and Kevin get drawn into the lives of the players in ways they never imagined. The scene is Hawaii in the early 1970s and I lead you through the beauty and the dirt with plenty of philosophy and fucking.
To everything there is a season. Physicians should never self-diagnose and attorneys, never represent themselves. So an author saying that this is her favorite to date probably isn't that smart. But if I were smart, I wouldn't be a writer. Come be one of us at Wesleyan.