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Eroticon Rocks Bristol

Apoligies from the photo staff: for the lack of pictures of the event. Without my trusty hubby there to egg on and facilitate picture taking, I sometimes get caught up in the event and forget. Sadly, or happily, depending on how you look at it, this was one of those times. So you get mostly WORD pictures. Those I’m better at.

I love writing conferences! I’ve never been to one in which I’ve not had a wonderful time and walked away enriched by the experience. The very first ever, long awaited Eroticon, which took place Saturday in Bristol, was no exception. It was the first, but I’m sure all of us who attended are hoping it won’t be the last.

I met Ruby Kiddell in Las Vegas at the EAA Conference last September. Little did I know what that event would set in motion, for the lovely, creative Ruby. Six months later, the woman had somehow, almost as if by magic, put together an amazing event in an amazing city, with amazing guest speakers attended by amazing folks who like to write sexy amazing stuff – online or in story.

For me, the event really started on Friday when I hopped the train to Bristol, my head still spinning with the final details of Riding the Ether. I arrived in Bristol early afternoon and took a taxi to the hotel room. The day was sunny and bright and the air was filled with the promise of spring, which was enough to drive me into the streets, as soon as I was settled in the hotel room, to take in the city. I suppose it’s the walking genes, but I’m a firm believer that in order to really know the soul of a place, it has to be explored with soles – one foot at a time.

I walked in the sunshine along the waterfront. A busker played an accordion and gulls called overhead. My first priority was to find Armada House, where Eroticon was to take place the next day. It was an easy ten minute walk, even playing the shutter-snapping tourist. Once I was sure of the route to the venue, I explored College Green with its fountains and Cathedral, and then walked down past Queens Square, where the first blackbird I’d heard for the season seriously sang from a nearby tree. Back at the waterfront, I settled in for a pint and a salad for dinner while I worked on the read-thru for Ether.

The next day, I arrived early in typical KD fashion, never wanting to miss anything. I’d barely gotten in the door before I met the lovely Jilly Boyd, whom I only knew online. Just then Janine Ashbless arrived. What a delight to see her two weekends in a row. She was followed shortly by Kay Jaybee, Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse. When Rebecca Bond showed up, it felt a bit like a reunion from last week. And there was a whole room full of new people to meet and old friends to get reacquainted with.

After Danish and coffee and a chance to network, the day began with panels, classes, and discussions enough to spoil us for choice (link to courses) The only real problem was that it was impossible to be in two places at once.

The first panel was Identity Ethics and Sex Blogging, which was full of thought provoking insights. Though my blog is not a sex blog, most of what was said and discussed on the panel resonated with anyone who writes sex, whether it’s self-help, personal experience, poetry or fiction.

One of the most eye-opening statements came from Zoe Margolis, AKA Girl with a One Track Mind, who said. ‘It’s a sad state of affairs that we can’t be open about sex. Outside this room, people would think what we’re doing is saucy, perverted.’

I was stunned. I write erotica and surround myself with others who also write erotica and people who are comfortable with their own sexuality and allowing others the space to explore theirs. But Zoe’s statement was a powerful reminder of what we’re up against, as bloggers and authors, and what needs to change before sexuality can be embraced and celebrated for the important part of the human experience that it is.

Armada House, home of Eroticon 2012

Scarlett French, who later led a course of her own called, ‘Taking your writing beyond the page,’ asked the thought-provoking question: Do we perpetuate the segmenting and separating of sex from the rest of life by blogging under a pseudonym?

The answer was a resounding yes, but sadly there didn’t seem to be a real solution for the problem.

Zoe then commented about a blogger’s tea party in New York, which was by roughly an equal number of men and women. When asked. The women blogged under a pseudonym because they feared being judged. The men, however, blogged under a pseudonym only because they wanted to keep their private life separate.

I don’t have the time nor space to talk about all the panels and workshops, however, I felt that the first panel set the tone for the rest of the day and was so full of food for thought that it alone would have made the day worth it. Please check the link for more details on the events and for some wonderful posts from the participants. And there were so many fabulous people there. I could name-drop all day.

Another fabulous encounter, for me, happened when my lovely, publisher, Hazel Cushion, from Xcite Books, who was there for the panel of publishers, quietly directed me to the Lovehoney Sex Toys booth to meet the wonderful, Alice Little in her sassy cherry-print frock. Lovehoney sells and promotes my novels, and Alice is a fan of The Initiation of Ms Holly. Lovehoney have been fabulous supporters and seriously good sales rep for my work. It was a pleasure to meet the people behind the lovely toys and equally lovely book sales. Joined by my dear friend and fab author, Kay Jaybee, we talked writing and books and sex toys. Lovehoney were one of the sponsors of the event, and Alice was very happy to talk us through the range that Lovehoney had brought to display. I’ll be placing an order …

We spent a happy few minutes thumbing through the amazing prints of fabulous photographer, John Tisbury, chatting with Jade Whisk about stories the prints sparked for us and the pitfalls of getting published. After that, I split the next session between the Northern Birds, Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse, who were running a workshop on promoting, marketing and blog tours, which was, in typical Felthouse /Blisse fashion, informative, sassy and fun. Then I rushed downstairs to catch the second half of the panel on blogging and the press.

The evening was topped off by a stunning demonstration of spanking by London Faerie and Lori Smith of Bitch Buzz, and a gorgeous burlesque performance. Sadly, for all of us authors, who came prepared to read, there was not enough time for the readings. Too many wonderful events, not enough time.

The day ended with dinner with Maxim Jakubowski, Jacqui Brocker, Josephine Myles, Lily Harlem, Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse. After

Hazel Cushion presents the 2012 Xcite Award to Alice Litte representing Lovehoney, who won the Best Sex Toys Shop award.

burgers and chips and much conversation about – you guessed it – writing and sex, we all headed to our respective hotels. As it turned out Lily Harlem, Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse were staying in the same hotel as I was, and Josephine Miles had an hour to kill before catching her taxi to the train station. AND our hotel had a quiet bar.

Five smutters, a good supply of drinks, alcoholic and otherwise, and as you can imagine, it was filth time! By the end of the evening we had schemed future anthologies, nasty stories, and had filthy discussions of the ones that got away and how glad we were they did. Oh, and did I mention, we talked writing? As fabulous as the event was, what these events do that’s the very best part for me, is give writers, who are by nature, solitary creatures, who seldom come out of their caves unless they HAVE to, a chance to celebrate their craft with other writers. I know, I know, it’s called networking, but that word is so business-like and cold. I’m kind of toying with the word smutworking. When sex writers get together, it’s not so much about what we can do for each other. It’s more about a common experience shared and made somehow deeper and more celebratory for the being shared by a bunch of introverts.

The view across the square to our hotel, where much creative smuttery happened

I had quality time with fabulous people – some who were my heroes before I spent time with them, and many who certainly were AFTER. Gathering for a weekend with other sex writers, whether it’s fiction, non-fiction, or blogging, makes me realize just how important what we do is. Sex writers are at the forefront of the boundary pushing that needs to happen for sexuality to stop being the nasty that’s hush-hush and separate from the rest of the human experience and become the vibrant, integrated celebration and perpetuator of life that it truly is. We’ve got our work cut out for us, but wow, are we in good company!

 

Happy Endings and Great Beginnings

Happy Endings

Some of 2011 pubs. Still waitning for copies of some.

I’ve finished 2011 with good news and happy endings. I wrote two novellas and got them out the door since the beginning of October. My dance card is already full of new projects for 2012, even before the year begins, and both The Pet Shop and Body Temperature and Rising are getting great reviews. That would have been happy ending enough for 2011. But there were double cherries on top of all the lovely whipped cream goodness of the year.

Honourable Mention

My novel, Body Temperature and Rising, made honourable mention on Violet Blue’s much coveted list of Top 12 Best Sex Books of 2011. That’s one huge cherry! Here’s what she had to say:

I am a huge fan of K.D. Grace’s explicit, well-crafted writing (I’ve selected and published her work in multi-author “Best” collections), and this novel did not disappoint me. It’s the first of a hardcore paranormal trilogy, and many readers think it is her best work to date.

Thank you, Violet, for the happy ending!

 

Xcite Awards Finalist

I’ve always been able to count on Xcite Books for cherries and whipped cream, and they didn’t disappoint! The second gigantic cherry topping off 2011 came in the form of a nomination as one of the finalists of the Xcite Awards in the Best Blog or Author’s Page category! I’m over the moon about this, especially since a year and a half ago I was the one dragging my feet about even having a blog. I know now that it was my fearful technophobia rearing its ugly head. I played around with a blog for awhile, then, enter Lucy Felthouse (also nominated, BTW. Talk about stiff competition!) who created my fabulous site and endured my ignorance with calming encouragement, teaching me what I need to know and giving me the occasional virtual pat on the back and pep talk to keep me from panicking when I was in over my head. Thanks Lucy! You rock!

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t very proud of my site now, but I’d also be lying if I took all the credit. What I’ve loved, what’s been the best part of this blog, is having so many fabulous people as guests. We’ve talked about wonderful books, we’ve talked about major problems, we’ve celebrated sexuality, we’ve groused and laughed and played on my site in the past year. My life is so much richer because of all of the great guests who have shared their time and creativity here. And I’ve had loads of fun promoting my books, whether walking the Coast to Coast Path with The Initiation of Ms Holly, or climbing down in derelict slate mines in the Lake District while researching Body Temperature and Rising. We’ve talked sex and books and fun ad launches and inspiration, we’ve learned the story behind some of the fabulous novels and works that came out this year, and all in all just had a great time. So, if I can take credit for anything, it’s for having way more fun with my blog than I would have ever imagined, thanks to all the people and all the great experiences that made A Hopeful Romantic the blog it is.

Thanks, Xcite, for this fabulous honour. And best of luck to all the amazing women I’m up against! If I could, I’d vote for all of them because they’re all terrific women with wonderful sites!

Here’s the link for voting: https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/XciteAwards
 

Great Beginnings

Fun in 2012 has already begun. Riding the Ether, book two of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, is on its way! There’ll be more research trips to the Lake Districts. You see how I suffer for my art. I’m already training hard for our next long distance walk, which will be shared on this blog, and closely associated with Riding the Ether. There’ll be more garden porn, more launches, more readings and more sneak peeks of the latest works of some of your favourite sexy writers. There’ll also be some exciting new writers as well. And there’ll be some amazing interviews with fascinating people. Of course, there’ll be plenty of surprises along the way. So, Happy 2012, everyone! Enjoy the ride. It’s gonna be a good one!

 

The Crowded Room

I feel really privileged to put the cherry on the top of the First Annual RomFan Reviews Holiday Blog Hop, especially when the last few days of the year have a very special place in my heart. It’s been great to share this fabulous time of year with so many wonderful writers and bloggers, and to make some new friends in the process. You all rock! Annette Stone, a special thanks to you for making it all happen. And now, I’d like to tell everyone just why the last few days of the year, the last week, to be exact.

It’s that time of year again. It’s time to wax slightly nostalgic and do a little navel gazing and reflecting. The last week of the year has always fascinated me. It’s not like the rest of the year. It’s almost like there are really only fifty-one weeks in the year, then there’s the crowded room of a space tacked on to the end, a place not unlike my grandmother’s living room was, all crowded full of the bits and pieces and memorabilia of eighty-three years of living.

The last week of the year is a mini version of that living room that happens anew every year, a mental version, a room that everyone has in their head. It doesn’t matter how expansive or how crazy the previous fifty-one weeks have been, this final week is the tiny space into which we crowd everything that has happened, and for those last seven days of the year, we reflect and remember.

At the front of that crowded room is a big picture window looking back onto all of the past years of experiences. During this last week of 2011, we’ll go inside that room, shut the door behind us, knowing we’ll never go back through that door again. There we’ll settle in to the one comfy chair, the only space that isn’t avalanching with memories and emotions and experiences, and we’ll reflect. Occasionally we’ll stop for a long stare out the window into the years past to try and make out how it all fits together. I often write a massive journal entry at the year’s end. I settle in with wine and chocolate and good coffee and all my favourite things and write. The entry is always full of reflections and memories and plans for the future, all done during the time spent in that crowded room that’s the last week of the year. I wager I’m in good company in that endeavor.

I used to ask my grandmother who was in this old photo or that, or where she got this porcelain doll or that china figurine. Every item in her living room had a story. It was a gift from someone, or a souvenir from some marked event in her life, or something someone had made for her or she had made for herself. My grandmother’s living room was a book full of stories I only ever experienced through her eyes, stories that were lost in the mist to anyone but her and the few of her older friends who still remained, all with story book living rooms of their own.

This time of year, in this last week, we all sit in our mental story book living rooms and tell ourselves one last time the stories that have been our life for the past fifty-one weeks. We laugh at our joys, we mourn our losses, thankful that they’re now passed and we nod our heads in satisfaction at our successes, promising they’ll be even bigger next year.

My grandmother lived to be eighty-three. There was a finality about her over-crowded living room. That last-week-of-the-year room we all occupy right now has its own finality. After midnight tomorrow, we can crowd no more into that room. We leave it as it is, papers strewn, boxes open, bed unmade, cup of tea half finished. Mind you, some of us spend our last hours in that room frantically trying to crowd just a little more into it. That’s me, sitting in the recliner madly tapping away at the laptop trying to get another chapter written, another short story out before I have to leave this room and lock the door behind me.

And it’s been a good year, a wild rambunctious year crowded with laughter and tears and the celebration of two new novels, a challenging Coast to Coast walk across England, conferences, readings, vegetables planted and eaten. I have lots of pictures in my year’s mental photo album, I have lots of triumphs and losses, and lots of time spent with wonderful friends and loved ones. Hold it! I’ll stop right now because once I get going, I’ll give you the whole inventory, and you, no doubt have your own crowded room to inventory.

It doesn’t matter though, if we’re sitting reflecting on all that fills this room, or if we’re frantically trying to fill it fuller before the clock strikes. At midnight tomorrow night, we’ll all take a deep breath, open the door and walk out into the empty room waiting for us, the empty room that’s 2012. All we’ll take with us is our memories of the room we left and our hopes and plans for how we’ll fill this bright new room that stretches promisingly before us. Some of us make New Years resolutions, some of us just plow in without a plan of action, but one thing is for certain, this time next year, if we live that long, we’ll be sitting in the full room again reflecting on how the experiences of 2012 have shaped us, anticipating how we’ll take the experiences into the next empty room. And that’s all we’ll be allowed to take with us, our experiences, our memories,

My wish for you all is that your reflections in your crowded room will be good ones, satisfying ones. And at the stroke of midnight, that you’ll enter that bright new empty room of 2012 with hope and joy and anticipation of how wonderfully you’ll fill it up.

I’d like to help you heat up your empty room by offering a choice of either of a PDF version of either of my novels, The Initiation of Ms Holly or The Pet Shop. Winner’s choice. Leave a comment to be included in the drawing for the giveaway. All the best in the New Year!

 

 

Best Gifts of the Year and the Yearly Navel Gaze

I would like to celebrate the season by being thankful for all the gifts that didn’t fit under the tree, and all the early gifts, the ones I got way before Christmas, the ones that make anything under the tree seem, well sort of anti-climactic.

The Gift of Writing

Holly at the Piccadilly Waterstones in London. We have arrived!

Like you didn’t see that one coming! I’ve loved it since I could hold a pencil and do more than scribble. Every year I love it more and more. This year I loved it through two novels, two novella’s, a slew of short stories, and blog posts too numerous to count. And all the while I was frantically writing, I was watching how well The Initiation of Ms Hollywas selling with a very broad, very silly smile on my face. The only thing better than loving writing is having

Pets in Soho, next door to Madame JoJo's, where the Kitten Club performes. Where else would they want to be?

other people love my writing!

Oh yes! The writing gift was particularly good this year! And, I’m already rattling and shaking the package of next year’s writing gifts, which promise to be just as exciting, if not more so.

 

The Gift of Outside

I know, I know; you saw that one coming too, didn’t you? But being outside makes me a better writer, and it’s been a great year for being outside. Most of you who are my friends on Facebook have suffered through endless photos of our vegetable garden and the lovely harvest. Some of you were even green with envy when the raspberries and strawberries came on. I didn’t include even one photo of the slugs or snails or the abundant weeds, though that might be a promising photo op for next year. With any luck, an allotment will be in our near future and then you can expect lots more garden porn.

Many of you know that I walk my stories, and I’ve had some fantastically inspirational walks this year. I’ve been

Me on the beach at Lincoln City, Oregon

enthralled by the fabulous fungi in the local woodlands in the autumn walks, I’ve walked the Oregon Coast and the lava flows in the Cascades with my sister. I’ve walked on the Strip in Las Vegas with writing friends.  I’ve walked amid the incredible blossoms in spring and the lovely sunsets in high summer and everything in between, all the while working out plots and characters and settings. Being outside always balances me and centres me again, which is a good thing, since I tend to be a bit obsessive.

The Gift of Adventure

The very stylish 'drowned rat' look walking the Coast to Coast Path

The biggest adventure of all this year was the fourteen days in August when Raymond and I walked the Wainwright Coast to Coast Path across England. Yes, you heard me right, across England. I like to repeat that phrase a lot because it’s still amazing to me. Oh, by the way, did I mention that it was all the way across England!

Not only did we walk it, but I blogged about it, and those of you who followed the posts definitely caught glimpses of me at … well not exactly my best. It was one of the toughest, most amazing experiences I’ve had, and I had to dig deep to finish it. That’s another package I’m rattling for next year. Oh yes! There’ll be another Bad Ass walk! And I’m scheming to get Raymond to blog it with me this time.

Then there was Vegas! Yes, I packed my bags and went to Las Vegas for the first annual Erotic Authors Association

At the Erotic Heritage Museum in Las Vegas during the Erotic Literary Salon reading

Conference. There aren’t enough wows for that fantastic experience. Though Vegas wouldn’t have been my first choice of cities to visit in the States, I couldn’t have chosen a more fabulous group of people to spend a hot and action-packed weekend with. The very best part of the Vegas gift was finally putting faces to names of some of the American erotica writers, who had long been my friends online. And they were every bit as wonderful in person! With amazing people, panels, workshops and two readings, one at the Erotic Heritage Museum standing between a plethora of eight-foot white marble penises, oh yes, it was good!

Justine Elyot, Janine Ashbless, Rachel Kramer Bussel, Kay Jaybee, Me, Jacqueline Applebee at Sh! Hoxton in July

There were numerous readings in London, as well, which are always a gift. One was with my dear friend, Kay Jaybee. One was with one of my heroes in the world of erotica, Rachel Kramer Bussel. Then there was the huge, blow-out launch party for my second novel, The Pet Shop, in October at my favourite place, Sh! Hoxton, with so many of my favourite people. And now Pets are happily misbehaving not only all over London, but all over the UK. In January they’ll be misbehaving in the States too!

Of course, I've been naughty, Santa! And THIS Santa just happens to be Peter Birch, who's not exactly angelic either;)

Definitely one of the best gifts of the year was Erotica, 2011 — three days of fabulous, delicious naughtiness at the Olympia Convention Centre in London. And Raymond and I were there for all three! We had the pleasure of working with the terrific folks from Xcite Books, doing readings, panels and selling and signing LOTS of books written by yours

The lovely ladies from the House of Burlesque have fabulous tastes in literature!

truly. In the midst of all the thongs and corsets and whips and nosebleed stilettos, I was the one with the ear-to-ear smile.

Friends

Hazel Cushion, Matt Peterson, Peter Newsom at the Xcite stand

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, at the end of the day, it’s the gift of people that matters more than anything else, and I’ve had so many fabulous people surround me this year that it’s impossible to come close to expressing how they’ve enriched my life. This was the year that I got to know the folks at Xcite Books a little better. Hazel Cushion, Matt Peterson, Peter Newsom, and the lovely Miranda Forbes. You all are totally amazing. Thanks for all you do.

This was the year I got involved with Fannying Around, Sarah Berry’s fantastic brainchild, and the source of a lot more new friends. Through a year of laughing and chatting and learning to appreciate our bodies, I’ve come to love and respect Sarah even more than I already did. Amazing hardly begins to describe this lovely lady.

The lovely Sarah Berry

For two years now, Sh! Women’s Erotic Emporium has played a major role in my life by helping with research, supporting my work, and just being fabulous. It was love at first sight for me when I met these amazing Ladiez. They truly are modern-day heroines. Plus, they have great taste in eroticaJ I admire them more than I can ever say.

Brian and Von Spencer opened up the great outdoors for me, showed me how to use a compass and a map, and turned me lose in the Lake District to fall utterly and totally in love with the place. They have shown Raymond and me breath taking parts of the Lake District we might never have known to look for without them. They have inspired the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, and have

Lucy Felthouse, Lexie Bay, Rebecca Bond, Victoria Blisse, me, Kay Jaybee at Erotica

helped all along the way with the research. I admire them deeply, and I hope when I grow up I can be just like them!

There are two lovely women who have inspired me and encouraged me and been there for me through all the writing adventures of the past year. Lucy Felthouse, the fearless EP, is not only a promising young writer, but a PR and marketing person extraordinaire. She designed my fabulous website and has staved off many a panic attack for me as I venture into the

Lucy Felthous and Kay Jaybee at Sh! Hoxton

scary realms of PR and marketing. Lucy has taught me how to promote my brand, and bless her, that couldn’t have been an easy task. Don’t know how I would have managed without her.

The second lovely lady is the fabulous writer and even more fabulous person Kay Jaybee. Again it was love at first sight. Hon, the journey wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun without you. Your encouragement and fabulous sense of humour, and your loving spirit have been one of the best gifts of this year. Thanks for being you.

There are others, lots of others. My life is rich because of the people in it, and they are, as always, the very best gifts. They are what give all the other gifts meaning.

Me and Kay Jaybee with my delicious 'test subject.' Notice the smile he's sporting.

The Gift of Love

And of course, you saw this coming, too, didn’t you? The best gift of all, the best gift for all our years together, is the gift of love. The one closest to my heart, the one who encourages me, stand by me, loves me, and keeps his head down when I’m not very loveable and the sh*t is hitting the fan, my lover and best friend, my husband, Raymond, the man who brings out the best in me and loves me through the worst. He is the man who is proud of me, the man who tells his friends that I use him for research. And he’s the man who is willing to don a pair of walking boots and walk across England with me. I’m a very lucky woman indeed.

The man of my heart!

Happy Navel Gazing!

I promised when Lucy and I began this website almost a year ago that I wouldn’t navel gaze, that I would do my best to make this blog a place worth visiting, and I’ve done my best to do that. But it’s that time of year, and navel gazing is as much a part of the season as mistletoe and cheesy Christmas music, so I figured you might, with the holiday spirit and all, be willing to forgive me just this one.

Having said that, I wish you good navel gazing as the year grows to a close. May 2012 be filled with love and laughter and challenges and adventure and many, many causes for celebration.

Happy Navel Gazing, wherever you are!

 

The Marriage of Intellect and Animal

Last night Raymond and I went to an  Astronomical Society meeting in which Stephen Slater was discussing the making of his film, Destination Titan, which was shown recently on BBC. As he played back footage of that amazing moment when Huygens actually landed on Titan, I had a lump in my throat.  And I couldn’t help it. My eyes misted a bit. This was humanity at its most amazing. With the help of our technology, we had flung our consciousness out into the cosmos. Over a billion kilometers from home, the Huygens lander, equipped with an instrument package not much bigger than a shoe box, sent us back information from a world that we could scarcely have imagined. Now, six and a half years on, I still can’t get my head around it, and yet it’s a fact. We have the data to prove it.

Afterwards I came back home and answered the questions for an interview Sarah Barry was doing for the  Fannies Rule website. The questions involved why I liked a full bush, something I’m always happy to expound upon. That’s right. We were discussing pubic hair. So what do the two have to do with each other? Seemingly nothing. That’s what’s so amazing. These are classic examples of our  human duality. We have the intellect to conceive, design and build a space craft and a landing craft that will visit worlds we can barely conceive of at distances we can barely imagine. And we made it happen. And yet in the blood and bone and DNA of us, we’re animals, so similar to all other animals on our planet that it’s astounding, even disturbing.

Are we a little lower than the angels? Oh, I don’t think so. I think any angel would envy the position of humanity, the marriage of intellect and animal, the being who can fling her consciousness into space and bring it back to herself and in the very next breath join in the rut that’s the biological drive of all animals. But even the down and dirty of it, the rough and tumble between the sheets of it,  is in itself an act of flinging our consciousness out there into the great unknown, into the great unknown of the other, the lover, the one who mirrors us, but whose secrets we can never quite touch except through that physical act of joining.

Wow! Humans! So wonderful and so terrible, so in need of each other and yet so alone in ourselves. And for the most part so totally clueless of what we are really capable.

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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