Winner of the Brozne IPPY in the Erotica category of the 2016 Independent Publisher Book Awards

Safe blogSafe: A Collection of Erotic Stories is my second single-author collection and came out on October 15, 2014, from 1001 Nights Press. As contrasted with the erotic romance of If… Then, Safe falls into the erotica genre. (The two volumes were originally submitted as one manuscript and became two before publication.)

Four of Safe‘s ten stories are new and exclusive to this collection, and all of them represent an intangible perspective/energy I ultimately aim to offer via my writing and indeed in life.

Safe is available now in both print and e-book formats at the following retailers:

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Safe: a collection erotic stories

In this collection of ten erotic stories, attraction, heat, and connection serve as catalysts to take characters to places of climax, revelation, transformation, and abiding – sometimes all at once. From hypnotizing dreams to life-changing tragedies to moving on after the end of a relationship, Safe explores the power of sexuality in its myriad forms and manifestations.

“To Make It That Way” shows older woman Cole taking young Zack on a seductive and wild ride, exposing him not only to a considerable sexual education but to more subtle life lessons as well. “Power Over Power” channels the intense energy of a martial arts session, while “Hers to Keep” offers Leslie a surprising lesson in so-called “casual” sex.

Polyamory, masturbation, and BDSM all make appearances in Safe, as do scorching vanilla sex and budding romance. These stories reveal how eros has the power to bring us back to ourselves, propelling us ever deeper into the journeys of sex and life.

Table of Contents

Power Over Power
Hers to Keep
Of Her Own Accord
Open Invitation
Is Not Gold
To Make It That Way
On the Rise

Around the Web


-from “Of Her Own Accord”

In high school, Robert Strickland’s hair had been jet-black, his eyes dark crystal blue. Smooth fair skin and a sturdy build completed the solid, intimidating figure he cut in the black mesh football jersey and loose black jeans he wore on game days during their senior year. He’d been a hottie back then, as she recalled, but for whatever reason she hadn’t noticed him much. Hardly at all, really.

Until the day her friend Lance, who was also on the football team, mentioned that he’d overheard Robert Strickland saying how much he wanted to fuck her.

Evelyn had felt quite surprised at the time. Though Robert was popular, almost darkly so with a bit of a notorious streak in his reputation, he also seemed unusually reserved for someone with such status. Rarely did she see him in conversation; to her he appeared an aloof figure whose mysterious, almost sinister air was perhaps the very spawn of his popularity. He had never spoken to her or so much as acknowledged her existence, and she had been truly unaware he even knew who she was.

After Lance’s disclosure, Evelyn observed Robert covertly in the chemistry class they shared. He certainly hid his attraction well. He did not acknowledge her, and from simple observation, she still would have thought he didn’t know she existed. She wondered if Lance had made a mistake.

Lance assured her, however, that Robert Strickland knew exactly who she was.

Evelyn had never felt compelled to act on the information Lance had imparted, but every once in a while she would recall it as she caught a glimpse of Robert’s silent, enigmatic figure passing in the hall or rounding a corner out of sight. A distinct tug in the pit of her belly would follow, her pussy jumping to attention for an instant before her focus moved on to something else.

Maybe once in a while she had dressed in something a little lower cut on the days she had chemistry class. She might have swung her hips a bit more when she walked by the table Robert shared with his lab partner. But that was all. And as far as she could see, he showed no response to any of it.

Throughout high school, she didn’t remember speaking to him once.

The dream was set present-day, ten years after they’d all graduated and scattered like a handful of chicken feed from their small hometown. How the dream began, the fuzzy, disconnected details of the reunion gathering they’d seemed to be attending, of seeing Robert Strickland amongst the former high school football players in the room, were like the dream’s introduction. Evelyn recalled them vaguely, and she could barely remember how they connected or exactly had led to the scene that followed.

It was that scene, the intoxicating, uninterrupted interaction between her and Robert Strickland responsible for countless orgasms since, that had cut through all the fogginess and nonexistence of a dream and seemed to penetrate reality itself, taking her breath as well as her attention away over and over again long after she had woken up. What replayed most vividly, more even than what he did or how he did it, were his words. How he spoke. What he said. It was that narration, the low string of unbroken utterances that permeated the entirety of the scene, whose magnetic intensity she had yet to escape.

“That’s right, take that cock, you little slut. Spread those legs for me and take it hard and deep.

“You know we all used to talk about you in the locker room after football practice. How we wanted to shove our cocks in you, in your mouth, your pussy, your ass. Just like I’m doing now, ramming this big cock in your hot, tight pussy while you scream for more.”

His touch is different from his words. As rough as it is, the actual physical contact from him feels fascinated, reverent, imbued with gratitude for the opportunity to touch her. She knows this is foundational to what he’s doing—that he somehow knows he is giving her exactly what she craves.

Evelyn shook herself, noticing she was slightly out of breath. Like her memory of Robert himself, the dream seemed dark, mysterious, intimate in an ominous way. While rife with sexual intensity, what was happening was not a fun, carefree romp. There was a seriousness to it, as though it touched a darkness within her that she hadn’t been—may still not be—aware of.

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