“I feel we owe Stormy more for her moxie than handfuls of sweaty singles.”

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The Stormy Daniels (And Melania Too) Effect  as published on HuffPost.com 8/26

Sex/human trafficking and the sex trade are themes I deal with in my Code Raven Series and particularly in my recent publication of Lie To Me an exposé on sex for money  I thought you might enjoy this provocative and witty article by Lily Burana, a feminist and fellow author, published in HuffPost today. 

 

Tucker Carlson (he who has crafted a lasting brand from bowtied White Male Grievance) was fuming on air the other night, Now that Stormy Daniels is part of the resistance, porn is noble!

Or something like that. I didn’t hear the exact words because I was too busy cackling smugly.

The statement seems to indicate that Carlson, prima facie Right-Wing Outrage, is heated up about not being able to make a partisan bitch slap out of a woman’s employment in the sex industry because she, apparently, is showing social (and political) capital above and beyond her lowly “ho” status. Baby boy angry cuz baby boy can’t slut-shame right now! You stay mad, Carlson!

Meanwhile, over here in feminist ladyland, I’m thrilled.

When it comes to how we talk (and joke) about women who’ve worked in adult entertainment, times are changing. Even stories in The New York Times are changing. Certainly, the courage that Stormy Daniels has shown in the face of incredible antagonism can be credited for this shift. Think what you will about her line of endeavor, but my God, her chutzpah in taking on Donald Trump is commendable.

But she’s not the only game-changer here. Melania gets a nod for this shift as well. She’s a woman who modeled nude (sometimes with other women in a hotsy-totsy, clearly-for-titillation configuration), and then, boom, there she was, years later, wife of a Republican magnate and devoted mother.

This has created a bracketing effect ― leftie porn star, right-wing former nude model ― that has muted the impulse to couch a political dig in a bimbo-bashing wrapper. Yes, the hypocrisy of Donald Trump being the head of a party that waves the “family values” flag while being such a creep himself has made its way into late-night monologues and political cartoons: I can’t believe Trump has the NERVE to work the CHRISTIAN ANGLE after he had AN AFFAIR with a PORN STAR. (Because it would’ve been a lesser betrayal if he’d bedded the local chapter president of the Junior League? Help me out here.) But it’s not as sticky of a comedic gambit as it would’ve been even 10 years ago.

I feel we owe Stormy more for her moxie than handfuls of sweaty singles.

Stormy and Melania having both created prurient adult material has, oddly, engendered a bipartisan truce around using sex workers as punchlines or moral lancets. Neither the right nor the left can slut-bash the other side, because each side has its own major presence who is, or was, working en dishabille. Thus, we can’t use that to make political hay. Between Melania’s nude girl-girl photo shoots and Stormy’s turn on the strip club stage and porn set, we’ve eased away from political slut-shaming.

Hallelujah, and may it ever be thus.

Melania, fused in marriage and image with all things Trump and silent as a cipher herself, is something of a suspect blank slate. There’s not much for us to attach to her except guilt by association. But the fact that she hasn’t issued some sort of mewling public apology for her nude modeling photos should be taken as a marker that she ― and the country of which she’s first lady ― is not convinced that any renunciation or mea culpa is required.

Then, we have the volubly sassy and articulate Stormy Daniels. She’s curiously sympathetic folk heroine: She seems to have accepted her lot in life with an admirable blend of pragmatism and good humor, and she has been presented in full 360-degree “actual human being” format in mainstream profiles. She’s a working wife and mother, protective of her child, and incensed by the hypocrisy and corruption of this administration. Add to that her appealingly curvy mom-bod and the pleasing softness to her facial features and you’re like, “You know what? I don’t need to be a jerk about her being a porn star. She’s flesh and blood like us, trying to keep it together while the country goes mad along with everyone else out here.”

Think what you will about her line of endeavor, but my God, her chutzpah in taking on Donald Trump is commendable.

The feminist view of how to treat and discuss women primarily known, willingly or not, for their sexual exploits has also shifted in a far more charitable and sympathetic direction. To have a roundtable of prominent feminists assemble to run down and ridicule such a woman in a major publication like they did with Monica Lewinsky in The New York Observer back in 1998, seems unthinkable now. Bimbo-baiting and shaming are entirely passé, as they have been revealed to be part of the patriarchal dictate to police, and even damage, other women’s lives through judgment. This type of censure through mockery is not a good look for women on either side of the so-called madonna/whore divide ― or either side of the political aisle.

Even normally censorious, socially conservative writers are taking heed and resisting the urge to make the character-assassinating, tongue-clucking cheap shot. Case in point: Professional scold Caitlin Flanagan laid off her usual troweling of disapproval in a May article in The Atlantic. The biggest arrow she dared fire was referring to Daniels as “an aging sex worker,” which from our stern, “the best birth control is holding an aspirin between your knees,” Catholic auntie CaitFlan is practically a pat on the head.

Historically, there has been so much unmitigated hostility toward any woman who does any form of sex work, at any level and for any reason, that if it takes a sense of partisan loyalty to stem the tide of vitriol and low blows, I’ll take it.

We seem to be growing up a bit, able to see now that on the grand continuum of moral “crimes,” female sexual adventuring is on the tame end directly opposite from, say, cratering an entire democracy through, you know, actual crime.

As for what the future holds for these two iconic women who’ve had the audacity to be both naked for money and fully human, I hope Melania has her own escape plan in place, to implement if and when the time comes.

For Stormy, it’s hard to say. In days of yore (you know, like in the 1980s and 1990s), a woman caught in the center of a sex scandal would be offered a royal sum to strip off for a major men’s magazine. Amidst the dwindling readership ― and budgets ― of skin mags, I doubt such an economic rocket boost still exists. However, if anyone deserves the million-dollar post-scandal pinup retirement package, it’s Stormy Daniels. In the absence of that opportunity, maybe she’ll get a big publishing contract for a book in which she can thoroughly examine her side of things (mama, if you need a ghostwriter, you call me).

Even normally censorious, socially conservative writers are taking heed and resisting the urge to make the character-assassinating, tongue-clucking cheap shot.

Regardless of the manifestation, I hope there’s a payout and I hope it’s plenty big. She’s out there capitalizing on her notoriety with her “Make America Horny Again” dancing tour at various strip clubs (and getting set up for arrest at one appearance), but I feel we owe Stormy more for her moxie than handfuls of sweaty singles.

This isn’t to suggest that we all now view adult entertainment as a job like any other job (it isn’t) or that speaking of the workers in the business with civility will transform porn into some amazing cool job that teen girls will choose instead of working at, say, Piercing Pagoda (it won’t). All it means is that we’ve been able (in this case, anyway) to realize slut-shaming is a zero-sum activity and that a hearty chuckle at the rich irony of the situation need not escalate into sick burns on the naked ladies involved. It means that where female sexuality is concerned, we’ve decided, collectively, to not be freaking mean for once.

Yes, there are plenty of bawdy laughs to be had in this trash-fire Trump administration, and let us take our delight where we may. Hit “share” on those “Trump’s Pecker Problem” headlines and the meme of Snoopy at his typewriter atop his doghouse, tapping out “And then, America was saved by a Porn Star. THE END.” We’ve been wounded and anguished for months, so we might as well yuk it up while we’re able. So yes, let us continue to find the humor ― just spare the usual (female) suspects the humiliation of being the butt of the joke.

These are strange days indeed, and we are finally seeing some glimmers of hope that our long national political nightmare may soon end. How wonderful it is to think we might just have the last laugh at an administration that’s a total joke. And how novel that an ever-so-slight uplift for so-called fallen women — of any political affiliation — might be the end product of misogynist folly.

 

Lily Burana is the author of four books, most recently Grace for Amateurs: Field Notes on a Journey Back to Faith (W Books/Harper). Follow her on Twitter @lilyburana.

 

Captivating, entertaining, and exciting!

In case you missed this deal!

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Excerpts from

Lie to Me an exposé on sex for money    only  $.99 cents KCD

“Somewhere in this romantic little seaside town, a woman was preparing for an evening of pleasure. Nervous no doubt, maybe it was her first time. She showered and perfumed her body, trying to ignore its flaws. She applied her makeup perfectly. Her mask was in place. She shivered slightly, a moment’s hesitation over the evening to come, worried just a little about the act she was about to perform. Would he meet her expectations? Would he be gentle, would he please her? Was she being stupid and foolish? Would it be safe? As she sipped her glass of courage, there would be a knock at her door. Her body tingled in anticipation. There would be no turning back now.”

 

 

What reviewers and readers are saying:

“a spellbinding story that explores the psychology of sex in a way that defies Coelho’s Eleven Minutes.”

“Lynda Filler’s novel is character-driven, emotionally intense, and packed with action, a story that explores male psychology regarding sex and a woman’s quest to redefine her identity in a world of twisted morals, where men are driven by the quest for orgasm. “

“The emotional and psychological conflicts are well-explored in this novel and they are at the heart of the plot.

“The characters are exceptional, written with depth, and a lot of humanity is injected into them.”

“Lie to Me: An Exposé on Sex for Money is insanely captivating, entertaining and exciting.” 

 

$.99 cents on Amazon 

Lie to Me an exposé on sex for money     

To anyone who has ever loved someone from afar.

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Book Review 5/5 Stars

LOVE ON HOLD by Mia Miller

A friend texted me one day and said: “You have to read this book!!”

I did, I finished it in one sitting, laughing out loud, and connecting beyond time and space with this unique story. Yes. It resonated with me and more than likely will with you.

3:45 in the morning: unknown number calling.
Send the stranger on their way and go back to sleep, right? Except – his gruff voice made me think twice.

I was a small girl with big dreams. I juggled college, charity, and a job while dodging an annoying ex. Getting to know a guy? That was way down on my list. So I had every intention of ignoring sexy Joel Thomas when he woke me up.
But he wouldn’t let me. When did texting and calling turn into feelings? We kept our identities a secret and didn’t see each other. Yet, we fell in love.

Will our chemistry stand the test of reality?

An inspirational story about dating in the modern world. 

 

 

 

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His sophisticated restless forty-something wife, her superbly tanned body medically enhanced, skimmed Fifty Shades of Grey. She looked up occasionally, her cheeks flushed and her teeth biting her lush nude lips.

 Lie To Me an exposé on sex for money  

An unforgettable story about the boys who sell sex in sultry passionate Puerto Vallarta and the women who pay for it.

Sexy? You bet it is!

 

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From the author of TARGET in the SUN, Best in Contemporary Fiction 2017 comes the steamy release:

Lie to Me an exposé on sex for money    Last days on sale!

“This becomes my favorite and creates a yearning for adventure like that caused by Eat Pray Love.” Gowri

“Sexy? You bet it is. Lynda Filler has a thoughtful way of delivering her wicked sexy story directly, to my very own wicked intimate imaginings.” Mz Patchouli

“Ms. Filler has once again seduced her readers with a very real, very sexy story of love lost, romance found, and sex purchased….for the right price, of course. Very well done!” Sabrina Jean

“Lie to Me, is insanely captivating, entertaining, and exciting… A spellbinding story that explores the psychology of sex in a way that defies Coelho’s Eleven Minutes.” 5 STARS R. Dzemo, Readers’ Favorite. 

From Lie To Me an exposé on sex for money

Layla Duncan–a forty-something writer–has an insatiable curiosity about Mexico’s other tourism, men who sell steamy sexual encounters to vacationing women in Puerto Vallarta. She infiltrates the organized underworld of male prostitution, interviews several men and writes an exposé of their lives. The lines between Layla’s personal life and professional assignment quickly become blurred, and she finds herself questioning her value system in an exciting yet disturbing way.

Quote from the book

Twenty-year-old Mateo:   

He was a ghost. He had no past that he could cling to, a present full of lies, and a future filled with despair. Unless he made changes.

“I’m confused. I’ve never been involved with someone before. I never allowed myself to care before. You are like this wild card that has come into my life. I didn’t ask for you, I didn’t want to fall in love with you. But I think that’s what I feel for you.”

What are your secrets? Layla wondered. Is it pain, or deceit you’re running from; or are you running from yourself?

“Layla, you are so grown up and yet, such a little girl. Don’t you know there are bad men out there? They will set you up, charm you, steal your heart, then take everything else you have to offer. You should go home, little girl, back to Colorado where you belong.” Mateo sighed.

Layla saw a man who lived with wolves in the forest.
Would he ever belong to her?
Mateo drifted off to sleep.
Only music lingered.

lie filler

Purchase at Amazon on sale: Lie to Me an exposé on sex for money 

 

 

 

 

.99 cents, don’t Lie To Me!​

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February is the month of LOVE. I thought I would offer deep discounts and free books this month to celebrate my favorite topic. Let’s start the month off with my latest release at .99 cents for today and tomorrow, and then $1.99 in a Kindle Countdown Deal.

Here is an overview of the story; and right underneath I will share what the readers have to say about Lie To Me an exposé on sex for money

How many lives have been ruined for the pleasure of an orgasm?

Forty-something Layla Duncan, a women’s magazine writer, has a dangerous obsession with men who sell steamy sexual encounters to vacationing women in Puerto Vallarta. She infiltrates the underworld of male prostitution, interviews several men and begins to write a mesmerizing exposé of their lives.

Before long the lines between Layla’s personal life and professional assignment become blurred, and she finds herself questioning her value system in a titillating yet disturbing way.

Sparks fly one night when she takes a break from her writing and meets the sensual twenty-something Mateo at a local nightclub. The charismatic yet quiet young Mexican man seems oblivious to his powerful sexual aura but is immediately turned on by Layla. The one-night-stand turns into sporadic hook-ups, while two emotionally damaged lovers long for something neither can put into words. 

Lynda Filler has once again delivered a fast-paced, sexy and sometimes gut-wrenching page-turner that will unnerve you and leave you breathless. 

 

What are the readers saying about  Lie To Me an exposé on sex for money?

“LTM is insanely captivating, entertaining and exciting. It’s a spellbinding story that explores the psychology of sex in a way that defies Coelho’s Eleven Minutes.” R. Dzemo 5 STARS READERS’ FAVORITE BOOK REVIEWS

“Loved “Lie To Me” Great storyline. Wonderful author. Not too tame. Not too wild. More like Goldilocks…it’s just right. Sexy? You bet it is. Lynda Filler has a thoughtful way of delivering her wicked sexy story directly, to my very own wicked intimate imaginings. I love to read. I read everything from Ancient History to the taboo (a lot of similarities there). I would file ‘Lie To Me’ under, exotic & erotic or sweet & sexy or both. I would do my best to persuade men as well as women, to read this fun/sexy exposé.” Mz Patchouli

“Filler has created an exciting, sexy, heart-breaking book. Her characters are vibrant and engaging. The story is solid and builds in intensity. The conclusion is perfect, if somewhat predictable. All in all, this more than just a romance or an erotic novel. It is an exploration of human experiences and the need we all have to love and be loved.” E. Horton-Newton, Author
“This is a story of a woman who goes with the flow of life, trying to find herself in the process while so much inner turmoil is going on. And through this process, she redefines the meaning of love for herself.” Gowri
“I’ve read a couple of Lynda Filler’s books in the past, but her latest, Lie To Me is without a doubt, the best work of hers I’ve read. It is taut, well-written and full of insightful perceptions of people and their motivations.” REA

 

Amazon.com Lie to Me Lie To Me an exposé on sex for money

 

“Explode onto the page”

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One of the best parts of my job as a professional book reviewer is discovering new indie talent, but even more importantly watching that writing talent grow and mature over the years and the books. This is very much the case with this author, Lynda Filler. I had read some of her earlier books and although I enjoyed them and I had a feeling there was something special about her writing and her stories, it is only now, with her latest book, Lie To Me, that I can see that talent literally explode onto the page and excite me, as a reader.
Lie to Me, is a hard-hitting, powerful story about male prostitution in Mexico, as told through the eyes of Layla, an American writer who lives in Puerto Vallarta and writes, freelance for a magazine in the US, and also through the individual male prostitute’s perspectives. Layla is fascinated by both the older men and women who come to Mexico looking for sex and the young, Mexican men who provide it for them, for a fee. What motivates them and how do they cope with the emotional attachments that so often invariably form? Layla also has her own personal demons and is convinced that love, especially with a young Mexican man, is not only silly but counterproductive to her work. she loves the sex, but shuns the attachments, or at least tries desperately hard to do so.
Lie to Me is incredibly well written, tight, taut, descriptive, and everything I’d expect from a long-time, well-established, professional author. It thrills me to see the depth of the writing and the emotions Filler is now able to extract from her work. This is a wonderful story of an alternative lifestyle that may well be eye-opening for some, but fascinating nonetheless. For me, it gave me an insight into a world I knew existed, but like Filler, I guess I wondered how it all worked for the participants. I wonder no more and that is totally due to Filler’s excellent work.
I would definitely recommend this read to anyone who has secretly yearned to escape the rat-race, if even for a short time and indulge in the pleasures and the exotic mystery of another race and culture. With Lies to Me, you can do that, without any attendant risk. A fantastic read and all credit to the author, Lynda Filler. I can’t wait to see what she comes up with next.
5 Stars.  Grant Leishman

The Big “O”

 

 

girl-woman-portrait-young-115015We tend to think that only men are willing to pay for sex but in the past decade more and more women have been looking for sexual experiences and have been willing to pay for them.

It is easier and more convenient than going to clubs or bars. Often the women do not want to be found out; they want it to be private and kept a secret.

Some career women with high disposable incomes are just too busy for relationships. Others who have had a break-up or painful divorce find it easier to have sex without strings attached.

The thought of trying to date again and meet somebody new is just too difficult for many – but they miss sex. They may want a sexual massage or just to be touched and be intimate with somebody.

One of my clients told me she answered an advertisement in the paper from “James” who offered erotic massages.

She was very lonely after a relationship break-up; she was tired, had gained weight and lost all her confidence.

She didn’t really know what to expect but was pleasantly surprised. James was a massage therapist who found some women were desperate to have an erotic massage leading to an orgasm, and in a place where they could talk and feel comfortable. He also offers more if a client asks for that.

My client saw him for months and ended up having sex with him. He was wonderful, she said. He gave her back her confidence and she gained more knowledge about her body.

 

repost thanks, Matty Silver, AU.

 

Lie to Me: An Exposé on Sex for Money
“is insanely captivating, entertaining and exciting. It’s a spellbinding story that explores the psychology of sex in a way that defies Coelho’s Eleven Minutes.” R. Dzemo 5 STARS READERS’ FAVORITE BOOK REVIEWS
From a “powerful and unforgettable” author and winner of the Best in Contemporary Fiction 2017 BTRC for Target in the Sun comes another powerful fictional story, Lie to Me, an exposé on sex for money.

Readers’ Favorite

 

5star-shiny-hr PRINT

I wrote this novel when I was in one of my ‘moods.’ It’s risque, very different for me, almost uncomfortable in its rawness and blatant sensuality. I truly felt like a voyeur…as if this story came through me–had been sent to me by my Muse–a story that must be told and yet I almost published it under a pen name. When I sent it to my editor I asked for an honest opinion. She said she loved it. It’s always the readers and reviewers who matter to me so I went ahead and released it this week.

This is my first Editorial Review. I’m insanely thrilled!

5 STAR

 

Lie to Me: An Exposé on Sex for Money by Lynda Filler is a spellbinding story that explores the psychology of sex in a way that defies Coelho’s Eleven Minutes. Layla Duncan is a magazine writer, a forty-something woman obsessed with digging into why men sell their bodies for money. Her quest to understand the trade leads her to Puerto Vallarta, a dream world for her, with the affordable cost of living and exciting things to do. But the moment she takes leave from work to have time for herself is when she meets the charismatic young Mexican guy, Mateo, a man whose charm quickly rubs off on Layla. They find themselves in each other’s arms before they are fully aware of what is going on. But what should have been a one night stand soon transforms into frequent hookups that make the professional, opinionated woman question many things she has grown up believing.

Lynda Filler’s novel is character-driven, emotionally intense, and packed with action, a story that explores male psychology regarding sex and a woman’s quest to redefine her identity in a world of twisted morals, where men are driven by the quest for orgasm. The emotional and psychological conflicts are well-explored in this novel and they are at the heart of the plot. The characters are exceptional, written with depth, and a lot of humanity is injected into them. It’s hard not to like the inquisitive and outgoing Layla, but her encounter with the laid-back, easy-going Mateo changes the allure. Lie to Me: An Exposé on Sex for Money is insanely captivating, entertaining and exciting. It’s the kind of book that entertains readers while forcing them to review their sense of reality. A must-read!

Reviewed by Romuald Dzemo for Readers’ Favorite   5 STARS

Layla & Omar NEW RELEASE TODAY

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Why couldn’t she be honest with herself? She knew, from the moment she’d left the house, where she was going. Two blocks over she found it. La Noche. The sign was a wolf howling into the moon. She felt like a wolf on the prowl.

She pushed through a group of young men sharing a joint at the front door. Trendy Guadalajara youths hunched around intimate café tables playing dominoes and looking cool.

She heard him before she saw him.

A smiling waiter found an empty table in the corner close to the band. “Cómo estás, señorita? What can I get you to drink?” Two boys at the table beside her, still wearing their shorts from the beach, looked her up and down with half-closed bloodshot eyes.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here without a boyfriend?”

“Why? You want to apply for the job?”

The one with dreadlocks tried a seductive focus in on Layla. But she was laughing, so he gave up.

“No, I got a job already. I work on the beach at Los Muertos doing the parasailing trips. My friend Manuel runs the boat. Have you ever gone parasailing? You know, where you get strapped into a harness and you sail up into the sky while the boat leads from the ocean.”

“No. I haven’t. I want to do it sometime, but I’m too nervous.”

“Well, I will take you up for free! But then, you have to pay me to bring you down!”

“Very funny.” Layla gave them a smile, a kind of sloppy, stupid grin. They weren’t the only ones under the influence. She should really order a coke.

“Hey, we’re thinking of going to the Zoo. Do you want to join us?”

“No, I don’t even know you guys.”

“Come on. You’ve been talking with us for at least five minutes. What’s your problem? If you like us, we will even pay you for sex!”

Layla laughed. Fun. She needed some fun in her life. At first, she thought they were joking. But they weren’t laughing. Did they think she was a hooker?

“What’s the going rate? And I suppose you want me to go with the both of you at the same time?”

“Hmm, what do you think, Manuel? It depends. What do you like to do? They call me Ricki, by the way, nice to meet you.” Ricki put his arm around Layla and gave her a kiss on the cheek. They were really quite charming, considering their proposition and the fact that they were drunk.

“Well, actually, it would have to be at another time. I’m waiting for my novio. He’s a Federales officer and should be here any minute.” The waiter chose that moment to bring over her wine.

Instantly, the arm came off Layla’s shoulder.

“So, I think we should go. Hasta Luego. Let’s go, Manuel. Nice meeting you.”

She glanced at Omar playing his guitar. He had long dark fingers, lovely hands. She had been too busy checking out his body to notice his hands before. His voice was strong and focused; totally lost in his music. He sang from his heart with a depth of passion she hadn’t expected.

He turned slightly, maybe sensing he was being watched. She wanted to touch his silky ebony curls. He looked into her eyes. She flushed, her lust taking over.

Why had she come? This was stupid. She was in need of serious self-talk. Don’t act like a groupie. No, that’s not working. What about his age? He’s beautiful and hot, age never stopped her before. Okay, so none of that’s helping. Here comes the low blow: think of what he does for a living.

He finished his set and placed his guitar against the stand. Layla took a sip of her wine while he made his way over to her table. He was dressed all in black. She pretended to be cool, but a gorgeous dark Mexican man dressed in an Armani black t-shirt and pants? She was fucked. He could tell just looking at her face.

He leaned down and kissed her slowly on the cheek, his hand lingering possessively on her neck. She reached up, twisting his hair around her fingers and moved her head until their lips met. Her nipples hardened instantly.

“Layla. I’ve been waiting for you.” He pulled a chair closer to Layla so their legs touched. She could feel his heat. She didn’t move away. She didn’t want to.

For once, Layla didn’t feel like talking. Sometimes, she just wanted to feel.

The waiter put a tequila shot on the table.

“You’re very quiet, Layla.” Omar downed it quickly. “I have an idea. My place is very near here. We can walk. I will play some of my music for you. Let’s go.”

 

They walked hand and hand down the almost deserted Old Vallarta streets. Just around the corner from the Fajita Republic, they stopped at a steep set of stairs. Omar pointed to the staircase.

“Do I have to carry you, Layla, or can you walk on your own?”

“Very funny. I only had a little pot and little booze. I’m fine. Just walk behind me and watch my back in case I stumble.” Layla started up the steps. Her jeans hugged her butt and she knew it.

“No problemo. I will watch your back anytime, señorita.”

At the top of the stairs, a doorway led into Omar’s apartment. He struggled with his key. Nervous.

Two guitars sat on his bed; sheet music on his pillow. A half-burned candle and a half-smoked joint lay side by side on his night table.

Layla picked up a chunk of pink quartz in the shape of a heart.

“I got that from the interior here in Mexico.”

A funky ceramic lamp covered with a blue, green, and purple cotton pareo cast a nice soft and romantic glow around the room. An oversized poster of Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones covered the wall above his bed. His studio apartment was neat and smelled of incense. Not what she had expected at all.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Omar turned the key in the lock and walked to the fridge in the kitchen area.

There was a chair by the table where more sheet music lay half completed. Other than that, the most comfortable spot looked to be the bed. Layla chose the bed, dropping her shoes as she made her way over to its edge.

“Don’t have a lot to drink, but vino blanco and some beer. Which would you prefer?” He smiled in acknowledgment of her choice of seating.

“Just water. I still need to make my way home.” She laughed self-consciously.

“Don’t worry. I will make sure you get home okay.” He handed her a glass of ice water.

“Sing something for me.” She smiled as she bunched the pillows together and leaned forward into them.

“Sure. Let me play the first song I ever wrote. It’s in Spanish. A love song, actually. I was sixteen when I wrote it.” Omar began to strum his guitar.

Even though it was in Spanish, Layla loved it. When he finished, she applauded and asked for a translation.

“Well, it kind of goes like this. It’s called ‘It’s Time to Let Me Go.’

 

Now that we are over, remember only the good part.

Remember how I loved you.

Forget how I hurt you.

Remember how we longed for each other when we were apart.

Remember how we ached to touch when we came together.

Forget the lies, the deceits.

Remember only the good parts.

Remember how we loved to make love, how we touched each other.

How we slept holding each other in our arms.

Forget the nights I didn’t come home.

Remember only the good parts.

Thank you for everything,

the love I never had before,

the love you gave me

and the love I could not return the way you needed

Remember only the good parts.

I will carry your love with me.

Forever in my heart.

 

“That’s beautiful, Omar.”

Layla stretched out across his bed.

Omar continued playing, soft and romantic melodies. Lost in the music, he closed his eyes and thought about the words. When he opened them, Layla had fallen asleep.

_______________________________________

New Release Introductory pricing: $2.99 Thanks!

 

 

Voyeur

 

pexels-photo-360419Excerpt:

 

Mateo

HE FOUND HIMSELF standing outside her door, again.

He wasn’t sure why. After all, sex was sex. She was a one-night stand. He just couldn’t stop thinking about her. He showered, got dressed to come downtown. Mateo had no idea how long he had been there, standing on the broken sidewalk, looking at the numbers on the doorway. He thought about walking away. The last thing he wanted in his life was a relationship. Complications, demands, caring about how someone felt, no. He listened to the guys he knew talking about their wives and girlfriends. Too many hassles. He had never had an adult relationship and now that he knew better, he wasn’t going to start!

He smiled, thinking about the wild sex they’d had the night before. She was really amazing. She’d laughed and at one point, he was certain she had cried. He’d pretended not to notice.

His friends would never believe it if they knew he was standing outside a girl’s apartment, hoping to run into her.

He was confused, time to leave. At that moment, her door opened. He heard her before he saw her. That voice, maybe that was it: musical, fun, and sexy all in one.

She was arm in arm with a great looking girl with the longest legs Mateo had ever seen. They hugged each other and the tall girl fell into a waiting cab. Mateo felt like a voyeur catching an intimate moment between two lovers. Maybe she was a lesbian. Naw, bi-sexual maybe. but she was definitely not a lesbian.

In that moment, she looked up and saw him waiting. He worried that she might be annoyed or think he was stalking her. Damn! What was he doing there anyways?