Opens with unsweetened whipped cream, and rubber pants. Maybe some termite dust to make it scratchy.
And later, an eighty-year-old raisin. Just one.
This story might be published as women’s fiction, but it’s obviously ghostwritten by a man.
I stopped reading midway through chapter five.
Azzaro Chrome is the first cologne a guy buys himself after an ugly divorce. He’s just started dating again; a little shy, maybe socially awkward, but he’s charismatic and hungry enough to be quite sexy.
Limes and neroli on top, raw silk and alimony payments underneath.
I wish the cardamom were stronger. Our guy would get more dates if he had a bit more spice.
This came out in 1996, too. I love Beck’s weird.
“An erotic bonfire of the senses—“ Publishers Weekly starred review
2017 Romance Writers of America RITA© Finalist in Erotic Romance
From the Desk of Donna Edith…
My services are unconventional. My clients come to me with needs and I match them to other clients with needs of their own…
Promising young architect Killian Fitzroy: Driven, clever, eager to prove himself. Starved for sex, though he’s come to me for professional assistance, not personal. Needs: Someone unique, creative and fast. An artist with a feminine perspective to breathe life into a house he’s built.
Aspiring scenic designer Vessa Ratham: Sensuous, spontaneous, but secretive. Recently returned to Vermont armed with an art degree that qualifies her for little more than waiting tables. Needs: An opportunity to shine.
Yes, Killian and Vessa will satisfy each other nicely—in more ways than one.
~~~~~~~~~
Available for purchase from your favorite e-book retailer:
“A summer rain shower had left the evening air thick with steam.
Lazy fireflies flicked between the trees edging the streets as he drove. He tuned the radio to the campus station with eclectic song sets, and wound through several neighborhoods, old and new.”
In chapter thirteen–Kitchen Sync–of THE DIRTY SECRET, Killian drives through Burlington to walk in on Vessa, baking. She’s listening to the same indie radio station he was just playing.
A friend asked what song they were both listening to, so of course I had to make a playlist of some cool musicians from Vermont.
“He felt drunk, post coital with the euphoria spiraling through his guts and his spine, all because a girl had made him cookies.”
THE DIRTY SECRET Vermont Playlist:
THE DIRTY SECRET is available at amazon.com and other fine ebook retailers.
The bottle is gorgeous. I want it to hold all my secrets and mist me with strength and sex and knowledge.
It doesn’t.
Instead, I am sprayed with slush and rock-salt from a road plow, and pelted with rotting strawberries, and wow, does Thierry Mugler ever blow loud and long on that truck horn.
Whew. Not for me.
All the love for this woman–and I adore this salty song.
This is a baby-sitting diaper change at a ridiculously rich family’s house.
A splash of lemon scented bleach that combusts to a cloud of talcum powder and finishes with high end floral musk potty-spray.
An enormous powder grenade, yet there was an ugly chemical plastic underneath. I’m a Lolita Lempicka fanatic and I was so disappointed I didn’t even keep it for the bottle.
I’m not so sure about this song either, but it gets stuck in my head a lot.
Triage at a burn unit.
Scorched rubber tires, plastic bandages, charred flesh. An hour later, it rests painfully with a smear of aloe, and then fades completely with an ominous gasp of sweet lilies.
It’s tragic–and yet still kind of gorgeous.
I’ve always loved this song.
kira a. gold 