My blog has moved.

You can find me at my new home,, and at my new blog,

My mailing list signup is now available at DOT CLUB.

And selected (NSFW) free reads are available on my Vocal profile.

Or, if you like, you can keep reading this site for shareworthy stuff I’ve stumbled upon.


Short and smart read.

By Hugh Cartwright

I despise the red-light district, but I’ve no choice. I must visit Charlene.

Her window is her calling-card. Scarlet underwear slung along a curtain rail, draped against the glass. Panties heavy with trinkets and tokens left by grateful clients, mementos safety-pinned up as they depart.

A woman ushers me into the blood-red room.

Charlene’s “busy right now,” so I must wait. Within moments my nerves get the better of me, and I turn to leave.

But first, I add my own contribution.

I safety-pin my husband’s wedding ring to her D-cup bra.

I’m certain he’ll see it by tomorrow.

Hugh lives in the Pacific Northwest, where he writes to provide relief from his hopeless goal of growing Canadian oranges.

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Know Your Place

Loved this drabble 😱 So eloquently put!


By fayealexandrarose

Dear Mr God’s gift to women,
Aphrodite would turn in her grave
if she knew your hands had
touched the purest of hearts,

Mother Nature would spit the ocean
back at your facetious face
if she knew your lips had touched
those you are unworthy of,

I now understand why Eve bit the apple
if Adams were destined to become
men like you, you are not a God
you are merely a serpent in disguise.

“I write to watch the pain roll out with the ink, onto the page and out of my mind.” – the writer

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You’ve Got No Male

A short read by Charisse Nichole.

Charisse Nicolle

I just came across a writing piece I started working on a few years ago, thought I’d share! Love to hear your thoughts..?

Pink marshmallows dipped in hot chocolate would never taste the same again.

I replaced the teaspoon slowly, deliberately, on the edge of the saucer, careful not to allow the impact of his words to show. For a handful of painful heartbeats, I stared at where a few drops of the rich Belgian couverture he had paid for tumbled over the edge of the cup lip, symbolic of the way a few words falling from his Iips had sent me tumbling over my own edge. I swallowed the remnants of both the marshmallow and my pride before raising a steady gaze to meet his anxious one.

I’d been in love with my best friend Darcy for the last eight months now. I still remember the exact time and…

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