Tagged: Kayla Lords

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Life Interrupted

Life gets interrupted with so many things, but we trudge on. Sickness is tricky because it drains you both physically and emotionally. I’m on day 15 and just getting my head above water. I celebrated this Friday alongside my thank you tulips, coffee, and blueberry pie. I threw caution to the wind and enjoyed myself this morning. Everybody gets sick. It was my turn. That’s a risk of travel, and sharing over the holidays. One I will always accept. This ailment is a doozie. But you know what? Life goes on for this writer even from my day bed. I wrote,...

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Dr. J.’s 2018 Year-in-Review

I started my 2018 year-i- review in Florida, wrote more in North Carolina, created the picture in Georgia and finished it at my desk at home. It’s an example of my life this year, all over the place. It’s important for me to look back at where I have come since December 29, 2015, when I took a deep breath and submitted my first story, “Tested” was a guest post on Wicked Wednesday. Never did I imagine all that would occur in my writing. This reflective journey validates my efforts.   REFLECT AND TAKE STOCK of the year events. I...

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Ragnar The Magnificent

Thanksgiving events with non-erotica writing friends always spark lively discussions. Sometimes, I think they create a plan for when we are together. One of my friends asked me to write a specific fantasy. I sat between her and her partner as she created otherworldly elements, for me to include. I hope I have done Ragnar the Magnificent and Cinnamon a solid turn! Enjoy your tale crafted just for you, my friends. You know who you are! “What’s with the shopping bag, Red?” Alexander peeked inside and pulled out a Viking helmet. “Props for our sex fantasy.” “Our sex fantasy?” I...

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The Cowboy

During the Sisters In Smut Convention, three erotica authors walked into a bar and spotted a cowboy, an angel, and a devil. Caught up in the reverie, three stories were born. This one is mine. Chuck had finished his smoky set, deep and full, much like the cigar scent in the historic Palace Salon. He balanced the guitar on his lap as he slipped the harmonica neck rack off his head. Words of life had flown off Chuck’s tongue in his trademark ebony sound as he strummed those chords and tapped his cowboy boots. But when he introduced his sensuous...