Cheyenne Blue's Blog, page 11

Smut Luton 7th March 2015

[image error]

The Hat factory, Luton will host the first smut event of 2015 sponsored by House of Erotica. Smut Events are fun, safe, inclusive days out when erotica & erotic romance readers and writers get together to socialize, exchange ideas and inspire one another.

The theme for Luton is Kinkification. We’ll be adding a little kink to your life with some great workshops, demonstrations and performances. Not to mention the book stall where you can pick up some sexy reading material and the erotic raffle where you’ll be able to win prizes from Bondara.co.uk , Segzi.co.uk and a special something from Smut UK.

Charlie J Forrest will be showing off some rope tricks and answering your questions on getting your lover all tied up, Zak Jane Keir will be talking about taking your hobbies and giving them a naughty spin for your erotic writing and sexy play and Victoria Blisse will be exploring all the senses and how they can heighten your sexual arousal on the page and in the bedroom.

We’ve got readings from Lucy Felthouse, Jennifer Denys, Charlotte Howard, Bella Settara, Charlie J Forrest, Meg Philip, Anna Sky, Cara Sutra and Victoria Blisse that are sure to tempt and tease.

Pick up your tickets at Smutluton.co.uk and join the facebook event to keep up with all the event news.

[image error]

Favorite Books – 2014

It’s time for a round up of the ten best books I’ve read this year.

As before, these are in no particular order. It’s hard enough picking ten books (out of the 94 that Goodreads says I read this year, plus a few that didn’t make my Goodreads shelves).

Dreams of Gods and Monsters by Laini Taylor

I was jonesing for this final book in in Taylor’s YA fantasy trilogy for a long, long time and this did not disappoint. Taylor’s writing shines bright, and she can carry and develop a scorching plot, as well as offering humor and great characterization. Mainly though, this is included because I could not put it down.

Close to Spider Man by Ivan E. Coyote

I read a few of Ivan’s books this year, and while I enjoyed them all, this one is head and shoulders over the others. Concise, sharp prose and these teeny tiny stories pack a heavy punch for their size.

Mullumbimby by Melissa Lucashenko

If I had to pick just one book for the year, chances are it would be this one. The love of the Aussie bush is what got me, Lucashenko feels it in her bones, that is obvious. The smell, the sounds, that love of the land. Add in some of the best dialog writing I’ve read in a long time, and a decent plot and it is enough to get me past the book’s minor flaws. Plus a depiction of white Australian and indigenous Australian relations and understanding that will make me think deeply for a long time to come.

The photo above is of Mullumbimby taken on our camping trip last month.

Picnic at Hanging Rock by Joan Lindsay

It’s the bush. It’s the landscape. It’s the love of place and of the connection of people with the natural world where they live. I didn’t notice it at the time, but this connection with the natural world has been a bit of a thread through my reading this year, and three of my top ten books are Australian with this beautiful sense of place. PaHR was written so many years ago, but it still stands as one of my favorite books.

The Secret Scripture by Sebastian Barry

A dark and secretive Irish book, set in one of my favourite regions of Ireland. It captures one of those hidden tales that are surfacing from days gone by in modern Ireland. “It’s not all leprechauns and fecking Guinness” as a dear friend likes to say. The twist at the end of the book was the perfect closure to this story.

Breath by Tim Winton

This was a re-read, but, once again, Winton’s prose, his storylines, his Australian language, and most of all, how he describes the ocean showcase one of Australia’s best modern writers.

I lied: Mullumbimby isn’t the best book I’ve read this year. Breath is. If you only read one of my reviews linked to this post, read this one.

Quiet by Susan Cain

My non-fiction pic of the year. Fascinating reading and understanding for introverts or those who want to understand this minority group better. I’ve recommended this to many, many people, and without exception, they too have gained so much from this book.

Every Day by David Levithan

David Levithan wrote possibly my favorite book read last year (Two Boys Kissing), and he’s back again. Every Day doesn’t quite equal TBK, but it comes close. Once again, I was sucked in by his easy style and visions of love unbounded by gender or sexuality.

The Shell Collectors by Anthony Doerr

A wonderful collection of subtle and strong short stories.

The Night Guest by Fiona McFarlane

I’m including this because although I gave it 4 stars, the theme and the storyline were so strong and so horrifying that it stays in the memory long after finishing. Months later, fragments of this story pop into my head at random times.

Great books all!

Call For Submissions: First (working title) – lesbian erotica

Another year, another anthology. Below is the Call for Submissions for the next lesbian erotica anthology I’ll be doing with Ladylit Publishing. Please feel free to share this post or pass on these details to any person or writing group or forum who may be interested.

I look forward to reading your stories!

First (working title)

Editor: Cheyenne Blue (www.cheyenneblue.com)

Publisher: Ladylit Publishing (www.ladylit.com)

Deadline: 24 April 2015

Payment: US$40.00 plus a copy of e-book and paperback

Rights: First worldwide digital rights and print rights.

Cheyenne Blue is seeking fictional stories of lesbian passion about first experiences. While I will be including stories of sexual firsts, including first lesbian encounter and first experience of a particular sexual act, I am especially after stories that look beyond this with imagination and flair. I would like to see stories where the sex happens as an integral part of another first, whether it’s the first day in a new job, the first time overseas, breaking the law, or skinny dipping. How about a first experience of sex in zero G in space, or a near death experience on the battleground of a past war? Show me the marvel, wonder, joy, and pride of new experience, the accomplishment, or even the fear or despair. I welcome stories of emotional firsts: the first time in love, the first time that hate translates to sex, the first time with a new partner after a break up.

Above all, I want strong, complete tales that are more than just a sex act. This is not an anthology of true confessions, so stories do not need to be written in first person. For examples of the type of stories and writing I’m looking for, check out my previous anthology, “Forbidden Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire”.

Please note the usual no-nos apply: no incest / underage sex / rape / necrophilia / bestiality / scat. No poetry please.

Preferred length: 2500 – 5000 words

Unpublished stories strongly preferred, although a couple of reprints might be used. Reprints must be solely owned by the author.

US English. Please submit a double-spaced Microsoft Word document, using a 12-point serif font, such as Georgia or Times New Roman. One inch margins. If using a pen name, include both real and pen name on the manuscript.

Send your story as a .doc or .rtf file attachment to Cheyenne Blue at firstantho@gmail.com. Please include “First” and your story title in the subject line.

In the body of the email please include your legal name, pseudonym, a short bio, and previous publication information if the story is a reprint.

Established authors welcomed, newcomers encouraged. I look forward to reading your work.

All submissions acknowledged within 3 days and acceptances notified by 1 June 2015.

About the editor: Cheyenne Blue is the editor of “Forbidden Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire” also from Ladylit, and has edited short stories through to novels. Her erotic fiction has been included in approximately 100 erotic anthologies since 2000. Under her own name she has written travel books and articles, and edited anthologies of local writing in Ireland.

Resolutions

I am seriously crap at resolutions, both making them and sticking to them, which is why I seldom do. Word counts, things I will do, things I will not do. Doesn’t matter. They all slide away into the distance, in a blur of sunshine and glitter.

But for 2015, I’m going to make a couple of vague and ephemeral ones. Maybe I’ll stick to them, maybe not.

Writing: This year will be my year of writing longer. Longer length works, that is, not necessarily more time. This is something that is hard for me. For years, I’ve loved the succinct and immediate nature of short stories, and even when I start out to write a longer piece, I write The End–or as I’ve always done, for reasons that are long forgotten–I write (((FIN)))–and find I’ve once again come in at under 5,000 words. But last year, stories that were supposed to be short turned long, so maybe the tide is changing in this department.

Another anthology. That one is already underway. Stay tuned for a Call For Submissions from me for another lesbian erotica anthology through Ladylit.

Short stories. Yes, still happening. My first love in writing. But I’m going to be pickier about what I write, and how I write, and where I send them. Indie publishing? Maybe. We’ll see.

Non-writing things? Time to get serious about fitness again. It’s hard with creaky joints and old injuries that don’t go away, but there must be something that I can sustain without reaching for the Voltaren and ice. With fitness, I hope to drop a few kilos that have appeared since I stopped running.

I will make more cheese, I will cook with love, I will spend more time enjoying the peace in the mornings with a coffee, rather than checking my email. I’ll finally find out what that damn bird is that sounds like a car alarm and goes on just as long. I’ll throw away my clothes when holes appear instead of keeping them for another six months. I’ll resist the temptation to dye my hair (why change the habit of a lifetime?). I’ll stop wasting time on the internet. I’ll learn to tumble turn in the pool. I’ll stick to the speed limit (more or less and most of the time).

Maybe I’ll keep one or two of these resolutions. Maybe not. But that’s the fun of going with the flow.

Peace, love and happiness for 2015.

D&S Duos Book One by Lisabet Sarai

If you read erotica, you’ve doubtless heard of Lisabet Sarai. Well known for her enticing, beautifully written tales, sensual and highly arousing love scenes, Lisabet writes some of the hottest BDSM stories around.

Her latest book, D&S Duos Book 1 combines two of her hottest BDSM short stories into one sizzling package. In “Body Electric”, a professor of engineering charms his female colleague into experiments on the erotic effects of electricity. In “Limits”, an established Master/slave couple push their relationship to next level of trust – blood sports. Also includes a searing excerpt from Lisabet’s BDSM erotic thriller Bangkok Noir.

Here’s an X-Rated Excerpt:

The thing in his hands looked like something from a 1940′s horror film. It had a handle, topped with a mushroom-shaped globe of glass that glowed with a malevolent purple light. Inside the glass, bright sparks danced. Their images flickered on the wall next to the bed.

Slowly, he brought the bulb closer to my bare flesh. The crackling noise grew more intense. He hovered above my nipple. “Don’t move,” he whispered.

All at once a rain of sparks shot from the tube to the taut node of flesh. I was being pierced with a thousand needles. I screamed, as much from surprise as from the pain. Ryan pulled the device away, as I tried to catch my breath.

“Colette?”

“Sorry, Doctor. I wasn’t expecting…” Before I could finish, his mouth was on my recently assaulting nipple, lapping and sucking, soaking my skin with his hot saliva. I felt every movement of his tongue deep in my cunt. When he brought the glowing globe close again, I thought I was ready. This time, though, the sparks were stronger, hotter, more painful. Electricity crawled over my breast, wherever he had left traces of wetness.

Before I could recover, he was sparking my other nipple. I jumped and squirmed. My cunt contracted with each contact. He stroked my stomach. “You’re all sweaty,” he said. The thing sputtered and popped. Miniature bolts of lightning showered down on my navel. “And your thighs are smeared with cunt-juice…” He swept the wand slowly over my body and a long trail of sparks stitched up the sensitive skin toward my gaping sex.

“I’ve always been fascinated by electricity,” he said in a conversational tone as the bulb approached my cunt. I tensed, waiting for the jolt I knew would come. Nothing could have prepared me for the raw sensations. Sparks danced on my clit and sputtered among my wet folds. I screamed again, overwhelmed, confused as to whether I was in terrible pain or close to climax.

My tormenter paused. “I didn’t invent this handy little device, but I’ve made a few modifications. For example, I can turn up the power, or increase the frequency. Or make the variations random. Would you like that?”

All I could do moan.

Purchase D&S Duos Book One at Amazon US or Amazon UK

Barnes and Noble, iTunes, etc. Coming soon.

LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse. Learn more at http://www.lisabetsarai.com.

Website: http://www.lisabetsarai.com

Blog: http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/83387.Lisabet_Sarai

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/lisabetsarai

Yahoo group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lisabets_list

Fantastic Reviews for “Forbidden Fruit”

It’s holiday season here in Oz, and it seems that half of the country is out on trails, camping, and eating and drinking their way around Oz. I’m one of them — enjoying some downtime and rural peace in the bush in New South Wales.

However, I’m interrupting my holiday to share two fantastic new reviews of “Forbidden Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire” that were posted recently. Share the love for the holidays and all that.

Over at Erotica For All, Lucy Felthouse posted this review, in which she says:

The imagination that’s gone into these stories is amazing – not one story is the same, or even similar. Each one has a fantastic take on the forbidden fruit theme…

Varied, hot, naughty and sexy, this is a fantastic lesbian erotica anthology that I’d definitely recommend to fans of the genre. Very enjoyable.

Over all Erotica Revealed, Kathleen Bradean reviewed “Forbidden Fruit” and had this to say about the book.

From page one, there is so much to love about this anthology. Rebecca Lynn Fullan’s “Our Woman” starts it off with an amazing near-future dystopian tale that Margaret Atwood would have been proud to pen. The depth of the world she evokes shows true craftsmanship…

This anthology was a delight to read. It has many well-written stories that will appeal to many different interests. The theme is good with imaginative takes on what it means by the talented contributors. I strongly recommend this.

“Forbidden Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire” is available direct from the publisher, Ladylit, usual distributors, and on Amazon.

Erotic Books for the holidays

My mother emailed me recently and part of her email mentioned the Amazon Gift Card that would be coming my way very soon. While I responded that all I really wanted for Christmas was love and good cheer, I have to say that books and wine come in a close second, as my mother well knows. In fact, going through my credit card statement this month, I see it’s all e-books, wine, and petrol. Luckily love and good cheer are free.

I’m not going to give a wine buying guide (except to say that if you love a rich red you really can’t go past an Australian Coonawarra Cab Sav) and petrol is petrol is gas, but books. Well, that’s different.

So, want some holiday reading suggestions, for you or for someone else? Try the below.

It’s the feel good season, so for feel good erotic romance that always leaves me with a smile, it’s hard to go past Sommer Marsden. Sparkling humor, real and likeable characters, and hot and emotive sex that takes your breath away. Plus if you fall in love with Sommer, you’ve a lot to chose from. Check her out. (There’s zombies too).

Sporty? Lucy Felthouse’s lesbian zinger Sweet Spot pushes all the right buttons.

Want unputdownable intense emotion and hot, hot sex (and lots of it)? Try Alison Tyler’s stories of submission, starting with Dark Secret Love: A Story of Submission.

Sex and food? Lisabet Sarai’s hot and extremely readable story, Her Secret Ingredient, is a winner. Or for short stories on this theme, All You Can Eat: a buffet of lesbian erotica and romance edited by Andi Marquette and R.G. Emmanuelle.

Sweet hot prose and romantic BDSM? Laila Blake’s Driftwood Deeds is for you.

And of course for stories of lesbian love and desire, my own collections Blue Woman Stories Volume 1 and Volume 2 are available. There’s five of my best erotic stories in each volume.

Want a longer lesbian read, chock full of convoluted relationships and drama? Then the entire Season 1 of Harper Bliss’ French Kissing will keep you occupied – and you can read the first part for free!

Rollicking, good humoured sex? Try Jeremy Edward’s brilliant novel The Pleasure Dial.

A different sort of erotica: Annabeth Leong’s Untouched features a main character who can’t stand being touched.

For some of the finest lesbian erotica around, try Sacchi Green’s single author collection “A Ride to Remember“.

And finally, of course, for stories of forbidden lesbian desire, check out my anthology “Forbidden Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire“.

And finally, finally, if you have any non-bookish people in your life (if such a person exists!), then check out my favorite Zazzle store, Annika Eklind.

Blue Woman Stories Volume 2 – Flannel and Fleece

In celebration of the release of the second collection of my lesbian erotica, I’m posting a snippet and a nugget of background about each of the five stories in the volume.

The final story, Flannel and Fleece is set in a small town in the Colorado Rockies (Yes, I did have a specific town in my head when I wrote it) tells the story of Jude and Jan, on the surface two very different women. The story is told by Jude–a liberal, trendy newcomer to the town–who falls for Jan, who’s been there for ever and is everything Jude is not.

A happy ending to Jude and Jan’s story, and a happy ending to my second collection of lesbian erotica.

.

Blue Woman Stories Volume 2 is out now from Ladylit, and on Amazon.

Or check out Blue Woman Stories Volume 1: collected lesbian erotica of Cheyenne Blue on Ladylit or Amazon.

I live in a mountain town in Colorado. It’s small, becoming trendy, and the people are a mix of those who have been here forever, and those who have recently arrived, attracted by the outdoor lifestyle.

The newcomers are organic food-eating, non-smoking, holistically inclined, white-water rafting, snowboarding fitness freaks with children called Phoebe and Jacob. They drive SUVs with Australian Shepherds in the back wearing bandanas. In summer they wear baggy cotton shorts and Tevas. In winter they wear fleece and Levis. I call them Fleeces.

Those who have been here forever are BBQ-eating, Republican voting, elk-hunting, Coors-drinking, walking heart attacks with children called Wayne and Jolene. They drive dual-cab pickups with gun racks in the back. In summer they wear flannel shirts and Wranglers. In winter they wear flannel shirts and Wranglers. I call them Flannels.

We are all such stereotypes.

*

People rallied around after Tom left. The women’s co-operative gave me a “hardship discount” and told me I was lucky I didn’t have kids to cramp my development as an independent woman. The Flannel neighbors brought around casseroles and said they were so sorry I hadn’t been blessed with children as they would have been a comfort and a reason to go on.

Really, both extremes were enough to make my eyes roll so fast it was a wonder they didn’t spin down the sidewalk and into the river.

I got a job as a care assistant in the medical center. I went hiking with the women’s group. I was invited (not for the first time) to join two different congregations, and (not for the last time) I politely refused. Because I was a Fleece, I drank in Colby’s where the happy hour margaritas were big and icy and they allowed dogs on the patio. The Flannel crowd drank happy hour pints of Coors Light in the dimness of The Doubleheader Saloon. Both crowds rubbed along amicably in The Mountain Pearl, where the long wooden bar jostled fleece and flannel elbows and the pressed tin ceilings were high enough that any differences evaporated into the air conditioning.

I got asked out now that I was an unattached woman. I turned down most of the offers, although I had a few dates with a river guide and a one-night stand with the guy who ran the computer store in town.

Tom’s words often ran through my head, and if I ever caught myself staring at a woman I’d divert my gaze. I wasn’t ready to go there. It wasn’t that I had a problem with lesbians; it was just that I didn’t see myself in that basket. After all, I’d been married. I slept with men. I thought that was how my wiring ran.

There was just one problem. Everywhere I went in town, I kept bumping into Jan.

Blue Woman Stories Volume 2 – Discovering Donnie

In celebration of the release of the second collection of my lesbian erotica, I’m posting a snippet and a nugget of background about each of the five stories in the volume.

The penultimate story, Discovering Donnie is the most offbeat story in the collection. Jodie, a legal secretary, questioning the point of her work after a promotion, goes into a bar she doesn’t normally frequent. There she meets Donnie–sturdy, muscular, and oh-so-appealing. They fall for each other, but Donnie takes it slowly, too slowly for the impatient Jodie.

The reader knows, of course, that Donnie is butch, genderqueer–there are many labels you can apply if you like labels–but does Jodie know? She’s a straight woman (those labels again), what will happen when she finally gets Donnie in her bed?

I’m not a person who likes labels. Those awkward getting-to-know-you moments in workplace team bonding exercise, where everyone gets up and says something like, “I’m Susan, I’m 35, I’m married to Fred and I have two adorable children” and then plonks down again in their seat, relieved to have got it out of the way. Hate them. What Susan is doing here is defining herself by her age, marital status and parenthood. It doesn’t tell you anything about Susan herself, or why Fred (hopefully) loves her. Susan’s applied labels to her life, labels that come with preconceptions.

Donnie and Jodie’s story isn’t about labels. Donnie never announces his gender or sexuality; Jodie never asks. They get to know each other, realize they like each other–more than like–and are attracted to each other. It goes from there.

.

Blue Woman Stories Volume 2 is out now from Ladylit, and on Amazon.

Or check out Blue Woman Stories Volume 1: collected lesbian erotica of Cheyenne Blue on Ladylit or Amazon.

She drained her wine and slid off the stool. Donnie threw a couple of notes on the counter, and gestured for the door. She noted he was shorter than she, but stocky and well put together, with a flat stomach underneath the plain white tee, and faded denims that clung lovingly to his muscular thighs. She thought briefly that she should let a friend know where she was going. She shouldn’t be going out at all on a weeknight when she had to be up early for work. But instead she said, “I’m Jodie.”

“Donnie,” he said, and opened the door for her, a gesture as old fashioned as it was endearing.

He took her to a backstreet Mexican café, a homey place that she’d sometimes passed but never been inside. Over enchiladas and green chili, she told him about her work and the promotion with longer hours.

Donnie scratched his chin. “What would happen if you simply refused?”

“I think I’d find myself out of a job.”

“Is the job worth it?”

“No,” she said, simply, and her breath caught as he covered her hand with his own, rough finger pads passing over the back in a swift caress.

“Then ‘no’ it should be.” He glanced at his watch–a simple chunky thing with a battered face. “I’m going to have to drop you home now, Jodie. I have to be at work early tomorrow.”

She knew she should be relieved he wasn’t expecting anything from her but a small–okay, a large–part of her was sorry. She’d been expecting the pass, the kisses, the fumbles, the whispered entreaty to let him come up “for coffee”.

“I have to work too,” she said.

He dropped her back at her apartment, reaching past her to release the door of the pick-up.

“I like you, Jodie,” he said. “Would you come out for dinner again sometime?”

“That would be nice,” she said, and then he kissed her.

It was a swift, short passing of his lips rather than a kiss that would lead to more, but her stomach somersaulted at the touch of his firm mouth, and she wanted to pull him to her and feel his agile tongue, find out how his skin felt underneath her hand.

“Tomorrow?”

She nodded.

“Come to the bar again after work.”

The next day at work, she barely registered her new boss. Her head was full of Donnie. How he’d looked, how he’d tasted in that short, sweet sip. The fresh, clean smell of him. The litigation partner looked at her appraisingly, but she was oblivious. She was counting down the hours and minutes to five thirty.

Just after six, she walked into the bar again. She’d considered going home to change into jeans, but had reasoned that Donnie had seen her in work clothes yesterday, and besides, going home would take the best part of an hour. She couldn’t wait that long to see him.

He was seated at the bar, a Hefeweizen and two white wines lined up in front of him. Jodie’s eyes lingered on him, tracing his body with her eyes, seeing how his strong hands caressed the frosted glass of his pint. How would they feel tracing her body?

She slid onto the stool next to him. Immediately his hand cupped the back of her head, pulling her to him for a kiss.

Jodie’s nights fell into a pattern. They met at the bar for happy hour. Two wines, Buffalo wings for appetizers, and then they ate at small back street cafés. Mexican, Thai, Japanese, a family diner and back to the little Mexican café that Jodie now thought of as “their place”. And every night, a kiss and he would leave her on her doorstep. No more, no less.

Blue Woman Stories Volume 2 – Glory B.

In celebration of the release of the second collection of my lesbian erotica, I’m posting a snippet and a nugget of background about each of the five stories in the volume.

The middle story, Glory B. spans a lifetime in 1,700 words. An imaginary friend is a comfort for many children, but what if she is real? What if she is, quite simply, the love of your life? The protagonist knows she’s being fanciful, but she can’t stop looking for Glory B. in the corners of her life, and in the women she forms relationships with.

This story sprang into my head when I was having breakfast in a diner in Baltimore and the waitress’ name tag read Glory B. I was just back from Ireland, where Catholicism permeates daily life to the point where you absorb the terminology and flavor of it through everyday interactions. The Glory Be is a short prayer that brackets the longer prayers of the rosary. I’m not religious, but the play on words and the timbre of the prayer seemed to sum up the story I wanted to tell: “Glory be … As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end …”

Glory B. is possibly my favorite story in this collection. It appeals to my romantic, optimistic side. Love will arrive. And love does. It appeals to my loyal side as well – the narrator stays true to the Glory B. in her head, even as she lives a successful life. I also loved the challenge of trying to compress a life into few words and trying to make it meaningful and not a dry list of facts. I hope I succeeded in this, but you can be the judge by reading Glory B for yourself.

Blue Woman Stories Volume 2 is out now from Ladylit, and on Amazon.

Or check out Blue Woman Stories Volume 1: collected lesbian erotica of Cheyenne Blue on Ladylit or Amazon.

When I was young I had an imaginary friend and her name was Glory B.

“Gloria?” said my mother, indulgently. “That’s a pretty name.”

“No. Her name is Glory Brown, but she calls herself Glory B. She’s prettier than I am, and her hair is in cornrows, but they’re too tight and her head aches. She lives where it’s hot, and sometimes she can’t sleep at night because she hurts, and because of the yelling, and that’s when she comes to see me. She has a gap in her front teeth, where they pulled a tooth out when it ached, and her skin is black. She’s blacker than the space under my bed, and she tastes of guava juice.”

“Oh,” said my mother, faintly. “Oh.”

***

Glory B. was there during my teen years, and she told me it didn’t matter that I could run faster than the boys, that it was a good thing to do, that she wished she could.

“I think I’m different,” I whispered to her at night, into the pillow.

“I know,” came back the answer, weaving through the fantasies in my head. “So am I.”

“I can’t get a prom date,” I told her, when I was seventeen. “The boys think I’m strange, and I don’t like them. And no girl will go with me.”

“Sssssh,” she whispered soothingly. “It will be all right in the end.”

If I opened my eyes, I could sometimes see her outline on my bed. Lying on her stomach, her round rump enticing, and her hair still in the cornrows. She would always fade, but like Alice’s Cheshire cat, her grin would be the last to leave.

When my mother pressured her oldest friend so that her son took me to the Prom, Glory B. told me to relax and enjoy the night. “I’ll be here when you come home,” she said. “You can tell me all about it.”

So she was the one who heard how Danny covered my mouth with his meaty paw, and forced my compliance with his solid thighs. Glory B. soothed my tears and gently wiped me down.

“It hurts,” I whimpered.

“I know,” she soothed, and then she kissed me.