Cheyenne Blue's Blog, page 4
November 7, 2017
Blue Woman Stories – now on KU
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I’m happy to announce that the first collection of my short erotica, Blue Woman Stories Volume 1, is now available on Kindle Unlimited. Or purchase for pocket change $0.99. It contains five of my favourite (and best) short erotic lesbian stories.
Blurb
A long-time couple weave a fantasy of seducing a straight woman, old friends become lovers in the French countryside, and a cop sent to investigate a suspected dope grower finds more than she expects in a tropical garden. Cheyenne Blue’s lesbian erotica has been a staple of many anthologies since 2000. Blue Woman Stories Volume 1 collects together for the first time five of her best-loved stories.
Purchase or borrow through KU here:
October 7, 2017
Charity Sunday: Australian Marriage Equality
[image error]It’s Charity Sunday again, started by the ever-awesome Lisabet Sarai.
This is the second time I’ve joined Lisabet in this. Why not? It’s a bloody awesome idea and it doesn’t cost YOU anything to participate. Here’s how it works. I post an excerpt from one of my novels. Leave a comment on this post on Sunday, 8 October 2017. I will donate $1 to Australian Marriage Equality for every comment received on that day. You don’t have to say much at all–just say “Hi” if you want. You don’t even have to read my excerpt if you don’t want to (although I hope you will) and you can go straight to the comments. As I’m in Australia, our Sunday is before most of the world’s, so I’ll leave it open until 11.59pm Pacific time in the US. That’s all you have to do. You don’t have to donate; I’ll do that. Neither will I sign you up for anything, spam you or do anything except be very happy that your comment means $1 more to support marriage equality in Australia.
I’m sure most people know that Australia is one of the only countries in the western world that still does not have marriage equality. How bloody awful is that? We’re in the middle of a ridiculous postal survey at the moment, the results of which are non-binding, but IF the majority of Aussies vote YES, then there will be a free vote in parliament which hopefully will get it passed. Don’t get me started on the ridiculousness of the whole shebang. The main thing here is Australian Marriage Equality needs funds to counter the hate and wrongful propaganda from the no campaign. So it’s important.
I have a cap on my donation (just so that I can eat next month if I get hundreds of comments!) but I’d be delighted if I reached it. Please, please, please, comment on my post. It’s all you have to do.
If you want to spread the love further, please also check out the other Charity Sunday post from Lisabet Sarai. Lisabet is supporting American Friends Service and her link will go live at 3am EDT.
If you would like to read more of Party Wall the buy links are at the bottom of this post.
Excerpt
The sun reflected off the window, obscuring the view of the shop inside. Still, Freya was hyperaware of the products on display. She shuffled her feet and coughed, but didn’t move towards the door. In the window, she caught the reflection of Carly’s easy smile, as if she frequented sex toy stores all the time. Freya moved to one side. Now the sun slanted low, slicing through the glass. A mannequin wearing red-and-black, skimpy, lace underwear caught her attention.
“Tasteless,” she muttered.
Carly glanced sideways at her. “I’ve seen worse in the chain stores in Mackay. I think it’s sexy. I’d wear it—if I were ten years younger and ten kilos lighter.”
Freya sniffed. “There is so much inherently wrong with that statement. What you wear shouldn’t be determined by an outside opinion of what looks good. Your self-worth isn’t dependent on another’s approval—”
“Okay, okay.” Carly’s interruption was tempered with a smile. “I didn’t mean it quite like that.” She pointed to a discreet sign in the corner of the window. “‘A woman’s pleasure is in her own hands.’ Clever.”
“Why don’t they just show a purple dildo and be done with it.” Freya took a tiny step towards the shop next door. Her shop.
Carly shrugged. “No doubt there’s some law against it. When did you last see more than lingerie and posters in a sex shop window?”
“I’m not in the habit of looking.” Freya’s voice was riveted steel. “I’m surprised you are.”
“I don’t often.” Carly grabbed Freya’s hand and pulled her back towards the window. “After all, we don’t get much chance living here, do we? The last sex shop I saw was in Brisbane when Andy and I went down for the rugby. But that wasn’t like this—it appeared to cater mostly to men. This one seems different.”
In Freya’s jaundiced opinion, that was like calling a spade a manual digging implement. “It’s all the same. Catering to the baser instincts of men. Objectifying women. Turning them into sex objects.”
Carly turned to face her, and Freya caught the little wrinkle between her eyes. Good. Maybe she was getting through to her friend. This shop was everything she found repellent. Its silver-and-purple paintwork shone garishly in the sun. The wide window showed only the paltry display and a backdrop of black-and-silver cloth blocking the rest of the shop from view. Probably a good thing. Who knew what was behind those folds and artfully arranged drapes? The mannequin was on the left, and the sign Carly had noticed was propped up on the other side. The middle was empty, a blank canvas for… Freya shuddered. What would end up there? She already knew she wouldn’t like it.
Her gaze moved right, to her own shop window. A Woman’s Spirit. She narrowed her eyes and saliva filled her mouth. Even the name of the next-door shop, A Woman’s Pleasure, was offensive, being so similar to her own. Her shop front was tasteful, painted the silver-green of gum leaves. Nothing stopped a passer-by seeing inside; indeed, the wide window drew the gaze inwards to the welcoming warmth of racks of books and tarot cards, to the stands of bright clothes, the shelves of crystals and pottery.
“It’s great that there’s a tenant.” Carly rested her forehead on the glass and shaded her eyes, trying to peer inside. “It’s been a couple of months since Diane moved to the coast. It can’t have been good for your business, having a vacant shop next door.”
Freya snorted. “Better a vacant space than this. Diane’s organic produce shop and mine complemented each other—we got a lot of cross trade. I doubt there’ll be any now.”
“You might be surprised.”
“Unlikely. But it doesn’t matter. This shop won’t be here long. I’m surprised the council approved the permit.” Freya’s gaze shifted to the window, where the permit was taped to the glass. “Maybe I should check that they actually did.”
Carly huffed a breath. “I think you’ll be wasting your time. There’s no way the owner could get away with it in a town as small as Grasstree Flat.”
Freya shrugged. “Maybe that’s what they’re relying on.”
“Honestly, Freya? Drop it. I’m sure it’s fine. Try and give the owner the benefit of the doubt. They’re new in town, it’s a new business. Surely it’s better for you and your shop if they make a success of it.” Amused exasperation tinged Carly’s voice.
In front of the two women, the black-and-silver backdrop twitched, saving Freya from answering. A hand appeared through the gap and placed down some stands, the sort that might support signage or photographs. The hand was tawny, with short, manicured nails. Two silver rings glinted on the fingers.
Carly nudged Freya. “See? A woman owns it.”
“I gathered that already.” Freya pointed to the sign that was already nagging in her head, an irritant not to be forgotten, like a mozzie bite on a hot summer day. “I doubt a man would run a store called ‘A Woman’s Pleasure’.”
“Not necessarily.”
The hand adjusted the position of the stands. A forearm extended through the curtain, then withdrew.
“I’m going to ring the council.”
“And say what?” Carly said in a neutral tone. “That you think the new owner is breaking some law you’re not aware of? The window is tasteful, Frey. I quite like it.”
“It’s only remotely all right now because it’s mostly empty. You wait, that mannequin will only be the start.” Her fingers twitched with the urge to rant some more, but she controlled it. Deep breaths. A slow inhale, hold that breath, and then let the tension of the moment expel in the whoosh of air through her mouth. She would not let this shop get to her.
On Freya’s third exhale, the curtain dividing the window from the rest of the shop was pulled to one side. The owner of the hand came into view. The lighting behind her was dim, only enough to show a smooth-skinned arm, a full shoulder, and the curve of neck and breast. The woman wore a yellow singlet, and a bird’s wing of smooth dark hair hung down, obscuring her face. In the dimly lit shop, she was bronze and sunshine, her top standing out brightly against her dark skin, a beacon in the shadows.
The woman placed a handful of lingerie in the window. She piled it in a bunch, with no attempt at display. A froth of lace and bright colours mixed with the darker sheen of satin or silk, something smooth and luxurious. She reached behind her and brought out another sign, which she propped on the stand she’d placed earlier: Sensuous Reading for Women.
“Dirty books. Porn.” Freya grasped Carly’s arm as a prelude to urging her away, into the safety of her shop.
The woman in the window straightened and saw them looking. She smiled hugely, her grin spontaneous and infectious under high cheekbones. Carly grinned in response, and Freya’s own lips twitched before she schooled her features back to disapproval. The woman gestured to them with a smile that obviously meant “come inside”.
You can purchase Party Wall from these places:
October 4, 2017
Party Wall goes wide
[image error]Hello again, I’m just dropping past to say that Party Wall is now available from all distributors as well as direct from Ylva Publishing.
You can now purchase Party Wall from these places:
September 29, 2017
A sneak peak around the party wall
My new novel Party Wall is already available from Ylva Publishing, and in only a few days it will go wild, wide and free everywhere else. Party Wall is my take on Ylva’s “Window Shopping” series. A bunch of authors were given the same opening paragraph. Where we took it was entirely up to us. It took me to the small Australian town of Grasstree Flat where two outwardly different women, Freya and Lily, run two very different shops side by side, separated only by the thin party wall. While Lily welcomes Freya’s new-age store next to her own sex shop, Freya has other ideas. Here’s an excerpt from chapter 1 as a little tease.
The sun reflected off the window, obscuring the view of the shop inside. Still, Freya was hyperaware of the products on display. She shuffled her feet and coughed, but didn’t move towards the door. In the window, she caught the reflection of Carly’s easy smile, as if she frequented sex toy stores all the time. Freya moved to one side. Now the sun slanted low, slicing through the glass. A mannequin wearing red-and-black, skimpy, lace underwear caught her attention.
“Tasteless,” she muttered.
Carly glanced sideways at her. “I’ve seen worse in the chain stores in Mackay. I think it’s sexy. I’d wear it—if I were ten years younger and ten kilos lighter.”
Freya sniffed. “There is so much inherently wrong with that statement. What you wear shouldn’t be determined by an outside opinion of what looks good. Your self-worth isn’t dependent on another’s approval—”
“Okay, okay.” Carly’s interruption was tempered with a smile. “I didn’t mean it quite like that.” She pointed to a discreet sign in the corner of the window. “‘A woman’s pleasure is in her own hands.’ Clever.”
“Why don’t they just show a purple dildo and be done with it.” Freya took a tiny step towards the shop next door. Her shop.
Carly shrugged. “No doubt there’s some law against it. When did you last see more than lingerie and posters in a sex shop window?”
“I’m not in the habit of looking.” Freya’s voice was riveted steel. “I’m surprised you are.”
“I don’t often.” Carly grabbed Freya’s hand and pulled her back towards the window. “After all, we don’t get much chance living here, do we? The last sex shop I saw was in Brisbane when Andy and I went down for the rugby. But that wasn’t like this—it appeared to cater mostly to men. This one seems different.”
In Freya’s jaundiced opinion, that was like calling a spade a manual digging implement. “It’s all the same. Catering to the baser instincts of men. Objectifying women. Turning them into sex objects.”
Carly turned to face her, and Freya caught the little wrinkle between her eyes. Good. Maybe she was getting through to her friend. This shop was everything she found repellent. Its silver-and-purple paintwork shone garishly in the sun. The wide window showed only the paltry display and a backdrop of black-and-silver cloth blocking the rest of the shop from view. Probably a good thing. Who knew what was behind those folds and artfully arranged drapes? The mannequin was on the left, and the sign Carly had noticed was propped up on the other side. The middle was empty, a blank canvas for… Freya shuddered. What would end up there? She already knew she wouldn’t like it.
Her gaze moved right, to her own shop window. A Woman’s Spirit. She narrowed her eyes and saliva filled her mouth. Even the name of the next-door shop, A Woman’s Pleasure, was offensive, being so similar to her own. Her shop front was tasteful, painted the silver-green of gum leaves. Nothing stopped a passer-by seeing inside; indeed, the wide window drew the gaze inwards to the welcoming warmth of racks of books and tarot cards, to the stands of bright clothes, the shelves of crystals and pottery.
“It’s great that there’s a tenant.” Carly rested her forehead on the glass and shaded her eyes, trying to peer inside. “It’s been a couple of months since Diane moved to the coast. It can’t have been good for your business, having a vacant shop next door.”
Freya snorted. “Better a vacant space than this. Diane’s organic produce shop and mine complemented each other—we got a lot of cross trade. I doubt there’ll be any now.”
“You might be surprised.”
“Unlikely. But it doesn’t matter. This shop won’t be here long. I’m surprised the council approved the permit.” Freya’s gaze shifted to the window, where the permit was taped to the glass. “Maybe I should check that they actually did.”
Carly huffed a breath. “I think you’ll be wasting your time. There’s no way the owner could get away with it in a town as small as Grasstree Flat.”
Freya shrugged. “Maybe that’s what they’re relying on.”
“Honestly, Freya? Drop it. I’m sure it’s fine. Try and give the owner the benefit of the doubt. They’re new in town, it’s a new business. Surely it’s better for you and your shop if they make a success of it.” Amused exasperation tinged Carly’s voice.
In front of the two women, the black-and-silver backdrop twitched, saving Freya from answering. A hand appeared through the gap and placed down some stands, the sort that might support signage or photographs. The hand was tawny, with short, manicured nails. Two silver rings glinted on the fingers.
Carly nudged Freya. “See? A woman owns it.”
“I gathered that already.” Freya pointed to the sign that was already nagging in her head, an irritant not to be forgotten, like a mozzie bite on a hot summer day. “I doubt a man would run a store called ‘A Woman’s Pleasure’.”
“Not necessarily.”
The hand adjusted the position of the stands. A forearm extended through the curtain, then withdrew.
“I’m going to ring the council.”
“And say what?” Carly said in a neutral tone. “That you think the new owner is breaking some law you’re not aware of? The window is tasteful, Frey. I quite like it.”
“It’s only remotely all right now because it’s mostly empty. You wait, that mannequin will only be the start.” Her fingers twitched with the urge to rant some more, but she controlled it. Deep breaths. A slow inhale, hold that breath, and then let the tension of the moment expel in the whoosh of air through her mouth. She would not let this shop get to her.
On Freya’s third exhale, the curtain dividing the window from the rest of the shop was pulled to one side. The owner of the hand came into view. The lighting behind her was dim, only enough to show a smooth-skinned arm, a full shoulder, and the curve of neck and breast. The woman wore a yellow singlet, and a bird’s wing of smooth dark hair hung down, obscuring her face. In the dimly lit shop, she was bronze and sunshine, her top standing out brightly against her dark skin, a beacon in the shadows.
The woman placed a handful of lingerie in the window. She piled it in a bunch, with no attempt at display. A froth of lace and bright colours mixed with the darker sheen of satin or silk, something smooth and luxurious. She reached behind her and brought out another sign, which she propped on the stand she’d placed earlier: Sensuous Reading for Women.
“Dirty books. Porn.” Freya grasped Carly’s arm as a prelude to urging her away, into the safety of her shop.
The woman in the window straightened and saw them looking. She smiled hugely, her grin spontaneous and infectious under high cheekbones. Carly grinned in response, and Freya’s own lips twitched before she schooled her features back to disapproval. The woman gestured to them with a smile that obviously meant “come inside”.
September 19, 2017
Party Wall is here!
I’m very happy to announce that my new lesbian romance Party Wall is released today from Ylva Publishing. Today, Lily and Freya, their friends Carly and Remy and Dorcas the cat are out in the world. In this opposites attract romance, Freya and Lily own two very different shops on either side of the party wall. Freya is convinced that Lily’s sex shop A Woman’s Pleasure will clash with her new-age shop A Woman’s Spirit. What could be more different?
I learnt a lot writing Party Wall. I learnt a lot about yoga, including that I absolutely cannot balance in tree position for more than ten seconds. And it’s possible to bake a cake with no eggs, milk or flour. It’s even delicious. Most of all though, I got to know my characters and for a few months lived with them as I told their story.
I hope you enjoy Party Wall. Right now, it’s available direct from Ylva. On 4 October, it will be available from the Amazons, Smashwords and other places where good books are sold.
Blurb
From the moment Freya looks in the window of the brash, new sex shop in Grasstree Flat she knows it will be nothing but trouble. For a start, it will clash with her own New Age store right next door. And she’s right. Outgoing newcomer, Lily, begins to intrude on Freya’s well-ordered life. Freya’s friends, lifestyle, and even her cat are all affected by Lily’s magic touch. Even Freya’s yoga classes rub shoulders with Lily’s sexual-expression workshops. Lily stands for everything Freya has lost in life: playfulness, spontaneity, and delight in the physical. And sex. But does Lily have more in common with Freya than the wall that divides them?
A lesbian romance about crossing the lines that hold us back.
September 15, 2017
Goodreads Giveaway: Party Wall
[image error]Party Wall releases in less than a week. Next Wednesday for most of the world, Thursday if you’re in Australia or New Zealand. In the meantime, you can enter to win one of three signed paperback copies over at Goodreads by entering the Giveaway. I’m selling my soul to Australia Post and so there’s lots of countries on the list.
July 28, 2017
This week only: Forbidden Fruit for 99c
[image error]This week’s My LesFic deal includes my anthology, Forbidden Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire. There’s some amazing writers and stories in this: names you’ll know such as Emily L Byrne, Harper Bliss, Sacchi Green, Jean Roberta, Lisabet Sarai, and Erzabet Bishop, plus some supremely talented newcomers. Check out Rebecca Lynne Fullan’s surreal story “Our Woman” or Ava-Ann Holland’s super hot tale of a chance encounter in Rome to see what I mean.
For this week only, you can purchase this anthology for only $0.99 via My Lesfic.
Also in this week’s My Lesfic deals is a fantastic story by T. B. Markinson. The Chosen One is a real page-turner. I’m also looking forward to reading a new-to-me author from the third book on offer this week. But By Degrees by Kit Eyre looks intriguing and I intend checking that out.
Check out this week’s deals on Facebook or MyLesfic.
July 27, 2017
Cover Reveal: Party Wall
I’m delighted to announce that my fourth novel, Party Wall, will be published by Ylva Publishing in October 2017. What a pretty cover! This is part of Ylva’s Window Shopping series–standalone novels with a common theme.
Here's the blurb:
From the moment Freya looks in the window of the brash, new sex shop in Grasstree Flat she knows it will be nothing but trouble. For a start, it will clash with her own New Age store right next door. And she’s right. Outgoing newcomer, Lily, begins to intrude on Freya’s well-ordered life. Freya’s friends, lifestyle, and even her cat are all affected by Lily’s magic touch. Even Freya’s yoga classes rub shoulders with Lily’s sexual-expression workshops. Lily stands for everything Freya has lost in life: playfulness, spontaneity, and delight in the physical. And sex. But does Lily have more in common with Freya than the wall that divides them?
A lesbian romance about crossing the lines that hold us back.
July 7, 2017
Charity Sunday: The Royal Flying Doctor Service of Australia
[image error]A few weeks ago, the very wonderful Lisabet Sarai posted an excerpt of one of her books on her blog. For every comment she received within the first twenty-four hours, she donated $1 to her nominated charity, Spinal Muscular Atrophy. It’s a bloody marvellous idea.
Lisabet is doing it again and this time other people are joining in. Including me. Here’s how it works. Leave a comment on this post on Sunday, 9 July 2017. I will donate $1 to the Royal Flying Doctor Service of Australia for every comment received on that day. You don’t have to say much at all–just say “Hi” if you want. As I’m in Australia, our Sunday is before most of the world’s, so I’ll leave it open until 11.59pm Pacific time in the US. That’s all you have to do. You don’t have to donate; I’ll do that.
I have a cap on my donation (just so that I can eat next month if I get hundreds of comments!) but I’d be delighted if I reached it.
If you’re an Aussie, chances are you know of the Royal Flying Doctor Service. If you’re from somewhere else, maybe you haven’t heard of it. The Flying Doctor brings medicine, clinics, and emergency treatment to some of the remotest areas in Australia. The outback regions and the Gulf, where population is sparse, and medical treatment can be many hours away. There are bases all over Oz, and the doctors, nurses and paramedics who work for the Flying Doctor bring medical care to cattle stations, indigenous communities, tiny settlements, and the blank areas on the map in between. The planes are s[image error]mall, able to land on the roughest of makeshift airstrips. They transport people to hospital, deliver babies, stitch people up. More mundanely, but just as importantly, the Flying Doctor does telephone, video and radio consultations for people with no way to see a GP or specialist.
I love to travel remotely in Australia. I’ve been lucky and never needed the Flying Doctor, but it’s still a charity close to my heart.
The excerpt that accompanies this post is from my novel set in outback Queensland, Not-So-Straight Sue. It’s the obvious excerpt to chose, as one of the main characters, Moni, is a doctor working for the Flying Doctor in outback Queensland. Moni works at the base in Mount Isa (a real place, a real base). In this excerpt, she’s talking about what drew her to work for the Flying Doctor.
So, I hope you read and enjoy the excerpt, but importantly, I hope you leave a comment on this post so that the Flying Doctor gets a dollar. Please also check out Lisabet Sarai’s charity post this month. Comment there and Lisabet will donate $1 to her chosen charity.
Here’s the excerpt:
Moni was closer since she’d kissed me on the cheek, and her hand still rested on my leg. Deliberately I relaxed my thigh muscles, which was hard as her closeness had me wound as tense as I used to be before a court appearance.
“Can I…” Her breath feathered over my cheek, and I held my breath. “Can I see the rest of your house?”
I breathed again. “Sure. Not that there’s much to see.” I leapt off the bed before I could make a fool of myself and kiss her.
She followed me around as I showed her the office, the third bedroom, and the living areas. Even the under house laundry and Mrs T’s veggie patch, with its wilting crop of tomatoes, basil, and squash which was hard to see in the gathering darkness. It was definitely dinner time. Ripper obviously agreed; he was under my feet every time I turned around.
I collected a bottle of Ken’s better wine from its hiding place in the laundry, and led the way back into the house. Mrs T had indeed left dinner—some sort of rice and chicken dish that only needed microwaving. There was plenty for two. I opened the red wine to breathe and tipped the remainder of last night’s bottle into two glasses. As the quickest way to my little dog’s heart was through his cavernous stomach, Moni fed Ripper while I set the table outside.
Over dinner, Moni talked about her new job. Her face glowed in the dim light as she talked about her days working with Royal Flying Doctor Service. All the way through Mrs T’s chicken and rice, and through the bottle of wine, she told me about vaccinating children, delivering a premature baby, and stitching up a jackaroo’s gashed leg. She talked about flying low over the outback in a small plane, navigating by the line of the road and the river course, of sitting beside the pilot as they flew towards the setting sun, of bumpy landings on station airstrips, and of the relief of seeing the Isa come into view as she and the nurse reassured a critically ill patient, knowing there would be an ambulance waiting for them at the airstrip, and a modern hospital a few minutes’ drive away.
The enthusiasm shone in her eyes and animated her voice. In a community like Mungabilly Creek, with no doctor in town, just a couple of volunteer First Responders, the Flying Doctor was a lifeline. The Royal had a collection tin on the counter, and it wasn’t even nailed down. No one would dream of pinching the Flying Doctor’s money.
“You know,” Moni stared into her empty glass, and if it weren’t for the serious tone of her voice, I would have gone for another bottle of wine. “When I was little, I didn’t want to be a ballerina or a showjumper, like the other girls. I wanted to be a nurse. Not because that’s what I thought girls did, but because I thought nurses helped more people than doctors. To me, a doctor was someone who swept past in a white coat, while the nurse was the person who stayed and held your hand, and gave you candy after a needle. A nurse seemed like the more important job. As I got older, I realised that, while nurses are some of the most important people in the world, I could have more freedom as a doctor. I wanted to help people, really help them. At first, I wanted to work in a free clinic, somewhere that never turned anyone away because they couldn’t pay.”
I nodded. To Australians, free healthcare was a given, but some countries weren’t so lucky.
“But those places are in cities. I wanted to live somewhere rural. So I diversified my training as much as I could, thinking maybe I’d work in the Peace Corps. Then I heard that Australia was giving work visas to doctors who were prepared to work in remote areas. I couldn’t apply fast enough.”
She rested her chin on her hands and stared out across the dark yard. I took the opportunity to grab another bottle of wine.
“I’ve got a twelve month contract. I’m already hoping they will renew it. I love it here, Sue. I feel like I belong. Sure, it’s a bit blokey at times, and I haven’t met anyone in the Isa I could date, but I feel I’m making a difference. A real difference.” She reached out and took my hand where it rested on the table. “Having you here is fantastic. I liked you when we met in London. Really liked you, if Nora hasn’t already told you that.”
The underlying meaning of her words wove through the quiet night, but I was content to sit there, feel the touch of her fingers, to sip red wine, and let possibilities meander through my head. Moni had only hinted at being something more than friends, but the option was there, hanging between us. If I reached out and took it. If she did.
Thank you for reading and commenting.
If you enjoyed this excerpt, you can purchase Not-So-Straight Sue from these places:
Writing Milestones
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