Cut to The Heart of It

by April D. Berry

I may have been in a bigger body, but I was still fucking fabulous and didn’t want to look like a washed-up old maid.

Plus, even though we don’t make money, we all have loyal readers always waiting for the next story.

Writing, in a cabin, in a rainstorm…perfection.

That specimen…in long-johns. And ladies thought grey sweats were eye candy. They clearly never saw a grown man in long underwear.

That man was shirtless…swinging an axe. From the way he stood I only saw his back, but it was still a glorious sight.

“You smell like happiness. Can I come in?”