Out of the Woods is out (and proud)!

One of my stories, Out of the Woods, is part of Come Out With Me, a LGBT anthology just released by Etopia Press. Come Out With Me showcases 3 stories of first gay and lesbian love.

Out of the Woods
In Out of the Woods Adrienne flees to Wales after her hotshot banker boyfriend proposes to her. There, safe from both boyfriend and meddlesome father, she will discover her past isn't at all like she thought. And neither is her future.
You can buy Come Out With Me on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and All Romance eBooks.

Harlem Nocturne

Part 9

She appeared out of nowhere, a couple months later, as she did that first night, making her way into his dressing room without much ado. 'I was waiting to hear from you,' she said, leaning in the doorway. Quietly, he poured some scotch. This time, he didn't offer her any.
'What's on your mind, kid?m'I'm on in a few, so make it snappy.'
She settled down on a chair, her dress folding around her legs awkwardly. 'There's something I need to talk to you about.'
'There's nothing to discuss. You had your fun. I had mine. That's it. The end.'
Outside, he could hear the audience filling up the place. He took a big swig of scotch.
'I didn't want things to end... like this. I hoped...'
'You hoped? You better hope your Mister Charlie don't find out nothing about us.'
'James? Is that what you're on about? '
Harlem shrugged. 'Ain't nothing on.' In the hallway, a door slammed. Men laughed. 'No, wait!' he said. 'Something is on. My band. My show.' He emptied his glass and made to get up.
Her shoulders sagged a bit lower into her dress. She gave him an odd look, timid almost. 'Don't go. I needed to see you. I... This ain't easy. This was the only way.'
'There's always a way,' Harlem said, pointing the bottle her way, then pouring himself another for good luck. He wasn't really sure where he was going with this. All he knew, with every little taste she grew more attractive. He wanted to get out of there. Her eyes grew wide. 'No Harlem, please, listen...' Outside, a lone trumpet started. A drawn-out intro. They had started without him. 'That's it. I... gotta go,' said Harlem and made for the door.

Harlem Nocturne

Part 8

True to its nature, the city never slept. It just changed faces. When Harlem walked back home that morning, it was as busy as it had been at night, just more sober. Young men pushed vegetable karts. Laborers slouched by, as keen for this day to end as he was. A little boy sold papers, he even bought one. Clinging on to it like some sort of talisman, he made his way through, lost in thoughts. By the time he got to the Tresspass, he had all but forgotten about Billie. Pretty soon, she was a nothing but a dim memory.

Harlem Nocturne

Part 7

He tried to freshen up, but somehow, his heart wasn't really in it. Instead he found himself staring mindlessly in the mirror. His red hair, his pride and joy, was already fading into grey. His eyes were hollow, bloodshot and if anything, he needed a shave. Even his skin seemed to get duller, losing its shine. In a while, he wouldn't be a match for James or any guy for that matter.
When he stepped out, Billie was awake and naked, parading through the room. In spite of his sour mood, Harlem had to laugh. He tried to gather her in his arms, one last touch, but she was much too nimble to get a hold on. She dressed slowly, teasing him. With something like remorse, he handed her the watch.
'Must be going,' he said.
'Will I see you again?' Billie asked, running her hands through her hair.
'Sure, baby. Sure.'
He made for the door. Outside, a cold day had dawned.

Harlem Nocturne

Part 6

The next morning, Harlem awoke with a sense of dread he couldn't right explain. Things had run their course. There was no need to worry. Next to him, Billie had thrown off the covers. In his experience, early morning never did anyone a favor, but she was the exception to that rule. Her soft, syrup-like skin. The faint smile which formed around her mouth as she slept. Her long lashed eyes. In everything, she was perfect. And the best part was, she was a sound sleeper.

Harlem got up and scratched. He made his way through the room, picking up his scattered clothes one by one. The only thing that had been put away neatly, on a side table, was a chained watch Billie carried. Overnight, it had gathered a thin layer of dust. Inside, there was a picture. Probably the fiancé, James Jean something. Clean-shaven type of guy. Strapping fellow. The kind who gave girls all they could ever want for.

Harlem Nocturne

Part 5

She was engaged, of course. For Harlem, that just made things easier. Nothing to it, like playing a song he had rehearsed over and over. He knew what to do.
'Are you happy?' he asked, pushing another mint julep her way. 'With him?'
She chewed on that concept for a while. 'Happy?' she mused. 'James will give me everything I'll ever want. With him, I'll not wish for anything.'
'Sounds great,' said Harlem, voice warm with understanding. That did the trick. She fell silent, thinking. Like always, it was only a matter of time.
'What about you?' she said at last.
'Me? Oh, I still have plenty of wishing left in me.' He paused for effect. 'Feel like granting one?'

Harlem Nocturne

Part 4

It was only the politest of knocks and yet, he had been expecting it. 'Excuse me for being a bit shy,' she said, leaning against the doorway, head cocked. 'I'm still working up the courage to talk to you.' Somewhere in the hallway, a door slammed. Bottles rankled, a girl laughed, high-pitched. It promised to be a wild night.
'Courage? I ain't gonna bite,' said Harlem, motioning her in.
'Don't you make any promise I may not let you keep,' she chided. Her eyes scanned the scarce belongings of his dressing room, resting finally upon his glass.
'Offer me a drink?'
'All I have is Scotch.'
'That'll do.' She smiled and he poured her half a glass. She took a sip and then another one, keeping her face composed, if only barely.
'Look, Mister....' she said, putting down the glass.
'Harlem Red will do.'
'Billie Barnett. Enchanté.' She stuck out her hand and as he hovered over it, his lips hardly touching skin, he was reminded of a world long gone.
'Well, then, Harlem Red, I'm sure your mama raised you well,' she said, considering him.
'What?'
'Didnt she tell you it is impolite to have a lady do the asking?'
'And what would the lady have me ask her?'
'Well, for her company for a night out on the town.'