Part of Series
In the end, did I stab him to be free of him? And free to what? Fuck? Snort? Party? Or free to be normal? It was a very interesting situation, up there on Maundy,” Elliot said. “Nothing like it in the world. It’s a safe place for people like me.” “People like you? Can you be more specific?” He ran his finger on the edge of his blotter, and a chill went up my inner thighs. “People like me means, I don’t know. Fuckers. We fuck because it’s what we do. Bus drivers drive. Accountants account. Policemen police. I’m a fucker. I fuck.”
Author
CD Reiss is a New York Times bestselling author. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn't pick up she's at the well hauling buckets. Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master's degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels. She's frequently referred to as the Shakespeare of Smut which is flattering but hasn't ever gotten her out of chopping a single cord of wood. If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine. ***NONE OF MY BOOKS ARE SAFE***
