Somewhere in Bondi, on a street leading to the ocean, a black lacquered door throbs with music and a golden doorknob beckons. A band of navy Italian lace silk fringing falls from my hips, skimming my thighs. I suck my belly button back to my spine, check my boobies are still bound inside my … More Yikes! I’m at my first school parent’s party and everyone’s a Swinger, but me.
The most profound advice I ever received from my longtime friend – other than, ‘Love! one is never enough’! – Jas, aka an ex cross-dressing, gender bender with buckets of present day style was, ‘Love, who needs normal? You were born to be exceptional! You, We were born to be fabulous! In a … More Style has one rule – We are not normal, we are Exceptional!
As a 50-year-young woman I am excited to share a beauty secret, one I have known for 30 years! The beauty secret is my friend Jas. Jas is and has been my mirror and my accomplice in keeping it ‘pretty’ when life was hard and my mirror and accomplice when life was full of fantastically … More A Guest Contributor – Beauty secrets – Tips and Tricks of a Cross-dressing Beauty Queen
The irony of freelance writing and pursuing time for creative fiction. It’s crazy, the busier my freelance writing world becomes, the more productive I am with my own fiction work. Go figure! But backstage my unworthiness gremlin slips in and tells me I cannot pursue busy success and write with a true voice at … More My Mumma said, you are enough. ( Fast Non-Fiction, a 1 minute read)
In this carriage between platforms, how far will you travel not to return? … More Our loneliness kills( fast fiction, a 1 minute read)
FAST LOVE I don’t even want to waste your time Lets just say that maybe You could help to ease my mind Baby I aint Mr. Right. But if you’re looking for fast love. GEORGE MICHAEL Fast Love, how far do I have to get up, to get down? I love meeting people, their vulnerable … More Fast Love, how far do I have to get up, to get down?
Alone on her balcony, she stretched her limbs, taut, stark and naked against the restless hunger of her room.
Hidden behind a curtain in Paris, I watched her.
Her bedroom peered out behind her, a homicidal battle nest of tossed bed sheets, knotted tangles and abandoned clothing. The spoils of a front line, where she the victor, had prowled like a predator and escaped.
… More A NAKED WOMAN IN PARIS.