Cover Reveals & Release Day Countdown!
Today it’s officially ONE MONTH until books 1-3 of the Naked Truth Poetry series are released!
To celebrate, I’m excited to do a cover reveal for books Two and Three, with a special Sneak Peek from Book One.
But first things first—these gorgeous covers!
THE GOOD GIRL IS LONELY;
THE BAD BOYS ARE HORNY—LET THE GAMES BEGIN
if you break me, i’ll break you,
but if you don’t care and i do
then you’re really the one making up all the rules
and i’m just following along
infatuated, caught, used--
Welcome to Bad Boy Good Guy, Book One of the Naked Truth Poetry series, an explicit coming-of-age romance, a sizzling mix of poetry and prose. If you’ve ever fallen for someone by accident, kept yo-yoing back to the same person regardless of whether or not they were right for you, or felt that your love life is messier and more unpredictable than what’s generally portrayed in movies and romance novels, this book is especially for you.
WHEN SHE NEEDED HIM, HE LEFT HER—A MAKEOUT RAMPAGE IS THE ONLY WAY TO FEEL BETTER
i almost forgot about you because i wanted him
and then i met someone new who felt like a dream
that turned into a nightmare and left me alone
at the end of the day—i’m just looking for ‘home’
In First Time Worst Time, Book Two of the real-life Naked Truth Poetry series, things get both sexy and desolate, from North America to Western Europe. If you’ve ever been through a breakup or felt abandoned, if you didn’t know what to do with all the pain except to drink, party and kiss it away, if your search for love has brought you from rocket highs to shattering lows, this spicy coming-of-age saga wants you to know that you’re not alone.
KISSING ON SPANISH STREETS, BOOKING AIRBNBS—HOW MANY GUYS WILL IT TAKE TO SET HER FREE?
come back, don’t go
i’m falling for strangers that i don’t know
while missing him and then thinking of you
i want to be happy, so we’re kissing,
but my heart can’t be fooled
In More Kissing Less Crying, the third installation of the Naked Truth Poetry series, things get even sexier, but far from perfect. If you’ve ever had a sexual experience where things didn’t go as smoothly as they do in the movies, if you’ve been with someone while missing someone else, if you’ve gone out to get wasted, trying to numb your broken heart, this real-life, X-rated poetry diary knows exactly what you’re talking about.
Book One: Bad Boy Good Guy
From The Future,
I’m writing to tell you about a war, a war between my heart and my mind, with trauma disguised as romance, where I tore myself apart trying to make myself whole.
This isn’t about poetry or erotica. It’s about telling the truth: that relationships aren’t always rainbows and sunshine, that sex is messy, that ‘bad boys’ often stay ‘bad’. It's about exploring the cycles of trauma and desperation winding through inebriated text messages and sexy rendezvous. Because toxic situations don’t happen by accident. Something in us seeks something in them, and after all this time, I think I finally know what it is.
Now, it all makes perfect sense to me, even though in the moment, it often seemed like masochism and lunacy. Now, I understand the different parts of me that were fighting to survive and feel seen.
The opening section of this book is the crux of this war, the climax where the dark crevices are exposed. The sexy bits may seem appealing, when really, they’re merely the residue of a ravaged soul, dried up and half-lifeless, scraping around for warmth and comfort, for something to hold on to, for something to feed it the lifeblood of its own existence because it had forgotten how to feed itself. It had forgotten how to feel, how to live, and all it knew was self-destruction and need.
I finally understand why I ended up in an open relationship, going to a sex club with a polyamorous man who had proven himself to be incapable of emotional connection. I understand why I felt like my entire world revolved around him, and that while we could never fully be together, if we were apart, I just might die. I understand why I was overcome with addiction and loneliness, which I confused for love.
This is the mesmerizing danger of inner child wounds—deep subconscious insecurities and pain from childhood—which often lead us straight into toxic situations.
This is what happens when self-love and awareness are swallowed up in co-dependency and hopelessness, when you torture yourself to numb the pain that you can’t express, when you latch onto someone else who is just as empty and as broken as you are, someone who doesn’t help you swim to shore, but rather encourages you to drown and devastate yourself even more.
It all came to a head with my night at the sex club with 34, whom you're about to meet.
None of the names in this retelling are real, despite that this book is written about my life with as much honesty as possible. Each name has a deeper significance, and soon, you’ll find out what 34’s is.
He is the bad boy, the antagonist, the beloved enemy in this war between my heart and my mind. Because of him, I realized I was at war with myself. Because of him, I started writing this story. I told myself I would write until I found myself and made sense of what was happening. I told myself I would write until I saved myself.
I told myself I would write until I found a way out.
34
Saturday, August 25, 2018
untitled,
do you want to start the story
from the back
do you want to hear about the love
we never had
do you want to see clothes
dropping to the floor
do you want to hear pain and pleasure
keeping score
do you want to want it ’til you can’t take it
anymore—
good, that’s what i thought
Note to My Lover: Saturday, August 25, 2018
It didn’t feel real. I couldn’t believe you were mine for the whole weekend, and for once, you were actually on time. Rain cascaded down as I came up the subway escalator, and there you were, waiting for me in your car, as you called me on the phone.
“Do you have an umbrella?” you asked into my ear, and I smiled at the sound of your voice.
“Nope.” I hadn’t anticipated rain, just a hot, memorable weekend with you.
“I’m bringing one now.”
What a gentleman, I thought.
I was glowing as I got to the door and watched you get out of your car with your umbrella and walk over to me through the pouring rain, your gaze fixed on mine. The moment felt as if it were out of a movie, and I was floating on a cloud.
I don’t have to hide how much I want you anymore. I don’t have to pretend I’m not dying to be in your arms. I don’t have to fight myself like I’ve done for so long. I can be with you, and we can enjoy each other’s company shamelessly—at least for tonight.
My heart thumped at the mere thought of it, of being free, of going wild with you.
I met you under the umbrella, and we reached for each other, wild, wet, needy. Your lips were warm and moist, devouring mine. Your tongue in my mouth was both familiar and foreign. It had been long, torturous months since we had been together for real, and I felt the swirling from my stomach straight down to my pussy. We breathed against each other, panting with the rain, the world disappearing into nothing around us.
I missed you so much.
I just never let myself admit it until now. I never let myself want you, fearlessly, openly—though of course, you were still my dirty little secret, a secret I was about to enjoy very much. This weekend was all about us, and I wasn’t about to let one moment slip away. I wasn’t about to let the future, and our lack of one, tear us apart. You were the only thing that mattered, and you were the only one I wanted.
You walked me to the passenger seat and then went around to the driver’s side. Once you got in and shut the door, our eyes met, and fireworks burst as we came back together, your hands in my hair, my arms around your neck, the flames bright and ravenous, sizzling like ecstasy, my heart thrashing as if it were about to explode.
I would never admit it to you, but you were my whole world, a tantalizing, forbidden world full of thrills and magic, and I felt as if I were walking through the shining portal.
For once, I didn’t have to share you with a dance floor full of people. I didn’t have to fight for your attention, because there you were, with eyes only for me.
It was the closest I had ever come to being yours, and the intoxication of your presence made me high. And yet, even after all this time, I still hardly knew you. I was more familiar with your body as we held each other close in slow circles on the dance floor or as we raked our hands over each other late at night in the back of your car.
And yet, the sexy times had never been my goal. It wasn’t your cock that I was dying to touch; it was your soul. It was that radiant, magnetic thing that always seemed to pull me back to you and kept me coming back for more.
I tightened my arms around your neck, the relief almost as palpable as the elation.
I’ve never wanted to let you go. And for once, for now, I don’t have to.
I don’t think you realized how special it was for me.
I don’t think you’ve ever realized how special you were to me.
making up for lost time,
we kissed in the rain, we kissed in your car
you were shy when the Airbnb host saw us, but i wasn’t—
i just loved being in your arms
i wished i could be there 24/7, no matter what
except that i wouldn’t, i shouldn’t,
i can’t
feast,
as soon as we were alone in the room, we attacked each other
as if we were both starving and the other person were food
it was the fastest meal that i ever ate, but i’m not complaining
you know i’ve always loved your taste