[Don’t miss the winner announcement at the bottom of this post!]
My horoscope today: “You are fortunate in that you have a clear vision of what you want out of life, Delilah. Many people never truly know what it is they are meant to be doing. Even with the distinct advantage that you have, however, you may still find it difficult to “live your bliss,” as the expression goes. Too many people, all of them well meaning, try hard to impose their opinions on you. Stand firm. You better than anyone know what’s best for you.”
When a horoscope is good, I thank the cosmos for the good advice. When it’s bad, I quickly hit delete and thank goodness I don’t believe a word of it! Today, I’m grateful. 🙂
Anyway, Lesbian Cops, the latest erotica anthology from Cleis Press (the same folks who are publishing Girls Who Bite), is out on Amazon.com early!! Click on the cover for the Buy Link!
Yeah, the cover is a little strange, but hey, the stories HAVE to be hot, right?
What is it about lesbian cops that pushes all the right buttons? It’s not just the uniform, with handcuffs and weapons, or the confidence, authority, and sense of danger. There’s something more as well, an irresistible force that these writers have channeled into fiercely erotic stories of policewomen in or out of uniform, on patrol or undercover, in charge or in need of healing, on the case or under the sheets.
The action can be gut-level tough, as in Jove Belle’s ”Hollis” where anti-terrorism boot camp surges over the inevitable edge into BDSM, or heart-wrenching as in Evan Mora’s “A Cop’s Wife” when death threats sharpen the need for life-affirming sex to a keen edge, or quirky as well as steamy while Teresa Noelle Roberts’s cop finds a way to maintain respect for her own “Dress Uniform” while indulging her anime-girl lover’s cos-play kink. Delilah Devlin, Andrea Dale, R. G. Emanuelle, Cheyenne Blue, and all the other contributors offer their own sizzling visions of the complexity and depth, the strength and vulnerability, and above all the commanding, overwhelming sex appeal of Lesbian Cops.
From my short story, The Only Game in Town, about the budding relationship between a bicycle cop and a patrolwoman:
The next few days were a little strained around the guys. Word got around. Sly glances followed me everywhere. But since I didn’t rise to any of their innuendos, the excitement faded and they found someone else to hound.
This day, I’d parked my car at the Stop ‘n’ Go. It might be small-town Louisiana, but bandits still preferred the ease of a quickie robbery when they were low on cash. The store had been hit twice in the past six months and the sheriff had promised a “presence” to the owner. So in between calls, I parked in the hot sun at the edge of the parking lot, running my AC with the window open to ease the humidity inside the vehicle.
The whir of spokes catching the wind whizzed by my car. Little black shorts hugging a nicely rounded backside caught my attention.
Ramona halted at the edge of the curb next to the shop’s front door and eased off her helmet. Sweat stained the center of her back, her hair lay in wet tangled spikes around her head. She glanced my way and gave me a smile that set my heart beating faster, and then entered the store.
I opened my car door and dumped the fresh cup of coffee I’d bought just a few minutes before then headed inside.
“Back so soon?” Dolores asked from her seat behind the counter.
I gave a quick glance around the aisles but didn’t find my quarry. “That cup went right through me,” I said, making my way to the restroom in the back.
Once the door swung shut behind me, I quietly locked it.
A toilet flushed. The stall door opened. Ramona stepped out and her eyes widened. “Didn’t hear you come in, Cath.”
“I won’t keep you long.”
She walked to the sink, soaped up and cleansed her hands, then used a paper towel to wipe the sweat from her face. “What is it you want?”
I leaned against the bathroom door and folded my arms over my chest. “You said we should take some time to know each other, but that’s never gonna happen if you’re avoiding me.”
She met my glance in the mirror. Challenge glittered in her golden brown eyes. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Why’d I come here when I could have chosen a dozen other businesses to stop in?”
I raised a brow. “Maybe because it’s public and you could say you weren’t avoiding me and get away with it?”
She grunted, her lips twisting. “Again, what is it you want?”
This wasn’t going well. Again, I felt like I had two left feet. “How about a yes or no?” I blurted. “Wanna go out?”
She gave a feminine grunt. “No.”
The disappointment cut, but I nodded, firming my chin, and began to turn.
“There’s not anywhere in public we can go together, Cath. The sheriff wouldn’t like it if we paraded a date. But I’d like you to come over for dinner.”
“Your place?” I said, forcing the words past a tightened throat.
“Yeah. Tonight.” She sauntered forward and tucked her fingers under the sharp edges of my buttoned collar. Her hand twisted, cinching it around my throat and pulling me down.
I’d kissed women before. Even kissed a few men. This was hotter than I’d ever had—even with two layers of Kevlar between our chests.
Her mouth smoothed over mine then suctioned. Her lips were thick and juicy, her tongue rimming me. I waited, not charging in, and was rewarded when her tongue pushed against mine. Just a touch, and then it was gone. I tasted mint. She had to taste the coffee I’d guzzled all day.
She leaned back, her mouth open and air gusting as she licked her lips. “Tonight.”
She strode past me. I heard the snick of the lock as she opened it. The door whooshed closed.
“Oh, fuck.”
And someone today is going to be particularly grateful for the gooey goodness that is The Hillbilly Calendar! Drumroll…the winner is…Estella!
