It’s out! My newest erotica eBook is available: Rush With Me: A Sorority Story..
Check out the summary:
Shelby learns just what it takes to join a lesbian sorority.
Being a freshman, she’s never rushed for a sorority before. Even being a cheerleader for two years didn’t prepare her for this. She’s heard rumors of what goes on behind closed doors, but she dismisses them as just that…rumors. There’s no way they’re true.
She’s never touched another girl before, and she certainly doesn’t consider herself a lesbian, but rushing for this particular sorority opens her up to new experiences. This is one night she’ll never forget.
Here’s where you can find it for only $0.99:
I want to give a huge thanks to everyone on my Launch Team, who are invaluable for their feedback. And of course, thank you to my readers for all your support. I owe everything to my readers and their continual patronage.
If you’d like, read below for a sample of the story.
Rush With Me
The zipper on Shelby’s puffy jacket broke two minutes after she boarded the campus rush bus. She didn’t notice, at first, too busy screaming at the top of her lungs with the other thirty sorority-hopefuls around her. Only when the metal bit into her hand did she look down. She swore, grimacing as the tip of her finger began to bleed.
“Hey,” one of the rushers at her side said, nudging Shelby with a pointed elbow. “Don’t stop. If you stop screaming, they’re gonna throw you off.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Shelby said. She pressed her finger to her lip and glanced toward the bus’s driver, a woman barely visible in the dim, October night. There were purple bags under her eyes, dark enough to match the evening sky.
“Rules are rules.” The stranger shrugged. “You gotta play the game if you want to get into a house.”
Shelby took her finger from her mouth and brushed it against her coat with a sigh. She cleared her throat, lifted her head, and started to scream again.
The rules of rushing had been spelled out early on in the process, made explicitly clear for the freshmen still finding their way around campus. Niceties needed attended to, and certain sorority traditions, no matter how obscure, had to be abided by–including, of course, the tradition of screaming yourself hoarse on the campus rush bus.
If a girl played her cards right, she would end up with a gilded invitation to the infamous rush night. Shelby, freshmen or not, knew how to play her hand.
The bus glided to a stop, sending her stumbling forward. As Shelby righted herself, she saw several rushers climb over one another in a desperate attempt to escape before the bus doors closed. As she tried to right herself, she stumbled again, landing face first into the chest of the girl who had chided her.
Despite the awkward fumbling, both girls laughed.
“I’m Annie,” the stranger said, once Shelby was back on her feet. She stuck out a well-manicured hand and let it hover, waiting for Shelby to shake.
“Shelby.” Annie’s hand was cool against her own, but Shelby didn’t mind. She winced as the screaming resumed, then giggled when she saw Annie do the same. “Where are you rushing at?”
Shelby blinked, running through a list of campus sororities in her head.
“It’s a nickname,” Annie said, noting her confusion. “It’s the house at the end of frat row. You know, the one with statues in front of it.”
“Oh!” Shelby’s face broke into a grin. “That’s where I’m heading too!”
“And you couldn’t remember its nickname? You’re not going to make it through the night.”
(end of sample)
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