New Release! Solo Mission: A Lesbian Spy Story

 

It’s out! My newest erotica eBook is available: Solo Mission: A Lesbian Spy Story.

 

Check out the summary:

There’s only one way to handle an agent who looks that good.

The evening was supposed to be simple: hold an event, have the media over, celebrate a charity, and have a few martinis in the process. These days, that’s as exciting as things get for Pearla, and she prefers it that way.

Years ago, she gave up being an operative for the agency and hasn’t looked back. She created a company using her savings and life has been treating her well. Well enough to start giving back to the community. But on the night she hosts a party for all her colleagues, her past comes back to haunt her. When she enters her office after taking a break from the crowd, she comes face-to-face with a female agent in a rather tight dress.

Minutes later, it’s a fight for Pearla’s business, her livelihood, and her reputation. They are the only things on her mind . . . that is until a new desire overtakes her, one that will suddenly take precedence over everything else. 

Pearla might not be getting back to the party for a long time.

If you enjoy steamy stories about lesbian women, tight dresses, spies, and fight scenes, then you’ll love Solo Mission.

 

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.


 

Solo Mission: A Lesbian Spy Story

(sample)

 

It was her turn to speak. Pearla set down her purse on the seat of her chair and made her way up to the microphone. She’d trained herself long ago to look up at the far end of the building to avoid the camera lights, which could be quite blinding when they all went off at once. The raised stage was a nice touch. It wasn’t her idea–she had her PR manager to thank for that, among other things–and she never would’ve thought to place it inside her home. The east wing of her home, anyway.

  The woman already standing at the podium beamed. “Before Ms. Bantham speaks to us, I just want everyone to know just how intricate she’s been to the entire process of making this new distribution center possible. People with disabilities or who otherwise don’t feel comfortable or able to work more traditional jobs now can find employment and get back on their feet.”

  She motioned for Pearla to step in closer. “Normally when we work with a sponsor or benefactor, we enjoy their contribution mostly through monetary means, but Ms. Bantham has worked with us every step of the way, from design, to implementation, to funding–as much as her busy schedule will allow, of course. We want to thank her for her generous donations and welcome her to any project we have in the future. Ladies and gentlemen, Pearla Bantham.”

  Pearla smiled and stepped into the now-empty spot in front of the mic. The sound equipment seemed a touch overkill, but as her PR manager had predicted, some news outlets showed for the event. Pearla would’ve preferred to leave the media out of it, but she couldn’t exactly kick them out. That would’ve neatly turned a positive story into a negative one.

  Pearla smoothly surveyed the crowd. “I’d like to thank the Workers Society of Crest Westborough for making this evening possible. They’re the real heroes here, as I only joined the scene for this project, while they’re on the front lines of our community every workday. Please turn any attention and focus to the company for their fine non-profit work. I’m honored to have been a part of it. Thank you.”

  She knew they all expected more, but that was all they were getting. She was never one for speeches, and even being on stage for that long made her crave a martini. Preferably one with an olive in it. She took the first of the two steps from the stage carefully so she wouldn’t trip. The dress she wore had an impressive slit running up the side, which helped mobility, but it never hurt to be cautious.

  The stage may have been someone else’s idea, but the dress was all hers. She had a bit of an exhibitionist side to her, and despite her philanthropy, she’d been known to show a bit of her wild side. Perhaps that’s why a few more news outlets were represented than normal at these type of quiet events. They likely hoped to catch a photogenic glimpse of part of her bare thigh or a snippet of her suggestive language. Sometimes, she gave them something to talk about on purpose.

  She received many smiles and head nods as she passed by groups of people, but nobody stepped out of their circles to talk to her quite yet. That being the case, she continued to the bar and ordered her drink. The bartender had on a sharp tuxedo with the bowtie at an impeccable angle. She was always impressed when a man knew how to dress well. But he wasn’t the only person she had her eye on.

  A woman ghosted behind several circles of people, moving across the room. She carried a notepad in one hand and a pen in another. At one point, she tapped a man on the shoulder and jotted something down in her notepad when he spoke. Pearla was too far out of earshot to hear what was being said, but the woman scribbled furiously, like she might miss something if she didn’t write fast enough.

  She was a curious creature, so intent on her notes that a strand of blonde hair kept coming loose and falling in front of her face. Every so often, she’d tuck it behind her ear in an adorable way, but it always found a way to come undone again. Pearla wouldn’t mind making more than her hairdo come undone.

(end of sample)


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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