Dear A. –
I am writing to express my gratitude for your gift. There are no sufficient words, but please accept my sincerest thank you.
She writes me back. I didn’t expect that.
She tells me she’s a lover of chicken pizza and video games, a hot sorority girl with the nickname Sloth. She wants to know something about me in return. She says I owe her.
This is how she saves my life. She doesn’t even know it. We’ve never even seen each other. But I need a reason. Just one reason to continue. She becomes mine.
The anonymity is good. She doesn’t need to know me, but I need her kindness. We both live our lives: a letter here, a post card there. For three years, I escape my demons. And then one day I’m pulled back in.
I’ve resigned myself to what I know is coming. Until the girl I’m spanking gives her safe word: Sloth.
And then the lie I’m living starts to unravel.
Sloth is an erotic romance. It’s a dark mystery, so if you’re sad, read another book. This one is real, and hard. Not that kind of hard. (That kind of hard, too). Consider yourself warned.
P.S. The book ends on a beach. That’s all I’m saying. As for an HEA, you’ll have to read and see.
P.S.S. Sloth is long as hell—about 500 pages. It was supposed to be short and quick. Instead it’s a behemoth that consumed its author for six months. As such, the price is going from $2.99 to $4.99 shortly after release.