Introducing Kalli…

As regular readers will know, I am a very firm believer in writers supporting each other and today I am ridiculously excited to share with you all a wonderful, brand new talent!

The very lovely Kalli has realised her childhood dream and published her first anthology of poetry, entitled “I Love you, (I know)”, which is available from Amazon and Createspace as a paperback right now and will be in eBook format very soon.

In her beautiful book, Kalli takes us on a passionate voyage through love, lust and loss, documenting the soaring highs and heart shattering lows of a turbulent D/s relationship. Reading her poems, no one could question the depth of Kalli’s love and devotion; her utter despair and pain that follows her lover’s rejection leaps from the page and tears at the reader’s heart. I think it’s fair to say that we all aspire to be loved, and to love, as fervently as Kalli does.

Her use of language and rhythm is a joy, making the book incredibly easy and pleasurable to read. She sweeps us up and away on a submissive’s journey through joy and heartbreak, though the light and dark of love; we, as readers, feel her every emotion with every word and every verse.

I simply cannot urge you enough to go purchase this beautiful anthology – I honestly do think this lady has a serious talent and I hope this debut collection will not be her last publication.

I wish her nothing but success with this book and I do hope that her heart heals and that she finds the love she so very clearly deserves… anyone would be lucky to be loved so well.

Why are you still here? Go buy the book here

Follow news of I Love You, (I Know) on twitter at @Kalli_Kk



Copyright, 2017,

All rights reserved.









Final Limit

Do you remember what it felt like to love me?

Do you remember how you used to run to me gleefully at the end of each day as I returned home, your eyes alight with life and mischief? How you would throw your arms around my neck and launch yourself onto me like a force of nature, delighted to see me again.

Do you remember Laura? How I would pick you up and spin you around, our lips meeting, feeling each other’s smile beneath the kiss? How you would tell me that your love for me knew no limits?

But you started to walk towards me instead of run. A chaste peck on the lips replaced the missile of affection you used to hurl at me.

The day came when you simply called out from the kitchen rather than greet me at the door.

I was no longer the centre of your universe. I was, instead, a satellite you vaguely noticed on the outer edge of your world.

So, I ran the bath for you, steaming hot and bubbly as you liked it and carried you up stairs that day, your body limp in arms.

I held you down under the water and watched you come around. I watched the shock on your face as you struggled against me, your arms suddenly animated and clawing at my chest.

Ah, now you wanted to touch me! Is this what it took to see such life and passion in your eyes once more? To feel you desperately reaching out for me again?

I watched as the light began to die in your eyes, so similar to watching the love that died too.

Your pale skin turned pink by the hot soapy water. Your dark hair floating around your beautiful face, eyes glazed. Your perfect lips parted in a surprised O.

Laura, I remember everything; the joy, the love, the passion… back when it felt limitless.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked


Copyright, 2016,

All rights reserved.

Heat… Duke


Parts 1-3

The sound of banging woke her. What the hell was that?

“Elsa?! Elsa! You home?” from the front of the house, followed by more banging. Stumbling out of bed she made her way to the kitchen to see Bill through the glass of the front door. She froze.

“Shit!” she thought, hyperaware of her state of dress, or rather, undress; wearing a loose wife-beater that barely skimmed her upper thighs, with armholes gaping wide enough to reveal the sides of her breasts. Running her hands through her bed head hair and trying to shake off the last vestiges of sleep, she realised the very thin cotton fabric was all that shielded her breasts. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest and called, “It’s not locked, c’mon in.”

“Can’t! Got my hands full out here!” he yelled back. She picked up the urgency in his voice and hurried over to open the door, horrified at what she saw in front of her.

Bill’s shirt was splattered with blood and in his arms lay a limp and broken Duke. Her hands flew to her mouth and tears immediately filled her eyes as she watched him carry her old friend over to the kitchen table and gently lie him out.

“What happened? Oh god no…” she wailed, panic stricken and confused, leaning over Duke and stroking the side of his face as he whimpered in pain.

“I found him on the road, must’ve been nicked by a car. I’m so sorry Elsa, it doesn’t look good for him. I called the vet from my truck, he’s on his way over,” his eyes, full of concern, searched her face, and he resisted the urge to hug her, to offer her comfort.

Tears running down her cheeks, no longer caring what she looked like, she bent over and cried, burying her head in Duke’s bloody fur, whispering soothing words to him. The old dog’s eyes gazed up at her, as if pleading her to make his pain end.

He let out another whimper and his eyelids slid shut.

“No! No! No! Duke! Duke baby!” she sobbed, unable to absorb the fact that her lovely, loyal dog was gone. She lifted his lifeless body and hugged him close to her chest, rocking him as she had done when he was stressed out by thunder as a puppy.

Bill stepped up to her, put his hand on her shoulder and murmured, “I’ll be right back. I’ll call the Doc, tell him to turn around.”

He came back to find Elsa cross-legged on the floor with Duke in her lap, stroking him tenderly. Crouching down next to her, he sat with her in silence.

Eventually he reached out and put his hand over hers. She turned to look at him and the sadness in her eyes broke his heart. He hated himself for what he was about to say.

“Elsa, you know what has to happen. I can do it.”

She shook her head, “No. That’s my job. Lemme get dressed. Will you stay here with him? I don’t want him to be alone.”

“Of course. And I’m helping, ok?”

She sank her head down and placed one last kiss on the Lab’s head before standing up and wearily walking back to her room.

Sweat ran down her face and neck as she shoveled the dirt. Standing beside her, holding Duke in his arms, Bill felt like a heel, but she had outright refused to let him dig, saying this was the very last thing she could do for her dog.

“That looks deep enough,” he said, worried she would hurt herself if she kept going.

She stood back, wiped her forehead with her arm, leaving behind a smudge of dirt, and nodded. Kneeling, he gently laid the dog into the hole and looked up at her, “Wanna say somethin’? A prayer?” he asked, squinting at the harsh sunlight that shone through her hair.

“Bye buddy. I love you. Go chase squirrels in doggy heaven,” tears once again flowing down her cheeks.

“I’m gonna fill it back in Elsa, I mean it. You are done in. Sit down a while, ‘k?”

She slumped onto the dusty ground and watched Bill put Duke to rest.

Back in the kitchen, “Why don’t you go get a shower? You’re covered in dirt,” he couldn’t help himself, he reached out and wiped the dirt from her forehead with his thumb.

“’K,” she mumbled.

“I’m gonna make you something to eat while you’re in there. No arguments!”

The smell of french toast wafted down to her bedroom as she dried off and pulled on shorts and vest top. It made her feel sick. Walking barefoot back to the kitchen, wet hair piled up on her head, she said, “Bill… I really can’t eat. I’m sorry.”

“At least have some juice,” he said handing her a glass of orange juice, which she accepted.

He looked at her; pale, swollen red eyes, wet hair. She looked forlorn, like a small child. Lost. He wanted so badly to take her into his arms and make it all okay for her again. How had she affected him so much in such a short time? He couldn’t remember ever feeling this before for any other woman. She had intoxicated him, without even trying.

He wanted to know her, to know everything about her.

He wanted to taste her. He watched as she licked the orange juice from her lips and wanted to know what those lips felt like on his. He wanted to reach out and touch her, feel how soft her skin was, trace every inch of her with his fingertips. He thought of her on the floor yesterday, flushed and breathless. He was sure he had interrupted her as she satisfied herself. Had she been thinking of him as she played? he wondered. Did she want him too?

“I’d better get on with the work Elsa, you gonna take it easy yeah?” he forced himself out of his head and back to reality.

“Oh Bill, I don’t think I can be alone today. Will you stay with me awhile? I’ll still pay you for today, of course,” her eyes looking up at him from underneath her fringe.

Smiling, he replied, “Sure thing, I’ll hang with you. Forget the money.”

A tear trickled down her cheek. He reached out and wiped it away with his thumb and she launched herself into his arms, her face pressed tight against his chest, clinging on to him for dear life as she sobbed uncontrollably. Wrapping his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her freshly washed damp hair, he whispered, “Ssssshhh, s’alright baby, s’alright,” rocking her gently and stroking her back.

Copyright, 2015,

All rights reserved.



Sweat trickled lazily down his back, itching his skin as he flexed his cramped, tight neck muscles, relishing the loud cracks as they loosened. Another few hours of digging left, he thought, throwing his hat on the dusty ground before pulling his shirt off and using it to wipe his forehead.

He heard the screen door slap shut and looked up to see her walking across the front porch, barefoot, wearing khaki shorts and a vest which had a dark V of sweat at the back. She had been in and out all morning, carrying laundry, sweeping the porch, scrubbing the windows. She carried herself with a weariness that came from hard physical labour. Her head turned in his direction and he swiftly dropped his gaze and bent to retrieve his hat, keeping his back turned until he heard the screen door again.

For the past week that he’d been working on the farm he’d watched her as she worked outside, as she tended to the hens and played with her dog. He loved her giggle, like wind chimes, the way her face lit up and eyes shone as she laughed when her chickens ran around in front of her, how she called them all different names and spoke to them as if they were her children. Not for the first time, he wondered why she had no man in her life, in her bed. A woman like her deserved to be loved, and loved well.

Hearing the screen door slam again, he concentrated on digging, not wanting to be caught looking at her again.

“Hey, thought you could use a cool drink. It’s like an oven out here.”

He turned to see her standing before him, hand outstretched, holding a glass of iced lemonade that was dripping with condensation, her dog at her heels, panting in the heat.

Taking it from her, feeling her cold wet fingers brush his, he replied, “Thank you Ma’am, much appreciated,” and lifted the glass to his lips. The cold, sweet liquid slid down his parched throat and he greedily swallowed it all in one take, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, gasping with relief.

She smiled as she said, “You look like I should’ve just brought out the whole jug!”, pulling her dark blonde bangs back from her glistening forehead. He saw tiny strands of hair sticking to her neck and longed to brush them away and lick the sweat from her skin.

Realising his eyes were glued to her throat, he cleared his throat and squinted up into the sky trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make him look like a total idiot, “Thanks again Ma’am, but I guess I’d better get back to it.”

“It’s Elsa, Ma’am makes me feel old!” she giggled again and he noticed the flush on her cheeks, “Maybe you should come on in for some lunch in about an hour? I’ll fix up some sandwiches?” her eyebrows raised and she tilted her head slightly, her eyes skimming down his chest and back.

Not waiting for a response, she swiftly turned and walked back towards the farmhouse, calling to the dog to follow her. He watched her long shapely legs, her hips swinging as she moved across the field and wondered if he had imagined the bloom on her cheeks, the way her gaze lingered on his exposed torso, the spark of invitation in her eyes?

Was she only offering him lunch, or more?


Copyright, 2015,

All rights reserved.