LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

Chapter 1
"Oh my God! Woman, you don't just burn your bridges, you blow up the road as well." Laughing at both the unfolding story and the young woman gracing her San Francisco bedroom, Kylee handed her best friend since grade school a second glass of Pinot Noir and took a seat on the cushioned bench at the end of the bed. "I mean, no kidding; all his stuff out the window?"

Accepting the offered glass of ruby comfort, Valerie leaned back against the oak headboard of Kylee's bed, taking a deep sip. "Shirts, pants, you name it, right out the window."

Shaking her head, Kylee took her own swig of Napa Valley red and leaned forward to rest her arm on the blue silk of her favorite bedspread. "OK, Val, we've had our wine and you've had your cry. Now spill."

Setting her glass down on the nightstand, Val ran her hands through her hair. 'Hair straight as a stalk of Idaho wheat and just as blonde,' her mom liked to say. A complete opposite of Kylee's almost blue-black curls, courtesy a heritage consisting of both Greek and Portuguese. The girls had met at a Seattle, Washington, neighborhood pool their third-grade summer, one light-skinned and slathered in sunscreen, and the other already well-browned by the early July sun. Val had offered to share her kickboard with Kylee, and a lifelong friendship was born. As they got older, they found they shared a lot of common interests. Sports, fashion, and to their parents shared headaches, boys. Luckily for Val and Kylee, their tastes in the male gender ran in two different directions. Kylee always went for the loud, athletic types. Val preferred the quieter debate and chess club boys.

"Come on, Val, you're stalling. I want to hear every detail, including how you got away clean."

"What do you mean, got away clean?"

Shrugging, Kylee swirled her wine a little and looked up at her friend. "You know, got away. I mean, let's face it, Ming the Merciless isn't exactly your usual type."

Taking up her glass again, Val frowned down the bed at her friend. "What do you mean my type? And don't call him Ming."

"I mean, unlike the last two milksops you dated, he didn't strike me as the kind of man who would respond to his clothes flying through the air with just a shrug and a tear. And while we're on the subject, why not Ming? I like Ming. It fits him better than Jason."

Val had to partially agree with her best friend. Her last few boyfriends were indeed milksops. First, it had been a bartender/actor she met during her early years as a special events organizer in LA. It had been her first big break, assisting the more seasoned employees with a Tropical Expressions venue for the latest celebrity-endorsed rum.