Quitting Stripping (and a teaser for the new book) ~nsfw

I don’t know why but the cook at the new strip club I have been working at singled me out to taste test new wing sauce.

It was dead as fuck and I was stationary for about an hour. Reading glasses on, looking up in mild irritation every time the door opened and it was just a staff member coming in from a cigarette break and letting all the cold air in.

He walked over with a basket as though he was giving me an offering of appeasement.

I was so bored in fact that, as I ate the wings, I launched into a detailed description of each sauce. He only wanted to know which one was better. The smoky one from Michigan if anyone is wondering.

I also got a text from my girl Mandy yesterday afternoon, “you writing?”

I was trying to.

Had a short burst of muse inspired productivity yesterday morning and then struggled for a few hours.

Once upon a time, in another life really, a woman said to me, “It will be a really good day when I can refer to you as Sarah the writer instead of Sarah the waitress.”

This.

Yes.

Please.

I don’t want to blame the planets here, but I do find it kinda funny that I am attempting to sell 2000 copies of a novella I just wrote during Mercury Retrograde. I can’t really blame Papa Mercury for my writer’s block.

Mandy messaged and we went to a café where I got a bit more done and had a really horrible sandwich. We also talked about a bit of copywriting I had done for her years ago for a school project. A blurb about a fake book called “The Drunken Mermaid”. I found it as I was cleaning out my documents last week, and not for the first time thought to myself, “this would make a really good actual book.” I had originally thought the document had something to do with my 2 years of severe alcoholism at a bar called Sirens that really only ended a short while ago. But apparently it was just an omen of things that hadn’t transpired yet. We were brainstorming for a bit then Cara messaged and said she wanted to leave for work early and off I went.

We pulled off the highway and she told me she really just wanted me to come to work so I could drive her car home. She also wants me to make money, I know she loves me. But I’m struggling.

The whole sandwich/wing combo was not sitting well in my belly. But we will get to that in a minute.

I re read the first installment of the smol book Witch & Wolf, this morning. Fuck, its GOOD.

Who was that girl that wrote so well and where the fuck is she now?

22 days of distractions and writer’s block.

But I wrote that in email format in the jeep on the way to and from Disney, in lines for rides, at boarding gates in various airports and in the crappy Airbnb in Texas.

Maybe that is it. Maybe I am better when I am not stuck in one place.

Or maybe it’s this place, or that place.

I really hate my job.

I wrote Wolf last night and this morning. Told him I walked out mid shift.

He hates it too. My favorite thing that he calls me is ‘his’. He is stoic and protective. I cannot imagine what he must go through when he knows I am at work. Except I can, because I am having the same reaction.

Bless him though, he understands it is necessary.

I have been dancing for 21 years now, on and off. I can always gauge how much I care about someone by how willing I am to quit.

Wolf came back to see me October 21^st last year, I quit my job preemptively on the 19^th. We weren’t together yet, hadn’t slept together or worked out the minutiae of our relationship yet and I still couldn’t stand stripping for one more minute. Negative 48 hours actually.

But, due to some bad planning and overspending, I am stuck stripping again for a bit. I can’t exactly walk into a straight job and leave again in 7 weeks for a month away now can I?  Can I? Please?

My natural state of being is monogamous and although I reserve my rights to be a bad ass financially independent bitch in stilettos, and I do not cross moral boundaries, I get why it is hard for guys to date dancers. I dated one guy ONE TIME who was legitimately proud of my dancing career, more than a few who understood, and a shitty handful that took advantage.

Truth is, I don’t like stripping when I am with someone. Especially not since I have been with Wolf.

He’s my Dom.

My innate sense of belonging to Wolf has made it harder and harder to go to work. I’m physically repulsed by the basic mechanics of my job and it hit me hard last night with a grand mal epiphany. 

I was stone sober last night at Cara’s request.

Hid in the back on a couch because the bar was empty for the first 3 hours.

Walked back onto the floor around 10 and it was busy.

Tons of girls and customers. 

I looked around the room and felt the overwhelming need to leave. Not a panic attack, I have had those. Just no flight and all flight. But calm, with vomiting.

‘I don’t belong here’ in a loop in my head. My head was splitting open and I was overcome with nausea.

I took my lock and my boots and I left unceremoniously.

Cara is mad at me now.

I don’t know what I’m going to do but I’m glad I left.

I do know what I’m going to do now.

I am going to publish this smol book and I am going to keep banging my head against the keyboard until the other smol books come out.

Think Penny Dreadfuls, short, reasonably priced installments of a larger whole.
Following the story of 2 twin flames that keep finding each other in this life and those that came before. Every time some mystical magical element both drawing them in and keeping them from getting it exactly right enough to fulfill their karma. With a lot, A LOT of graphic sex. Werewolves and Witches and bondage, oh my.

It’s REALLY good idea. I hopefully have the talent to pull it off.

So, without further ado, or much ado, or a reasonable amount of ado…

A smol teaser for the smol book.

She came back to reality briefly as he lifted her arms up over her head and gently laid her back down on the bed, assuming their previous positioning. She watched his face change in front of her eyes, her favorite moment, this magnificent transformation from man to monster. She smiled up at him, welcoming the transition. Her Wolf, her beast. She would take everything he gave her and beg for more. Her body quivered in anticipation and she was soon rewarded.

She felt him spread her legs and she forced herself apart even wider until her lower half resembled a wishbone, trembling at the breaking point. He lifted his body up, briefly away from her and swooped down in one fluid motion, she felt his wide, wet tongue part her pussy lips and add to her impossible wetness. Her synapses firing rapidly as sparks lit up under her skin following the trail his tongue made. That was nothing compared to the moment he entered her.

The fireworks started slowly building in her belly. The stop motion sensation returning from her dream, but this time it was bliss. She fought to keep her eyes open in the overwhelm so she could look at him. She was quickly losing control of everything, including her voice, crying out every time he thrust into her. She couldn’t help it. Her thoughts became unintelligible noises and sensations. He had given her this exquisite gift of feeling safe enough to completely let go and she gladly surrendered to this, and him.

 Hopefully, by the end of this month, I will be able to come back into this post and paste a link to where you can buy the rest of this. Just waiting on cover art and an Amazon link.

Pray for me my lovelies, and pretty please buy Witch & Wolf.

I really don’t want to be a stripper anymore.