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Tickled Pink

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About the author:
Like any feline, Selena Kitt loves the things that make her purr-and wants nothing more than to make others purr right along with her! This sassy, outrageous author lives with her husband and children in the Midwest, all of whom she thinks are the cat's meow. Her writing embodies everything from the spicy to the scandalous, but watch out-this kitty also has sharp claws and her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.

Selena is e-published with Phaze, Samhain, Whiskey Creek Press, and Charles River Press. Her story, Connections, was one of the runners-up for the 2006 Rauxa Prize, given annually to an erotic short story of "exceptional literary quality," out of over 1,000 nominees, where awards are judged by a select jury and all entries are read "blind" (without author's name available.) She was also a top ten author finisher in the 2006 Preditors and Editors Poll, and her work has been published online at The Erotic Woman and The Shadow Sacrament: a journal of sex & spirituality.

You can learn more about her at

Tickled Pink

Authored by Selena Kitt

Who says sex can't be fun--or funny? You'll find more than enough amusing mishaps and uproarious situations to tickle your funny bone--and other things!--in this delightfully wicked and tremendously sexy anthology from Selena Kitt.

Stories included: Cold Day in Hell, Candy Hearts, Sleep Study, That Damned Cat, The Emperor's New Suit, Toto, The Vagina Monologue, C-u-n-n-i-l-i-n-g-u-s, Oedipal Panties, Do Not Ejaculate for 24 Hours, Orion's Belt, Love in an Elevator


Warnings: This title contains graphic language, humorous situations, and smokin' hot sex!



It was the dog's fault.

That I was out until three in the morning was, perhaps, an issue, but I personally didn't feel my odd hours should really factor into the equation. Wouldn't any rational human being be bothered by the high pitched yelp of the Yorkie-gone-mad next door? Was it really just me? I couldn't be the only one considering playing my noise-ordinance card with the local authorities, could I?

Still, I didn't. I rolled around in bed, made sure the windows were shut completely, turned on two fans, the air conditioner, and covered my head with pillows, but that dog's little yap pierced through them all. Eventually, my lack of sleep started to affect my work.

Granted, bar tending wasn't brain surgery, and while the clientele didn't mind an occasional on-my-feet nod and subsequent heavy hand, Tilly, The Rusty Nail's owner, was going to catch on to me eventually. I knew it was getting bad when the sound of the blender could start to lull me to sleep.

And the most objectionable thing was, the Yorkie was adorable. When I yanked the drapes, ready to open the doorwall and go out on to the balcony in a fit of temper, there it was--the little canine seemed sure that it was his duty to run the perimeter of their privacy fence, barking nonstop all the while--but it was so cute, I just couldn't say anything.

In my limited experience of pets, I didn't know what calling the authorities would do. Did they take away barking dogs? I couldn't subject the animal to some ominous threat, no matter how much it yelped. The guilt of living with that wouldn't afford me any sleep, either, I reasoned--like some twisted Wizard-of-Oz version of the Tell-Tale Heart, I knew that little Toto-face would haunt me. I couldn't be the masculine version of the Wicked Witch of the West, as much as I wanted to when Barkapalooza began every morning at six.

Then, one day, there was no more barking ... and I didn't even realize it until I was singing in the shower some time around one in the afternoon, feeling blissfully rested and content. Frowning, I dried off and headed back to my darkened bedroom, wincing at the bright sunlight that poured into the room when I tugged the drapes back to look down into the neighbor's yard.

I was actually worried about the little guy. Was he sick? Were the neighbors on vacation? I didn't know much about my neighbors in the condo complex. The couple on the other side of me didn't have pets--that much I knew. On the Yorkie side, since I'd only seen the one woman, so I assumed she and the Yorkie were it.

When I opened my drapes, there was the neighbor, stretched out bare-assed on a chaise lounge--and what an ass it was!

Publication Date:
Nov 14 2008
1440432996 / 9781440432996
Page Count:
Binding Type:
US Trade Paper
Trim Size:
5.25" x 8"
Black and White
Related Categories:
Fiction / Erotica / General

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