Veronica's Erotica

Tasty Taboo & Raunchy Romance

The official website of Veronica Sloan, writer of dirty books. If you enjoy steamy stories, explicit affairs, and taboo tales, she's probably got something for you.

A cautionary tale of lesbian lust!

Did you enjoy your Thanksgiving, my dirty darlings? Here’s a delightful piece of dessert! It’s a short lesbian tale from the 1930s involving a hysterical wife and a naughty widow...

See, all Hubert wanted was an obedient wife that could zip her lip and be a pretty little homemaker. His Minnie sure is pretty, but she's as obedient as a feral cat! Declaring his wife hysterical, Hubert takes her to the one woman that can cure any headstrong dame. Little does he know, Mrs. Wilson has zero interest in "fixing" Minnie and every intention of awakening her lesbian lust!

Short and sweet, this book is 10,000 words and is available from Smashwords for 25% off its $2.99 price tag. Enjoy!

EXCERPT:

Minerva winced. Faye winced back. "So, yeah. There was a Mr. Wilson, but he was as mister as I am, if you catch my drift. He needed a cute, bright-eyed girl who didn't speak the language too good and wouldn't ask too many questions. I looked great on his arm at all the fancy shindigs, but those were few and far between. In the meantime, girl's gotta have a hobby. There's a lot of books in this piece."

"How did he die?" Minerva asked.

"There is some debate on that matter. He either fell off his yacht or he swam to Cabo with an adorable smuggler named Ernesto. God bless him either way because, in the end, little miss Gustafsson finally made good. I got the estate, the Wilson name, and a legacy of damaged dames to rehabilitate. I offer 'Mrs. Wilson's Cure for Headstrong Ladies and Hysterical Wives,' a new and improved version of my husband's 'innovative' treatments. Which, for the record, was mostly shock therapy and a few even less appealing notions."

"But you said the cure is..."

Faye tapped out her ashes in the ashtray, a beautiful smirk on her bright red lips. "Bullshit. And it is. But I do have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Minerva snorted. "I just can't believe it's all a conspiracy. There are testimonies. I've read the stories of couples who swear you made them happier. The papers love you. They call you the Aphrodite of the Pacific."

"Isn't that nifty!" she said.

"What are you doing to these women?" Minerva demanded.

"You make it sound so nefarious!" she laughed. "I do a few things, but mostly I listen. In those cases, the 'cure' is just mind over matter. A wife wants someone to tell her she's getting a raw deal. She wants to know that her anger doesn't qualify her for the bug house. It doesn't make the anger go away but it keeps her from balling up, helps her fool the husband for a few more years."

"I know my deal," Minerva growled. "I don't need you telling me how raw it is."

"Mm," Faye hummed. "I had a feeling about you when I saw you coming up the walk."

"And what feeling is that?"

"That you might have some venomous semen that needs relieving."

"I most certainly do not!" Minerva gasped. She kicked out the chair as she stood up and tried to stomp away. The room was rather small, however, and her way was impeded by the strange piece of furniture with the bleached leather cushions. She managed to squeeze her way between that contraption and her overturned seat and got halfway to the door--despite her violent shaking--when she felt Faye's hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," the woman said calmly. "I was excited to talk to you and I ran my mouth off. I have a tendency to do that."

Minerva glared at the woman over her shoulder. "And why were you so excited?"

"Pretty girls with dumb husbands do that to me."

Minerva was sure she didn't know what the woman was talking about. "Could you let me go? I just want to get away. If you say I escaped...told Hubert I got out of the house...then I could live here, in Los Angeles. I don't care what I'd have to do, I just can't be with him anymore."

"Why?"

"Because I don't love him. He's not a bad man. He's a stupid man but he's not evil. I thought I could love him. Daddy said I would. But I don't."

"Why?"

"Stop asking me why!" Minerva screamed. "You've said yourself there is no cure. There is nothing you can give me to make me love him, no magic potion. So you say I must live with him or resign myself to...poisoned semen."

Cautiously, Faye drew her fingers along the girl's jaw and tilted her face up. "There are other options available to you," she said. "If you're keen to learn."

"What can I learn in a day?" the girl sniffed.

"Oh, doll, I don't need that much time."