Heart of the Keys

is a personalized novel set in Key West, the US's "Southernmost City," that provides more than the usual excitement for the starring couple in this outrageous romantic romp.
     A love letter written in 1848 holds a secret that is known only to a wealthy businessman with ill intent and an unusual gentleman who enlists the aid of the hero and heroine to help foil the businessman's unsavory scheme. Colorful characters, picturesque sunsets and tropical settings serve as the backdrop for this tale of elusive love and everlasting romance.
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WILD excerpt

All excerpts in this column are done in the "WILD" version. Examples of personalization are in pink, such as man's and woman's names, cologne, eye color, etc.
    Through the etched-glass shower door, John watched Ann's every move as she lathered. He looked longingly at her as she put one foot on the bench in the shower stall to shave her legs. Her movements were relaxed, refined and sensuous. He finished drying off and wrapped the towel around his waist. It may be time to go to dinner, he thought, but the sight of her body makes me hungry in other ways. To express his appreciation of Ann's elegant silhouette, he whistled.
    Ann opened the shower door slightly and playfully posed like a model.
    John's hazel eyes twinkled. He felt a stirring in his loins. “I want you” was written all over his face.
    Ann winked and quickly closed the shower door.
    John realized that he was powerless to resist the urge. Instead of fighting it, he gave in. He dropped the towel on the floor and joined her.
    "What are you doing? Ann asked, though the evidence was clear.
    John took the small bar of soap and rubbed it in his hands until it turned into bubbly foam. Like a passionate sculptor, he ran his slippery fingers over Ann's shoulders, down her chest, around her beautiful breasts, and along her hips. He felt every nuance of her fabulous curves, and it drove him wild.
    Ann tilted her head back as John's nimble fingers caressed her electrified skin. Rivulets of water mingled with John's artful touch and amplified the sensual effect. She moaned her approval while creating her own frothy mitt with the shrinking soap. Then she became the artist, skillfully gliding her hands over John's masculine shape.
    The soap fell to the shower floor. They ignored it. Instead, they embraced and kissed while the spray rinsed their sexually-charged bodies. Then Ann guided John to a seated position on the tiled bench.
    The cool ceramic surprised him, but did not disrupt the mood of the moment.
    They positioned themselves for the final act in this steamy scene. Their performance was flawless, as if choreographed and directed by Hollywood's finest. What could have been awkward was handled with dexterity and resourcefulness. When it was over, and they stood panting under the showerhead, John turned the knob from warm to cool.
    The refreshing spray re-energized Ann. “That was amazing," she said.
    "No, you're amazing, Sweetheart," John remarked.
    Ann reached down and picked up the soap. "What's really amazing is that we didn't slip on this. Wouldn't that have been awful?"
    John framed in his mind a picture of he and Ann tangled together on the shower floor. "Yeah, we could have really hurt ourselves. I can hear the folks back at Wheeling Steel asking me, 'So how d you break your arm?' What would I say? 'Oh, I was having incredible sex in the shower with my Sweetheart and slipped on a bar of soap.'"

MILD excerpt

All excerpts in this column are done in the "MILD" version. Examples of personalization are in pink, such as man's and woman's names, cologne, eye color, etc.
    Through the etched-glass shower door, John watched Ann's every move as she lathered. He looked longingly at her as she put one foot on the bench in the shower stall to shave her legs. Her movements were relaxed, refined and sensuous. He finished drying off and wrapped the towel around his waist. It may be time to go to dinner, he thought, but the sight of her body makes me hungry in other ways. To express his appreciation of Ann's elegant silhouette, he whistled.
    Ann opened the shower door slightly and playfully posed like a model.
    John's hazel eyes twinkled. "I want you” was written all over his face.
    Ann winked and quickly closed the shower door.
    John realized that he was powerless to resist the urge. Instead of fighting it, he gave in. He dropped the towel on the floor and joined her.
    "What are you doing?” Ann asked.
    John took the small bar of soap and rubbed it in his hands until it turned into bubbly foam. Like a passionate sculptor, he ran his slippery fingers over Ann's shoulders, down her back, and along her hips. He felt every nuance of her fabulous curves, and it drove him wild.
    Ann tilted her head back as John's nimble fingers caressed her electrified skin. Rivulets of water mingled with John's artful touch and amplified the sensual effect. She moaned her approval while creating her own frothy mitt with the shrinking soap. Then she became the artist, skillfully gliding her hands over John's masculine shape.
    The soap fell to the shower floor. They ignored it. Instead, they embraced and kissed passionately while the spray rinsed their bodies. Finally, John turned the knob from warm to cool.
    The refreshing spray re-energized Ann. "That was amazing,” she said.
    "No, you're amazing, Sweetheart," John remarked.
    Ann reached down and picked up the soap. What's really amazing is that we didn’t slip on this. Wouldn’t that have been awful?
    John framed in his mind a picture of he and Ann tangled together on the shower floor. "Yeah, we could have really hurt ourselves. I can hear the folks back at Wheeling Steel asking me, 'So how'd you break your arm?' What would I say? 'Oh, I was having this incredible shower with my Sweetheart and slipped on a bar of soap.'"