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Vee (Volume 1)
Vee (Volume 1)
Vee (Volume 1)
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Vee (Volume 1)

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"Sylvia, my brightest star, my desire. My lust, my soul.

"She was Lia to her co-workers at the bookstore, Sylvia to her mother, who clicked her tongue disapprovingly at her bright blue and hair and her Monroe stud. But to me, she was simply Vee."

In Alex's notebooks, the story of Vee unfolds, from their first kiss, their first date, and the moments in between. It’s a May-December romance between a former punk girl gone conservative, and a gamine young woman in combat boots and fishnets. They find each other on the streets of New York City and it's love at first sight.

This is a short collection of stories, two of which have appeared in the FELT TIPS and ANYTHING SHE WANTS erotic anthologies.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 5, 2014
ISBN9781928098058
Vee (Volume 1)
Author

Alyssa Linn Palmer

Alyssa has many passions. Fortunately, none of them are prohibited. When she isn’t working, she’s writing dark tales inspired by mid-20th-century noir books and films, cooking up a storm in her kitchen, and reading.

Read more from Alyssa Linn Palmer

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    Book preview

    Vee (Volume 1) - Alyssa Linn Palmer

    Vee: Volume 1

    by

    Alyssa Linn Palmer

    ISBN: 978-1-928098-05-8

    Copyright 2013 Alyssa Linn Palmer

    Smashwords Edition

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    The stories Vee and Vee's Notebook originally appeared in the anthologies Felt Tips: Office-Supply Erotica, and Anything She Wants, respectively.

    "Sylvia, my brightest star, my desire. My lust, my soul.

    She was Lia to her co-workers at the bookstore, Sylvia to her mother, who clicked her tongue disapprovingly at her bright blue and hair and her Monroe stud. But to me, she was simply Vee.

    In Alex's notebooks, the story of Vee unfolds, from their first kiss, their first date, and the moments in between. It’s a May-December romance between a former punk girl gone conservative, and a gamine young woman in combat boots and fishnets, finding each other on the streets of New York City.

    This is a short collection of stories, two of which have appeared in the FELT TIPS and ANYTHING SHE WANTS erotic anthologies.

    Table of Contents

    Vee

    Heart of Glass

    Birdland (I)

    Birdland (II)

    Vee's Notebook

    Other Books by the Author

    Vee

    (originally released in FELT TIPS: Office-Supply Erotica, 2012, 8th Circle Press)

    Sylvia, my brightest star, my desire. My lust, my soul.

    She was Lia to her co-workers at the bookstore, Sylvia to her mother, who clicked her tongue disapprovingly at her bright blue hair and her Monroe stud. But to me, she was simply Vee.

    Before you start to think I’m some sort of pervert, let me assure you. Vee is no nymphet, for all that I wish I had the talent of Nabokov.

    She stood five-six in buckled combat boots that looked far too big for her gamine figure. Her driver’s license when she flashed it at me said twenty-one. I’d commented on what she must look like with her hair tamed and everyday. She’d showed me.

    I didn’t mind her rebellious looks. In truth, I preferred her with the blue spikes in her short hair, the dark violet lipstick, the piercings. My first had been a girl at CBGB’s, and I’d kissed her sloppily in the bathroom, my fingers catching in her lacquered hair, and on the safety pin stuck through her ear. She’d taken me home and fucked me thoroughly. From then on, I was hooked.

    Except it hadn’t lasted. Two weeks later I found her dead of an overdose, her lips blue and cold. Heroin.

    I still see her in my mind’s eye, ripped jeans hugging the curve of her ass, heavy combat boots, their laces dangling. She made the fire escape rattle, clambering up the steps to sit high and watch the sun rise. Her worn leather jacket, smelling slightly smoky, lay under us as we looked up at the sky.

    But here I am in my middle age, sneaking glances over the cash register from my spot by the notebooks, waiting for the moment when she’ll be free. The line at her till seems to stretch for a mile. Christmas.

    I wait, my hands clutching a pair of Moleskine notebooks, their shrink-wrapped covers slick against my palms. I love these notebooks. I love the feel of their smooth pages, the easy glide of my pen. I’m quite sure that Vee

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