Autumn Sonata - October Newsletter

**Changes**

When I was younger, there were things I couldn't be bothered with--vegetables, chocolates, my evening bath. Now, there are few pleasures sweeter to me than a slice of German chocolate cake, the dark, slightly sweet pastry with its silky-on-the-tongue coconut frosting and a maraschino cherry glistening on top.

Change is not only a sign of time passing, it is a sign of progress, of life moving forward, like a river, washing away the old, and bringing in the new.

My writing is changing. The things I want to explore are changing. Life is moving forward.

And tonight, after a dinner of vegetable stir-fry and tofu, I will lay back in my evening bath with a slice of German chocolate cake and think about how far I've come.

** Writing Workshop**

In Association with A.I.M.

Feeding the Hunger Within:
A Creative Writing and
Publishing How-to Workshop

Saturday, October 24, 2008 – 2:00 PM until 5 PM

The first half of the workshop will be dedicated to the craft and task of writing while the second will address publishing and the different routes to get a story to an audience.

Bring a pen, notebook, and your inquiring mind.

To make a deposit and reserve your space, contact Fiona at f.zedde@gmail.com.

Cost: $30 or $20 for A.I.M. Members

**Signings, Appearances, and Book Discussions**

Friday, October 9 – Sunday, October 11, 2009

Fire and Ink Cotillion
Austin, Texas

Saturday, October 17, 2008
9:00 PM until 3:00 AM
Good Luck Café
Ybor City, Tampa

Saturday, October 24, 2008
2:00 PM until 5 PM
Feeding the Hunger Within – A creative writing
and Publishing How-To Workshop

The first half of the workshop will be dedicated to the craft and task of writing while the second will address publishing and the different routes to get a story to an audience.

Bring a pen, notebook, and your inquiring mind.

To make a deposit and reserve your space, contact Fiona at f.zedde@gmail.com.

Cost: $30 or $20 for A.I.M. Members

**Hot Shorts**

“Fast”

Bridgette Peoples thought that when death came, it would be quick—the slam of steel and metal, brakes screaming, burnt rubber steaming on the pavement, a searing fire. But she was wrong.

Jette drove her cars fast and liked her women even faster. She loved it when they curled into her body on hairpin turns, trembling in fear at the quick downshift and the feral snarl on her lips. She didn’t believe in a speed limit.

“Slow down, Jette,” her date squeaked from the passenger seat.

The girl’s long brown legs were taut against the floor as if searching for the brakes to stop the 1968 Shelby GT 350 Mustang convertible herself. Still, her breath came quickly and her nipples were hard against the thin cotton shirt.

"It’s alright, honey.” Jette called them ‘honey’ because she always forgot their names. “I know what I’m doing.”

The speedometer inched up to ninety-five and the girl’s legs widened. Jette grinned. It was almost time. Wind pounded into the open convertible from all sides. When a soft whimper of fear leaked from the girl’s mouth, the car reached one hundred.

The coastline beyond the Mustang was a blur of trees, electric sky, and blue-green water. Jette abruptly dropped into fourth gear. Then third. In a whirlwind of gravel and sand, she stopped the car.

Suddenly it was just her and the honey. The growl of the Mustang’s engine and the girl’s rapid breath kicked her pulse into overdrive. Jette could smell the girl.

“I’m sorry I scared you.” She wasn’t.

Jette went for her, climbing over to the passenger seat. The girl met her halfway, lips parted, wet, and ready; her hands already sliding under Jette’s leather jacket.

Long legs opened to receive and Jette’s fingers slipped quickly between them, past the barrier of shorts and panties to bury themselves in paradise. With her other hand, she shoved the seat back, giving herself more room to move. The girl squirmed, gasped, panted as Jette tongued her nipples through the white cloth, bathing the straining flesh beneath. The windows fogged.

Jette’s clit throbbed harder with every gasp the girl released, with each pull of the girl’s wetness on her fingers. The honey’s bare thighs trembled. Her hips bucked in the sweat-slick leather seats and her naked foot slid against the windshield in quick, staccato squeaks.

“Let it go, honey,” Jette hissed.

The girl flung her head back and howled at the sun. Twenty minutes later, Jette dropped her off and sped away in a blur of blue.

[to be continued]

**First published in VA-VA-VOOM: Red Hot Lesbian Erotica. Edited by Astrid Fox, 2005.

**Fiona on the Web and Online**

www.fionazedde.com
www.myspace.com/zedde
www.twitter.com/fionazedde
www.fionazedde.blogspot.com
www.facebook.com/fiona.zedde