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eBook Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Romance EPPIE Award Finalist, Romantic Times Top Pick
eBook Description: RTBookClub Magazine Top Pick for January, 2008! At some point, virtually everyone's life is touched in some way by breast cancer. Whether it's a friend or family member, or even yourself, the journey is one of courage and compassion. Phaze continues its tradition of fundraising for this cause with Coming Together: For the Cure, an anthology of quality erotic fiction edited by Alessia Brio. All proceeds from the sale of this volume will benefit the Susan G. Komen Foundation.

eBook Publisher: Phaze, Published: 2007
Fictionwise Release Date: August 2007

This eBook is part of the following series:

• Alessia Brio's Erotic Cocktail Series

8 Reader Ratings:

Great	Good	OK	Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [303 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [255 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [266 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [835 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [300 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [244 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [313 KB] , hiebook (KML) [658 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [330 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [248 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [308 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [340 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [409 KB]
Words: 92814
Reading time: 265-371 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 9781594269301

"Few things reveal character as immediately and profoundly as the way someone makes love. And since the best stories are always character driven, what better way to get to know the players than by the way they make love? Call it erotic fiction if you like--it certainly is erotic--but once you get past the heat and the breathlessness, you'll see these stories for what they really are: tales of the intensely private, the palpably real, the profoundly human."--Barry Eisler, NYT Bestselling Author

Once upon a time, I hated my tits. Loathed them with a passion bordering on obsession. I envied girls with pert, perky breasts even as I acknowledged that teeny tiny boobs would completely unbalance my figure. My hips needed their substantial neighbors to the north. Without a full set of knockers, my broad backside would overwhelm my frame. Even so, I hated them.

I wanted to go braless without causing automobile accidents, without drawing stern glances from holier-than-thou church ladies, without having my chest addressed as if it'd achieved sentience. I wanted to be able to jog without pain. I wanted freedom from underwires.

I wanted these things before I even turned fourteen.

In the seventh grade, between Mrs. Platt's third period social studies class and Mr. Wilson's fourth period math class, my tits erupted from the unbroken landscape of my torso. Just like that. I swear it seemed that sudden. I don't recall ever wearing a bra smaller than a C cup.

Billy Robinson was the first boy I allowed to touch them. What he lacked in finesse, he made up for in height. As the only one of my classmates taller than I, although barely so, he received the bulk of my nascent sexual attentions.

I didn't consider it a big deal, really. I simply considered it something to endure. He, on the other hand, considered it so big a deal that he told Tommy Crawford who told Keith Gallagher who told the entire locker room after gym class on a fateful Friday afternoon in October.

By Monday morning, I was the biggest slut ever to attend Edgewood Middle School.

By Monday afternoon, I wanted to die.

My tits were nothing but trouble.