The Top Drawer







The Top Drawer is a contemporary erotic romance novella about a focused grad student/part-time menswear salesgirl struggling to deny the attentions and temptations offered by two very sexy men.

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Read on for an excerpt.

The usual flurry of Friday morning business—chilled-out guys shopping for casual, weekend clothes, and stressed-out guys shopping for dressy, I-wish-I- didn’t-have-to-go-to-that-damn-dinner-party suits—never quite materialized. To an hourly sales person, a dearth of business like that might provide a welcome break, a time to breathe. But it was hard for Madison to relax when business was off. Working on straight commission, the dry spells would gnaw at her nerves, as if all her hopes and dreams were on the line.

Every few minutes Madison would glance at her watch, wishing time would stand still. She had yet to meet with a customer, and soon the store would be crowded with greedy, commissioned sales staff. If business didn’t pick up before the closing shift arrived at noon, her day could be a total bust—or, more accurately, a partial bust; Madison had at least banked some juicy, lurid images, thanks to Alex, his vivid imagination, and her sponge-like ability to retain such things. She looked forward to summoning them up during alone time, later.

Sure enough, just as Madison had envisioned, the closing crew came marching in, one behind the other—not one minute early, not one minute late. Madison found the procession uncanny, and eerie. James, the store’s assistant manager/sales lead entered first, followed by Ariana then Adam. The energy level of the store seemed to surge as the modestly dimensioned sales floor filled.

It took less than a minute for Ariana to happen by Wyatt and start flirting with him. Her clockwork pattern of superficial, sycophantic behavior never failed to amuse Madison. Ariana’s playful come-ons to Wyatt had become nothing more than a broken record of stale, tedious theatrical productions. She was such a good actress though, that Madison would sometimes imagine the two of them together, and smile at the thought. Ariana had nothing in common with Wyatt beyond their business relationship; where Wyatt was pretentious and dramatic, Ariana was brassy and shameless.

Both Wyatt and Ariana were attractive, yet their looks were not at all complementary. Wyatt’s appeal stemmed from his unchallenging, straightforward features: thick, short dark hair combed decisively across his evenly shaped head, authoritative brown eyes, sincere smile, and a slender, passable body—one mimosa away from decidedly doable. Ariana on the other hand was conspicuously complex, a hard to define dervish of a girl in her mid-twenties who refused to project a consistent façade. Her only predictable features were a pair of espresso- shaded lustful eyes, and a balanced set of fully blossomed breasts that floated high on her chest, as if freshly charged with helium. Madison wasn’t envious of Ariana’s boobs. They were, however, a constant reminder that hers were nothing beyond average.

“Hey, Madison, whatcha looking at?” Adam startled his coworker, whose arms abruptly jerked as if they belonged to a cheap marionette. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Madison turned toward Adam and gave him a cursory once over. “Don’t worry about it, Adam. I was just in another world for a minute.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Sure. It’s been really slow this morning. My mind tends to drift when it’s left in idle for too long. I’m fine.”

“Good. I mean, not about the lack of business. That’s never a good thing. But, I’m glad you’re fine. So, have any big plans for the weekend?”

“Yeah, huge plans. After work I go straight to my night class. Then, if I’m lucky, I’ll catch a few hours of sleep before I get to wake up and come back to work.”

“What about tomorrow night?”

“I’m sure I’ll fall asleep on the couch while deliberating what to microwave for dinner. What’s with all the questions, anyway?”

“Nothing. I was just wondering. Alright, since it’s so slow I’m going to head to the stockroom—see what’s new.”

As Adam walked away, Madison realized she’d just treated a good-natured associate to a thick slice of unnecessary whininess, or, more truthfully, bitchiness. She’d been sticking her foot in her mouth a lot lately, saying the wrong things, coming across the wrong way. She blamed her life, or lack of one, for these occasional bursts of unintentional harshness.

Madison’s eyes followed Adam’s slender frame as he strolled at a steady pace toward the stockroom. A diverting fog of fresh sandalwood and spice lingered in his wake, and she took a step forward to breathe in more. A sudden, overwhelming desire for something, anything between her legs hit her hard and fast.

It might have been the horniness Madison had closeted earlier in the day rearing its’ edgy little head. It might have been the scent of Adam—the scent of… sex, which triggered this flood of carnal desire. Or maybe it was just Adam. Maybe he turned her on more than she cared to admit. Whatever it was, the abrupt, aching hunger between her thighs was potent, and intense.

Madison continued to watch him as he walked from her, all six feet of underfed, adorable man, and wondered what combination of things were making her feel this way. She would not—could not—allow herself to fall for Adam, or any man for that matter. Not now. Besides, Madison reminded herself, he was taken. And if he were really the good man, the sweet man he portrayed when they were together, he wouldn’t be such a flirt. What if Madison had told him she had nothing to do over the weekend? Would he have asked her out? Definitely not a
cool move, Madison thought. Not that she was interested anyway.

“In Anyone Else’s Shoes”


In Anyone Else’s Shoes, M. L. Joslyn’s first erotic novella, reveals the sexy story of a cupcake-loving shoe store manager ready for some new high-heeled adventures.

Click here for more info.

Read on for an excerpt.

A wedge of moonlight landed in dashes atop the acid-etched, concrete floor of Untamed Soles, a trendy ladies’ shoe store on Scottsdale Road. With a large brass key, Emma locked the heavy front door behind Jan and Rachel, her hardest working part-timers, and then paced purposely to her office, scraping past freshly neatened steel-pipe display racks and a maze of black leather couches.

Mismatched pairs of slingbacks, and clipboards choked with redundant sales forms, clogged her tiny workspace at the back of the store. A single swivel chair and metal desk hogged most of the room. The top of the desk was exceptionally organised, like the rest of the store, and supported just five items: a telephone, legal pad, can of Diet Coke, a half-eaten red velvet cupcake, and a small, porcelain, heart shaped bowl crowded with business cards. Twenty minutes of paperwork, and I should be out of here, she thought. The phone warbled its urgent cry and Emma reached for it, knocking over her freshly opened soda.

‘Emma Green, manager, how may I help you?’

‘Hi Em-Em! Why aren’t you out of there yet?’

‘Alyssa, damn you! I just spilled my soda everywhere. Thanks. Not.’

‘I know you very well, Em. I’m guessing that isn’t the first thing you’ve spilled today.’

She was right, but Emma wasn’t about to divulge her first-rate chicken salad on a third-rate paper plate story. ‘Very funny, Alyssa. Why are you calling now anyway? Aren’t you anxious to get out of your store and into the arms of one of your stud muffin boy toys?’

‘I left my store 20 minutes ago, hon. What takes you so long? Oh, that’s right – everything has to be perfectly arranged and merchandised before you’ll set your poor employees free for the night.’

‘Maybe that’s why my store tends to look, you know, much better than yours. And I’m certain my work ethic has nothing to do with why my numbers are consistently higher than “Miss Alyssa’s Sorry I Can’t Find the Mate” shoe shack. And don’t start with the “your location is so much better than mine” routine.’

‘Oh, my dear, dear Em-Em. Aah. We have got to get you laid. And, by the way, we both manage Untamed Soles. They’re identical stores. The only possible reason my store’s sales aren’t as bonus-worthy as yours is that you have the primo spot, and that’s all I’m saying.’

‘Do you always have to sigh when you mention my personal life, Alyssa? I’m fine. I’ve always been fine. In fact, I’m crazy good. Now, cut it out.’

‘Now, that could be why your sales are superior to mine. You are an excellent bullshitter, Emma Green! C’mon, let me set you up with someone. They’ll be hot – I promise. You have got to get over that jerk, Ty.’

Emma was over Ty. At least, that’s what she’d tell herself when she bumped into him in their shared apartment. They had split up amicably a month ago, but he was never around, and they agreed it made no sense for them to break their lease. Two separate bedrooms, one separated couple. And besides, they were somehow able to maintain a semblance of a friendship, which included all the friendship perks – when he was around.

‘How many guys do you know, anyway?’ Emma asked derisively. ‘Do you keep a couple dozen neatly folded in your dresser?’

‘Yes! And that’s just my dresser!’