Kira A. Gold

“she came out—dancing around in a white shirt with nothing underneath, the rosy coins of her nipples visible under the thin fabric—asking for a wood saw and spackle, he’d been jumpy as a jackrabbit sniffing Easter candy. He could have looked in the bedroom when she left to sleep, to go to Brass and Bones, to go wherever sex-witch art-fairies go. She came back every day with packages from the Indian import store, bags from the pagan crystal shop, boxes that smelled like incense and old wood. But he didn’t look because deep down he liked the mystery, that a woman had claimed a space in the house he’d designed, made it hers to reveal on her terms.”
― Kira A. Gold, The Dirty Secret

“She’d been dressed in her sleep shirt and nothing underneath, hair piled on her head, eyes messy and dark and...and...and sultry, as if a bed was too boring to hold her.”
― Kira A. Gold, The Dirty Secret