In HE the unnamed protagonist, a law student, is involved with a series of women who either loathe him, try to poison him, save his life or exploit him sexually. The first is the nanny of his ex boss’ kid. She sends him a hateful letter, enclosing a pubic hair and rubbed with pheromones. After observing a woman in a coffee shop whose breasts are ‘freaks of nature’ she leaves a briefcase and departs. He’s unsuccessful in returning it to her, but this karmic event exposes him to a bevy of dangerous and seductive paramours.
Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qiZA1Ps10F8
DO NOT BE ALARMED. I would never give away your cloying secrets. But don't kid yourself; I know who you are.
You see, I've seen you staring at me in the foyer when I come to take charge of Sisco on Saturday mornings. Your hazel eyeballs have given you away. Don't think I don't get IT. I've noticed how your eyes hover over me, darting around my body like a laser. Picked up on your malingering stare. (I caught you eyeing my butt one day when I left the bathroom door open to tease my hair. Mirrors do reflect in case you didn't know.) When you do acknowledge me (if you do at all), your retinas hover around my chest instead of making eye contact. OMG! Do you think I'm that much of a dumb blonde? Really...
So in deference to the fact that you will never, ever have me, I am sending you these tokens of esteemlessness. (1) Since you would no doubt like to run your gruff fingers through my saintly pubic hairs (not to mention your liar's tongue), I have sent you one (enclosed). And (2) since you'd love to use your sizable nose to sniff me in luscious places I have rubbed certain of my pheromones on special spots (UR, LL) so that you may inhale (which is as much as you can ever hope for) (just the thought of you turns my tummy icky) the essence of my sensuality. Enjoy...
Misha T, the babe
P.S. I'm even hotter than your pathetic, perverted little mind could ever imagine.
Turning the envelope upside down, something fell out. Hesitant to exhale, lest it vanish, he pulled a small magnifying glass from his desk drawer and examined the specimen. There it was, a curly fury of blackness culled from the mine of her smoky mound.
Stephan Morsk is a mental health professional who writes daily. He won a 7th and an 8th place in the Writer’s Digest competition 2001 out of a field of 19,000 writers. He has published a short story and won honorable mentions in other years. His web site morsklitmonthly.com offers a new short story each month. He is interested in novellas and recently submitted “Parrot Moon” to the Paris Literary Prize. He’s finished several other short books, part of a four part series including “HE”, “Trashy Novel-A Love Story”, “She” and “I”. He lives in rural Minnesota with his family. Favorite novelist, Normal Mailer. He enjoys exercise and is a reasonable amateur magician.