SEX Unlimited: Volume 1 (Unlimited #1) by Kathryn Perez Page A

alone. It felt like a tomb holding the skeletons of our love. So I moved into this quaint little three bedroom Tudor house tucked back onto a small secluded lot and I love the privacy. I still catch myself reminiscing about my life with James, but I quickly push the memories away. I can’t think about the past if I ever want a happy future.
     

    P ouring my third cup of coffee, I try to forget my failed marriage and focus on work. Work is all I have left these days. Thank goodness there’s more than enough of it to go around. The indie self-publishing market has blown up and editors have wait lists a mile long. My schedule is booked up for the next eight months straight without any breathing room. I like it that way though. It gives me zero time to wallow in self-pity. My phone buzzes to life and I see that it’s Dawn, my most demanding client. She just sent me her manuscript two days ago and she’s already calling. Rolling my eyes, I put some fake pep in my voice as I answer.
     
    “Good morning, Dawn. What can I do for you?”
     
    “Candace dear, I was just calling to see how the edits were going. I emailed you last night and hadn’t heard back from you yet so I thought I would give you a ring,” she says in her most annoying high pitched voice. This woman seriously drives me crazy but I put up with her because she’s one of my longest standing clients and she writes like a freight train. Last year alone she wrote seven full-length novels. Dawn pays the bills, so I put up with her constant badgering.
     
    “Yes, Dawn I have your manuscript. I will start on it tonight. I should have it to you within the next seven to ten days if that works for you.”
     
    “Hmmmmm, over a week. I was hoping for sooner, but it is longer than usual so I suppose I can wait it out.”
     
    I grit my teeth incessantly and wish I could ask her if she has any idea how hard it is to edit a one hundred thousand plus words manuscript in under a week. It’s nearly impossible unless she wants a shoddy job done.
     
    “Okay, I’m glad you’re flexible. I should probably get to it though.”
     
    “All right, dear. I’ll give you a ring in a week. Ciao.”
     
    I hang up the phone and open my laptop. Over a hundred new emails pop up and I scan through them, trying to decide what’s priority and what isn’t. Skimming through, I see an email from MatchYouUp.com and I almost want to laugh out loud. Do they know it’s my divorce anniversary or something? The subject line is ‘Are you ready to make that leap of faith again?’. I hover over the email with my cursor, ready to press delete, and then, for some reason, I open it.
     
    What the hell? It’s not like I’m actually going to make a profile or anything. I’m just curious.
     
    I’m instantly taken to the main website and smacked in the face with singles galore. Everyone seems to be looking for love, marriage and babies. Babies … now there is a subject I hate to even think about. The day I told James the doctor said children weren’t possible for me was the day I   witnessed his love for me beginning to drain. Slowly but surely a wedge was formed between us and I was never able to fix it. He wanted children so badly and my body had let him down. Shaking the thought away, I bring my attention back to the screen. So many little icons of faces and names.
     
    Meeting Mr. Right on a site like this seems silly and inconceivable to me. Not that I’m looking for that, because I’m not. It’s been a year since I felt the touch of a man or the embrace of strong arms, but a relationship is just not something I want at this juncture in my life. I’m thirty-six years old and I’m set in my ways. I like my life of solitude. Only thing is, I do think about sex. A lot. I’ve always been a very sexual woman, and I’ve always loved sex. James and I had a fantastic love life. Sex between us was never one of our problems. We did it well and we did it often.
     
    I miss the sensation of