Risqué Book One

Tick tock, tick tock . . .

It was the countdown to the start of my summer. Two-plus months to do as I pleased, without having to worry about obeying the blaring sound of an alarm clock. Now, I love my second graders. They’re some of the best little people, ever. But, hey . . . Mama needs a break.

And it’s not even like I had some elaborate plans. No trips to paradise, no exotic rendezvous with a sexy man. None of that. I wish, but no. Being a divorcee and an empty nester, my summers weren’t the most exciting. They consisted of lounging around, catching up on my shows, some liquor here, some adult toy action there. Basically, hanging out . . . with me. And I was so ready to be at one, with my solitude.

But then there was the box.

Imagine my surprise when I get home and there’s a box waiting for me at my front door. Its wrapping beautiful, the size kind of big. Initially, I was sure that it was for one of my neighbors; that it had been dropped off at my address by accident.

But then there was a note:

“Time for Recess. No supervision. No bells. No rules. Can you handle it?”

And that’s when I knew that my summer was about to be anything but the norm. That’s if I chose to accept the invitation…