Indie Book Collective Novels & Stories

A text from an unknown number. *Dear Dr. Zanetti, I'm Clara Benson, Senior Editor at Meridian Books. I read your thesis abstract online and was incredibly impressed. I'd love to discuss the possibility of publishing it as a monograph. Are you free for a coffee next week?* Keira stared at the screen, her heart hammering. Meridian Books. One of the most respected independent publishers in the UK, known for their beautifully produced academic titles and their commitment to emerging voices. They'd published books she'd cited in her thesis. Books that had shaped her thinking.

The thought made her pulse quicken, like she was holding a secret that wasn’t meant to be found. She hesitated only a moment before sitting cross-legged on the floor and flipping the cover open. Inside, in messy handwriting, was a title scrawled across the first page: “Collected Stories — From Women, For Women.” Chloe blinked. The handwriting was feminine, rushed, and almost secretive. She turned the page and read the introduction, scrawled in looping letters:

It transforms the adventure through my collection into something truly extraordinary! ASIN: B0DQ81GWJC ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to my talented art designer, Rebekah, for the stunning digital paintings, that you can find on my P*******t page just by searching Unusualdee, and the beautiful book cover. A special thanks goes to Light and Gem for their invaluable feedback as my Beta readers. I also deeply appreciate all the other wonderful members of the SBAR (Smut Book Avid Reader) club for their unwavering support throughout the journey of compiling these smut stories. Your encouragement means the world to me.

Now, finally, I had something. I found them in the spaces between public records. The shell companies that owned shell companies. The donations routed through untraceable channels. The board memberships that overlapped in patterns too consistent to be coincidence. On paper, these people had nothing to do with each other. In reality, they'd been building something together for decades. The Collective wasn't a organization with a headquarters and a newsletter. It was a web. Invisible until you knew how to look. And once you looked, you couldn't unsee it.

Even though I had received enough cock, reading this stirred my inner whore. The sound of the door creaking open made me gulp down the invisible lump in my throat as I closed the book and shove it aside. Christian I watched him strode in with a smile and with a bag of snacks in his hands. My eyes sparkled immediately as I sat up. “Wow, that’s a lot. Are all of these for me?” I asked as I rose to grab everything. He chuckled softly. “Not just you, Sarah. It’s for all of us. Have you forgotten we normally have a family hangout every Friday night?” He asked, and my words stuck in my throat.