My latest Foxy and Larry adventure, The Death of Innocence, is now available everywhere and in all forms. Electronic versions are perfect for your cell phone, tablet, iPad, laptop, or desktop. Grab the paperback version if you want to give your other hand something to do.
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The story is doing pretty well for just being out for a few days. Its Amazon Best Sellers Rank is 300 – 400, depending on the category, and it is selling well.
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I’m Larry Archer, a simple writer of smut stories in both print, electronic, and audiobook formats. Foxy and I are swingers in real life, and I write about the things we do and see. While the Lifestyle is not for everyone, it’s been fun for us. My smut is explicit and hardcore but with a somewhat plot. My porn stories are generally positive and fun as this reflects how enjoyable swinging has been to us. If you’re interested in checking out my stories, I publish at all the typical outlets.
A Snippet from The Death of Innocence
Below is the beginning of a chapter where Foxy and Linda, the club manager of The Fox’s Den, are going to party with Foxy’s college boy toys when Linda gets called back inside the club.
Foxy waited in her silver Mercedes, her finger tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel before she caught herself. She rarely allowed herself to be frustrated, but the anticipation gnawed at her. Linda was taking forever. Just as they were sliding into the low-slung sports car, one of the security people had a question for the statuesque brunette, leaving Foxy alone in the parking lot. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind. She took a deep breath, and that’s when she heard the muffled oars and the splashing water.
“I’m patient, Foxy, but don’t think I’ll wait forever,” a haunting voice echoed in her ears. The boatman. His grotesque boat full of corpses drew close to her out of the mist. The nauseating stench of death filled her nose as the skeletal figure appeared from the ethereal vapor. His tattered rags barely clung to his bony frame, and his rotten teeth twisted into a hideous smile. “What a tangled little web you weave,” he said in a mocking tone. “I see you! You’ve witnessed death and taken lives with your lily-white hands, thinking you’re so much better than common rapists and thugs.” He looked at her with hollow eyes, knowing her darkest secrets.
“Go away! Leave me alone,” Foxy cried, her body trembling. “I only did what had to be done.”
His wicked laughter cut through her like a knife as he pointed to the empty seat on his repulsive boat bound for hell. “That spot is reserved for you and your slutty ways,” he taunted. “But I’ll let you twist in the wind for a while longer as I wait for the perfect moment to take you.”
Cackling like a crazed witch from a Halloween movie, the boatman turned his ghostly craft and vanished into the swirling mist, which seemed as ominous as him.
“Foxy! What’s happened? You’re white as a sheet and crying. I’ll call security,” Linda said as she climbed back into the car, her arms instantly going around the suddenly fragile brunette. Her voice was frantic as she looked around to see who could scare the bitch queen, but no one was near Foxy’s car. The parking lot spun with chaos, but the strange vision had vanished.
Looking outside, Linda saw Virginia standing by the entrance. “Virginia, call security!” She yelled, her voice piercing the confusion.
Instantly, an alarm bell sounded, and within seconds, armed men burst out of unmarked doors on either side of the club’s entrance. In less than a minute, men with body armor and automatic weapons surrounded Foxy’s vehicle like a fortress of flesh and steel. The club’s front door almost flew off its hinges as Tiny burst through with Jack and Steve hot on his heels. The six-foot-four grizzly bear sprinted to Foxy with his gun looking like a toy in his massive paws. He flung himself on top of her, shielding her from any possible danger without a thought for his own life.
“I’ve got you!” Tiny growled, sounding like gravel being poured out of a bucket. “No one hurts you on my watch!” His huge body filled the car as he covered hers.
Foxy heard the snap of Steve’s M4 as he pulled the charging handle and let it go to load a cartridge into the chamber. He stood outside Foxy’s door like a sentinel, scanning the crowd with his back to the car. Jack, the ordinarily calm head of security, rapidly looked around the parking lot with his hand under his sports coat. His two decades of experience as a homicide detective automatically kicked in to protect Foxy as he ran scenarios in his mind.
“It’s okay, everyone calm down,” Foxy’s muffled voice came from under Tiny, whose two hundred and sixty pounds kept her pinned in the car seat. “Get off me, Tiny!”
Tiny didn’t move as he gathered Foxy up in his muscled arms. “Jack, is everything okay?” He asked. Foxy knew that Tiny would never let her up, no matter what she said, if he thought there was any possible threat to her. It was like being held in the arms of a benevolent yet protective grizzly bear.
Jack spoke into his sleeve and nodded as he listened to the voice in his earpiece. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he said, “Tiny, let Foxy up. There is no threat.”
“Are you sure, Boss?” Tiny asked, his voice unconvinced. “I’ll carry Foxy into the club and have Steve cover us.”
“They have just reviewed the parking lot tapes, and no one was around her car beyond the valets and Linda,” Jack explained. “Foxy, let’s get you inside and sort this out.”
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