The Death of Innocence is another story following the House Party Series of four novels, in which I act as a marriage counselor trying to fix Foxy after throwing her off the cliff.
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As past readers know, Foxy and Larry are fictional characters who somewhat mirror our real-life adventures as a swinger couple traveling through the world of wife swapping and non-stop orgies. When you talk about the components of a fictional story, it’s supposed to contain specific elements such as conflict and resolution.
To most people, conflict means throwing their shit out on the street and calling a divorce lawyer. Then, at the last minute, have make-up sex in the lawyer’s waiting room to the entertainment of other unhappy couples.
For me, as an author of erotic romance stories ripped out of the pages taken from a House Party, it’s hard to have conflict as swingers in general are happy with their other half. In our travels, we’ve only had 5-6 couples we knew who got divorced. And of that small list, two of the couples divorced and married the other’s partner, two of the remaining couples left their husband for another woman. Bottom line is that the divorce rate for straight couples is around fifty percent, yet in the lifestyle, it’s almost zero.
So, when I sit in front of my three 32-inch monitors, with an almost full-size image of my wife stretched across the screens, wearing only thigh-high striped socks, it’s hard to imagine a fight with her beyond who gets to get on top. But I need to have conflict and resolution. What’s a humble smut writer to do?
Swingers typically live by a set of rules that attempt to ensure everything is about sex and not love. I couldn’t bring myself to create a fight between us as our fights are generally where to eat supper and not how dare you fuck the next-door neighbor! So, I let my wife’s leash out a little as I’m the one with the keyboard.
In House Party, Foxy and Larry attend a house party, and Foxy becomes infatuated with a movie producer from LA. He abandons his wife with Larry, and Foxy returns to LA with him. In LA, Foxy learns that her new flame makes pornographic movies and decides to try out for a starring role. As an exhibitionist and ex-model, Foxy lives on adulation and is always the center of the action. So, porn star queen is right in her wheelhouse.
During the House Party series, Foxy is off in California making dirty movies and Larry is home collecting girlfriends. At the end of the House Party series, we find Foxy worried that she’s getting shoved off her side of the bed and attempts to return home.
The next several stories involve Foxy trying to clean up her act with varying success, which sets us up for The Death of Innocence.
The Death of Innocence begins with Sherry, Larry’s television journalist girlfriend, who is shooting a documentary on Larry Archer’s life and The Fox’s Den strip club he owns. They drive around Las Vegas as Sherry shoots B-roll footage for the exposé. Passing an elementary school, Foxy sees gunmen outside the school who don’t appear to be Metro police.
Born and raised on a farm in East Texas, Larry’s ingrained nature to protect innocent children drives him to react immediately. Telling Foxy to call 9-1-1, Larry takes his 9mm carry pistol to go against men carrying assault weapons.
Realizing this is bringing a knife to a gun fight, Foxy backs him up by grabbing a 12-gauge shotgun from the rear of the vehicle. Sherry, meanwhile, tells Angel to keep shooting video and calls the sheriff for help.
An intense gun battle erupts, and Larry is seriously wounded but manages to subdue the final gunman. In the melee, Foxy shoots one of the gunmen and watches him die in a puddle of blood at her feet with a blast of double-aught buckshot from her Mossberg 500 tactical shotgun.
Foxy, who has lived under Larry’s wing from the age of twenty, suddenly has to deal with brutally killing someone and trying to accept the responsibility for such an act, justified or not.
Before the shooting, Foxy was attempting to deal with her slutty behavior with limited success. Her trips to the psychiatrist, only resulted in getting her brains fucked out but little done to resolve her poor choice of actions.
During Foxy’s few quiet moments, the Boatman would appear out of the mist with his load of tortured souls bound for Hell. Cackling, he would point to the empty seat on the boat which was reserved for her and her slutty ways. The Boatman terrified Foxy even as she realized he was not real. Foxy realized the bad things she’d done to their relationship and was convinced that she’d end up on a one-way ticket to the underworld.
In The Death of Innocence, we find the eternal struggle between good and evil, sweet and slutty, as Foxy and Larry attempt to reconcile their past and become a loving couple once again even while they both have friends with benefits to merge into the relationship.
This book is another attempt to bring Foxy back into the fold, and hopefully, it will succeed.
Like most of Larry’s stories, it is available in electronic, paperback, and audiobook formats.
The current paperback cover is shown below. If it’s not apparent, the image is of the book’s cover if you open and spread the book out face down. The image is the back, the spine, plus the front cover. The white box is for the bar codes, which are added by the printer, but this should give you an idea of how the outside of the book looks.
I’m Larry Archer, a writer of erotic narratives for those eager and interested. Alongside my partner Foxy, we’re active swingers, and I draw inspiration from our real-life experiences. My tales often delve into themes of swinging, unicorns, Hotwives, and cuckoldry. While this lifestyle isn’t suited for everyone, it has been fun. My work is explicit and intense, yet often woven with a semblance of a plot. Larry Archer’s adult fiction is typically upbeat and entertaining, reflecting the fun we’ve found in swinging. You can see my stories on most popular platforms. Larry’s erotic romance novels are offered in digital, paperback, and audiobook formats.
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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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