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JACK IN THE BOX (factual fiction / sexual astrology / semi-erotic)

jack in the box

Jack in the Box ($2.99)

BUY: Amazon (US) | Amazon (UK)

B&N | Smashwords (multiple formats)

Google Play

Title = Mature Audience


Summary: A sensuous business acquaintance breaks Drea's stale fixation with her first love, Jack.

Dedication: For my friends, readers/customers, enemies, fellow Venus
Scorpios, and "Nir"--thank you.

* This novella features in the short story collections, AFF (Asian Factual Fiction), and Primal Scream (full anthology).

LENGTH: 17,000 words

* * *

Tone of this story = plot > porn (via an epistolary and 'sexual-astrological' perspective).

P.S. Grammatical and other inconsistencies are due to artistic license.

* Enters Amazon Bestseller List!
(#50 in Kindle eBooks > Psychology > Sexuality | April 2011)

* Mentioned on Word Riot!
("Notes From Elsewhere" | August 2013)

* * *


"I read (Jack in the Box), which I loved. I am looking forward to the other stories. You are not obscene as far as I can see. You write about emotion and you capture it and convey it beautifully. You have something very original and very contemporary."
-- customer email, March 2011 (from U.K.)

"This is not your run-of-the-mill erotic fiction. Jess C Scott has invented a new genre. That's worth 5 of anybody's stars, isn't it?"
-- Review @ Vanessa Wu | Intense Sensations

"'s one thing to learn about your woman's past, and it's quite another to be put right there. It was really good writing, Jess. I know because I had to run from it. I can barely think of another moment when I ever had to do that. I don't run. I choose my battles, sure; but I don’t run. I had to rush through the last ten pages like they were on fire, grasping the meaning and avoiding as many details that would put me there as I possibly could, feeling that the end couldn't come soon enough. Details can be harsh! It was one hell of an experience. I love you regardless."
-- private message, Dec 2012 (Mystery Man)

* * *


She felt the cold blast from the sterile air conditioning on her bare arms and thighs, as she ambled down the center of the shopping complex's ground floor. The scene was a swirl of candy bright lights--the Victoria's Secret fuchsia signboard, signboards which lured one to purchase "confidence," or "sexual appeal," or whatever it was that was being advertised--the fluorescent lights in each store, contrasting with the shiny, black-tiled walls and eye-catching speckled marble tiles on the ground.

One could lick the floor--the tiles were spotless, clean like the fake air she was breathing in, like the atoms and cells in her that were decaying in stale neglect.

"Miss…what brand of facial wash do you use?" a cool, level voice asked, breaking through the little bubble Drea was encapsulated in. She heard the words in drifts and drabs--"Miss" and "facial" were the only ones she heard clearly.

Miss Facial…

A young man had appeared, and was standing next to her, quite near to her. He had entered her personal space without even trying. Drea's mind and spirit were so dead and desensitized, that her entire being engaged the well-groomed, pleasant, and easy-to-look-at figure before her. He was a hint of a breath of fresh air/oxygen--and she was happy to take it, even if it lasted for just a second.

It didn't matter that he was a salesman. Anyone with half a brain knew that a salesperson had to be slick to be able to do their job well. But Drea was starved for some attention and open interaction. She saw the figure as a good-looking young, suave, and confident man first and foremost, and as a salesperson, a faraway second.

* * *

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