Sensuality Singles™
Seduction’s Sun
By Laura Dawn Lewis
What People Are Saying About Sensuality Volume One:
“Sensuality is an Understatement!”
February 15, 2003, Amazon Review
“Caught me off guard! Forget having Blockbuster night, go for a Sensuality night but good luck making it to the end of a story without getting distracted if your wife is in the room. Women can write like this? Trust me, pictures are not needed. The author's words put you right in the action and how she knows what men experience? How did she do that? How could she do that! I swear she was man in a former life. The third story Midnight is a man's ultimate dream...I definitely want one of those. The last story is incredible, worked that scenario on my wife and she coming back for more, literally. This is class, something you have no problem sharing with a woman. It says volume one. Does that mean a two is on the way?”
“Perfect for sharing intimacy over long distances”
Amazon Review, January 20, 2003
“I'm terribly shy and Miss Lewis' vivid imagery and writing provided some intimate moments for my husband and I while he was away on business for three months. The author has an incredible ability to enable a woman to understand what a man thinks, sees and hears sexually and vice versa. Most erotica I don't like because it is so crass. Sensuality isn't. It's beautifully written, visual and covers both relationship and sexuality issues and provides a great little script and steady build-up for phone flirting or anything else you want to do to start the evening on a passionate note! I can't wait to read my husband volume two!”
"Imaginative & Stimulating!"
"The scenarios are imaginative, unique and appealing. Each story provides a good build-up followed by stimulating sexual situations that are explicit enough to be arousing, but not too hardcore to be intimidating--or worse, offensive."
Amber M.:
About.com Guide to Straight Women's Erotica
"Very Compelling...This is good stuff!”
“Miss Lewis' words and images are VERY compelling. This is very good stuff!!!!!"
Dr. William Saleeb:
Author and English Professor, UCLA
“Couldn’t Put it Down!”
"I read the whole book in one sitting and couldn't put it down! I was reluctant to read it and figured I would read just one story. I read the whole book in one sitting and couldn't put it down! This is excellent!"
Carlos Darquea:
Former VP Marketing, Victoria's Secret
Sensuality Volume One™
Bedtime Stories for Adults™
By Laura Dawn Lewis
Smashwords Edition
ISBN # 0-9671042-8-9 Paperback Edition, Released 2010
ISBN # 978-1-4524-9909-3, Smashword Edition, Released 2010
ISBN # 0-9671042-0-3 Electronic Edition, Released 2003
Sensuality Volume Two
ISBN:#145-38-5488-6; EAN: 9781453854884, Paperback Edition
ISBN #978-1-4524-4775-9, Smashwords Edition, Released 2010
ISBN # 0-9671042-7-0, Electronic Edition, Released 2003
Couples Company, Inc.
4320 S. Centinela Blvd
Los Angeles, CA. 90066
public@couplescompany.com
Copyright © Couples Company 1996-2010
All Rights Reserved.
For private personal use only.
No portion of this book may not be reproduced or distributed in part or in whole without the explicit consent of Couples Company. Sensuality is fiction. Though locations mentioned may exist, the stories, characters and situations described are purely fictional. Any similarities to persons living or dead are coincidental.
SEDUCTION’S SUN
White lace ushered in the morning breeze through a half opened window, filtering the sunlight as it scattered across Claudia’s face. Half awake she lay motionless basking in the fact that though early waking could wait. Above her head, the coarse lace brushed quietly against the sill, its gentle friction whispering to the lacquered wood. Cautiously, her right eye peeked out from its hiding place. She felt the warmth of the sun, but knew too well in Seattle, its passing might be just a break between clouds. Dare she hope for more?
First a crease, then wider, wider, both eyes tested the scenery. Satisfied by lazy queries her anticipation lifts into reward. Brilliantly bright and without shadow the sun graces a blue cloudless sky on an early summer Saturday.
Content with a day full of new possibilities she lay in her bed watching the wind play with the curtains, her silence interrupted abruptly as her radio springs to life. No matter, a quick glance at the clock tells her it is barely six-thirty; she closes her eyes again, snuggling further between the covers. There is something satisfying about not having to get up when it sounds. Contemplating each weekday wake-up, weekends are such sweet revenge. Listening quietly to the music, Claudia followed a couple of commercials, then the greeting from the excessively animated Mountain morning jock. Again she drifts toward dreamland, this time serenaded by Hootie and The Blowfish’s Time.
Music infuses Claudia and Claudia adores Hootie. To her, Darius Rucker possessed one of those incredibly masculine, decidedly sexy, sultry voices like Bono of U2 or Randy Owen of Alabama. His is the type of voice she can easily lose herself in, melting out of control. Not knowing or caring what he looks like, she listens and fashions a tall dark image in her mind. She imagines herself intertwined with him in the dust. The sound of his voice alone is enough to ignite her libido. Listening, dreaming forever, never moving, lovingly cradled by his poignant sound, this time is so sweet. A few more songs, a few commercials before the quality runs out. Just three seconds of the rap number escapes the speakers before…Bam!
Her fist slams down on the off button neutralizing the offensive noise. The time had jumped to 7:00 AM. How had a half-hour already gone by? Glancing again out the window she surmises. Days with sunshine are rare in the evergreen state, she best not waste this.
Throwing off the covers, she lands feet first on the floor. Fumbling for her wrap, not finding it, she stumbles naked to her bureau and begins pulling together an outfit for the day. Three minutes later, in the shower, she carefully shaves her graceful chestnut legs as the conditioner sinks into her hair. A quick rinse and out she steps, grabbing a towel and vigorously rubbing the water out of her hair. Pulling a second dry towel from the rack on the wall, she dabs it lightly over her skin. Nearly dry yet still damp, she lets the towel drop to the floor admiring her naked body in the surreal fog of her full-length mirror.
Claudia contemplated the figure gazing at her. At twenty-seven, her body exuded youth, capturing the imagination. Half Italian and half German, her elegant stature showcased both. Dark natural blonde hair spilled freely over her broad shoulders ending mid back, the flaxen color contrasting beautifully with her naturally tan skin and bright green eyes. Her face, exquisite, slightly round in shape with well-defined cheekbones and petal shaped lips. Svelte in frame, she is blessed with supple curves and long well proportioned limbs.
Watching intently as the mist fades from the center of the mirror, Claudia touches her lips. Warm and soft, they are reminiscent of her last kiss. Pivoting her hand, she outlines her cheeks then slowly her hand falls. Tentatively, she allows it to wander down her neck, dropping it slightly to brush an aspiring breast. Pausing, she traces the brownish flesh and circling several times, delighting in the tickling sensation arising as it radiates throughout her body.
Taking a deep breath she prolongs the experience. Satisfied, she throws back her shoulders, watching as her breasts become two perfect acorns flirting from within their shells.
With a final glance in the mirror, she drifts into the bedroom and carefully dressed herself. First, her favorite lingerie, dark green and transparent. Next a floral short skirt, flirty in its folds topped with a simple white shirt, rolled at the sleeves and tied loosely above her waste. Her stomached, barely concealed hints from beneath.
Pleased with her ensemble, she sits before her vanity and lifts a bottle of unscented tanning oil. Opening the drawer, her hands shuffle through lingerie searching for the scents. Presently her fingers fall upon the familiar chill of glass. Securing each within her fingers she withdraws three tiny bottles: essences of sandalwood, jasmine and musk.
With the skill of a chemist, she transfers a portion of the oil into a smaller container. Adding two drops of sandalwood, two drops of jasmine, and four drops of musk, the oil becomes a potent sensory mix. Shaking the bottle vigorously, she reaches for her duffel, deposits the bottle inside while rushing downstairs to the kitchen. Within minutes she assembled a quick lunch of fruits, cheese, crackers and wine. Adding theses to the contents of the bag, she turns and locks up.
To the east the sun has crested the Cascade Mountains as Claudia steps from her home and into the carport. The breeze, seasoned with fresh evergreens and roses whispers between her legs. June mornings like this, when Puget Sound glows with the brilliance of gems is why she lives in Seattle. A quick glance at the thermometer on the wall, sixty-five degrees, a perfect topless day. Seconds later, up goes her hair into a ponytail, in slides the latest Hootie CD and down falls the top on Beauty, her bronze Sebring convertible.
The drive to her secret place will take a little over two hours, but it is well worth the trip. The solitude and sheer beauty of the location transform her, and she knows she can be alone with him. Heading north, then east along Highway Two she arrives at Zek’s Drive-in, a little roadside fast food restaurant famous for its Buffalo Burgers and espresso. At the foot of Stevens Pass and east of Gold Bar, Zek’s appears just in time to cure a caffeine fit that has been steadily building since Seattle. In nineteen ninety-five, addiction to daily lattes is a Seattle trademark outsiders scoff at until they taste their first. It wasn’t long before they were hooked, and it always amazed Claudia in her travels how long the lines were in other city’s Starbucks and SBC’s. Unbeknownst to her, by the turn of the century Starbucks coffee shops would become as pervasive as McDonalds.
Wedging the burning hot double-tall between her legs, she continues up the pass, leaving the highway at Index and beginning a twenty mile trek through a canopy of trees that leads toward the headwaters of the Skycomish.
For the first eight miles, what seems like a never-ending parade of little cabins allowed only glimpses of the river running below. Some have smoke spiraling from quaint stone chimneys; others have people busily milling about at the start of their day. Each tiny cabin beheld its own story, sheltering the lives she those she will never get to know.
Suddenly the cabins give way as the road narrows to begin its steep climb deep into the mountains. There is only room for a one-lane road and the river to share between the walls of the ravine. Claudia prayed no one would be coming in the opposite direction. Beside her, the river fights the constraints of its narrow passage in an endless series of rapids. The roar of the water drowns out all other sounds as it echoes between the sheer granite cliffs. Ahead, a small tributary points to a dirt road vaguely concealed by fallen leaves.
Reaching the hidden lane, Claudia departs from her course. Away from the river, the low methodical roar from Beauty’s engine lulls her into compliance. Beneath, leaves crackle loudly as rubber grounds them to dust. All around her, wet with the intensity of an early summer’s morning, the majesty of nature's splendor accents her way. Moments later the road ends. She parks. She is nearly to her destination.
Eager to arrive, she lifts her duffel from the back seat, raises the top and locks up. To her right, a barely visible path accompanies a creek. This will be her guide. She quickly ascends it, disappearing into the woods. As she walks, her thoughts warm with visions of what the day will hold. She has anticipated this day for weeks and now it has arrived. Nervously, Claudia glances above. Deep sapphire blue burst between the leaves. Clouds will not shadow the sun on this day. Today she shall not be disappointed.
Upon the hill’s crest the path opens revealing before her shrouded in evergreens a miniature alpine lake. To her right, several large boulders form a granite dock extending more than twenty feet toward the center of the lake. Smiling she congratulates herself. She had arrived.
Claudia made her way to the boulders, carefully negotiating each until she reached the last. The pinnacle was nature’s chaise, gently sloping to face the center of the lake. It will be on this rock she will spend her day. Unzipping her bag, Claudia pulls out a blanket arranging it haphazardly upon the rock.
Standing in the center of the lake now atop the rock, she breathes deeply, experiencing the resplendence through her mouth. Above her, the sun waits.
Closing her eyes, Claudia feels for the top button of her blouse. Finding it, she turns it softly between two fingers before slipping it though its hole. Following the seam, she slides her fingers lower to the next, releasing another button from its duties before disengaging the rest. Untying the knot above her waist, a gentle breeze pushed her blouse open, revealing her bosom still captive within the confines of dark green lace.
Raising her arms above her, Claudia lifts the unfastened shirt inviting the wind to run up her arms and steal the blouse from her grasp. As if on cue, the blouse billows, crisp white cotton gliding effortlessly over her hands as it sails leisurely toward the shore. The light breeze continues bathing her chest with its cool reprieve from the onslaught of the midday sun.
She touches her face; it feels flush, hot. Kneeling down, she fills her palms with water and splashes the wetness over her features. The tiny droplets tickle as they scurried about, running down her nose and over her chin. Cupping her face within her hands, she spreads the excess moisture about. How quickly the cooling drops evaporate! Fanning her fingers over her chin and cheeks, she closes her eyes and traces the drops collecting above her lip with a wanton finger.
Entertaining passion, Claudia inserts the curious finger into the burning arena of her mouth. Accepting the challenge her eager tongue explores the intruder, rolling above, circling, and toying with its shape. Pursing her lips, she forces the glistening appendage nearly free from her mouth, before enticing its return by playfully sucking it in. In and out, in and out, again she puckers, ejecting her newfound toy before plunging it in and enveloping it within the steamy chamber.
Savoring the saltiness of her skin, she relaxes her lips and slowly removes her finger from its sheath. Flashing a mischievous smile toward the sun, she giggles, her finger tracing a silver trail down her neck to the front clasp of her brassiere. The wet trail chilling her sun soaked skin. With one hand she twists the latch releasing her breasts. Round and firm, they spring apart exposing a fleshy valley flanked by transparent green lace.
Cradling each breast within a hand, she gently massages in circular motions, kneading over and then slowly sliding her hand under the lace. This motion, lovingly direct frees first her right breast, than left. A simple massage, its gentle lifting persuades the lingerie to abandon its duties. Her chest now fully exposed, Claudia slides the straps off her shoulders. Her brassiere falls to the ground. There is something ethereal and liberating about standing in the middle of a lake topless. Though the wind cools, the heat overrides. She can feel sun caressed her emancipated chest. The wind teases, playing hide and seek with her outstretched nipples. She feels uninhibited topless; free from form, a condition she laments. Still, public laws make it forbidden. This experience must be a sensation and secret kept.
Rebellious to legality, she unsnaps her skirt. Swiveling her hips from side to side, it catches for a moment, billows in the wind and drops to her feet.
Stepping out of the skirt and tosses it near her bag. Standing upon the rock nearly naked, her hands ease toward the ribbon of green lace secured below her waist. She runs her finger lightly between the band and her stomach, encircling the entire width. The lace feels coarse and scratchy, an alternate texture burrowed against the softness of skin. Engaging both hands, Claudia peels the garment from her body. At her knees, the lingerie falls to the ground. Nude but not complete, she reaches into her gym bag, producing the bottle of scented oil.
Around her, the sun’s warm rays ignite the granite, highlighting thousands of quartz crystals sparkling like sequins around a pool of cobalt silk.
Bottle in hand, Claudia opens the oil and holds it to her nose. A warm rich invitation of sultry musk and woody summers fill her senses. She allows her body to melt onto the blanket, stretching her long legs in front. Bending her right knee, she pours a small pool of oil on it. The liquid confused by gravity rolls over her leg in several directions. It gains speed the farther it travels. She scrambles to lasso the quickest stream, already midway to her calf. The vagabond arrested, she lovingly rubs the essence into her skin.
Both hands slick and dripping with oil, she moves to her feet. Holding a foot with one hand she slips her fingers atop and both thumbs to her sole. Diligently she kneads the muscles within. Satisfied with the therapy, she slides both hands up to her ankle. She kneads again, fanning her fingers over the joint, forcing the oil deeper within her skin. Again her hands slide higher. Pressing firmly up her calf, her thumbs to reach under the muscle, nudging it, kneading and then stroking the entire length.
Suddenly, a tickling sensation erupts on her inner thigh. Fearing an insect, she spreads her legs to investigate.
Relief!
It is simply excess oil winding its way down the contours of her inner thigh. It has made tremendous progress, she notes. Thick yet lucid, it is inching dangerously close to her sacred space.
She reaches between her thighs, distracting the stream and thus altering its course. Smearing the stream into circles, she relishes in the intense pleasure as she polishes the delicate inner regions of her thigh. The temperature is increasing, she notes. Pressing down on her, the sun bakes her fragile skin; she marvels at how warm, soft and toned her right leg feels. Maybe that gym membership was worth it? Possibly she concedes. Reaching again for the oil, now quite warm from sitting in the sun, she repeats the ritual on her left leg before venturing to her arms.
Reaching her back with adequate protection has always been a trick, but Claudia with a little ingenuity devised a strategy especially for this task. Pouring oil liberally onto a plastic sheet, spreading it with her hands, she fashioned a makeshift masseur. Side to side and back and forth, she vigorously slides the oil soaked plastic over her shoulders than further down her back.
Now nearly covered in oil, she completes her task. Filling her palms with more oil, she rubs them together as she reaches behind to address her buttocks. Her hands so saturated, each palm feels like butter. Cupping both hands upside down on their respective cheeks, she spreads the folds with both pinkies. Her hands clutch firmly, then release, massaging the muscle rhythmically as she coaxes the potion deep within her skin. The smooth silhouette round and firm glistens brightly, kissed discreetly by each curious ray of the sun. She pauses and lingers, taking her time. How the heat enthralls on areas seldom seen, its passive pleasure aware, insistent and serene. Beneath the sun her skin drinks the oil nearing dryness to the touch. Enough liquid remains for one final pass.
Lubricated hands glide smoothly and unchecked over each cresting silhouette to the small of her back. But here her outer fingers choose a different path. Lingering behind they trail through the crevasse, separating the muscles and marking their path. The tease excites her back door, igniting a frenzy of shivers. It is a tempting idea she concedes, though not one for today.
Sitting down Claudia pulls the rubber band out of her hair, shakes her head and frees it from its ponytail to wander at will. Propping her head on her duffel, she pours the last of the oil onto her concave belly. Pressing lightly, she rubs the oil in circles, south to her hipbones and north to her ribs. Her brown skin glows bronze from the shine. With both hands extended, she coaxes the potion over her ribs to the base of her bosom. Each breast presents a handful. Cupping each within a hand, she lavishes both with oil. The scent heated in the sun builds in intensity. How she loves the way her hot skin heats and transforms the oil; the warmth comforts her so. Grabbing a hold of each breast, she squeezes them together for a few seconds before the oil slick forces them to slide from her grasp and each falls into its proper place. Up her neck and around her face, at last her ritual is complete.
Rising to her feet, Claudia stands in the center of her rock, her unencumbered body glistening in the sun. She reaches her arms above her head forming a “V”.
Closing her eyes she lifts her face to the sun and whispers, “I am ready.”
Feeling incredibly free and delightfully vulnerable, she stands. At this moment the world holds nothing, only she and her sun exist. Her hands acknowledging move up and down her body. She feels herself, rolling in unison over her hipbones and delighting in her body. With each pass she is assuring herself this is not a dream. She feels the sun, now fully exploring each inch of her body. It sees her, feels her and in turn she sees and experiences the same.
Slowly, with arms outstretched she spins. Lacking sight she concentrates on the life-giving rays bathing her body in warmth. A small breeze penetrates, passing over her pique body, breathing its coolness as it brushes the moisture building in the dark areas between her legs. Above her, the sun’s heat intensifies. The combination of her scent synthesizing with the poignant oil envelops her. Dizzy, she feels herself succumbing to a near-drugged state of euphoria. Surrendering her knees fold, persuading the rest of her body to follow.
A sense of urgency fills her. She wants him; she needs him. She must have her sun. Defying hesitation, Claudia lays back on the rock outstretching her hands as far as she can to either side. Her bare chest open to the elements is completely exposed. Bending her knees, she spreads her legs apart, unveiling the immaculately trimmed tuft of hair that guards the entrance to her sacred space. Cloudy beads of sweat sprinkled about her body trembling with each wisp of air and delivered sensation.
She watches as her chest rises unceremoniously with each deep breath, cresting as she swallows and recessing with release. She feels the sun bathe her with its rejuvenating heat. She stroked her thighs; they have become hot and sticky to the touch. She coaxes her hands closer to the base of her legs; all is wet and slippery. Wet not from the oil now, but from her natural juices flowing freely between.
Pivoting her body, she positions her pelvis in full view of the sun.
The effect? Incredible!
The sun illuminates the entire stage as two sets of lips drink in the sweltering rays. Emerging from between, her hardened clitoris screams for gratification. With the tips of her nails, Claudia engages the pleasure center in a seductive dance, whipping and tickling it faster and faster. It responds immediately, scattering bursts of delight about her body. Around and down, back and forth, her finger feverishly works the tiny appendage to frenzy. She brings herself to the edge and stops; she will not cheat the sun its due.
Calm, she must remain calm if she is to last. Lying back on the rock, she cools her nerves, concentrated on the sounds: the water lapping against the rocks, the wind in the trees, the birds. Everything is so peaceful and tranquil here. The sounds and the heat hypnotize her and she catches herself falling into sleep. Startled by a bird landing in the lake, she awakes. Again she focuses on her body.
The sun and the wind conspire together, teasing her, enticing her, begging her to come in. Accepting this offer with both hands, she slides each down her inner thighs, resting at the base of her pelvic bone. Her thumbs wiggle and burrow masking themselves in a bundle of hair. Exploring to the side, she rubs the tender troughs separating her legs from her lips, spreading the lubricious moisture with her prowling fingers. The tease rejuvenated her desire. Removing one of her hands, she licks the liquid, tasting her essence. It tasted salty, even a little sweet. Smiling, she briefly opens her eyes to gaze at the sun.
Alone in the sky he sits. Between her legs, the intense heat commands she return.
Drawing a deep breath Claudia raises her arms above her head, elongating her entire body in offering to the sun. Spreading her legs wider, she concentrates on the sensitive skin between. The candescense pulsates pleading for entry into the taut dark hole. She feels her own temperature rising, ever rising with each penetrating ray. It is hot, so very hot. Her body feels tenuous with excitement.
There is little relief from the ambitious sun and its scorching touch. Her body waits. She is already sprinkled with her own dew and longing for the wind to tickle her again with its thousand cooling kisses. The wind seems to be watching and no longer willing to make this encounter a threesome.
In her mind, Claudia creates a viable lover of the sun. She discovered many years ago how to think herself to orgasm; her days with the sun offer the perfect opportunity to practice her craft. She focuses on the sun’s rays now licking at her vulva, concentrating on the heat as it enters her vagina. Inside, her walls flutter, searching for an intruder and becoming more exasperated with each passing moment.
Tension—how she feels the tension build. Her stomach muscles quiver involuntarily. Her teeth clench as she concentrates on the sun’s play. Deep inside her, a wanting erupts. It is begging for fulfillment and finding none. Pulsating in time, pulsating within, she feels each muscle pulsating, first vaguely then building doggedly toward an uncontrolled rage. The sun’s rays intensify, penetrating further within. The wanting gives way to an imploring ache. This ache—the ache that always signaled she is approaching the blessed emancipation.
She envisions the sun’s rays becoming solid, growing, penetrating her lips. Her mind sees the sun’s rays dancing inside, then nearly withdrawing before plunging in again. Claudia’s muscles tighten, her body now ridged. Beneath her a puddle of moisture settles. Intense, it is all so intense! She feels on the edge, yet? Oh the anticipation, when, when will she be released? Her legs first right than left, quiver. Escalating each begins jumping involuntarily. Deep inside her muscles volatile, quake. She is flush. The heat, the wind and the water, her body is open to the elements, a vassal to the sun.
And the sun is a merciless master, Claudia concedes. Breathing, how difficult it is. Cannot seem to get enough air! Hyperventilating, she feels her pulse rapidly escalating with each precious gasp. High, she is so high, intoxicated by her own breath. Her head begins to rock back and forth absently between her outstretched arms; she cannot control it. She cannot control anything! Her eyes roll back as the wave of ecstasy long building rushes over her. Each cell is engulfed, every element of her body out of control. From her mouth escapes an involuntary scream. Delighting in her state of release she melts into the blanket, blissfully exhausted.
###
Hours later she awakens, summoned by the discreet chill creeping swiftly across the ground. Her lover has dropped quietly behind the mountains to the west. It is several hours into the late afternoon. Dazed yet refreshed, Claudia stands and shivers. Quickly she dresses and gathers her things. Standing at the head of the trail, she ventures a final glimpse, lamenting the encounter now ended. The lake as if understanding her reluctance, expresses its goodbye in a body of water alive with intentions and entrusted with her secrets. How it glows with shades of orange and gold capturing in its reflection the last blush of a setting sun. Suspended above, a faint mist slithering aimlessly between its shores.
Claudia smiles. This is her favorite time of the day, the time when nature displays its best in the waning light of the sun. She hates to leave, but knows she will return. There will be other sunny Saturdays. Blowing a kiss to her descending lover, reluctantly she turns and walks down the path.
It is time to go home.
__________________________
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Laura Dawn Lewis was born in Rochester, New York in 1966. She is the eldest of two. In August of that year her family moved to San Diego, California and she spent the first 21 years of life living in every major city on the West Coast. From 1982 through 1983 she lived in Marilia, São Paul, Brazil.
Her career covers an eclectic array of experience including professional modeling/acting and later interior design through her college years to advertising and journalism through the 90's. During the mid 1990’s she began researching the idea of Couples Company. In 1999 she joined forces with prominent relationship Psychiatrist and Author, Dr. Mark Goulston. Through 2004, they built Couples Company when they parted ways to pursue different ventures. Prior to launching Couples Company, she learned the advertising and publishing industries through her work in various positions for the Washington Post, Los Angeles Business Journal and CBS Radio Group.
In 2000 she met the man she thought she’d marry. During this time she authored the first book in the Laid Off Now What?!? series and by 2001 was working in a marketing capacity with her boyfriend for a number of his companies.
In 2004 they became engaged but as her writing career became more international due to her combining forces with another journalist, the relationship began to deteriorate. Since 2004 she and her writing partner have been covering human rights and political issues in the Middle East for a number of international newspapers and magazines under her partner’s name. Beginning in 2005, the journalism team began to receive the first of over a dozen journalism awards.
Miss Lewis and her fiancé broke off their engagement in 2006, but remained together. By 2008 they ended the relationship, yet remain on good terms to this day.
In 2008 Miss Lewis moved to Saudi Arabia for a time to assist on research for an upcoming book on the history of the region, oil and politics. The second half of that year she lived in the South of England where with musician friend Michael Brech, she co-wrote and produced The Storybook Advent Calendar children’s book and the Storybook Advent Carols Collections Volumes One and Two. In late 2009 she released the first of four new books in the Laid Off Now What?!? Series: Thriving through Unemployment Financially.
As of 2010 she lives on the Westside of Los Angeles with her cat Sinatra and engaged in nearly a dozen different ventures, charities and activities.
Watch for the Second Volume in the Sensuality Series,
Sensuality Volume Two
Releasing late 2010
Websites:
www.couplescompany.com
www.storybookadvent.com
www.laidoffnowwhat.com
For questions or comments, please e-mail us at public@couplescompany.com
For our current address, please consult CouplesCompany.com