" Mrs Jones said. I returned to my sisters' bedroom door, I could hear the moaning noises, but faster, I was curious to see what Rob was doing. I knoc...ed & heard Rob say "Just a second." I opened the door to see Rob laying on the bed with his shirt caught in his flies, I do that I thought. "Would you like a cup of tea, Robert?" "Yes with two sugars please." I made his tea & carefully carried it upstairs, I didn't knock just opened the door, I saw Rob face down, with one hand underneath him, he. It’s fun to write fiction. I can tell my truth and lie at the same time. It’s like a drug. I get high off the fact that I’m creating something totally new and knowing that no one else can tell that story, but me. It’s my story to tell, you know. At the age of thirty-five, my first short story collection entitled Bitch did pretty well as far as sales were concerned. I did the usual traveling for the book tour. I hated that part of it. To me, it takes away the experience of people actually. More

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