Late Night at the Office

By Miriam F. Martin

Quarter to midnight, and Stan wakes up at his office desk, computer paper stuck to his cheek, glued in place by drool and a sweaty five o’clock shadow. Tough life as an accountant during tax season. No time to nap on the job. Back to the grind for Stan.
Until a woman in a black trenchcoat and red high heels steps into his office.
Never mind she doesn’t have an appointment. Never mind the late night lonely blues at the office.
If you enjoy quirky workplace erotica, be sure to read The Late Night at the Office.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hermit Muse Publishing
• Release date: Sep 12, 2017

Miriam F. Martin

Miriam F. Martin grew up wanting to be a cam girl, but excessive stage fright killed the dream. Her passion for getting strangers off over the wild worldwide web hasn’t died yet. So she focuses her time writing smutty books for smart people, like you. When not writing erotica, she also writes science fiction and fantasy. Her hobbies include playing the guitar badly, misinterpreting the future with Tarot cards, and over-analyzing dreams. She also enjoys first-person shooters, rogue-likes, and hidden object games. Her quest in life is to have a house full of cats. Miriam loves to hear from her fans, and she may be contacted through her agent, David Anthony Brown, at: david (at) danthonybrown (dot) com

Book preview

Late Night at the Office

Late Night at the Office

Miriam F. Martin

Hermit Muse Publishing

Contents

How to beat the midnight blues…

Late Night at the Office

Femme Phobia

About the Author

Also by Miriam F. Martin

How to beat the midnight blues…

Late Night at the Office

Quarter to midnight, and Stan wakes up at his office desk, computer paper stuck to his cheek, glued in place by drool and a sweaty five o’clock shadow. Tough life as an accountant during tax season. No time to nap on the job. Back to the grind for Stan.

Until a woman in a black trenchcoat and red high heels steps into his office.

Never mind she doesn’t have an appointment. Never mind the late night lonely blues at the office.

Femme Phobia

The dark, clowns, and women—three things Jeremy Price fears.

When he seeks out Dr. Jane Bernstein’s help, little choice remains but to face those fears one by one. But even in the safety of Dr. Jane’s office, that last fear can be paralyzing.

Friendly, supportive, but certainly no sexual object. Dr. Jane treats Jeremy as an equal. As a person. Unlike the other women in his life. Even so, Jeremy struggles with one simple request.

He’d rather lay on the sofa than sit in the chair. Aren’t therapy sessions supposed to be that way?

If you enjoy quirky cougar erotica, be sure to read Femme Phobia.

Copyright © 2017 by Hermit Muse Publishing

Cover Image: stokkete/BigStockPhoto

Cover Design: David Anthony Brown

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

All characters, events, and settings are fictional. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidence.

THIS WORK IS INTENDED FOR ADULT READERS 18+

Created with Vellum Created with Vellum

Late Night at the Office

What You Do After Waking Up

Stan woke up, startled. A piece of white computer paper stuck to his cheek, glued in place by drool and a sweaty five o’clock shadow. His neck hurt, like he’d been sleeping in an awkward position. Which was exactly what he’d done.

The blinds were open, letting in the fake yellow lights of the parking lot lamps. The office smelled like a moldy pepperoni and mushroom pizza, the kind that was good when fresh and terrible after a long night of work. He kicked the cardboard box with his foot, fumbling about, trying to wake up.

He leaned back, the swivel chair squeaking like a dying animal under his butt. The computer had fallen asleep, the blue light on the monitor winking at him like a one-eyed woman flirting with Stan. If only he were so lucky. Marissa left him after five years of bliss, taking the glass eye he’d bought her for her thirtieth birthday. She also took the cats and most of the furniture.

Including the massive king sized bed he’d bought for their third year anniversary. All he had left in the house was some steel-frame barstools and a lumpy sofa with tattered upholstery.

Good enough reason to sleep on the office sofa most nights. Didn’t do his neck any favors.