Publishing · Sara Dobie Bauer · Writing

Magic realism and coffee house sexploits in “You’re Glowing”


Omnia Vanitas Review is a small, literary erotica press. They are “a delicate mixture of féminine écriture, new narrative, and clit lit.” They are, self-admittedly, publishers of “pretentious porn.”

My short story, “You’re Glowing,” might not be pretentious per se, but it is pretty, considering the men in the story literally glow. Catherine, the editor, said, “It was the colors. Nothing captures me like color.” She called my piece “joyful, irreverent, flushed.” She said Ella Fitzgerald played in the background as she read, which just felt right.

True, this is X-rated, but it’s X-rated with class and comedy and a cute coffee boy named Crosby. I think you’ll love it.

“You’re Glowing”
by Sara Dobie Bauer
An Excerpt

It’s been so long, I don’t remember how to get laid. I don’t only mean the two years of stagnancy at the end of my marriage; I mean Paul and I were married for ten years. I haven’t hit on a guy in over a decade, and I’ve never in my whole life asked a man for an afternoon boink. I’m setting myself up for failure. What was I thinking? I’m thirty-nine years old, horny, and alone.

I snuff out my cigarette and sigh a cloud of smoke. Then, I think: coffee. Coffee makes everything better.

My usual place is only two blocks from the newspaper stand, so I walk slowly and think of all the movies I’ve seen. Women can order men, right? Massage therapists who come to your house and get naked? I’ve seen that in a movie before, I think.

My shoulders slump. I don’t have the guts to do that. Might as well close up shop. Drag a gate over the door and let the cobwebs grow.

I pass the black Harley on the sidewalk. It’s always parked outside my coffee shop. Then, as he’s leaving, a guy in a gray suit holds the door for me and smiles. He glows red. I scurry inside.

My coffee boy is behind the counter. His name is Crosby, and as usual, he glows pink. He’s reading the newspaper and doesn’t look up when I walk in. His shaggy, dark brown hair covers his forehead and eyes. He yawns as I approach.

“Hey,” he says. He’s reading the entertainment section. Maybe he’s gay, what with the whole glowing pink thing.

I put my fingertips on the edge of the counter and study the menu on the chalkboard above his head, as if I don’t know what I’m getting. I always get the same thing: the Vienna Latte, with cinnamon and honey—which makes me realize … I just got divorced. Maybe I should try something new.

“The usual?” Crosby turns the page.


He looks up at me. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” I don’t look at him, because the pink aura around Crosby is throbbing today, and I think if he touches me, I will fall across the counter in the thralls of orgasm. “Café Mocha, please, double.” I dig in my wallet for cash and toss a five-dollar bill near the register.

I turn away from the counter and take a seat at a tall table near the front window. I used to sit at this table with Paul, and I realize it doesn’t matter if I just ordered not my “usual” drink; I’m still just usual me, despite the divorce. I’ll probably never get laid again. I’ll grow old in the apartment I used to share with my husband—the one I got in the settlement—and die with a vibrator in my gnarly, old woman fingers.

Crosby sits down across from me and hands me my mocha. He’s poured the foam in the shape of a heart. “What’s with you today?”

I don’t touch my drink. “I just got divorced.”

He’s silent for a moment—this man who I’m guessing is in his early twenties. Before he started glowing, I used to enjoy watching him work. I know he has a little scar on the bottom right edge of his lip, and he smiles a lot. He’s got bright colored eyes that change color depending on what he wears. Crosby is what women consider “cute.” I used to enjoy talking to him, before all men started glowing with sexual energy and before a simple touch equated to an ocean between my legs.

I actually jump when I feel his fingers on my left hand. I look down, and his thumb and forefinger hold on to my wedding band. Slowly, he wiggles the ring off and drops it in the center of the foamy heart of my mocha.

“Hey,” I say. The heart is now empty in the middle.

I look up at Crosby, and he’s smiling. He doesn’t have a line on his face, not like Paul. His skin looks baby ass smooth. His dark brown hair falls like ocean waves up and over his head. His arms are crossed on the table, and I follow the line of forearm muscle up to the edge of t-shirt fabric that strains against his biceps.

The pink has been replaced by dark magenta, and he’s glowing like some blinking stoplight at midnight.

“Will you have sex with me?” I ask.

He blinks his eyes, slowly. “I don’t even know your name.”

Read the rest of “You’re Glowing” at Omnia Vanitas Review HERE.


Sara Dobie Bauer · Writing

“Sick Like Me” in Honeydew Erotic Review

I never asked for feedback when I wrote my short story, “Sick Like Me,” based on a song of the same name by In This Moment. (The music video is fantastic. Watch it HERE.) I just wrote something that was twisted and sexy with motorcycles and teacher-student seduction. I sent “Sick Like Me” off to magazines. Then, miraculously, it got accepted.

Honeydew editor Fiona Martine said two things really sold the story for her:
1) Dialogue about John Waters
2) A very sexy throat bite

Yes, there’s explicit sex in this story, but that’s not what “Sick Like Me” is about. It’s about coming to terms with your sexual preferences, embracing them, and finding someone else who embraces them as well … no matter how kinky. That’s love, baby.

I give you an excerpt of “Sick Like Me” from the Bad Ass edition of Honeydew Erotic Review. To read my story in its entirety, buy your copy HERE.

“Sick Like Me”
By Sara Dobie Bauer
An excerpt from Honeydew Erotic Review

Cam was a teacher’s assistant at Phoenix College, getting his Master’s in computer technology. He was the most unlikely of computer nerds, but he found sitting in front of a glowing monitor soothing: his city version of sitting around the campfire stoned.

He assisted one of his favorite professors that semester, Lisa Franklin: a tall, super smart dyke who was married to a much younger woman with twins. She told Cam her story once, how she left her husband when she realized she liked breasts and never wanted to see a penis again. Too bad her twins were both boys.

bikeFirst day of the semester, Cam held the attendance sheet in his hand: one of his many bitch jobs, done without complaint since the bitch jobs helped pay for his continued education.

When Evan walked in, silver helmet in hand, people turned to look. Even with his black hair flattened in the back, his too long bangs in his eyes, girls turned red and probably flooded their seats. The guy was just that hot.

Cam couldn’t believe his luck. He ushered a broad grin into the back of his mouth and rolled his tongue around instead.

He took attendance, and when he called the name “Evan Brody,” the guy—his guy—raised his hand, pushed black hair off his forehead, and didn’t say a word. Cam had the name, and he said it in his head while Lisa went over the syllabus.

Evan Brody. Evan Brody.


Felt good on Cam’s tongue.

Lisa gave them a quick assignment to fill the rest of class: some basic shit with CAD. Something about building 3-D shapes, and “Cam, why don’t you walk around and help anyone who needs it?”

He did wide circles at first between the rows of computer screens. Then, he closed his circle and closed it until he stood behind Evan Brody and looked at the mess he’d made of his assignment. The guy apparently knew nothing about graphic design.

“You doing all right?” Cam said.

Evan glanced up—then looked up.

Yeah, you recognize me, Cam thought, and yeah, I see you, Evan.

The boy sighed. “I’m not good at this.” So he did have a voice, and what a lovely voice: a deep purr that sounded a lot like his bike.

“Here.” Cam pulled up a chair next to him and reached for the mouse. He shifted things around, showed him some useful tools. “Try again.”

Evan attempted to mimic Cam’s work but was a total failure.

“No. Here.” Cam put his hand on top of Evan’s on the mouse. It was a test, not in the academic sense, and Cam passed because Evan didn’t pull his soft, warm hand away. He let himself be guided.

Submissive? Perfect. God almighty, this is going to be easy.

To read the rest of “Sick Like Me” (and I promise, it’s a lot of freaky fun), buy your copy of Honeydew Erotic Review HERE

And, as a SPECIAL BONUS, if you’ve ever wondered why I write gay erotica, my SheKnows article on that very topic came out today. Read all about it at

Charleston · Publishing · Sara Dobie Bauer · Wolf Among Sheep


Wolf Among Sheep


It’s ALIVE! Today, my erotic suspense novella Wolf Among Sheep (Hot Ink Press) is available to the masses on Amazon and Goodreads.

About Wolf Among Sheep:

“What exactly do you deduce we proposed?”
“That I enter into a sexual relationship with a married couple.”

Avery Collins is an ambitious young journalist in early-1900s Charleston, South Carolina, when exotic newcomers Timothy and Vonnie Duke spot him at a fancy gala on the Battery. The Dukes like bringing pretty playthings to their marriage bed, and with a promotion in mind, Avery entertains their advances not knowing lust can quickly turn to love — and love to murder.

Vividly atmospheric and told from three points of view, Wolf Among Sheep proves sexual prowess can get a man far in life in exchange for his soul.


Today, we’re celebrating with a Facebook event from 1 to 4 PM EST, so if you want to join, come visit HERE, and enter to win Amazon gift cards and book giveaways. If you can’t make it, be sure to pick up your copy of Wolf Among Sheep anyway and leave a review on Amazon!

What people are saying about Wolf Among Sheep:

“Incendiary, sensual, and wicked, Wolf Among Sheep is a thrilling reminder that the ecstasy of lust can be peppered with dark and sinister desires. With crackling prose and tension aplenty, Dobie Bauer weaves a sumptuous picture of the American South, alight with characters that will lure you into their beds … and then won’t let you go.”

-Tiffany Michelle Brown, author of Spin and Give It Back

“Sly and sexy, Dobie Bauer’s Wolf Among Sheep captures three beautifully fierce creatures straining against proper Southern society and shows what dangerous passions can happen when their lusts break them free.”

-Cassie Alexander, author of the Edie Spence Series 

“Sporting sexy characters, erotic manipulations, and sensual settings, Sara Dobie Bauer’s new novella is riveting, delicious, and delightfully decadent.”

—Jeff Mann, author of Fog and Desire and Devour


Charleston · Sara Dobie Bauer · Wolf Among Sheep · Writing

Wolf Among Sheep teaser: Beware a husband’s wrath


As I unlock my dingy apartment, I still taste her on my lips. I rush inside, don’t bother to lock up, and drink whisky from the bottle. I swallow and drink again, this time spitting onto the floor. What have I done? What have I done to a married woman?

The door opens behind me. Of course, he followed me from the hotel, and now, he means to kill me. Was that the game all along, to kill the man who tongued his wife? I deserve it—no time to atone. I think of all the offhand remarks with Chas, the cruel internal dialogue at those stupid society events, but this … this is the worst thing I’ve ever done. Now, I will die for it with no hope of forgiveness or a final confession. The man comes to send me to Hell.

I don’t back away or hold up my fists when he approaches. My guilt freezes me to the spot, so much so that when he sticks his tongue in my mouth, instead of a knife in my chest, I don’t fight back. But then, I do. My fists push against his chest and our mouths disengage.

My reflex is to throw one good punch at his jaw, but I miss. He catches my arm in his hand and twists it behind my back until an unwanted cry escapes my throat. Our feet tumble and wrestle beneath us, but damn it, Timothy Duke is much larger than me.

WAS-twistedHe twists my arm higher until I fear it might break and then pushes my face down against the cluttered desk in the corner. I smell ink and stale tobacco. It takes me a moment to recognize my vulnerable position. He has me bent over, pinned. His body weight crushes the air from my lungs, and he kicks at my feet, spreading my legs farther apart. I panic and renew the fight, but it’s useless.

“Don’t,” I mutter, pathetically begging.

A sound like airy laughter escapes through his nose. “I knew you were a fighter. Could see it in your hands.”

“I shouldn’t have touched your wife.”

“You think that’s why I followed you here, Avery? Because I’m jealous?” His grip loosens on my arm. Not enough for me to escape, but his fingers now move against my wrist, almost a caress. “You were magnificent.”

I take a shuddering breath.

“I only wanted you to know, if I’d been in that bed, you wouldn’t have left until I was finished with you.”

He lets me go, and I almost tumble to the floor. He adjusts his impeccable suit as he crosses the meager distance from the back of my apartment to the front. With his hand on the doorknob, he glances back.

“We’ll expect you tomorrow, the hotel at six.” He smiles. “Don’t worry. I’ll merely watch. And I believe Vonnie has a special treat.”

Timothy closes the door behind him. I fall over, down to my knees. It will take an entire bottle of whisky for me to find sleep this night.

(WOLF AMONG SHEEP comes out this Saturday, February 27, from Hot Ink Press. To follow all release day hijinks, come party with us on Facebook. Or add me to your “Want to Read” shelf on Goodreads HERE.)

Charleston · Publishing · Sara Dobie Bauer · Writing

New release: WOLF AMONG SHEEP book trailer

“What exactly do you deduce we proposed?”
“That I enter into a sexual relationship with a married couple.”

Avery Collins is an ambitious young journalist in early-1900s Charleston, South Carolina, when exotic newcomers Timothy and Vonnie Duke spot him at a fancy gala on the Battery. The Dukes like bringing pretty playthings to their marriage bed, and with a promotion in mind, Avery entertains their advances not knowing lust can quickly turn to love — and love to murder.

WOLF AMONG SHEEP will be available February 27 from Hot Ink Press.

To support my Thunderclap campaign for WOLF AMONG SHEEP (and I totally need your help!!), GO HERE.