I was raised by people who talked about love and intimacy like they mattered.
Not in a preachy, rule-driven way. And not in a way that ever made me feel ashamed. My parents believed in boundaries, yes. But also in questions. And oh, did I ask questions.
They were the kind of people who didn’t think sex should be a secret. Who believed in trust and timing and love. Who thought it was better to talk about these things than to pretend they didn’t exist. They made space for me to understand, long before I experienced anything firsthand.
They didn’t tell me how to be. They showed me how to listen.
And now I write stories that would probably make them blush a little. But they’re proud. I know that. Because what I’m writing isn’t about shock. It’s not about performance. It’s about truth.
Three Nights in Vegas – Day 2 is about a woman who does something most people don’t talk about.
She touches herself. She wants to be seen. She wants to be watched. And she wants to do it without shame.
That’s what I’m writing toward: the space where women don’t have to apologize for needing. For hungering. For fantasizing.
Because I know how many of us grew up being taught to make room for everyone else first. To be polite. To be quiet. To be modest. To be good.
But what about being free?
What about wanting something and not folding it into a whisper?
What about the sadness that comes from years of unmet needs—and the hope that maybe, just maybe, a story can start to bridge that?
That’s why I write. To connect. To let someone out there feel less alone in the thing they’re still scared to say out loud.
To say: What you feel matters. What you want matters. You matter.
So yes, I write about a woman who shares herself in ways some might judge. I write about a husband who wants to see it. I write about a massage, a walk, a moment of silence that suddenly turns sacred. And I write it all because I believe your deepest desires should be a safe place.
Day 2 is about waking up different. Not because of who touched you. But because of what you let yourself feel.
The image you see above is from the same quiet “photo shoot” that gave me the cover for Day 2. I was exploring what Shiv might look like the morning after — not performing, not pleasing anyone, just… existing in her own glow.
And somewhere in that sequence, she smiled.
That moment said everything the book is about: not regret, not guilt, not shame. Just the simple, radiant peace of a woman who gave herself permission.
And that, more than anything, is what I want my readers to walk away with:
Freedom. Pleasure. And no more apologies.
— Eden