Tag Archives: NKH – New Kiss horizon

My Birthday weekend ((me ∞ me))

 On Monday, I will turn 63!  –provided I live that long, and I really hope I do.  It has taken 63 years to get to this point, and I will revive a custom began when I was about ten, of recording my thoughts as I walked up and down my street with a clipboard, my thoughts for the last day that I am a particular age.  

I typed most of these crudely on an old Smith & Corona typewriter –long gone, nit even a phto of th typewriter I had, on which I wrote many short stories, including, title may be stated incorrrectly, “Great Catastrophe of the Mysterious Clock/Watch? ”  –sounds like the language I would have used back then.  

 

Different this year, because I will ponder my last day as I remain in love, really for the first time in my life.  I know I was married for forty years, but I have never been in love like this.  Say what you will, but I am delighted to finally love ths way.  Means so very much to me, a lifetime, you know.  

What I cannot say is that he loves me as I love him –that would be perfect wouldn’t it?

I remain confident that the day is coming when I will be able to say that.  I just feel this; no, it is not a feeling like the supected presence of a ghost; there is nothing at all hostile here, more more like a calming breeze, he wrote to me:

“Sitting by a calming fountain in Kiev, just after the bells of St Sofia rocked the plaza — real rocks of noise

I can say a few things: how crazy are you? am I? we?

Pretty crazy, I’d say!

You are a Go For It All woman finally free

You constantly inspire, and I wish to too

Standing off to the side and cheering you on

Hey! Watch out for that banana!

The Mnemonic of Yr Palindrome

TMnOYP” 

 He also wrote a poem for me from which my Dream Baby nickname derives, and his : Higgs or Higginson, for the most remarkable thing, the Higgs boson! –explains why partcicles have mass, could not have mass without them, and please allow me to talk about right here, the mass of his kiss, and the necessity of writing an entire book about his kiss, “New Kiss Horizon” 

 

new-kiss-horizon

There can never be a better love than this! –never!  –all I can say is that I always want him in my life.  I have enjoyed an entire new life because of him.  I do not know how to thank a man for doing what he has done in my life, but he must be thanked.  I can’t allow what he has done to  pass along without recognition, and even if I can’t reveal his name, I assure you that he is real, the gravity of Higginson is very well known to me. I feel his profound gravity most of the time, I am a celestial body always leaning to him, never out of his orbit, never, the cream in his coffee, and that fine journey down his throat, me a bulge in his neck as I continue my warming track descending through him, all six feet of him, the very aroma of me even bursting throgh his blue eyes like dew, drops of his Dakar cologne manufactured just by thinking of him, and what it meant that the first time we kissed was after he had waited 25 years just to kiss me?  

Can you comprehend just what a kiss that was, is?

 

I said to him, “You like my Forked pink Facebook hair, don’t you?”
“Of course, I do. Fishing lines, every strand; that’s part of how you got me; you know that, don’t you?” (He always liked that hair, video still from my youtube video” “Forkergirl Particle Pops a Beaded multiverse):

 

pink-hair-forker-gyrl
next time, I will bite some beads in your  presence, Thomas Robert Higginson

“What I really like is how you get the sexy science; you understand Forkergirl Particle Pops a Beaded Multiverse —and you fill every universe in this multiverse, my multiverse is all you. I know that you like the forking me on Facebook where we reconnect, and you like even better the theory behind her, that pink hair just like those pink flowers I love so much, especially Clitoria, you like that flower too” — that flower that is part of this tiny body, Thomas, and you kiss it on the iPhone when we talk, daily now leading up to when you can kiss it in person. And I kiss you on the screen also…”

Excerpt From: Thylias Moss. “New Kiss Horizon.” iBooks.

 

“Vash, you’re not alone. You do have me. Don’t forget that. You do have me. I am not lying to you. You really do have me. I mean that. You do have me. And I love that video. Helped me get to know what you’re all about; helped me understand the child-woman you are. It’s not just your size, if that’s what you’re thinking… It’s your way of engaging with the world despite all you’ve been through. You don’t know how sexy your attitude is. If there aren’t hundreds of men beating down your door, I’d be surprised. I can’t be the only one, despite what you say, PSOG aside; he doesn’t count, to be expected from your first taste of much needed freedom. Other men have to see what I see; other men must want you too, Vash. Even dead men if you pass over their graves would live again just to want you, Vash. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe it. You’re making me say things I should probably keep to myself. But Vash, what I feel is so powerful, and that’s because of you. Vash, my feelings have been growing for 25 years

“These are not sudden or shallow. They have powerful roots. What I feel is deep, deeper than anything I have ever known. And it’s for you, Vash; all for you.”

Excerpt From: Thylias Moss. “New Kiss Horizon.” iBooks.

NKH COPYRIGHT NOTICE:

copyright © 2016 by Thylias Moss. Published by arrangement with the author.  All rights reserved.

 

“It takes time?” he said, and I quite agree. Took me 63 years to really be in love, and I just hope that he doesn’t mind that I feel about him as I do, for if he doesn’t, then my life really will be shaping into the “terrific” life that he also told me was in front of me, not that I can’t have a terrific life without him, but now that I  love like this, I don’t ever want to love another way.

I can’t say for sure, but I am willing to wager that there are very few men loved the way that  I love him, and even fewer men can say that I love them; as only he can say that.  

There are times that I feel rather foolish loving like this for the first time in my life –I am no longer young, but I feel so young thinking of him, and I no longer worry that he may not be worthy of a love like this, because he is; my heart tells me so.  I can’t explain it, but as each day goes by, I love him even more.  

 

I so want to post a photo of the two of us, but I am not so sure that he wouldn’t mind.  Oh I could post photos of him alone, and I think he would like that even less, because I would be posting them without his acknowledgement of that, or just my simply telling him, and he is such a private man, although he is a poet like me, so a few more pics of me; I know it is all right to use these.  

 

He called my the “Cream in his coffee“, so here I am:

Cream in my coffee

Cup of latte I had at B’ 24’s in Ypsilanti

now the song” “You’re the Cream in My Coffee”:

and here’s his poem:

You are the corner of my eye:

          Thomas Robert Higginson

                (for THYlias Moss)

You are my rent-a-poem

You are love jungle — Yoyo, hula hoop!

You are my closing costs

My plasma vibrator my single malt

You? You are my Tampa manatee

You are my Occupy

You are an eucalyptus octopus

And a haircut on an autumn day

Also submarine. Surreality check.

You you…! You YOU you!

That’s who. The Temple of Shenanigans,

AKA Shenanigan Temple.

The complete works. The leftovers.

You are what I’ve been waiting for

And now I’ll never wait anymore.

Dream baby, you are, and indefatigable,

That, too. And you are the cream in my coffee,

And you are the one, and you are my everything,

And you are everything I could hope for.

And still you are more, and still you keep coming,

You are coming like a river, like a torrent,

Like an all day-lollipop where every day is today.

You are the Castle of Doubt on the Plain of Forgetfulness.

You are one more and able to laugh it off.

My sunshine, that’s what you are.

A rocking chair and a band-aid. Violin castanets.

An elusive perfume. You are all history. You are

Breakfast and you are on your way and all

I can do is list, name, and hand out passports.

Because you are who you are in a way that is all

Your way and which, as a poet trying to set it down,

Failure, I am a failure in that you will always be

Something to me both bedrock and ineluctable,

A passion of opposition and an unchecked probity

Of Probability and yet a chemical formula not to be

Tested. The Higgs bosun, that’s it exactly. A gluon.

A ramshackle melody. A forgotten memory that

Never happened and when all is said and done,

Actually nothing was said and nothing was done.

That’s why I keep writing endlessly penning, because that’s

Who you are and when I stop, Surprise, you are

The surprise, you are the inching to the summit,

The chocolate razor, the tadpole’s pole and the

Gate to the Fields of the Lord. I sing you praises and

The answer is more like a light fog saxophone, a

Kingdom Come revelation, a hunch that blossoms

To birth a new species. An appointment for lunch.

Some nectar in a tube, a pillow. Like the new language you

Are, if I could write that I would, you in a race car,

A pendulum, a fire tower, a blimp. A pothole, narcissus,

An a capella cantabile, a big bucket of milk. I can run alongside

You but can’t keep up with you, your tapdancing

Shadow, your clothing made of earth and spit. But I know you

And when you wish me Happy Birthday I trade it for yours,

You not growing old, you everlasting, you infinity you.

–It is my birthday weekend, you know. 

And now some photos of me age 62 –for just 2 more days!

I am wearing his hat; it’s in the drawer of this desk, right beside me.  The photos of “Higginson” street signs were captured by Nancy Boutiler, who told me this about them: “I thought you’d like this photo that I took in Salem, MA
As you probably know the Rev. Francis Higginson joined the Massachusetts Bay Company to form a “plantation” in New England.
Higginson led a group of about 350 Puritan settlers (including many of his own congregation) on six ships from England to New England.
His son, Rev. John Higginson was a leading investigator in the Salem witch trials of 1692–1693…oh, and there were others…
Enjoy the pics.”

Dream Baby” – “Cream in My Coffee”  –two of my nicknames from his poem’ black dress is my “Dream Baby” dress, I wore on my last date with him at Vermilion in Chicago.  Had Duck Vindaloo Arepas,  Sri Lankan Whole Fish, Gin and pomegranate martinis , my fisrt drink of alcohol.. made me sick.  At the time he didn’t believe me, but when I saw him in Minneapolis,  he restricted me to one drink, knowing what had happened and how I had been honest when I told him I had never tasted anything stronger than Chardonnay.

Some of my photos that I know are some of his favorites; he, probably, like any other normal man likes all of them, and the natural hair, no weave, no extensions, no relaxer –he can run his fingers through it without fear, just under 5 feet tall, and just under a hundred pounds without ever dieting.    He’s a foot taller than me and about double my weight. Sure wish I could post that pic of us; it is wonderful! –you’ll have to take my word on that, but then again, for my birthday?  I turn 63 only once, Forgive me, please if it is wrong to display this, but no name.  Just a man , no “THE” man I love….  Don’t get me wrong, nothing makes me happier than to care about him, but to touch him, to kiss him to b kissed by him –I wrote a whol ebook about his kiss, oh yes! –his kiss is that spectacular, just look at him –I wrote New Kiss Horizon wbou what kissing him is like, in which Thomas Robert Higginson says this: “

“Vashti doesn’t know that when I first saw a book of hers with her face all over the cover, I was instantly drawn to it. Her book was in the window of a small bookshop, a new poet, but poets don’t tend to look like that, oozing such sexiness, her lips parted in such an exciting way; I immediately imagined what could slip between those soft pink lips. Me in her mouth, in and out, as natural and as rhythmic as breathing. Vashti kissing me between my thighs; my hand in her hair, pulling it a little, wrapping those long strands around my fingers, burying my nose in her hair.

What a dream baby she is; I knew that with just one look. I got ideas for my fantasy right then, a store with only Vashti products.

Right then and there, I made it a point in my heart, although I was married, to get to know her better, to be able to hold her; maybe pure lust, but I felt it instantly. What a sexy woman she is, and aging in a way nothing else does, as if her clock moves in reverse. She looks more stunning and younger all the time.
I just stare at the picture of her in my mind, as I always do anyway.

“Almost too young for me, and I no longer look my best; I have put on so much weight, but she talks to me as if she doesn’t see it, but how can she not? I know it’s there, and I don’t like it.”

Excerpt From: Thylias Moss. “New Kiss Horizon.” iBooks.

copyright © 2016 by Thylias Moss. Published by arrangement with the author.  All rights reserved.

The first real kiss from him was so, so special! –in the taxi from O’Hare to the Mandarin Moon  hotel:

“—we sit beside each other, and you can wait no longer… You pull me as close to you as possible, as if I’m already part of your body…
—Now I’m going to do what should have happened to you years ago! But I’m glad I get to be the first man to kiss you this way. I pull you to me —gently — I don’t have to ask you about this; we’re alone on this back seat; the show is on my road now, my desire has built so much that I cannot wait a moment longer; I will not wait a moment longer! —why should I? —
—we could not be closer —
Every fiber of your coat is now part of me; and the scratchiness of the wool is just the texture I crave! —I don’t want anything about you soft; just some of the things you whisper in my ear, and even then, I’m hoping for some edge.
I can’t believe the strength, the possessiveness of the pull. Strong, but I am not forced. Powerful, but I am not forced.
I willingly allow myself to be pulled into you. I no longer have to wonder how to negotiate the transition from friend to lover as that transition is already in progress — so smooth; I can feel myself  twirling and spinning in your arms (fantasy galaxy that I also am)… So easy to imagine dancing with you… You want me, Thomas, you claim me, Mr. Higginson. You don’t say anything, just pull me closer and closer as you take me to the “Mr. Thomas Higginson School of Kissing.” I’ve never been kissed like this… I have never kissed a man the way that I kiss you…
I remember when you said this to me and wrote me this just a couple of days ago, and seemed impossible then, but not at all now:
First,
Baby
I can’t wait
To taste your kiss again
and again
Kiss kissing kisses
Slow you lead your
Beautiful tender lips
Just to rest there
So quiveringly touching
The moment itself
Kissing
 
That is exactly how you’re kissing me… and I cannot resist you. I don’t want to.
You kiss me and I kiss you back —I can’t help it! —not what I planned; I had no idea that you would kiss me this way —as if this is the only kiss you get to have for all your remaining life, and you want to make it last, make it count; best kiss on every scale of measurement, I have to quickly learn how to kiss you —you already know how to kiss me, how to make me feel that no man has ever kissed me before. You want me to feel the depth of these kisses… Depth charge kissing, Fuse-ignition. I’m surrendering to you already… I can’t help it…”

Excerpt From: Thylias Moss. “New Kiss Horizon.” iBooks.

NKH COPYRIGHT NOTICE:

copyright © 2016 by Thylias Moss. Published by arrangement with the author.  All rights reserved.

 

 

Thylias Moss (Dream Baby) and Bob Holman (Dream Lover

Dream date with a dream man, as we stand on a bridge forever connecting us, Chicago, 2014

If you have not yet been kised the way that this man and I kissed, making me forget 40 years of marriage with a single kiss, making me feel orgasmic just from kissing him  –just wait util we got in room 304 of he Mandarin Moon —you better believe that I plan to be in that room with him again.


Thomas, I hope you will always cherish this picture of us; it is hre in honor of my birthday, and how you say I am “not getting older, me everlasting, me infinity me: (me ∞ me)

I invited him the fist time, and now, it’s his turn to invite me.  I will definiteely  come     there.

He will be 69 on 10 March; I will not forget. I never do. He is too important to me to ever forget his birthday.

______________

Read all about it in “New Kiss Horizon” on sale now!

copyright © 2016 by Thylias Moss. Published by arrangement with the author.  All rights reserved.

new-kiss-horizon

More info available here:

 

“New Kiss Horizon” my 13th book (a romance) links:

NEW KISS HORIZON LINKS:

Link to “New Kiss Horizon” on Smashwords:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/683373

Link to “New Kiss Horizon” paperback on Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/New-Kiss-Horizon-Thylias-Moss/dp/1540584496

Link to “New Kiss Horizon” Kindle book on Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/New-Kiss-Horizon-Thylias-Moss-ebook/dp/B01N1K0PLC

Link to Thylias Moss Amazon writer page:

https://www.amazon.com/Thylias-Moss/e/B001JSBOQQ

Vashtis Blog (narrator of NKH, maintaining a blog so that readers may keep in touch with developments in the character’s life beyond the book):

Vashti’s blog URL:

https://vashtisblog.wordpress.com/

Advertisements

New Romance Novel!

I am extraordinarily pleased to announce immediate availability of that Romance novel I had been talking about!  

 

All about the romance between Vashti Astapad Warren and Thomas Robert Higginson

 

Title is NEW KISS HORIZON, an erotic romance that may be purchased now; perfect holiday gift.

Soem details:

 

NKH location:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/683373

other NKH details:

Title: New Kiss Horizon (NKH)

Author: Thylias Moss

Publisher: Smashwords, Inc.

price: 7.99  enjoy, An adult erotic book. 

Coming soon to iBooks, Amazon, just about any e-book format you can think of.   

Only a few of you knew that I was working on this, and here is is.  On a Sunday morning.

ISBN: 9781370811991

short description: 

I can’t reach this bar that you’ve set so far above my head… You’ll have to lift me to give me a chance to get it, but I do want it always above me, a fully movable ceiling that is pushed higher with each kiss. A replacement, a new ceiling, new sky of kiss, new kiss horizon…

 

Long description:

 

Vashti, a sexually repressed 60-year-old female poet finally finds the courage to divorce a man she married as a teenager, a man jealous of her looks, of the very equipment that makes her so appealing and this freedom allows 66-year-old poet Thomas Higginson to act upon the fantasy he’s had for thirty years of loving Vashti, actually holding her, making love to her, a fantasy he acts out by visiting a store of Vashti, his fantasy come to life, and of course, entering that store is really a sexual act, for he’s entering Vashti, even if just in his head that somehow Vashti seems to control for she has awareness of all of these Dream Baby Tienda events.

 

Novel begins with Vahti’s background, and Thomas enjoying his fantasy at the Dream Baby Tienda; he’s been interested in Vashti Astapad Warren and loving her in his dreams, in his fantasies for 25 years. Every aisle has forms of Vashti on the shelf. He feels a little guilty because he’s married, but Vashti is thoroughly irresistible to him. He tries not to give in to his fantasy’s demands, but he fails, realizing the attraction he feels is much too powerful to deny.

 

He invites Vashti to be in a movie, and he wants to begin making love to her right then, but he doesn’t, as both of them are married, but he wants to anyway; he finds Vashti to be the most beautiful woman in the world. He comes to the university where she teaches, and Vashti is in the audience, and Vashti loves how Thomas Higginson performs, but Vashti is married to a non-poet spouse, because beautiful Vashti was raped and became pregnant from that when she was fifteen. Then Vashti meets the man she marries three weeks after the abortion… He is not sensitive to what has happened to her; she is 16 when they meet, Wesley is 23, not a good match at all. Thomas is a much better man for Vashti; he always knew this, but takes a little longer for Thomas to charm Vashti twenty-five years later when his weight gain worries him that he will not be attractive to his fantasy woman.

 

During the twenty-five years since they meet in person for Thomas’s movie, Vashti marries an infertile man, and almost doesn’t get to have a child of her own. Vashti’s spouse cannot accept his infertility, and refuses to accept a sperm donor, but Vashti insists on having a child.

 

And ultimately this child more like Vashti than anyone else in the world causes the dissolution of a marriage that never should have happened, but Vashti’s mother was only too glad to get Vashti married off, and since Wesley was interested, Vashti’s mother agrees to the teenage Vashti marrying a man much too old for her. Now that Vashti is free, and Thomas Higginson’s wife has died, Thomas and Vashti become friends on Facebook, and as soon as Vashti changes her relationship status, he contacts Vashti, as he has during those years since the filming of his movie in 1988, as friends not as lovers.. Once Vashti finally divorces in 2013, this sexually repressed woman tries online dating and is extremely disappointed, so when Thomas contacts her to begin dating, Vashti is occupied with a man from an online service, and Thomas has to wait a little longer. But Vashti soon realizes what Thomas wants, and Vashti is fascinated, although this man has gained a lot of weight, at least thirty pounds. But after 25 years, this man and woman meet, and Thomas is delighted, but Vashti fears that she cannot compete with the fantasy version of herself, and they agree to meet in Chicago, once Thomas is convinced that she will become involved with the man from online dating, and when they meet, there’s instant attraction, and Thomas makes good on everything he has promised Vashti. Vashti has the best intimacy, best kisses, best sex of her life.

 

 

 

 

Cover of NKH

EMPOWERED

Just walked nearly two miles on my treadmill, and as I walked, I realized that younger women have nothing on me. Not being my usual self-deprecating self; I have earned this vanity.

 

I LOOK GOOD! –And my hair swung wildly and rhythmically to Mansion Air, hold Me Down, (LCAW remix)… I will be 62 years old at the end of next month, and while I have these looks, I shall exploit them.

 

 

On Wednesday, I’m having my hair done for the author photo that will be on my new book, Persea Books, September 2016, “Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code”   –my eleventh book, and my best.

 

wannabe_front

My son will capture this photo, and I will be wearing a red dress, that I may need to purchase on Thursday; either way, I will look good. I have long hair and a figure that many women envy, and I know this.

 

I did think it best not to feel this way about something as fleeting as beauty, but no more! –while I’ve got this, I intend to enjoy it! I will post a new pic as soon as I have it,

 

and when my other book has representation, will be my twelfth, NKH I mean, because it will, I will travel to Chicago so that Tony Smith can photograph me for that.

 

“Looking for Forker Gyrl[1]

IN

NKH: New Kiss Horizon

 

by Adorabilis Flapjack[2] Tardis[3]


(Thylias Moss)

 

Will be only the start of something too wondrous for me to imagine –but it’s going to happen. I could see that clearly as I walked the final two miles to it.

 

I no longer need for anyone else to tell me that I am a beautiful woman, I know that I am.

 

I no longer need for anyone to tell me that I’m smart. I know that I am.

 

And “Wannabe” proves that this beautiful woman also has brains.

Lots of brains. Lots of booty and brains. AND ALL OF IT LOOKS GOOD!

 

 

My heart does indeed belong to someone; I’ve given it to him, and it’s his if he wants it, but, as I was walking this morning, I realized and accepted how beautiful I am… I can get a man, of that I have no doubt. None at all. The brains, the ideas may intimidate many men, but not the right man for me.

 

Up to him to claim me before someone else does…

 

What more could any man reasonably want?

 

 

I can (and sometimes do) put younger women to shame!

I am a prize, and I know it; I’m not going to pretend I’m not. No apologies.

 

Thank you

[1] ‘Forker Gryle” –names for “limited fork theory” <http://www.4orkology.com&gt;

[2] http://www.counton2.com/story/29374423/adorable-new-octopus-species-discovered-in-california

[3] TARDIS from wikipedia, < https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimension In Space) a most unusual, living space ship, female space vehicle of time travel, etc.

 

In Need of Agent

Hello, everything is progressing as it should! –my eleventh book remains scheduled for publication in September 2016, a new and selected volume of poetry, “Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code” –I’m extremely excited about this! (to be published, like many of my other published volumes of poetry, by Persea Books)

I will also be writing  book about my father; he was a very special man, who supported me through everything, and did not believe in hitting, as that was no way to indicate love, and that’s why I was never hit as a child.  If you love something, you do not hit it! –even if you’re God, or Jesus; you do not hit, you do not use that power to bully or threaten anyone. And you don’t rape Mary just because you need a son…

Calvin-tight crop 1950 copy

This was why he was opposed to ideas of Christian hell, this mostly Native American man whose father wasn’t black at all, Cherokee and Caucasian…

 

 

No threats of eternal punishment  just to get obedience; it should be choice, not mandate… Something my mother still does not comprehend, as she’s perfectly willing to acknowledge The Lord as her master… Not me! –no man is my “master”! —I refuse to have one; US slaves were freed! –my mother is  one of those who did not free themselves  psychologically; she remains “bound” just not physically.

My father’s father right here:

Frizzell Brasier copy

 My father was Cherokee, Black and a bit Caucasian like his father (who was only Native American and Caucasian).  And he grew up in the south at a time where segregation was the rule, yet his family defied that rule, by allowing the races to mix…

and I am a mix of both of them, and my black mother:

Selfie Friday #4

I had what many might consider to be an odd upbringing, a mother intent upon Christian hell as the place that I’m going.  Little did she know that the man she had married was teaching me something else, the most important lessons that I’ve ever been taught:

HOW TO TREAT WHAT IS AND SHOULD BE LOVED!

Some people doubt that I am truly “black” when they learn that I was never hit, that my relationship with my father bordered on ideal… I know tales of being whipped and spanked only through others, not through personal experience.  No extension cord beatings, no beatings at all. 

I would walk to church with my mother, and hear that I was going to hell, but the moment I got home, my father took me for very long walks, and wanted me to understand that there was no way that all could have been created before there was any awareness of the world, how new necessities would give rise to things people in bible days could not even imagine…

I grew up with dichotomies…

On these walks I was expected to interact with whatever I noticed; these walks took hours, and I always came home with a chapter of an alternative  “holy book”, volumes from the Golden Library of Knowledge: “Ants”, “Atoms”, Butterflies and Moths”, “Energy and Power”, “Engines”, “Mathematics”, The Moon”, “Space Flight”, Submarines:, “Prehistoric Animals”,  “The Body in Action” and “The Insect World” to name some of them.

Not books meant for girls..  My father was opposed to that, so raised me to partake of everything… He even created my first name for me, telling me when I was seven, that since there had never been a presence like mine in the world, I also needed a name that hadn’t been in the world… I get to define my name, a privilege and responsibility I do not take lightly.  

Every Sunday, I came home with one of these books that cost a quarter, and this way had chapters of an alternative bible… 

       Golden Book of Knowledge_Ants Golden Book of Knowledge_Atoms   Golden Book of Knowledge_Butterflies and Moths  Golden Book of Knowledge_Energy and Power Golden Book of Knowledge_Engines  Golden Book of Knowledge_Mathrmatics Golden Book of Knowledge_Moon Golden Book of Knowledge_Space Flight Golden Book of Knowledge_Submarines Golden Books of Knowledge_Prehistoric AnimalsGolden Book of Knowledge_Body in ActionGolden book of Knowledge_Insect World

I wasn’t raised according to conventional definitions and limitations of gender…

He died in 1980, the year before I graduated from Oberlin College, first in my class, a 4.11 GPA, lowest grade was an “A-” in an English class of all things…Something considered unusual for brown girls… for “girls” at all! –how surprised people were to see that it was me at the top of the class! –I graduated Phi Beta Kappa too. 

Tiny brown girl.

But without that “-” , no “limited fork” as I tried to find somewhere to put that idea, and the space created by the “-” was perfect for me to try to fill.  In every other class, I attained the ceiling easily, but only in English did I have a weakness, so I focused on English in grad school in Hew Hampshire working with Charles Simic currently reading another manuscript of mine: “LFMK: Looking for my Killer”

 (a prose poam from that collection  The Afterlife of Corpses” has been published online in issue 6 of One.)

Also the reason that my father rejected Christian hell, something that didn’t make sense to him; something that no father who loved his children would ever make, because this bullying method was no way to express love –and so my father was completely opposed to hitting.

But now, because of changes in my situation, I’ve written a very different kind of book, one with a potential to sell! –one that I even dare to hope becomes a movie; working on a final revision now of:

“Looking for Forker Gyrl”

IN

NKH: New Kiss Horizon

 

by Adorabilis Flapjack  Tardis

(Thylias Moss)

It is for this new book, that I need an agent! –poem: “Higginson Matters in Magnificent Culture of Myopia” is one of the new poems in “Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities Red Dress Code” –cover is not yet known but I do have a YouTube video of the same name:

This book, my eleventh, won’t be published until September 2016, but this other manuscript has so much more potential… The short story, “Mongongo Drupe” published in Callaloo,(Volume 38, Number 1, Winter 2015) is a chapter, in slightly different form of NKH (New Kiss Horizon)

Whole manuscript is really a bit of sex-positive feminism, but my fine publisher at Persea feels that this NKH book must wait until 2017 at the earliest, but I believe in this book so much, that I am willing to seek publication outside Persea

I did have an agent, long before I produced anything the nature of NKH, but because I published over the years, mostly literary poetry, and won many awards, including a MacArthur Fellowship, (aka “Genius award)  and two nominations for the National Book Critic Circle awards, for “Pyramid of Bone” and “Last Chance for the Tarzan Holler“, that agent dropped me and NOW I NEED ANOTHER, AND HAVE A BOOK WHERE AN AGENT COULD MAKE A DIFFERENCE.  NKH could be a very popular book, but Persea Books, as much as I love my publisher, would not be able to offer me the kind of dollars that are the potential of NKH, and I’m sure that this must violate something in the contract giving Persea first opportunity to publish all of my work, but the magnitude of NKH could be beyond anything that Persea can do… I would like this manuscript considered by publishing houses including but not limited to Persea –only an agent could get this manuscript read, and as much as I love my publisher, Persea is also acting as my agent; a conflict of interest right there; how can I expect my existing publisher to pay beyond what she’d have to?  –the only way is with a third party agent; contact me, and I’ll let you read parts of the manuscript…  I need money. 

and then you can decide if you’d like to represent NKH.  Thank you.

Pyramid of Bone Last Chance for the Tarzan Holler

I need an agent for NKH! –I am willing to break my contract with Persea in order to have this book… If you are or know of an agent, please contact me… I am presently revising NKH to make it as perfect as I can… It does include plenty of wonderful sex, and involves an unexpected couple , two sixty-somethings enjoying a weekend in Chicago… Fiction, of course! –but based on something I’ve long craved, being in a marriage not right for me from the time I was a teenager until I was 60, as I am in NKH…

That I can both imagine and write about what I’ve always wanted is a testimony to a need for love, a need for love that I choose! –and not love chosen for me, beginning with a rape when I was fifteen –hardly a good introduction to pleasures of the body that become realized finally in NKH, when the Adorabilis character is 60 years old,

If you are an agent or know of an agent, please contact me via comment to this message or on Facebook  where you can find me as: Thylias Moss

I NEED AN AGENT FOR NKH! I WILL COMPLETE MY REVISION SOON, AND ALTHOUGH PERSEA WILL PROBABLY WANT TO PUBLISH THIS BOOK, I AM WILLING TO RISK POSSIBLE CONTRACT VIOLATION IN ORDER TO HAVE AN AGENT ABLE TO SUBMIT THIS BOOK TO TOP PUBLISHING HOUSES… PLEASE LET ME KNOW…Thank you…