I bought a shack to be invisible.
What I got instead was a crowd of friendly nudists, a dubious telescope in the bushes, and Chloe, who laughed like she owned the sun and proceeded to take every corner of my life as if it were her own. I'm a veteran; my instincts are to hide, to fortify, to keep people at arm's length. Chloe's hands taught me a different language: one of sunscreen and saltwater and the slow luxury of being seen.
Living here is messy, erotic, and terrifying. The beach's unofficial mayor calls me a digger and a friend. A shy man in a hide watches from the headland. And the council's plan to carve a road down the hill threatens everything this place gives us. I have to decide whether safety means silence or whether safety might mean something I never expected: belonging.
WARNING: Not suitable for readers under eighteen years of age.
Autorentext
"Molly Freytag is a writer of naturist fiction. Further information may be found in her free Substack newsletter Nudeln or join her at Goodreads."