There are two types of girls who move to New York. One girl you’ll find standing in midtown, her mouth agape, eyes big like a Bratz Doll staring into the dizzying display of neon and billboard; her brain vibrating, silently screaming...
Burn everything beautiful in your world down. It can’t seduce you with its intoxicating eyes ever again. Watching her sleep was like floating on a cloud...
There are two types of girls who move to New York. One girl you’ll find standing in midtown, her mouth agape, eyes big like a Bratz Doll staring into the dizzying display of neon and billboard; her brain vibrating, silently screaming...
Burn everything beautiful in your world down. It can’t seduce you with its intoxicating eyes ever again. Watching her sleep was like floating on a cloud...
Summer in New York is a gay man who lives in a Hell’s Kitchen high-rise. The kind with a rooftop gym where state-of-the-art ellipticals stare into the polluted air of the midtown glare from well-endowed windows...
Nia Green felt like she was in a dream. She felt different than she’d ever felt before. Light. Airy. Like if she wasn’t careful, she’d ascend into the soft-blue Mid-August sky...
“I’ve had the craziest night. Like the craziest, craziest, craziest night,” Knife slurred to Violet, Gabriella, Imani, and Jack. They were tucked beneath the outdoor awning of Dolly’s, feverishly smoking cigarettes, chomping down gum...
The second Knife stumbled through the doors, she spotted her prey. Bar None was a dimly lit East Village dive notorious for its raucous college clientele...
Manhattan’s West Village is different from other neighborhoods. It’s like the sun beams directly on her cobblestone streets and historic gay bars. She sparkles...
Nia Green was about to become the biggest star in America. Her agents knew it. Her managers knew it. Jody Moritz, the indie darling director extraordinaire who’d just cast Nia as the ingénue in her first studio film, knew it...
Patra liked speed. Though she wasn’t one to turn down an expensive bump of coke — Patra liked to speed in her sexy, sparkling-white Porsche 911 Carrera S...
Violet was having a bad day. She’d awoken to an email from her literary agent informing her that not one publisher in New York was interested in buying her book: Come For Me: a wildly erotic series of personal essays detailing her tempestuous sex and dating life...
Knife wasn't her real name but no one in The City knew that. "My parents were big acid heads," she'd murmur cryptically anytime anyone asked her about her name, which was often...
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