Alice and Francis spend fiery days in a daily life “where every day is Sunday”. Four years of discovering yourself, loving yourself, feeling yourself, swooning and vibrating without censorship in all the areas that keep the flame alive. Between confessed fantasies and missed evenings, the duo manages to find themselves where they need to be, falling in love again every moment. Continuation ofWe sleep together, We still sleep together praises a flamboyant and assumed sexuality, of a couple who have found each other and have no intention of letting go. Alternating between explicit prose written by Juteau and the poetry of Lacroix, the form embraces the eagerness and ardor of their antics. The writing charged with sexual tension is offered like a good old Midnight blue, while poetry reveals moments sketched from life, intense and brief, a mixed form which merges just as naturally as the authors. The unmistakable cover, illustrated by Jimmy Beaulieu, deliciously and sensually opens this erotic romance novel which is avid reading.
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