An anthology of erotic tales putting you at the centre of the story
About the Author: Ida T. Heurtze... An Introduction By N. J. Winnington Ida T. Heurtze... Not to be confused with Ida A. Hertze who lives in the Everglades in Florida with her budgie called Cecil (Who she insists on calling Seesil, which is wrong on account of us being English, and therefore right!) and writes travel guides for alligators... Ida T. Heurtze lives alone with her pet dog Dougal (who she says she has taught to lick... whatever that means...anybody?) and her goat Billy in a smallholding just outside Nark in Scotland, which is a little place full of angry men in skirts and Mel Gibson look-alikes some way north of Watford, which is a little village in England. Watford in England, for our American friends, is a place other than London which we invented to have somewhere for our trains to go. Ida is celibate apart from the rare occasion that she has sex, and learned everything she knows about physical love from reading Mills and Boone and a man called Hamish McDuff from the Clan McDuff and her Aunt Edith who hated men and lived with a man called Mary. She inherited her German sounding name from her father who was Scottish and also had a German name. How he came by it nobody knows but it can be certain it wasn't in a card game because he was very bad at gambling and once lost his way in a bet with an Irishman who got there first. At this point I'd like to make clear that rumours I used a gagging order to silence the press from reporting an illicit affair with a fairground goldfish called Daphne are wholly groundless and I can prove beyond question that at the time the alleged incident took place I was in fact rescuing a goat from a mineshaft, which unbeknown to me had been chained to the railway sleeper I threw down said shaft to find out how deep it was. The sight of a distressed goat hurtling toward me in the twilight was quite distressing for me and probably for the goat too! My extensive efforts, over the next five minutes, to retrieve the animal came to nothing. However I maintain that my being there clearly refutes any possibility that I could have been simultaneously in a fairground near Cleethorpes serenading a goldfish called Daphne! I receive Ida's manuscripts wrapped around a brick, which is proving costly in window panes, so please buy some books!