37 Stories About 37 Women: A Collection of Edgy Stories by Brian Whitney

Fanny Press has added a new category to its list: Edgy Fiction. 37 Stories About 37 Women (ISBN: 978-1-60381-506-2, 114 pp., $11.95), is a collection of short stories by new author Brian Whitney.

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“Whitney’s got a style that reminds me a bit of what would happen if you combined Raymond Carver with Charles Bukowski, with a healthy dash of Tucker Max. Creepy sexual couplings and emotional pain filtered through a distant, near-minimalism ….  Whitney has a wonderful style that is distinctive, clean and extremely readable …. To have left such a collection of miserable people and experiences and finding myself thinking about the fine writing is no small authorial feat. If you are a fan of extremely short stories, bordering on flash fiction, you will want to give this collection a look, but mostly this collection is for the misery dwellers amongst us, myself included, who just want to experience the worst people bring to the table. If you are the sort who cannot help but listen to the couple arguing at the table next to yours at the restaurant, rubbernecking at the car crashes of human relationships, you’ll find much to love in this collection.”  Read more …

—Anita Dalton, I Read Odd Books.com

“Not your typical romance novel, Brian Whitney’s book 37 Stories About 37 Women is a series of dark and edgy stories with a sarcastic and cynically odd humor to each. It reminded me a bit of that odd feeling you got after watching Precious. The reality hitting of intros that may not say “based on a true story” do not necessarily mean that somewhere someone is experiencing this exact type of tragedy . Although not an erotic novel, the stories do have quite a bit of distorted sexual content; what you might call a peep hole to very dysfunctional women’s relationships.  Like any true rubber necker, you simply can’t stop yourself from wanting to see the extent of the damage, and thus you want to continue reading Whitney’s tragic stories of these dysfunctional relationships.”

—Vanessa, for Ego Magazine

[Click here to see this review and read an interview with Brian Whitney.]

“Experience sex and drugs from the seamy side of the tracks in this Canterbury Tales for adults…. This is not a “happy” book. In fact, it contains more realism than most people would like. But that just may be what makes it such a unique book …. [Whitney’s] brand of writing as well as his subject matter probably won’t appeal to everyone, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You should give this book a shot just see if you’re one of the unique readers that will become an instant fan.”  Read more ….
—Lynn Cunningham, Fresh Fiction

“I wanted to hate the author for his callous attitude. I couldn’t quite manage that, though, because despite all the darkness, there are sparks of genius in this book.”  Read more …
–Lisabet Sarai, Erotica Revealed

“Women face many different paths through their lives, and they impact all of them differently. 37 Stories About 37 Women is a collection of short fiction as Brian Whitney writes of these individuals and the challenges they face, going deep into the spice of sex, working women, and everything in between. No holds barred reading, 37 Stories About 37 Women is an enticing read that should prove hard to put down.”
—Midwest Book Review

“Murky, lascivious tales of sex, relationships and addiction.”
—Altvariety.com

“Whitney took me on a ride that made me question all I know about women, relationships and getting laid. What a funny, sexy, nasty little book.”
—Patrick Quinlan, author of Smoked

“A cross between McCarthy’s minimalism and Palahniuk’s transgressive fiction, Whitney’s prose is sexy, sardonic, and sparse. If music is the space between the notes, the beauty of 37 Stories is the space between the words. Whitney’s brilliantly salacious narrative is metered out without ebullience or judgment, leaving the reader to condemn or condone as he sees fit. A rare gem that is equally erotic and literary.”
—Glenn Hopper, writer and producer of The Hanged Man

“Raunchy, funny, and thoroughly disturbing, Whitney’s raw stories are as addictive as salty peanut from the first drug addicted mother to the final beaten girlfriend. The collection of stark vignettes unfolds in a manner not unlike what I’d imagine watching an autopsy performed on a particularly sexy corpse—albeit one with a huge, jiggly rear end. Cheers to the author’s world of happy, crack dealing exhibitionists, and naked cheaters hiding under too-small pillows. A vulgar and truly entertaining read.”
—Cole Alpaugh, author of The Turtle-Girl from East Pukapuka

“This electrifying collection of interwoven stories tells tales of appalling behavior that would be excruciatingly unbearable in other hands. I didn’t admire any of these characters but I sure wanted to know more about them. This book is as raw as fiction gets!”
—Mort Todd, Former Editor-in-Chief, Cracked magazine

A prisoner, a waitress, a virgin, a psychic …. These are a few of the 37 women featured in Brian Whitney’s slim but potent debut collection. Told through the points of view of sex addicts and their willing victims, these stories seduce the reader with their spare, rhythmic prose and hypnotic storytelling. Whitney reveals the dark side of relationships in permissive times—the drugs, the scamming, the cheating, the neediness, the love that somehow survives it all. Erotic, unflinching, surprisingly perceptive, this book will change forever the way you view the battle of the sexes.

Says Whitney, “These stories are not just about the bad boy and why he does the things that he does to destroy lives. They are also about the women who involve themselves with the men such as these. Why do they stay and why do they debase themselves? Some of you have never met anyone like the people in these stories. Others will recognize a friend, a former boyfriend or girlfriend, or even themselves. I think everyone that reads them will be affected in a certain way. I challenge you to see for yourself.”

Brian Whitney has been a counselor, a landscaper, and a case worker at a homeless shelter. His interests include ruminating, perseverating and hanging out in bad places. If you have a Great Dane he will like you immediately. Coming soon: Brian’s second collection of stories, Romance. You can find Brian online at Whitney.fannypress.com.

Keep reading for an excerpt:

Did it last three years or more?

I can’t remember how long. I do remember I would build it up when you were away. You were nineteen when it started and I was thirty-six, I think. Married, of course. In emails I would fill your head with words telling you how I missed you and that I could not wait to see you over Thanksgiving break.

But then usually when you came home I would just see you once. For an hour or so. This confused you and made you sad but once you went back to college I would begin again. I would appease you and fill those lonely nights away with something to look forward to when you came home. The fact that you had no boyfriend, or that maybe sometimes you didn’t fit in at this exclusive college in California was diluted by my words and the idea that there was something “different” in your life. Something your rich college friends wouldn’t understand.

For me when you came home I felt as if I had to back up everything I’d written, when in reality I was really just enjoying keeping you. Sort of like an object on a shelf that one doesn’t really enjoy but impresses dinner guests.

When you were away you made my boring marriage seem more exciting but when you were there I just wanted to hide. Not because I didn’t like fucking you. I did. It was more having to live up to all the bullshit I had been saying when in reality as soon as I fucked you I became sated and could easily have waited another six months. While you wanted to lie in my arms and talk, I could not wait to leave.

I did love one thing, though. I loved how you had no bedroom when you visited your mom. You slept on a mattress under the stairs on the first floor, where there was an open space. Your mom was a nurse and slept upstairs. She worked nights so just about every time I fucked you—right out in the open, beneath the stairs—your mother was sound asleep upstairs.

It was incredibly easy to get you off. You were my type—a ridiculous round ass, silly boobs, a little belly for me to slap. You came quickest on top and when you did you would hold your arms up and make this odd little sound, trying to keep quiet so your mom would not wake and look down the stairs and see you riding my cock.

It was sexy taking you like that.

I often used to wonder what your mother looked like, whether I could meet her somehow, date her when you were away. Then, while you slept at the foot of the stairs, maybe I could fuck her, too. Maybe, when she started to come, I could pull my scarf around her neck a little tighter. So that she would not wake her daughter.

If I’d been fucking your mom, I would have wanted to see you a lot more. Promise.

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