Francis Talais

My partner and I live in the lower mainland of beautiful British Columbia. With our two mad attack cats, okay one only attacks her food with any gusto, everything else is done in a Manyana pace, and the other one is occasionally possessed by uncontrollable fits of scamper induced madness, usually at two in the morning.

In my private corner of the heritage property we own, I write to the erotic muse stirring inside, when no one is watching or having fun with themselves. That’s baring the intrusion of noisy squirrels, pesky raccoons or the incessant squabble of crows and blue jays.

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