Marelyn Pressle

About me:

Marelyn Pressle, a fictitious name if there ever was one.

Obviously this is a pen name, names have been changed to protect the innocent. I assure you, most of what you will come to believe about Marelyn is really me, in some form or another. When I say that the pen name is to protect the innocent, I am certainly not speaking of myself, but of those closest to me, who might be affected by what I choose to write.

What do I write? Mostly about women. Women who are passionate, both sexually and in their personal beliefs. Women who cook, shop, curse, praise, have sex and have babies. Strong women, not afraid to say to the world, “This is me! I fart, fuck, fear and foul up! Kiss my ass if you can’t handle it.”

No woman that I write about is a carbon copy of any woman I know or have known, simply amalgamations of women I know, know of, hate and admire. Bitches, sluts, princesses, saints and sinners, we hold the keys to the universe but often are more tempted by the gates to hell.

When I write about the women, I have to include the men in their lives. Ah, men. I truly love them, but with modern technology being what it is, some of you men best step up your game, because you CAN be replaced!

Some day I will write about the men in my life, the young ones and the old ones, the ones I gave birth to and the ones for whom I gave birth.

Suffice it to say that I have had two former lovers who pursued me, then once they had me, complained about wanting to be left alone.

Be careful what you wish for, boys!

I believe I have gotten it right this time, at least I have faith. I define faith as your heart truly believing what your head knows cannot be. Nowhere is that more true than in a relationship.

So the men I write about encompass the high- and low-lights of my romantic past and present.

I grew up and remain in Southern California, some forty miles from my place of birth. I was always one of those bright kids, the one who is always ‘teacher’s pet’, amazing people with my brilliance. It’s been more than three decades since grade school, and I have not yet set the world on fire! My first grade teacher must be so ashamed!

Since I find myself unqualified to do anything else, I write.

It keeps me from going insane and taking everyone I know with me.

My true love hopes it will one day pay the bills, and if anyone deserves to be a kept man, it is he!

After all, it’s never too late!

M.P.