I’m Tack Morgan, and I’m Las Vegas Magazine’s Sexiest Man. I’m the host of the most listened-to morning drive-time show on Vegas’s FM dial.
I’m also in therapy for sexual harassment.
My therapist is the one making me write this. The doc says it’ll help put things into perspective.
To be clear, I don’t have sexual harassment issues. I have sexual frustration issues.
And it’s totally not my fault.
That responsibility rests squarely with the person I’m being accused of harassing. I see her each and every weekday morning at the ungodly hour of 6 am.
Funny. I used to think that was the best time of the whole day. I lived for starting my mornings so early, not seeing my bed until many, many hours later.
Unless it was for recreation.
At the risk of sounding cocky, I recreated a lot.
Sex is my sport of choice. Or at least it was, until Jen waltzed through the station door and announced she was my new morning-show co-host.
I swear, she’s developed some sort of pheromone-canceling ESP that follows me around everywhere and cockblocks me at every turn. I haven’t gotten laid in… too long.
Honestly, I haven’t been keeping track.
Actually, yes, I have.
It’s been two months.
Coincidentally, that’s exactly how long Jensen McKenzie has been my co-host.
I don’t think my balls can get any bluer.
Goodreads Link: Click Here
About The Author:
I’ve been writing stuff for other people to see since I was just shy of five years old and read my cousin’s copy of ‘Charlotte’s Web.’ I wrote my glowing opinion (and a few study questions) all over the nice tan hardcover. *singing* I got to keep it, I got to keep it… (and I still have it. Somewhere.)
I’ll read anything. Books, magazines, cereal boxes, shampoo bottles, junk mail… and liner notes. Boy HOWDY on the liner notes! I’m a total rock music junkie, and collect old vinyl, ‘cause nothing can beat the intricate details you can see on a twelve-by-twelve album cover. But I don’t discriminate. You can’t pry my mp3 out of my hands most days.
When I’m not reading, I’m writing (both into the wee hours of the morning) and have an unfettered love affair with caffeine in all its magical forms.
I grew up in and around Cleveland, Ohio, spent most of a decade in Sacramento (and consider that home), and currently live in a suburb of Albuquerque, New Mexico with my husband and college-student son. By day, I peddle smut (Seriously, I do. I own an adult store/headshop) and screw around online. Facebook is a giant timesuck, and I love it there (StevieKisner), and you can also find separate (and still useless) ramblings on StevieKisner.com.
I’ll read anything. Books, magazines, cereal boxes, shampoo bottles, junk mail… and liner notes. Boy HOWDY on the liner notes! I’m a total rock music junkie, and collect old vinyl, ‘cause nothing can beat the intricate details you can see on a twelve-by-twelve album cover. But I don’t discriminate. You can’t pry my mp3 out of my hands most days.
When I’m not reading, I’m writing (both into the wee hours of the morning) and have an unfettered love affair with caffeine in all its magical forms.
I grew up in and around Cleveland, Ohio, spent most of a decade in Sacramento (and consider that home), and currently live in a suburb of Albuquerque, New Mexico with my husband and college-student son. By day, I peddle smut (Seriously, I do. I own an adult store/headshop) and screw around online. Facebook is a giant timesuck, and I love it there (StevieKisner), and you can also find separate (and still useless) ramblings on StevieKisner.com.
Stalker Links: