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About Nice

I’m fired up, yeah—heart racin’. “Who controls the streets?” I’m thinkin’, quotin’ Carlos in my head—“I am the one who knocks!”—but nah, mate, it’s them. The girls, the pimps, the whole damn system. Saw this one bird—legs for days, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Fancy a chat?” she goes, all sly. I’m like—bloody hell, she’s bold! Made me happy, that—takes guts, don’t it? But then—anger hits. Why’s she gotta do this? World’s a right mess, innit?

Books by K.B. Oliver

The local neighborhoods, like Le Mas de la Mer, pack a punch; narrow alleys, graffiti walls that scream stories, sometimes they drive me mad with noise, sometimes they make me smile. There's beauty in chaos, like in every tense massage session where trust builds with every touch.

Corso fleuri (floral floats) in Provence