Two attractive, every-day (and very anonymous) women in the terrifying 1950s--in an unidentified U.S. city--discovered a wonderful thing together: freedom. Crack that nut and savor its insides, and you find passion, beauty, affection, friendship, love, and--yes--hot steamy sex. We're human. It comes with the territory. Follow your instincts and see where they lead you. This is such a story. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. Muriel and Sarah's beautiful summer was brief, never to return, but it left a wonderful place in their hearts that was as enduring as it would remain secret. This is not a story about labels (bi, les, whatever) but about two human beings who discovered something very special together in an age when they virtually risked their lives for such passion. Theirs remains even today a fulfilling relationship (often once in a lifetime) many continue to discover, and just as secretively. Today, over a hundred million women have eagerly purchased a trilogy (Fifty Shades of Grey) involving sado-masochistic sex. Surely, though Skyscraper Secrets is as erotic and explicit as it is warm and loving, a simple love affair between two human beings cannot elicit the same horror it did half a century ago--or could it? We each must judge for ourselves--honestly and fairly. For Muriel and Sarah, it is just that one time, in that special place, never to be forgotten, before they move on with what society considers a vanilla life style without exotic flavorings of any kind. But the taste of that special truth and that freedom lingers in their memory like the tang of a summer blossom. You could say it is a rare flower that blooms only once in its life, and soon withers away into memory, gone but not forgotten. We were going to provide some background information about the 1950s English-speaking world to explain the author's claims that it was a horrific era, but the information we gathered was so horrific that we decided not to include it in what is essentially intended as an entertainment. Take our word for it--the 1950s were in too many ways like one big, long newsreel out of Kafka or Orwell. We'll never learn the real names of our Sarah and our Muriel, nor the city in which they experienced a summer of wonder. As you will quickly learn while reading Sarah's secret journal (written years later, largely from her long-ago memories) she and the somewhat older Muriel were two independent and unique spirits, whose self-direction ran counter to the regimentation imposed by their world. If you never lived a summer like that of Muriel and Sarah, long ago in the 1950s, but you are secretly curious, you will understand, deep in your heart, how they found refuge together, and love discovered them, in a cozy nook of light and warmth in a cold, gray U.S. city--a city essentially part of a society that was caught up in a vast Cold War within its heart. Muriel and Sarah were swimmers on a fathomless sea, sailing by the stars, without a guide book or a compass. Such a total, physical, heart and soul crush may happen once in a woman's life, never to be repeated. Those who have been so lucky will carry their secret forever--hidden silently & deeply in their heart, borne with a mysterious smile and slight goddess glow. They go their separate ways... marry, have children, live in leafy suburbs far apart...but neither will ever forget the other. Their brief summer leaves its mark, like a long, warm afternoon - an endless sunset glowing around paired swimmers on a fathomless sea, alone and together at the same time. They will forever treasure its light, and you will be glad Sarah wrote this erotic, loving memoir many years later. She captures a perfect time, moment by sensuous and delicious moment, explicit and breathless, like a favorite love song on a radio playing over and over again to its fiery but cool sunset fade...