anna bell peaks swallows begins at 3:17 a.m. in a hotel suite. City glow through half-open blinds stripes her restless body. She can’t sleep, so anna bell peaks swallows becomes her lullaby. Slow, almost lazy circles over silk panties gradually soak the fabric dark. In anna bell peaks swallows, she pushes them aside instead of removing them—impatient, perfect. Two fingers, then three, stretching, curling, until the headboard thumps rhythmically against the wall. When she finally comes in anna bell peaks swallows, it’s with a muffled scream into the pillow, whole body shaking so hard the mattress springs sing. Dawn finds her asleep in tangled sheets, panties still twisted to the side—proof that anna bell peaks swallows worked better than any sleeping pill.