Move over monks, fae scholars, and dusty tomes. The true author of the Carnal Sutra (Fantasy Edition) has finally come forward. And shockingly, it isn't a learned sage, sultry bard, or demon-touched scholar. No, dear readers, the scandalous author is none other than CBW reporter Dolly, the sweet tea–sippin', pie-bakin' Southern grandmother of the Crack Between Worlds newsroom.

The revelation came during what was meant to be an ordinary interview over pralines and peach brandy. Three glasses in, Dolly leaned across the table and dropped the bombshell that has since set the multiverse ablaze.

"Sugar, those positions didn't just invent themselves," Dolly divulged with a mischievous wink. "Somebody had to teach the elves how to bend."

Dolly's confession has sent ripples through every corner of the Crack Between Worlds. Bards who had long sung of their own supposed authorship fell silent, orcs abandoned their claims, and centaurs reportedly held an emergency council to discuss the revelation.

But Dolly insists the truth has always been hers, and she even provided proof. Producing an old quilt square from her cedar chest, she flipped the design sideways with a mischievous grin.

"See this quilt square? Looks like a pretty pattern, doesn't it?" Dolly asked with a grin lighting up her face. "Tilt it just so, and suddenly you've got the Centaur Cantilever. That's page thirty-two, dearie."

The revelation left onlookers stunned and more than a little red-faced.

Asked about the origins of her work, Dolly was coy but suggestive. She claimed that the Fantasy Edition was penned during her so-called "wild years," long before she stumbled into the Crack.

"Let's just say dragons weren't the only thing I was ridin' back then," she added, sending a Crack Observer photographer in the corner into a coughing fit.

While Dolly refused to elaborate further, sources confirm that her past is filled with enough intrigue to fuel at least three more volumes.

Elven Scholars Furious: "This dishonors centuries of flexibility!"

Orc Warlords Excited: "Finally, validation for the Battle Axe Split!"

Clerics Warning: "Avoid page 69. Too unholy to be spoken aloud."

Library officials corroborated Dolly's claims when a long-lost chapter, The Griffin's Perch, suddenly reappeared in the archives. The pages bore Dolly's unmistakable signature, along with a faint aroma of cinnamon rolls.

Scholars were divided. Some hailed it as the most important literary rediscovery in centuries. Others, particularly clerics, declared it "an affront to morality and lumbar support."

Since her confession, Dolly's bakery sales have skyrocketed, although we haven't been able to confirm whether Dolly actually sells her bakery products. Hopeful romantics now whisper that her pies are more than just dessert and that her brambleberry pie is an aphrodisiac in disguise. Dolly refuses to confirm or deny the rumor, though she did offer a sly recommendation: "Serve it warm, with extra whipped cream."

Orc warlords have reportedly placed bulk orders, and one goblin was overheard selling black-market slices of Dolly's cobbler for triple the price.

When pressed on why she waited so long to claim credit, Dolly sighed, dabbed the corner of her mouth with a gingham napkin, and explained, "Honey, I been waitin' for grandbabies for decades. If my own children won't carry on my legacy, then at least history will."

With that, Dolly blew a kiss to the photographer in the corner, hands provocatively kneading dough.