Search Results for: "discipline"

New MM Freebie of the Month, Plus How To Trick Your Brain 🐢

Hey, peeps!


Okay, you know how I keep saying sometimes you need to trick your brain into doing something? Well, I think I found a way to trick my brain into having fun instead of slamming it repeatedly on the desk in absolute boredom when it comes to editing the old books. How? Audiobooks.

I’ve been playing around with the video software I got to record and edit the speed paint thingies, and I realized it had an audio function, and me no audio. Now, I’ve avoided the whole audiobook thing. It’s a shit ton of money to start off in a lot of cases. I’m talking like 1/2 a grand to a thousand dollars to hire a narrator and a studio to get a book recorded. It’s also time consuming, and usually someone else is involved. Someone to sign a contract with because they’re fronting some of the costs to get this audiobook made. The whole thing turned me off because I like simple, easy, no strings. That’s why I liked self publishing. That’s why I get so affronted with censorship bs—I don’t like being held back from doing the things I want to do, when I want to do them. Freedom at the cost of being an outsider, usually.

Anywho, I found myself asking, ‘Just how fucking hard is it to make an audiobook, really?’ I have the content (the text), I have a recorder, and a way to edit audio. All I need is a voice. So I did some research to find the least annoying synthetic voice out there and gave it a shot. And in about 4 hours, I had made this.

It was fun. Lol, it’s still fun, the process is becoming faster as I figure it all out, because I just finished up recording the rest of the Demon Bonded Episodes so far. And I’m all, OMG, I want this for all my books! But all my books aren’t so well edited, and have some annoying writing patterns I don’t use anymore. So there, that’s my motivation. A mix of neurotic completionism of making audiobooks for all the books, and fun with playing with tech. Yay!

I plan to have all my books made into audiobooks in a way where I can sell them for the same price as an ebook. Audiobooks usually cost more, mostly because of all the other people involved, plus the cost of cloud storage—audio files can get freaking huge. Once I get all the components together on the selling front, you should be able to pick up the Demon Bonded episodes for $0.99 each, or audio bundles for $2.99 (same price as the Demon Bonded Collection books.) Plus the freebies will be free on the website.

This is the kind of shit I love. It’s good enough. XD And yeah, that might sound sloppy, or half-assed, or what have you, but I’m sick of watching people break their backs (myself included) reaching for perfection instead of being happy with what’s in front of them. No, the synthetic voice doesn’t read perfectly. But it’s good enough, it’s a fast process, and it’s inexpensive, meaning the end result can also be inexpensive for listeners. If I started self publishing by hiring a cover artists and editor and what have you, would I have ever had gotten anywhere? I’d have been broke—fuck, I was already broke. XD Lol. I’m a total do-it-yourselfer and I love it. It’s fun and there are so many resources these days to get professional results without the price.

Interactive Novel

Speaking of fun and tech, btw… So, you know that interactive novel I want to make? The Demon Virus Sequel? The one I was talking about a few weeks ago where it’s like a choose your own, but instead of hitting dead ends, you discover secret, sexy story paths and scenes? Okay, so my brain is on it again—also outlined more Sorcerer Slayer and the next Demon Bonded—oh, and Hellcat has 2 scenes left. Pretty sure they’ll be done this weekend if I don’t go crazy with the audiobooks. Anyways, interactive novel. I was thinking how to plot it. I have these scenes but I want a visual, I want a way for people to simply select and move forward in the story and not get confused when they want to go back for a different branch. Then I was thinking of old school Mario Brothers. You know when you’d complete a level and they’d shoot you to the map, and a new level would open up? That’s what I want to do, but for a story. Text and a Story Map.

I’m envisioning something like chapters being levels, and in each chapter you have the ability to unlock certain scenes, or branches to the story. When you unlock something, it pops up on the story map that you can select and read. You would have to unlock a certain amount—the key plot conflict points—to progress to the next level, aka chapter. If you unlock all the special scenes and story branches, I want to make it so you can unlock a totally different story arc, maybe a new character and everything. XD I think it’ll be fun. And it won’t be like a video game where you’re doing repetitive tasks, it’s still just reading. How you unlock things would be by the choices you make in a story scene. You decide if the character goes into the scary dark room (where a sexy monster awaits) or goes back to the party—that sort of thing. <3

Or maybe you need to find a ‘key’ in the text, like clues, that can be used as passwords to unlock other doors! Oh, or I might have ‘items’ you get when you complete certain scenes that can be used to defeat the conflict in other scenes, where, if you didn’t find that item, you wouldn’t be able to beat the scene and unlock a new one. I have so many ideas. XD Puzzles and choices but nothing tedious and grinding–the only grinding should be between the characters. *wink*

I’ll have to learn some basic game programming—but it feels really basic. Switches and branches, nothing complex at all. My biggest issue atm is just learning enough to figure out what software will give me what I want without extra shit I would just find confusing at this stage. I’m not sure if I want people to have to play the game through repeatedly—you know, once you pick a story path, you have to stick to it until you get to the very end, and only once you finish the book/game, will you be able to try a new story path. But have a way to save the data so they can see the choices they made and be able to unlock the other levels—until finally they unlock the bonus ending!

Okay, I might be crazy excited about this idea. XD It’s just so fun. Lol, and this is what I need when writing—fun! I can’t do boring, repetitive shit anymore. I used to RPG, I used to read (all the time,) I used to dedicate hours to television distractions. My brain wants to DO things, make things, and this is the way it has fun. So as long as I can find the fun in it, I can keep creating and getting shit done.

That’s another thing. I’m choosing fun. I’m choosing happy. When I find myself at a crossroads, that’s what I want. Fun and happy. Lol, and no, I don’t feel a single fucking bad thing about it. XD You ever find some people want to just drag you down, they want you to take shit so seriously and have decided life isn’t supposed to be happy? I’m good. Life is what you make of it and I’m choosing happy. Rose-colored glasses all the way. <3

Last Week Catchup

Oh, also, sorry I missed so many emails last week. I know, it’s becoming a ‘thing.’ @[email protected] I do read them all, and have grand expectations to answer—you gals and guys are fucking amazing with such varied lives, and I love hearing about them all—and then life happens and the moment passes as I’m caught up doing something else.

Much love to the people who have had their lives torn apart because of careless doctors, and the wish to trust and have faith in an expert. We want answers that come easily, we want to know it’s all going to be alright, and sometimes it’s that blind hope that leads to more problems. My adoptive dad actually ended up without a working stomach for the rest of his life after a doctor made a really dumb mistake during surgery, and bile backed up and nearly killed him. They tied his esophagus to his intestines to save his life after the mistake, and it took him years to recover. And no, I don’t think it’s these individual doctors, that they’re there to hurt people. If anything, I think they’re working their asses off in a system so stressful, it’s hard to not sink beneath. 300-400 physicians kill themselves annually in the US. The current system of medicine isn’t just hurting patients but also the people in it.

Also, as much as I love my brother, I have to face the fact that he was the idiot who didn’t stand up for himself. He’s an adult who is still refusing to question another adult when it comes to his own mental and emotional health. If he hadn’t asked me for a pill cutter, I never even would have known he was about to take a psych med after going in for a cold.

And that is where I find my peace. It’s not my job to freak out for him. It’s not my job to hold his hand through life and make sure he doesn’t fuck up. I learned my lessons because I fucked up big time—repeatedly—and I’m not about to forget. Ever. XD If he wants to be so blithe, that’s his path. As long as he doesn’t go on a killing spree over the meds prescribed him, I really don’t need to freak out. I can calmly (one day, when I don’t get triggered @[email protected] ) still remind him he’s likely bipolar and should research any med he adds to his system.

But it’s still his choice, still his life, and there is little more I can do without taking it over for him—I’ve got way too much shit I want to do to take on that fucking job, btw. Just sayin. I’m glad I was paying attention, but he should have been taking care of himself and thinking.

Freebie Of The Month

Okay, I’m going to fly. HEAT is free this month, and don’t miss out on the audiobook–I think you can download it from soundcloud. Pretty sure I haven’t had Heat free in a while. I seriously need to make a schedule so I don’t keep forgetting… Ugh. I swear we created computers to have a brain outside our brain that could just hold onto all the shit we really don’t need to know until moments like these.

All You Need Is Love: A Limited Edition Collection – $0.99

Romance Collections is proud to present these fourteen stories of love that know no boundaries. Like rivers flowing through the canvas of earth, these stories will run deep, touch softly and leave you breathless.

No matter who it is with, passion is magnificent, desires are bold, and love is beautiful.


Saving the Omega: M/M Paranormal Dystopian Romance – $0.99

M/M Dystopian, Paranormal romance. Standalone story.

In a world where only paranormals survived…

A cruel virus wiped out all humans. Now there’s a war between the supernatural factions…

Life is bleak for Angus. As a wolf shifter, living under vampire rule is intolerable. He hates the rules. He hates their power. He hates not having control over the lives of his pack.

He keeps himself under tight control…until he cracks. A young wolf is being beaten by his mate. Unforgivable. Angus reacts and everything changes. Saving Clayton may just turn the tide for everyone, including the true Alpha in Angus.

This new world for Clayton is hell, and living with an abusive mate makes everything worse. But when Angus saves him from that torture, for once in his life there is an inkling of hope

With jealous pack mates and vindictive rival gangs on their doorstep, danger is around every corner. Can Clayton pull on his Omega strength for his Alpha, and will Angus accept the love only his true Omega can bring.

***short, sexy Dystopian M/M. Guaranteed Happily ever after.***

Omega’s Mate: An MM Mpreg Romance

Everything is possible. Nothing is what it seems…

Ryan: Fate led me to Tristan Whitaker, the infamous alpha hero from Frisky Pines. When a hunter aimed his rifle my way, I thought my life was over. Tristan swooped in and saved my life. As soon as I saw him, I knew I was in over my head.

I wasn’t looking for a mate, but he swept me off my feet, literally. When I woke in his arms, I knew my life was going to change forever. Together, we decided to have a baby. I was the happiest omega in the world. What I didn’t realize was that the fate of the world then depended on us…



HEAT: Abducted To Be His Mate – free

Ryan Moss is a werewolf long separated from his pack. He has no idea how dangerous his heat is until he finds himself stalking down the closest available bachelor. Unfortunately for Ryan, his wolf finds Shane Cooper, the gay bashing, angry, rich punk that’s been tormenting him for the last ten years.

Even though Ryan hates Shane, his wolf won’t be denied. Against all sanity, he bites the blond and drags him home to mate.

Bound and trapped in Ryan’s basement, Shane plots his escape. He has no interest in being anyone’s mate, especially to his long time rival. If only his body would stop betraying him, seeking out first touch and then pain, things Ryan knows how to gift just right.

Ryan discovers that underneath his lust and resentment, he might just love his angry mate. But after what he’s done, can Shane ever forgive him enough to see him as worthy?

This short story of over 23,000 words contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Although featuring mating/breeding with werewolf anatomy that knots and ties, there is no mpreg.

Shifter Safe Haven S4


Seven stood in the doorway of the study, envelope in hand as he hesitated at the threshold. He just got there, but what it took to move now he was in sight of Blackwell felt too much. Mail was to be brought at 4 pm sharp. It was 4:23. It would not be unnoticed. It would not be unpunished.

The study was dimly lit and full of books and occult instruments. A stunning rug of indigo with intricate patterns stretched beneath Blackwell’s feet, and far from the fireplace a beautiful, solid wood desk sat. Seven barely saw the room. He was going to be punished. He knew it as assuredly as he felt the displeasure rolling off of his master through their bond. Rarely did Seven see Blackwell and not be punished. If not with pain or degrading acts, then the far more heart twisting reminder he could never leave. Seven would always return to this room and to this horrible man.

“You’re late. I called for you over fifteen minutes ago.” Blackwell didn’t turn, content to stare at the flames of the fireplace from his seat.

Seven took a deep breath and forced his legs to move. He didn’t tremble anymore. He had no anger left to shield and ultimately tear him in every struggle for freedom. He learned to erase all feeling from his very being along with the memories of who he once was. It was easier. It was easier to be nothing, than to be someone while a slave to a sorcerer.

Randal Blackwell was not a man accustomed to waiting. Patience didn’t grow with long age, not after the hundred and twenty-seven years he lived. If anything, he found his expectations and need for structure to be more rigid as each year passed. Blackwell’s magic was strong. He was powerful enough to preserve his appearance and health while weaker sorcerers aged, decayed and died. He was considered to be the top sorcerer in all of North America. Sure, there were a few rogues steeped in the dark arts who might possess superior abilities, but they weren’t practicing commercially. If they weren’t direct competition, they weren’t worth considering.

Blackwell amassed a fortune by casting for men with political sway as powerful as he was magical. It gave him an edge. He was protected from laws, protected from prosecution. He never slipped, but if the impossible did occur and he was caught, Blackwell knew he would never see the inside of a jail cell. He was untouchable.

Still, his sweet-tempered demon disobeyed.

Seven glided cautiously into the study and stood to the side of his master’s chair. He didn’t dare block Blackwell’s view of the fire; he was clearly in a mood. “Forgive me, Master. I was watching…”

“The rats. Yes, I’m aware.” Blackwell’s fingers twitched on the armrest. “I keep toying with the idea of getting a cat, but I fear you’d keep the creature from hunting with all your fussing.” Not to mention, he’d probably never see the demon at all if Seven had a pet to chase around. He was far too distractible as it was. Blackwell waved his hand and beckoned him closer. “Have you succeeded in your mission?”

Seven crossed the small space and knelt nude at Blackwell’s feet. His long red hair cascaded like silk on the floor as he pressed lips to the toe of his master’s shoe. Unlike the more brutish, leather-winged demons, Seven was an elegance of black, feathery wings, dark curl of horns, and long serpentine tail. His lithe body flexed gracefully and submitted when Blackwell pushed his head down roughly with the flat of his shoe. Seven kept his bright blue gaze fixed on the floor patiently as he was held down.

He was the prize piece of Blackwell’s demon collection. Seven’s beauty was unmatched but it wasn’t his true value to Blackwell. Seven was able to become intangible at will. It allowed him to slip unseen and untouched where no one else could travel. He was his thief, and when information was needed, his eyes and ears. Possibly more unique was Seven’s sweet, affectionate personality. Blackwell admitted to the poor habit of spoiling the gentle pet when he would harshly discipline his other slaves for the same lax behavior.

When the shoe was removed from his head, Seven held the envelope up to Blackwell. He kept his eyes averted from his master’s roaming gaze. Blackwell broke the wax seal on the back of the envelope with a manicured fingernail. He skimmed the missive quickly, then tucked it into his pocket. “Another taken.”

“Master?” Seven queried, unsure if he was speaking to him or to himself. It was a mistake; Blackwell grabbed him painfully by the chin and pulled him up.

“Do you know how difficult it is to find these useless little cats, my pet?” The question was rhetorical, no answer actually wanted. Blackwell teased fingers through Seven’s blood-red hair, then tightened his hold on his chin. He smirked at the demon’s noise of pain. “Yes, I am well compensated for my efforts but for how long when these imbecilic socialites can’t hold onto the dreadful, flea infested creatures? Their failures always lead to complaints. I do hate complaints, Seven.”

“Yes, Master,” Seven whispered, his words muffled when his head was forced down and face pressed against expensive slacks.

Blackwell continued to stroke his head as he muttered bitterly aloud. “It’s more than that; this is a challenge. Some meddlesome leech is out there feeding off my hard labor. What is he, keeping the cats for himself? Stealing them once they’re sold and then selling them again? Whatever he makes is owed me. I do not allow resale of my labor; I would rather kill the troublesome creatures.”

His fingers tightened in Seven’s hair and Blackwell pulled him up roughly to stare into the demon’s troubled, bright blue eyes. His dark gaze lingered on Seven’s flawless face and paused on the furrow of pain to his brow and the way his flushed lips were parted. “Are you in need, pet? I think a distraction is in order after such foul news. I cannot recall the last time you fed.”

Seven swallowed hard and tried to keep his expression impassive as he dared to meet the cruel eyes of his master. Randal Blackwell’s long, silver hair was kept in a neat ponytail at his nape, his facial hair groomed to perfection, and his eyes so black they rivaled the demons Seven grew up among. Blackwell never gave without pain; he never took without it either. Seven still hurt from his last feeding and wasn’t in a hurry to repeat it.

“It was only yesterday, Master. I do not hunger,” Seven said as emotionlessly as possible.

“That you are fed at all is only due to my generosity.” Blackwell’s reminder was a dangerous purr, and his hand tightened painfully in his hair.

Seven blanched as he realized his mistake. “Of course, Master. I’m grateful not to starve. No master is as generous as you. I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise.”

“No?” Blackwell’s grip loosened and his fingers slid down. He pressed his thumb to Seven’s lips until the lush flesh yielded. “Then feed, my pet. In my entire collection, I personally feed you. Show me how grateful you are to have been gifted such a generous master.”

Seven whimpered as his face was roughly pressed down the front of Blackwell’s pants. He knew his master only fed him because he sustained off of sex while other demons needed blood. Blackwell would never be so generous to open a vein for his slaves. Seven nuzzled into the bulge growing on the other side of the fabric, his eyes closed tight to hide his relief. Rarely did a blowjob lead to pain, unlike the other ways Blackwell took him. As long as he played his part, it would be over in minutes and he wouldn’t have to return to this room for another twenty-four hours.

“Hands,” Blackwell ordered. Seven obediently slipped them behind his back and wrapped his tail around his arms to keep them in place. One of his horns was held tight while Blackwell unzipped. There was a rustle of fabric and his dusky tipped dick sprang free and jolted Seven on his cheek. Seven quickly took a breath, knowing he would be unlikely to get another as his both his horns were locked in Blackwell’s grip. He was pulled down, his lips stretching to take the cock pushed abruptly into his mouth.

Seven kept as pliant as possible. He knew what Blackwell preferred after all these years. His participation in the act wasn’t required, just his gasps for air and hot tears when he choked. Blackwell liked to know he suffered, his throat raw with each brutal thrust of his dick. Seven released a pained cry when his hair was twisted hard. He hoped it would be enough, but wasn’t surprised when Blackwell’s hand reached for his neck. Long, cruel fingers wrapped tight around his throat and bruised his porcelain flesh.

Seven could feel the anger in the grip. He whimpered and struggled not to fight back or pull away when his air was cut off completely from the painful hold and the thick cock dripping wet in his mouth. Blackwell would make it worse if he fought. Seven might fear him, but over the last ten years enslaved to the sorcerer, he had yet to be killed. Seven opened wider and stayed as still as possible as Blackwell thrust deep, careless pumps against his tonsils, his cock head jarring against the back of his throat erratically. With a groan, Blackwell pulled him tight while surging forward. He sank his cock deep into Seven’s throat and held there while the demon dripped tears and saliva.

“Yes. Don’t fucking move.” Blackwell stared down into his eyes, watching Seven’s face flush with his need for oxygen. “Grip it. Deeper. Tighter.”

There was no way to do both with his mouth open so wide to take him in deep. Seven ran his tongue sloppily over the underside of Blackwell’s shaft, relieved to feel his heavy length thrum as he got closer. Maybe it was the pulse of his own heartbeat. Things were getting hazy and Seven could no longer feel the fingers biting into his neck or the saliva dripping crystal down his chin.

“Hold. Like that.”

Seven’s sway was stopped by the wrench to his hair. Blackwell’s cock swelled in deep his throat, and he grunted as he jerked streams of cum against the back of Seven’s throat. He held him there, Seven’s nose crushed to his navel as he ground hard like he was trying to ingrain the pattern of his cock into his flesh.

Seven rumbled deep in his chest as power zinged through him with every drop of seed. He didn’t need energy but his throat convulsed and he drank it down eagerly. He loved the taste, the texture, the buzz; he loved everything about the life giving nectar he fed from. Yes, blood could sustain him but it was nothing compared to the wild high he got from cum.

Seven gagged and tears streamed down his face as the fingers around his throat tightened. Heat rose through him and Seven’s vision dimmed. He struggled to stay conscious. He couldn’t pass out. If he spilled a drop of cum, Blackwell would rage about the waste and his immaculate clothes being ruined. It was just a wave of magic to clean any stains away, but his master enjoyed his games.

“Good, Seven. Very good.” Blackwell’s thumb stroked down the side of his throat. “Swallow your reward, my pet.” His fingers reluctantly released Seven’s neck and he smoothed over the pattern of bruises while Seven swallowed down what was left of Blackwell’s seed between gasps for air. There was no time to recover; three of Blackwell’s fingers shoved between Seven’s swollen lips and reached as deep as he could get.

Seven groaned at the new intrusion. He swayed dizzily and saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth as Blackwell continued to fuck his lips raw. It didn’t matter; it was nearly over. He just needed to wait it out and he’d be free for hours.

“You are beautiful, my pet. It must be why I put up with your constant disappointments,” Blackwell mused. He used his free hand to comb through Seven’s blood-red tangle of hair. “The others are jealous of the attention I give you. They don’t think you deserve it, pet, not when you don’t join them in their raids. Thirteen, in particular, seems very upset with you.”

Seven’s gaze focused blearily on Blackwell’s knee as thick fingers continued to thrust into his mouth. Dread tightened in the pit of his stomach and quickly churned to something unbearable. He heard the promise of punishment clear in his master’s voice. Not done. Not done yet.

Blackwell curled his wet fingers and scraped down Seven’s throat as he tried to make him gag. “I have a plan, my pet. I think I know how to get Thirteen to appreciate your gifts better.” Seven closed his eyes to block out his impassive stare. He didn’t have to turn when the quiet sound of padding bare feet reached his ears. He knew it was the powerful, gray skinned demon with burning red eyes and long, leathery wings.

Thirteen was the newest to the ranks and already caused quite a stir with Blackwell. He was powerful, brutal and so eager to kill; everything Seven wasn’t. Everything Seven despised. Blackwell knew. Seven hadn’t been blind to the dark, hungry look in his master’s eyes whenever he noticed Thirteen glaring at his sweet demon pet.

“Sorcerer slut.” Thirteen was careful to growl in their demonic language so Blackwell wouldn’t understand. His glare burned over Seven’s naked body where he knelt on the floor with mouth open wide as he choked on Blackwell’s fingers. “You let this human fuck you. It would be better to kill yourself, you pathetic waste. You are no demon.”

Seven did his best to focus on every small gasp of air he could drag in and not Thirteen’s words. Even if he could have spoken in that moment, Thirteen was too proud to listen. He was too new to understand what life on Earth was like. There had been no choice once Blackwell collared him. Death. Death was not a choice but an inevitability he would not rush toward. As long as he held life within him, Seven would seek the light he could of each moment. Life was precious, sacred, and fleeting for so many. Seven didn’t kill; surely the last scrap of his sanity was in his refusal to take another’s life for his master. Something Thirteen couldn’t say for even his short time there.

“Get up, my pet.” Blackwell removed his fingers from Seven’s mouth and wiped the wet digits on his throat to smear on his skin. His thumb came up again to run over Seven’s bruised bottom lip before he let him stand. “Kneel on the carpet with your face to me so I can see your expression. Spread your knees wide and get down on your hands.” Blackwell’s eyes didn’t move from Seven as he watched him sink to the floor with his ass up in the air. “Good. Is it too hard for your skin, pretty pet?”

Seven panted softly, his unfocused eyes turned in the direction of the elaborately woven carpet. “It’s fine,” he answered as blandly as possible. He knew Blackwell was only trying to incite Thirteen. He was pretending to pamper, pretending to give a fuck like he was the sorcerer’s treasured pet and not his favorite hole. By the sound of Thirteen’s snarl, it was working. Seven didn’t have to look at Blackwell to know it would please him; there was something fucked up in the man. He was cruel and twisted and took pleasure in seeing Seven injured and humiliated whenever he could.

“Thirteen, to me.”

The muscular demon took sure, silent steps and stopped in front of where Blackwell was seated. Although his head was held high, his eyes were fixed on where Seven was spread out on the rug.

Blackwell’s gaze ran down Thirteen’s nude, powerful form as he took in his hard muscle and blue-gray skin color. His eyes lingered and fixed on the demon’s half-erect arousal. “Your anatomy is always so fascinating. It doesn’t matter how much you demons vary in shape and abilities, you’re all designed to ensure your mating is successful.” His palm came up to caress Thirteen’s dick. Blackwell squeezed and stroked the flesh to full hardness. A smile quirked his lips when he saw the full impressive size.

Thirteen’s glare grew the longer he was fondled. His expression was stone-faced when the raised ridges that wrapped his shaft every inch were traced by Blackwell’s fingers with interest.

“You grow even larger when you cum and lock inside your mate. It must be painful for a tight hole like Seven.” Blackwell’s gaze slid down again to where Seven was bent forward, his curtain of red hair draped around his shoulders. “My pet knows enough not to complain about such things, even if he still cannot figure out how to answer my summons in a timely manner.”

Seven swallowed thickly and didn’t dare look up. The last thing he wanted Blackwell to see was his fear. “Forgive me, Master.”

“I do not forgive, Seven. I punish and expect obedience to follow.” Blackwell gave a final squeeze to Thirteen’s pulsing, ridged cock, his gaze full of barely contained anger. “Thirteen, you may mate him but there must be no blood. Bruises are fine. Expected with one as strong as you. Do not stain my carpet; it was a gift.”

January 21, 2017: What an extraordinary day in history…

January 21, 2017. What an extraordinary day in history…

I’m currently compiling and lightly editing the two Demon Bonded Sagas I’ve written so far: Demencious Saga and Apprentice Saga. They will be available through the KU program for the first time and purchasable in two ebooks instead of the nine individual books. The saga price will be $4.99 each, except when I first release them; they’ll be $0.99 then so my current readers can acquire them inexpensively.

I thought about this a lot, to be honest. The thing is, I don’t write to make money. I make money writing so that I can continue writing. This is probably not the soundest business decision, but I’m addicted; I love it, and this is the life that I am blessed to have. I understand for some who have purchased all nine individual Demon Bonded books, that offering the books like this now might feel unfair. That is not my intention. Yes, you paid more than others will end up paying for the series so far, but you also contributed to my ability to write the next books in the series, something I am eternally grateful for. Because of your generosity, you have also made it possible for newer readers that don’t have as much money to be able to purchase a story that I think we all love—Even more amazing, in my opinion.

You’re never going to find one of my ebooks out there for $10 (not that I’m disparaging authors that charge that amount.) I was born into poverty, adopted into middle class, and I’ve been homeless and disabled—my value of money is far lower than my value of being able to share the really cool stories that float around in my head with as many people as possible. Reading was an escape for me in many a difficult life struggle, and I want to be able to offer that for others no matter their financial circumstance.

Okay, next. Part of meeting so many new authors has been learning they blog about stuff far more interesting than I do. Eric, who not only writes a plethora of amazing gay stories, also has time to blog his ass off and host Facebook groups where others can find and talk about the books they love. Please, check him out when you have a chance.

Gay Fiction Addiction and Fiction Addiction

Blood In The Water by Tami Veldura

Kyros Vindex, treasure-hunter, has a problem. He’s carrying a torch for a fellow pirate with the sexual awareness of a teaspoon. Rumors say the man has killed hundreds. He’s determined to knock some sense into the work-a-holic that captains the Midnight Sun, but damned if he knows how.

Eric Deumont has more pressing concerns than the treasure-obsessed Kyros. There’s a creature inked into his chest that no witch in the seas will lay hands on for all the gold in the world. He knows it gives the Midnight Sun a cursed reputation and that doesn’t make living any easier. He has heard stories of spirits trapped for lifetimes inside spelled puzzle jars. Eric tracked down three of the pieces for such a jar with a lead number four. The fifth is still out there.

Even then, the spirit of vengeance that lives in Eric’s skin has no intention of giving up such easy access to the mortal realm. It craves blood and the light of the moon allows it to wreak unchecked havoc. Cursed is an insult. This is madness.

StepDaddy by Sadie Sins

Hey, don’t miss out on StepDaddy. It’s free for the month!

Ethan never expected to fall for his mother’s new love interest. He had never thought he’d ever look at a man that way at all. There’s just something about his caring but controlling stepfather that has everything upside down for the eighteen year old, his crush only getting worse the longer they share space.

Jeff has been doing everything he can to avoid his new stepson. Ethan is sweet, lonely, and absolutely beautiful. And worse, Jeff can’t help but want to protect the boy, especially when Ethan insists on dressing in provocative, hot ways. His stepson might just be trying to bait him, but for what he’s not sure.

When the two finally realize their attraction is mutual, Jeff knows he must leave to keep from crossing the line. Heartbroken, Ethan comes up with a plan. He’s just not sure it will be enough to convince his stepdaddy to stay.

18+ This novella contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, and themes of bondage and discipline between adult men. Over 35,000 words long.

Soapbox time, my dears.

Look away if reality frightens you; I can’t protect you or soothe your fears. Mine are just as large.

The darkness is sweeping in, and LGBT* was wiped from the face of the White House with the ascension of America’s new president. In one stroke, the very existence of lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transgenders, queers, asexuals, and all the many variations we humans use to help identify our core self when it comes to sexuality has been blacked out from the government that is supposed to represent all of its citizens. At the same time as I write this, there are women, men, Americans, and people all over the globe of all creed, all color, all orientation, protesting the future that is to befall my country.

Humanity is crying out, and I hear it. I hope you hear it too and understand.

The rights that I grew up with—that I know true in my heart—I learned as an adult had to be written through my government to be protected. And when the governing power decides that those rights have no value, we are not protected. When a man that can rape and assault a woman—many women**—rises to the seat of president when his entire country knows and dismisses his crimes, women are no longer protected. Voices in America said that one man was more powerful, more ‘right’ than the women he assaulted and their rights to their bodies. Believe me, no politics in this election will ever compare to the absolute devastation that one message speaks when it comes to our fundamental human rights: One man has more power over my female body than I do.

This message is not limited to women. This is a message that one man can refuse to pay his employees and not be punished. That one man can exploit citizen status, the color of skin, religion, gender, youth, sexual orientation, years of institutional racism and sexism to ensure that his victims fear too much to fight back. That one man can defraud students in a fake school of his creation and not face the consequences beyond throwing an endless stream of money. That one man can exploit the sheer lack of wealth all his victims have as he takes whatever he pleases. That one man can lie, every moment, every time and not be held accountable for his words and actions. Voices in my country said that this behavior was acceptable. Their votes said it when their silence reigned. They said money was greater than human rights. They said money was greater than my human rights, greater than my family, my friends, my neighbors, and the strangers I have yet to meet but share so much.

Those cold, apathetic voices are willing to give my rights away, but my rights don’t belong to them. They are mine. Our rights are innate, born to us, live within every child born until the day we die. We are equal, and we are free, and that is how we are meant to exist. And yes, these rights are only protected because of the documents of my government that ensure that it is so, but that doesn’t mean that they will ever be gone if those documents change. It doesn’t mean our rights will ever not be ours even when an administration that lords over us with subversive religious mandates says otherwise.

Our rights cannot be taken from us, but they can be given. In the silence, in the bargaining for power and safety, in the fear, people give their rights away.

As this darkness sweeps in, crashing in a frozen wave to submerge my country, I will not be silent. I will not give my rights away. I will support every voice that speaks up against inequality and tyranny. As much as this new president will try to separate America from the globe we live in, I will do everything to reach out. Our neighbors are our help, not our enemy. They are our guide when we are lost in the darkness. My voice might not be the most educated or the loudest or compelling, but it is all I have, and I will use it.

Now is the time to be loud. This is the first day of the first battle that will continue for the next four years. It will become as innate as my breathing—as innate as those rights that each and every one of us holds within. I will be loud. I will not be silent and complacent in the stripping of our freedom. If we are all loud, our roar can shake apart this darkness.

Goodies This Week

Hey, some sweet stuff this week

Hot damn, Sorcerer Slayer is happening. I just got through this really fun scene… Fine, I wrote it like a month ago but the new scenes are too rough at the moment so you get this… Unedited. ^^; Lol. It’s below the awesomeness. Speaking of which…

We’ve got $0.99 goodies and StepDaddy is free for the month of January. Also, expect a new book from me sometime next week. It will not be hitting Amazon as it is one of my pervy, kinky–In this particular case, forced to fuck incest theme. Yup, I’m back in the spirit of writing. XD

Also, I started using this service called Payhip where I can sell directly from my website safely, securely and with paypal and credit cards. Instead of waiting 3-4 months to get paid (I know, try paying rent like that @[email protected]) I only have to wait 2 days. It’s been pretty cool so far, so any book not in Amazon KU will be available on the website through Payhip with links to the smashwords version too.


Becoming Omega Series Books 1-3 by Stephan Hoppa $0.99

This three book box set contains all the novels from the Becoming Omega series by Stephen Hoppa:

Omega to the Ranchers After being beaten and left in the woods, Ryan wakes up in the bed of two powerful ranchers who are much more than they appear to be…

Omega to the Exile Bo is destroying himself to escape his past mistakes. He can’t outrun his debts and soon one of the most powerful gangs is going to make him pay. His problems only complicate when lone werewolf, Brayden, turns him into his omega, something Bo understands nothing about, as he struggles to ignore the fated connection he shares with Brayden…

Omega to the Alpha Alpha werewolf Silas grew up believing that when he found his fated mate, everything would fall together so easily; then he met Alex, harder than steel, more fragile than ice, member of the gang trying to kill off Silas’s pack…

*These stories all feature heart pounding action and steaming hot intimate scenes between men with HFN endings, no cheating, and no cliffhangers.*


Bound By Sacrifice by R. Phoenix $0.99

Now that supernatural beings have seized control of the world, life has become a struggle for the humans who once held power. Witches, vampires, and werewolves determine the fate of every single human, but their moral compasses have long since been shattered. Rebels, free humans, and slaves all share dreams of hope, mercy, love, and more. But with their fate so uncertain, survival isn’t enough… and they may have to sacrifice what is nearest and dearest to them if they want to change their lives.

*Please note that this world has little place for humanity. As a result, content in these works may contain scenes of depravity, cruelty, and violence — sexual or otherwise — that could be offensive and potentially triggering to some readers.*


Securing Him by Jace Presley $0.99

When an explosion rocked a military camp in the middle of the desert, Khian didn’t expect to find anyone alive. However, in the middle of the rubble, was Dr. Stephen Colt; injured, but alive. Once he came to, the fitness obsessed and recently divorced doctor is surprised by his body’s reaction to this tall, dark and mysterious savior, Khian.

As the two men search for who was behind the attack, they grow closer together and form a bond that soon turns to love. But a loved one is a liability a man like Khian cannot afford. To keep him out of danger, Khian sends Stephen away. Little does he know that the Doctor isn’t easily pushed aside and will cross the world to secure his new love.


StepDaddy by Sadie Sins (free)

Ethan never expected to fall for his mother’s new love interest. He had never thought he’d ever look at a man that way at all. There’s just something about his caring but controlling stepfather that has everything upside down for the eighteen year old, his crush only getting worse the longer they share space.

Jeff has been doing everything he can to avoid his new stepson. Ethan is sweet, lonely, and absolutely beautiful. And worse, Jeff can’t help but want to protect the boy, especially when Ethan insists on dressing in provocative, hot ways. His stepson might just be trying to bait him, but for what he’s not sure.

When the two finally realize their attraction is mutual, Jeff knows he must leave to keep from crossing the line. Heartbroken, Ethan comes up with a plan. He’s just not sure it will be enough to convince his stepdaddy to stay.

18+ This novella contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, and themes of bondage and discipline between adult men. Over 35,000 words long.

Sorcerer Slayer Sneak Peek

“What are you getting at?” Vincent finally spoke, as cutting as always.


“Is this some kind of joke?” He tried to pull his hand free, but Fox wouldn’t budge.

“Fuck—No, you idiot. Why the hell would I joke about something like this?” Fox shook his head briskly, annoyed he had let himself get upset. He pulled Vincent’s hand against his chest, holding the sorcerer tighter. “I want to go out with you.”

Vincent stared at his hand again. “Go out?”

“Date. Be your boyfriend,” Fox added gruffly, his cheeks growing hot. He didn’t care how much he blushed; he wasn’t going to let Vincent play dumb on him. “I want to date you.”

Understanding slowly dawning in his eyes, Vincent carefully pulled his hand free. “You want a relationship with me. Like Black and Doe.”

“Eh…” Fox couldn’t dream to be so ambitious as that. He had a feeling whatever he could hope to have with Vincent wouldn’t be anything comparable to the wild passion his dragon roommate had for Dorian Black. “I want a relationship of the two of us. I don’t know what that might look like, but that’s—”

“I can’t,” Vincent said abruptly.

Falling silent, Fox tried to ignore the way his heart felt like it was shredding. Dumb—Really fucking dumb. He knew it was a long shot at best. Still…

“Why?” He found himself asking, trying to read Vincent’s too subtle expressions. “Because you hate me?”

“I just can’t. Not ever.” Vincent looked away, avoiding Fox’s gaze. “I can’t explain it. It’s just something I’m not going to be able to get around.”

Fox growled in annoyance. “Vince, just fucking tell me. It took a lot for me to ask you out and I just want to know why.”

Frowning, Vincent glanced sideways at him before offering flatly, “It’s too dangerous.”

“What, you think I’m going to hurt you?” Fox asked, his annoyance slipping away to be replaced with concern. Had someone hurt Vince?

“No, stupid,” Vincent replied sharply. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

Fox was only growing more confused. Whenever he could get Vincent to talk, the sorcerer had always been more than direct. That he refused to be now was aggravating on top of confusing. He doubted Vincent was holding back to spare his feelings—It was Vince, after all.

“Please, just explain it to me,” he tried again, fighting to keep his tone even. The last thing he wanted to do was whine about something like this. “I… I just want to understand.”

Vincent sighed heavily, frustration clear in the sound. “I can’t, zorro. The person I am when it comes to shifters… I came here to not be that person. That’s all I can tell you.”

Fox’s heart sank. Right. Of course. It was because he was a shifter. Of course, Vincent would never date a shifter.

He wanted to be angry, but glaring at Vincent only brought to mind all the things he liked about the boy. Beneath his beautiful, damn near perfect exterior seemed to be a heart so fragile, he was half afraid his blundering would destroy it most days. Even then, when Vince was tearing him apart, the sorcerer just seemed so lost and confused at every moment.

Fox wasn’t aware he had moved, not until he heard Vincent’s breath hitch. Even then, he couldn’t stop himself, his eyes caught in the deep, lonely expanse of the sorcerer’s silver eyes. He cupped Vincent’s face, creating the lightest of pressure as he leaned forward.


And that’s all you get! *runs away*

Oh, and all those awesome deals above (hey, two of those models look totally the same. <3) Fox is not one to give up. Like, you could beat him over the head and that boy just keeps on trying. XD Hope you’re all having a fine weekend. <3

Taken By Beasts

Taken By Beasts

This collection contains five never before released, steamy paranormal stories of monsters and the innocent, handsome young men they call prey *cough* boyfriend, written by the mistress of dubcon, Sadie Sins. Inside you’ll find five unique storylines containing friends to lovers, straight to gay, mild BDSM, and even a few group, taboo moments. It has furry full moon transformations, haunted houses, Halloween parties, evil witches, horny sorcerers, sexy demons, a cat shifter in distress, the rare minotaur, a stalking vampire, and a pack of rude, trash talking werewolves that don’t take no for an answer. Not to mention, the promise of a happy, claw biting ending. This book will make you downright beg to be a victim.

Halloween has never been quite so naughty as when you’re Taken by Beasts.

18+ For explicit man on monster action, graphic language, breeding, growls, tears, and over 66,000 words of hot, sexy fun.
66,000+ wrds, Published October 28, 2016.
Heat level: XXX


on October 30, 2016
Incredibly awesome, hot and steamy. Multiple books but all were well written erotic shorts, guaranteed to get you a little wet in the pants
on June 17, 2017
This was a really sexually erotic series of stories that was full of the paranormal and very entertaining. Vampires, thralls, werewolves, magicians, shifters and mythical creatures..Menage’ is part of some of the stories and the sexual encounters are really hot. An excellent book. Would recommend it for anyone to read.
on June 1, 2017

I love this story collection. It has five wonderful stories, each one taking place on Halloween night. If I have to pick a favorite, it is the final story in the collection, a werewolf story that intrigued me and pulled me in from word one. I just loved the way the story unfolded, so perfectly through dark and shadow, the main character so haunted by howls and laughter in the woods. The writing in this one was some of the best I’ve seen by this author. (cont…)


Sebastian stepped reluctantly down the dark street, hearing the sounds of happy children shrieking yards away as they rang doorbells and demanded candy. He would have driven to the store, but the roads were black and reflective from the cold rain that had been misting that evening and with all the kids milling around for Halloween, he was certain he’d end up running one of the idiots over. Totally by accident, no matter how annoying they were with their costumes and laughing and damn near happy ass lives.

He might be depressed. Not that he didn’t have good reason—He wasn’t one of those emo types that just hated life. Much.

Scowling, Sebastian kicked a wet maple leaf off of his sneaker, feeling the trickle of water get in through the hole in the sole. Perfect. Really perfect. His parents had sent him out to get more candy for the trick-or-treaters, but at this point, he was pretty sure they just wanted to get him out of the house so they wouldn’t have to watch him mope.

Gay. Claire Stevenson thought he was gay.

She hadn’t even been mean about it. She wasn’t the first person to call him gay but most people had done it while making fun of his sappy heart when it came to animals or the fact that he was short and thin and apparently that automatically made him girly. Whatever. He probably could have dismissed it if she had been bitchy and trying to make him feel like shit about himself. Not that the end result was much different. Because the girl he’d been dating for the last three months had just dumped him because she thought he was gay.

God, he hated his life.

You’re just, well, not that into me, Sebastian. It’s like you’re a best friend, not a boyfriend. I can’t make you want me the way I want you, and that’s really, well, terrible feeling to be with someone that doesn’t want me back.

No, she hadn’t been mean at all, but Claire had still managed to destroy him with one damn conversation. He had liked Claire forever. Sebastian couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t had a crush on her. Sure, he wasn’t the most romantic of guys—He’d never say he got butterflies or anything, but that didn’t mean he was gay. Sebastian was just really low key. Boring, if he was feeling down about it. Yeah, he was kind of boring—But not gay. He just didn’t get overly excited about stuff even if he had been crushing on Claire for ages now.

When I kiss you, it’s like, I dunno, wow for me. Really crazy and intense feeling. But you… I don’t think you feel much of anything at all.

God damn it, how could you even measure something like that? How could she just know she felt more than he did? It wasn’t like he was trying to compare or reach some goal of epic makeout sessions. He’d been dreaming about Claire forever, and the moment he finally had a shot at her, he had wanted to take things slow. You know, build a foundation between them. Prove that they could be a long term thing. All of his previous girlfriends had been more like a week to week trial with a whole lot of empty space in between, but with Claire, Sebastian had wanted things to be different.

Well, in a way, they had been, hadn’t they? Instead of being dumped for being too weird or distant, Claire had decided he really just wanted dick. Right after they had been kissing, at that.

He didn’t think he was a bad kisser. He got self-conscious a lot, especially if anyone could be around and see him, but when he did kiss, he thought he was kissing with all his heart. How could she think he didn’t feel just as much for her as she did him? Who even got to say how much you were supposed to feel for someone for it to be officially enough? Hadn’t he like, talked to her every day on the phone and tried to see her every moment he could? Hadn’t he gone out of his way to keep his schedule open around his job and college and her classes to take her out whenever she wanted? How could he do so much and have her think he didn’t feel anything for her? What the fuck else was he supposed to feel?

Fuck, was he supposed to feel something else?

Sebastian growled, his left foot landing hard in an unseen puddle and sloshing up his jean leg, the material immediately soaked. “Fucker.” He hopped, but the damage had been done, his sneaker now squishing with every new step he took, the wet shoe slipping on soggy leaves and concrete alike.

It was an extremely irritating internal monolog, one that didn’t seem to have any answers forthcoming. Sebastian didn’t know if he was feeling enough—He didn’t even know what the fuck he was supposed to feel. He had trusted his feelings this far. Finally, with a girl Sebastian had thought to one day want to marry, she had told him he wasn’t feeling anything at all. And the truth of it was, Sebastian wasn’t fully confident he was feeling everything he was supposed to.

Movies would have him believe he needed to make grand romantic gestures and last-second dashes to airports to show how much he cared. Real life wasn’t like that. At least, his real life wasn’t like that. He wasn’t the type to go rent out an ice skating rink for a romantic date or send twelve dozen roses for the week of Valentine’s Day. He didn’t feel the need to write a book of poetry for how Claire looked in the morning light. He wasn’t the type to want to slice his wrists just because the girl he’d been crushing on had dumped him. For real, who the fuck did that? That wasn’t love; that was just a total chemical imbalance of insanity…


Running a hand through his damp, black bangs, Sebastian sighed weakly as the line of convenience stores came into view. The small strip mall was lit up in neon oranges, purples, and reds for the holiday, calling customers in from the clammy, wet night with the promise of shelter and heat. He quickened his pace, ignoring the slosh of his sneaker with each frozen step.

God, was he like an unfeeling, dead-hearted idiot and just didn’t know it? Should he be, like, thinking about jumping off a bridge or something because Claire was never going to be with him? Hadn’t he been planning a life with this girl? She was funny, smart, cute, and just all around perfect. Sebastian had friends that acted like if they were dumped, their life was ending. Was he seriously wondering if he was supposed to feel love an entirely different way?

And just who the fuck decided what you were supposed to feel anyways!

He really didn’t know, and the lack of answers was beyond frustrating. Because if he didn’t know, how the hell could he change it? Did he want to change it? Did he need to conform to some level of ‘feeling’ or be forced to accept that he was doomed to be alone for the rest of his life?

Would being alone be better when he wouldn’t be judging himself on how much he was failing to feel for someone he supposedly loved or damn near loved?

Being dumped by Claire didn’t have Sebastian wanting to kill himself, but trying to figure this particular problem out was definitely getting him thinking about a sturdy plastic bag with no air holes.

Jesus, fucking girls. Dictating how he was supposed to feel while in the same breath telling him he wasn’t doing it right. He had felt just as much for Claire as he was meant to feel, or was at least capable of feeling. It might not have been enough for her, but it had been to the best of his damn ability at the time. He sure as fuck hadn’t felt that much for a guy before. Just because he hadn’t lost it over Claire didn’t mean he was gay.


He left the warm lights of the convenience store behind him with two bags of candy and an impulsive—but decidedly needed—six-pack in hand. Sebastian’s mood only grew worse when he found the mist that had surrounded him on the walk to the store had turned into a light drizzle that was quickly threatening to grow into a miserable downpour. He hunched forward in his hoodie, the sweatshirt material doing little to protect him from the freezing water and chill wind of approaching winter.

He was full of dread at the idea of going home and having to face his parents’ well-meaning yet completely unhelpful comments as to why things hadn’t worked out with Claire. They kept pushing for him—none too subtly, at that—to move into a dorm or apartment with a group of students his own age. So he could be more sociable. As loathe as he was to have to surround himself with a bunch of loud peers while at the same time losing any ability to fill his savings account, he was starting to consider it if only to avoid the ever increasingly awkward conversations of why he was still single and just couldn’t find the right girl.

As he slipped on slick leaves in the dark, leaning sideways against the wind while standing on the sidewalk, Sebastion began to contemplate his parents’ parting words before he had left the house half an hour ago. Maybe they had been suggesting something else when saying he hadn’t met the ‘right girl’ yet. Maybe they were saying he shouldn’t be expecting to fall for a girl at all…

Did everyone think he was gay just because he’d been unlucky in love?

The sound of crunching tires hitting leaves behind him caught his attention. Sebastian immediately stepped as far from the street as the sidewalk would allow, his expression growing stormy when he heard a puddle splash and felt a fresh spray of water as the vehicle roared past.

“Asshole!” He growled, raising his hand holding the bag full of candy while ineffectively wiping the side of his face that had gotten caught in the deluge of dirty water. He glared after the fading red taillights, glad that the rain had at least driven most of the trick-or-treaters inside so they wouldn’t have to deal with the same fate. Shaking himself off, he forced his frozen feet forward, quietly contemplating just who had insisted on Halloween being so late in the season when the weather was always so cold.

He was going to go home, lock himself in his bedroom, and drink himself to sleep. Not because he was depressed over Claire—no, apparently he still couldn’t work up enough emotion for that—but because he was so fucking annoyed by being told he didn’t know how to feel. He knew how to feel. He did it every fucking day. And if that wasn’t good enough, well, too fucking bad for Claire.

Somehow feeling more empowered in his anger even though he was still absolutely lost on what the fuck Claire had been trying to tell him, Sebastian splashed through puddles and piles of colorful, rain-drenched leaves until he reached the familiar streets of his neighborhood. The rain had only increased and his steps sped up in response, his sweatshirt soaked through and bangs now dripping into his green eyes, obscuring his vision. Which was why, when headlights suddenly flashed and Sebastian caught sight of a small, hunched body in the middle of the road, without thinking he immediately dashed forward.

A horn blared startling loud, the tires to Mr. Walden’s sedan shrieking on the wet pavement when the man slammed on his brakes to avoid Sebastian’s poorly lit form. He barely noticed, his gaze fixed on the middle of the road where a child’s plastic pumpkin treat holder was tipped upside down, candy scattered on the ground all around it. But where he had thought he had seen the body of a person, a drenched, wide-eyed black cat looked up at him, it’s fur matted to its trembling body.

“Sebastian! Are you out of your damn mind, boy? You could have been killed!” Rolling his window down roughly, the older man squinted into the rain, trying to see past Sebastian’s knees illuminated by his headlights. “Oh, hell, don’t tell me that’s a…”

“It’s a cat,” Sebastian said, wonder and warmth filling his voice in equal proportions as he bent down and offered the back of his hand to the small creature’s delicate nose. “I think he was eating the candy.” He had never known a cat to eat candy, but with the torn wrappers under the cat’s paw, he was pretty sure that was what it was doing.

Scowling with a mix of annoyance and relief to find that there was no child crumpled under the wheels of his car, Mr. Walden revved his engine impatiently. “Come on, get out of the street. Whatever it’s doing, the road is no place for it or you. Especially in this rain.”

Eyes of impossible periwinkle depths stared up into his. Crouching down, Sebastian held his hands out, the frail looking cat following the movement with its head warily. “You cold, little guy?” Sebastian crooned, carefully scratching behind a bedraggled ear. When no bite or hiss came, he edged closer, cautiously wrapping his arms around the cat’s body but not lifting just yet. “I’m going to get you out of this rain, okay? My home is nice and warm and you won’t have to worry about being run over.”

Taking the silence and trembling of the small form as permission, Sebastian carefully tightened his arms until the black cat was in his embrace. He stood slowly, hooking the plastic handle of the pumpkin with him so no kid would wander into the road to try and rescue it as well. He ignored Mr. Walden’s eyeroll—the man was clearly not as impressed by a pathetic, shivering, soaking wet cat as he was—and slowly walked his new friend to the sidewalk where they could both be safe.

“Do you have a collar, pretty?” He asked softly, gently scratching beneath the cat’s chin until it tilted its face up to reveal that it was indeed collarless. But even though the cat was bedraggled and scavenging for food, Sebastian was certain it belonged to someone or had only just recently lost its owner. It was far from feral, curled up in his arms and purring as it tried to heat itself against the rain and cold. It hadn’t tried to claw him or anything even though the poor thing had nearly been run over and had to be terrified.

Water dripped down onto Sebastian’s nose from the brim of his sweatshirt hood, startling him momentarily and reminding him that even though his new friend was safe from cars, it was still out in the miserable weather that could be just as dangerous for a domestic animal. Decided, he turned towards his house, speaking soothingly as he held the cat close against his chest between the damp layers of his shirt, offering it as much protection as he could from the elements while he took him home.

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