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Hellcat Is Live! 🐯 Plus Fight To Keep The Internet Free!

Hellcat is published and live!

Okay, so this story was initially meant to be a quick Halloween erotic short. Grump nerd is grumpy. Witch moves in and her familiar molests grumpy nerd. Grumpy nerd overwhelmed and seeks to find witch to be free from horny Hellcat. Grumpy nerd realizes it’s love, the end. Hellcat became so much more—lol, but still has those roots. XD 101,000 words. It’s actually amazing when I think of the journey this book took. It transformed more than Sean and Soot did. There will be a sequel, one I plan on focusing on once Sorcerer Slayer is done. I’m already rereading what I’ve written so far with Sorcerer Slayer and getting ready to go forward! Whoot!

ARC reviewers, Hellcat is now in your section of the website if you’re interested in reading and reviewing. And for anyone who picks up Hellcat, please review. It doesn’t even have to be nice XD but I think people are really going to like the book, and I’d love to hear how you feel about it. I’m trying something totally new and daring for the sequel, which I mention in the parting at the end about TJ, and I’m a little worried that current readers might have a big ‘fuck no!’ reaction. @[email protected]


I finally started a Patreon! This is a ‘tip jar’ scenario. Basically you pledge as little as a $1 a month and you get access to whatever is written for Patreon. My main focus will be Demon Bonded. I’m going to put the Coven Saga episodes up there that are already written this weekend… maybe all the Demon Bonded, actually, to catch everyone up… and then go from there. Oh, and I have a Liem story brewing—his own book, pretty sure by the time it’s done. He’s going to fall for a total bitchy, wild demon once he starts training with other apprentices. A total hate to love thing. I’m so excited about it.

I really want to use Patreon as an excuse to update Demon Bonded monthly. These books might not be published or fully edited in that time, but they will be there to read and more Demon Bonded will be written faster because of it.

There is a lot of vagueness on what Patreon’s adult guidelines are. They say fiction is fine (they mention Game of Thrones) but at the same time say individuals talking about rape they experienced could get them banned (wtf?) I’m having a lot of trouble understanding what the fuck their ‘line’ is. So I have a feeling all the content I have for Patreon will end up on a new section of my website. No membership filter at all, not even the free one, just a simple wall of ‘I’m an adult and allowed to read this button.’ It will be completely funded because of donations through Patreon, but the content will not be on their site to ensure I stay within their guidelines. I will use Patreon to let patrons know that something new has been posted and the links to it.

I think this is the safest, smartest way to deal with this instead of relying on Patreon to know what the fuck their morality lines are. I’m so fucking sick of morality. Amazon has started a new algorithm, pretty sure, and they’re dumping gay romance into erotica in droves. The Demon Bonded books are one by one suddenly in erotica and no longer linking as a series, and I think this is just the beginning. If you’re wondering what having a book pushed into erotica does for authors, well, please feel free to read the ranting below.

Amazon Is Kinda Homophobic, Censorship, And FOSTA/SESTA

US citizens can fill out a very easy form and email your representative immediately to demand they stop FOSTA/SESTA Yes, this is after the fact, but it’s important to continue to have your voice heard.

There is also a petition going around but it has some weird email block, so I don’t know how effective it will be.

Okay, so what the fuck is going on? A quick catch up for those who had lives and didn’t know Congress was voting to steal free speech away in the name of stopping sex trafficking, here are a few links.

How Congress Censored the Internet

Congress Just Legalized Sex Censorship

Authors of LGBT romance have been noticing their books being dumped into erotica all of a sudden on Amazon. This isn’t a new problem, but it has suddenly amped up hardcore. Most annoying for me personally, I just spent 6 months writing Hellcat, just did the last jaunt of editing, formatting, requesting ARCs, and still need to do a shit ton of promoting (after a little break. @[email protected]) I thought part of that promoting would be with an Amazon ad. I’ve only used an Amazon ad once before. It was for the release of My Broken Angel all the way back when I had all my books in KU. I made good money that month—it was actually the month where I thought I would be able to make a living being an author. I finally ‘made it.’ Then KU broke, pages stopped being counted, and I threw the subscription site together to save my ass. I was hoping a break from Amazon would give me a clear head for business when it came to their platform. Unfortunately, they took one look at Hellcat and placed it in the erotica category when it’s romance.

Oh, Hellcat’s not hearts and kisses and tears instead of cum romance, but this is a love story. And love is obsessive and full of ownership, and in the beginning when hormones are strong, there’s a lot of sex. Sex is a part of being alive. It’s actually the only reason any of us are alive. Our parents all had sex. If people stopped having sex, humanity would die out in a generation. Sex = Life. Sex isn’t shameful; it’s actually pretty fucking important.

My plans to have an Amazon ad are ruined. I cannot advertise Hellcat on Amazon because they have classified it as erotica. Erotica is not allowed to have ads on their platform, or on Bookbub; pretty much anywhere that readers go to find books outside of Instafreebie—Instafreebie is damn cool on that front. When people browse the gay romance section, there will be no potential that Hellcat will pop up on the side under Hot New Releases to help promote the book. The last week, bestseller status and ranking were stripped from erotica books, and although it has returned, there is no way to know for how long.

I first discovered how erotica is treated differently (outside of having my books banned) when Demon Arms ended up in erotica for months. I tried everything to get the book moved back; keywords, categories, changing the blurb—was the word ‘screwed’ being considered sexual to Amazon? I had no idea. Nothing worked until I contacted Amazon directly and demanded they move it back. They gave me no explanation as to why it was moved in the first place. You guys know Demon Arms, where the main characters don’t even touch for 50,000 words into the book? What the fuck happens when I publish Sorcerer Slayer? Does it just end up in erotica because I’m on some list with Amazon for writing erotic books now? Everything I write must automatically be hidden away and prevented from being advertised? Or is it because it’s gay, and gay books focus on sexuality so they must be dirty in Amazon’s eyes?

I’m fed up, and I’m worried about my future as a writer. I put a lot of work into Hellcat, a lot of love—I love this book! It’s fun, it’s quirky, it’s sexy and just a wild ride. I have never pushed myself so creatively, and I feel like it’s a turning point for me as a writer. I grew in this book. My settings and world building were fleshed out and fun and I want to keep pushing myself. This book was a joy (even when it was frustrating as fuck! XD) I’m seriously hoping Amazon doesn’t go the next step and ban Hellcat completely, because Amazon does that too. They not only prevent authors a fair share in making money off their books they deem are ‘erotic,’ but they also remove books they don’t think are allowed to exist at all. Subjects that I find again and again in straight fiction are banned from LGBT. You can blame it on an algorithm, but a human being made that algorithm. Humans are in control of why Amazon chooses to discriminate against the books they do and chooses to ban the books they do.

This week kicked my ass as I pushed myself to get this book out, and this was the final blow in a lot of ways to have Hellcat publish straight into erotica next to books about fucking the neighbor’s wife and Daddy porn. I love erotica, don’t get me wrong, but this book doesn’t belong there and how the fuck are readers going to be able to find it? How is erotica—beautiful, sexy, fun erotica—going to be able to compete against novels crafted with complex storytelling in mind? Now they’re not just competing with other books made to titillate, they’re competing with full-blown romances that are seeking a completely different mood from a reader. There is a reason we have genres, and it’s not to discriminate against books no matter how Amazon treats erotica, but to help readers find what they’re looking for.

This is what happens when censorship of fiction occurs in a ‘free’ market. There will be no boycott that will fix this, there will be no petition or outraged cry. And I’m not saying that just because many people are still so full of shame when it comes to sex, so they dumbly nod their heads when they see free speech censored in the name of morality. No, I’m saying this because Amazon is a trillion dollar company and they don’t give a fuck. They don’t have to give a fuck. They are protected by the law while individuals are not protected from being discriminated against because of America’s ‘Obscenity Laws.’ Authors talk about getting together and making this giant see reason because ‘erotica makes Amazon money,’ and I just have to laugh to myself. It’s not going to change unless Amazon chooses to stop discriminating against sex in fiction, and whatever is driving it isn’t business oriented. They don’t care about the money. Amazon has been removing erotic fiction for nearly 10 years now; they don’t like sex, especially gay sex.

Amazon is literally defining the gay romance genre by what they allow to exist. What they don’t want suddenly disappears from the market and hey, apparently that’s business. They decide what people want and what they’re allowed to read. In a truly free market, customers decide what is written. If something is popular, more is made. That’s why erotica will never disappear, btw; people like stories about fucking. It’s very popular like sex in general (and I know sex is popular cuz hey, we got billions of people on this planet who got here through sex.) That’s why we’re seeing the shifter craze move away from the vampire craze. But hey, those who like vampires still have that option because no one came along and said ‘No, vampires aren’t allowed on Amazon.’ That would be insane, never mind dickish as fuck. But that’s what Amazon does. There are authors who try to trick the system and they’re made to feel ashamed because demanding free speech and equality is ‘breaking the rules.’

I fear it’s only going to get worse with SESTA/FOSTA. It’s waiting to be signed by Trump (pretty sure it hasn’t been signed yet @[email protected]) and I can’t imagine he won’t. He has so many morality groups screaming in his ear. Some were literally calling him the second coming of Christ. Religion has deep pockets and he’s a bought man. Certain groups who have pushed this bill claim it’s the first step in removing pornography from the Internet, and yes, erotica is considered pornography which is why it’s being segregated from the other books and/or banned entirely. The ‘I know it when I see it’ rule for obscenity applies in the US, and Amazon ‘sees’ it in this case and they don’t want others seeing it. As platforms make an effort to protect themselves from the liability this bill opens up, anything in regards to sex on the Internet will become harder to access or host. Why? Because there is no way to know when someone is talking about sex, be it simple conversation, or in fiction, or in jokes, if it is or isn’t connected to sex trafficking in the real world.

So, a quick reality check. Sex trafficking can’t happen on a computer. No one can reach through the screen and kidnap someone or save them, for that matter. You cannot be sexually assaulted by a computer; you cannot be coerced by a computer. But the Internet is being held responsible for sex crimes existing in the real world by saying the Internet ‘enables’ sex crimes. The same way ‘having a penis enables rape’ in the minds of some individuals, so men = rapist. This is not a logical jump, but people are illogical all the fucking time. It may sound ‘responsible’ until you look deeper and realize it’s just people on a morality kick looking to save the world from sex crimes by punishing the existence of depictions of sex on the Internet. Congress ignored the expert testimony that this bill would in fact harm those trapped in sex trafficking by forcing perpetrators away from the Internet where it’s harder to find and rescue victims. It makes platforms liable, meaning businesses will be less likely to contact authorities if they see a crime to protect their livelihoods. It also makes it extremely unsafe for consensual sex work by removing the Internet buffer when looking for new clients.

Sex crimes don’t need a computer to happen. Humanity has a long history of being terrible to each other, and the Internet is very young in comparison. This bill takes a safe place for free speech away, as well as correlates sex with crime in an attempt to erase sex from the Internet with the mentality of just in case someone bad is doing something bad, the Internet has to be stopped.

Will the Internet be changed over this?

It’s up to the Internet. Craigslist shut down their Personals Section already because of the liability that individuals might be being exploited and the perpetrators using the service. Reddit is erasing community after community. I have a bad feeling that this new surge in Amazon erotica hunts is just the beginning in their need to ‘protect’ people from fiction, and who the hell knows what will happen once the bill is actually signed. But I am not a fortune teller. It’s very easy to shine a light and squish a bunch of objects together and say the shadows mean something. It’s the same type of leap in logic that intelligent, well-intentioned human beings use to insist it’s the Internet’s fault for sex trafficking. Reality is reality, now is now, and there is no way to know how each platform will deal with this new bill. There’s no way to know if the bill will be signed—but again, it seems unlikely that it won’t be. Congress already voted away the rights of Americans, and they’re supposed to be paid to do the exact opposite.

I host with Dreamhost, btw. I selected them from the very beginning when I was looking for a web-hosting service because I knew some of the things I write would be considered controversial and I didn’t want to be arrested. There are states in the US where people are in jail for drawings. Not even photos—and no, I don’t think a photo is a person, or that a person can be exploited by someone looking at a piece of paper or screen, just so we’re clear. In this modern, supposedly forward, technology-rich society I am a part of, people are being jailed over ink on a piece of paper and pixels on a screen because morality is fucking-over reason. Dreamhost was not only accepting of adult content, but they actually spoke up against censorship, and that struck a strong cord with me. I don’t believe what I do is wrong on any level, and I wanted a hosting company who understands that. That still doesn’t mean if these laws pass that Dreamhost will be able to keep strong against them, but I have high hopes they’ll at least try.

When Trump took office there was a huge outcry for morality, and it has been repeated again and again. Many people think they’re calling for basic decency on how we treat each other while blindly trampling on the rights of others and self. I think many want decency, and I wholeheartedly agree we should all seek to treat each other how we would wish to be treated (unless you’re a masochist. XD) But when people are caught up looking for control, looking to make what seems like a monstrous situation be sane and reasonable, they make really shitty decisions. The Patriot act was a wonderful example, and I’m sad to say this country didn’t fucking learn. As much as I point out if you don’t want to be shot by a gun, don’t surround yourself with guns, I still support the 2nd amendment because I understand the right to be allowed to defend yourself. I don’t think that right needs to be at the expense of the lives of others, but it is still an innate right to live and survive. You will die—we all die—but what living organism wouldn’t fight to stay alive? It is a choice, like all choices, and who is anyone to take that choice away?

This bill will take away the ability to say whatever the fuck you want on the Internet. Posting nude images of yourself might be subject to so many questions that platforms may remove them completely just to make sure the subject of the image isn’t being exploited sexually. Writing fiction might be decided by platforms to encourage sex crimes and be removed with creators facing criminal liability. And if that seems insane, again, there are people in jail who have never committed a crime against another human being, they just viewed and downloaded something from the Internet. Each platform will decide their ‘line’ to protect them from prosecution over the actions of individuals on their site. There is no way to know how far they will go. There’s no way to know if we won’t all wake up tomorrow and have erotica erased completely from Amazon.

I’m not saying this will come to be. I just have a very active mind and too many things to squish together to read the shadows. It won’t stop me from writing—I’m really not interested in doing anything else. XD I have yet to give a fuck about the morality of a bunch of tight-asses who can’t distinguish reality from fiction. But this is also my job where I’m seeing this storm brewing over what I do, and yeah, I’m worried. :/ Blah.

It’s a choice how to react, how to feel, and ultimately, to decide if this is going to change the way I exist in the world. I’m choosing no. Platforms may cave, they may break, but any lawsuit taken into the courts—the courts who sent word to Congress to try to stop the passing of this bill because it infringed on the 1st amendment—will support free speech. Eventually. So if it all goes to shit, we gotta hang on and still live the way we want to live. Platforms are making a choice to react. It’s up to us to choose to follow their lead and be forced into the shadows, gutters, and closets, or stand the fuck up and live life to the fullest.

This might sound weird and random, but I actually went through Hellcat in the final edit and erased God from it. There are these phrases I use that I grew up with, and I realized here I was still unable to escape that brainwashing on this level. I don’t want God in my fiction. I don’t want God in my life. We do not need some concept of judgment of every action done defining if an individual is worthy of being alive or not. If you take away God, humanity still exists free to make choices and be empowered by their actions. If you take away sex, humanity is literally dead and extinct. I want to keep the one that brings life, and it’s all sexy fun. ^^

Mated To The Demon Prince: Hellcat #1

Sean knows what those wicked, hellfire eyes want. Him, on his knees, taking every finger, tongue, tail, and tentacle.

This is what being corrupted by a demon feels like. It’s the only explanation. Sean’s not supposed to have fangs or know magic, damn it. And this bs where he’s horny and begging all the time? No, not freaking happening. He’s just a nerd—a hot, gay, totally panicky IT specialist—who needs to find a solution to his destroyed business, asap. He doesn’t have time for whatever weird this shapeshifting demon is into. Soot can’t just claim him whenever he wants, over and over again. He’s about to be homeless!

If Sean doesn’t save a witch from a dragon, it’s game over. But he’s changing, turning into someone he doesn’t recognize. He’s not sure if he can play hero, not even when Soot abducts TJ, Sean’s painfully straight crush, to the top of a tower full of witches, gargoyles, and one very pissed off dragon. TJ doesn’t know who to fear more, the demon prince or whatever it is Sean is turning into.

There has to be a way out. Stealing a 3 million dollar hellcat isn’t a binding contract to be a sex thrall, no matter how much his demon master disagrees.

Wild Boys – $0.99

8 free gay romance shorts, PLUS a free short EXCLUSIVE to this collection!

This is one of the best books about gay love on Kindle. You get 9 cute gay romance books, with angst, steamy scenes, and more.

These gay guys are hot, and they’re all looking for love. Take a break from the dating sites and enjoy something simpler.

Books in this gay romance collection:
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Billionaire’s Obsession
Dirty Player
Lover In The Dark
Pinned Beneath You
Dirty Lover
Holiday Lover
Power Play
Devil’s Kiss

Rest Stop Rendezvous – $0.99

After one too many bad breaks, Jimmy Nelson decided to pack up and hit the road seeking a fresh start in California. However, he did not expect the offer of a lifetime that landed directly in his lap.

You see, Jimmy met a most intriguing man at a very random, deserted, and out of the way rest area. This handsome stranger was all too eager to take a willing student under his wing for one sensual encounter that would awaken buried desires.

Come along for the erotic journey when two paths collide for a rest stop rendezvous…



Monthly Freebie – Heat

I’m leaving Heat up over the weekend while I get the new Patreon aspect of the site sorted out. All the Demon Bonded books, past and present will end up on this part of the site and likely will replace the monthly freebie with updates to the Demon Bonded serial. We’ll see how it goes. <3

Hellcat Mated To The Demon Prince

Mated To The Demon Prince

Sean knows what those wicked, hellfire eyes want. Him, on his knees, taking every finger, tongue, tail, and tentacle.

This is what being corrupted by a demon feels like. It’s the only explanation. Sean’s not supposed to have fangs or know magic, damn it. And this bs where he’s horny and begging all the time? No, not freaking happening. He’s just a nerd—a hot, gay, totally panicky IT specialist—who needs to find a solution to his destroyed business, asap. He doesn’t have time for whatever weird this shapeshifting demon is into. Soot can’t just claim him whenever he wants, over and over again. He’s about to be homeless!

If Sean doesn’t save a witch from a dragon, it’s game over. But he’s changing, turning into someone he doesn’t recognize. He’s not sure if he can play hero, not even when Soot abducts TJ, Sean’s painfully straight crush, to the top of a tower full of witches, gargoyles, and one very pissed off dragon. TJ doesn’t know who to fear more, the demon prince or whatever it is Sean is turning into.

There has to be a way out. Stealing a 3 million dollar hellcat isn’t a binding contract to be a sex thrall, no matter how much his demon master disagrees.

101,000+ wrds, First Published March, 2018.
Heat level: XXX



 Jamie A. on April 1, 2018
on March 31, 2018
on April 1, 2018
WOW! Holy cheese curls!!! This book is scorching hot and makes you thrive on every word. I loved it!! I there were more stars available I would check each one.

Was it possible to go crazy listening to the man who owned the sexiest lips ever? Even if he was talking nonsense at the time, TJ was still the sexiest man Sean ever had the annoyance of arguing with.

“Just one kitten. He’s so small, he’s like half a kitten. You’d barely notice him.”

Crazy. TJ was going to drive him crazy. “There’s no way in hell.” Sean decisively typed out a string of code and hit enter. “No.”

“Please, man?” TJ whined over the wireless headset Sean was failing to ignore. “He has nowhere else to go. I swear, once you meet him, you’ll totally fall in love. He’s the cutest little ball of fluff. And his eyes! Oh, Sean, if you saw his eyes, I just know you’ll love him.”

TJ was his friend of forever and an all-around animal lover. Sean usually didn’t hold it against him until moments like this. Moments which were growing more frequent as TJ decided he was lonely and needed an animal friend to brighten his days. Sean didn’t need a cat; he needed a boyfriend. A hot, sexy, preferably fur-free boyfriend who didn’t meddle in his life.

“Stop calling me from work trying to get me to adopt one of those four-legged beasts.” Sean squinted at the nearest of his four computer monitors. “I have enough problems without adding a kitten into the mix. Do you even understand what their fur will do to my setup?” He had three computers dedicated to IT work, and he couldn’t risk them being clogged up by fur, or fleas, or whatever the hell the little beasts covered themselves in. Pets. Why the hell would TJ think he wanted a pet?

TJ, who worked at the local animal shelter, didn’t even pause at Sean’s bitchy tone. “I’m sending you a picture. Once you see him… Ha.” The sounds of a digital camera snapping filtered through his headset as TJ chased down the prospective kitten.

“Leather couch. I have a fucking leather couch,” Sean growled determinedly. “Do you even know how much the blinds on my windows cost? I’m not letting some little clawed monster near my Egyptian cotton sheets. It would be a fucking disaster.” There was no way in hell he was taking in a mangy cat. He didn’t care if it was a baby and it needed a home. He hated pets, and he most certainly hated fur. “I’m allergic,” Sean added in the hopes of stopping the conversation flat.

“Liar.” TJ snorted derisively, only to hiss a moment after. “Oh, claws are not for hugging, little guy. Shit.” The sounds of him struggling with what Sean could only assume was a monstrous kitten with ten extra claws filled his ears. “I emailed you the photo,” TJ returned after a moment. “He’s adorable. You have a huge fucking apartment and no one to enjoy it. Stop pretending rooms are for things. Love him, and take him home, and stop being a miserable bastard about everything.”

Sean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The only person he wanted to take home and love currently wouldn’t shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He never should have answered the phone.

Sean’s computer chimed. It was his personal computer, the only one not currently being used to remote into a customer’s hard drive for virus clean up. Damn it. Sean sighed as he rolled his chair to the side and woke the computer from its screensaver mode. He paused and licked his lips when the desktop image appeared. It was a closeup of a hot, short haired man being spit roasted by two buff guys cut mostly out of the shot. It was no accident the hottie in the middle looked just like TJ. Sean spent hours photo-collaging the image to ensure TJ looked as depraved and ruined as possible.

“Well?” TJ prompted excitedly as the silence stretched on.

Sean inhaled sharply and pulled his hand up from where he was unconsciously reaching for his half hard dick. “I don’t want a cat.”

“Just because you don’t like pussy doesn’t mean you can’t like a kitten,” TJ teased cheerfully. “Come on, look at him. He’s adorable. You know you want him.”

Sean grunted at the bad joke and opened the email reluctantly. A pair of bright, blue eyes surrounded by gray fur glittered back from the screen. “I’d have preferred a dick pic. It’s hideous.” Sean clicked the email closed and rolled back to the other monitor while TJ wailed dramatically. Seriously, you’d have sworn he physically assaulted the gray, ugly beast. Although not much larger than his fist, the kitten had a squashed nose and a ridiculous amount of fluff. It looked like the sort of thing Sean might mistake for a giant roaming dust ball when vacuuming. Probably even by accident.

“His eyes, Sean. He has the soul of a poet,” TJ insisted.

Sean rolled his own thankfully poet free eyes toward the ceiling. “Will you stop it already? I don’t want a pet. I don’t have time to feed kittens, and exercise them, and give them, you know…” he trailed off with a wave of his hand.

“Basic human companionship?” TJ supplied flatly.

“Attention,” Sean grunted. “Pets are a time suck. All they do is want food, then they poop the food, and sometimes they sleep. All the other time they want stuff from you. They’re just like people. There is nothing of value in any of it.” Living alone was much better. Easier. Not to mention, if he got a kitten, TJ would come over all the time.

Sean bit his lip and slowly rolled back to the other computer screen. His eyes fixed on the image of TJ being fucked senseless by two faceless men with big dicks. A cat could be the perfect excuse to get TJ to visit more. He could pretend the fluffball was sick or needed training. It could lead to them playing on the floor with TJ all sexy laughs that demanded kisses and blowjobs…

Sean shook his head roughly and reached down to squeeze his hard cock through his sweatpants. Bad. Very bad. TJ was his friend, his completely straight friend. TJ was his shy, sweet, straight friend Sean kept promising to himself he’d stop thinking about sexually. Just… Fuck, but just look at him! TJ was so hot, so unassumingly sexy with those flashing brown eyes and plump lips. He had that hot Latin lover look but with none of the confident swagger. No, TJ was impossibly shy, and it made Sean want to do things to him. Dirty things. Mean things that would have TJ begging him to stop all while cumming a river.

Sean clicked to a folder on his desktop. He teased his tongue over his teeth as he opened up the first of many nude images he had of men who looked suspiciously close to the same build and face of his sexy best friend. He was such a cockslut. Get TJ on his knees in front of a dick, and he would totally be a cockslut…

“This is exactly why you need a pet, Sean. You have no fucking clue how to share your life.” TJ’s voice took on a quality Sean tried very hard to block out as he gave a few experimental tugs on his cock. “You seriously need to get away from your computers before you forget how to talk to people. If you give them a chance, they might even like you.”

“They shouldn’t. I’m a fucking bastard and you know it,” Sean muttered. He closed his eyes as he held onto a mental image of TJ with his ass cheeks spread open, and his fluttering pucker waiting for his tongue, his fingers, his cock. If TJ even knew half of what he thought about when it came to his straight best friend, he would never talk to him again.

“Bullshit,” TJ snapped. “Sure, you say some stupid stuff, but that’s it. Everyone says stupid shit. People like you, Sean. I like you, and I happen to be an amazing judge of character. You should come out with me and some of my coworkers. We have a thing every Friday. It’s super chill, and I know you’d have fun if you gave it a chance.”

“I can’t go out,” Sean said a little too harshly. Fuck, he was so hard. Actually having TJ talking in his ear while he was playing with himself was beyond hot. It really didn’t matter what he was saying, just that it was him. The sound of TJ’s breath, his voice was all Sean needed. He could easily imagine TJ in the room, kneeling between his thighs with those perfect lips of his wrapped around his cock.

Aw, fuck. Sean wriggled in his chair and spread his legs wider. With one hand he pushed his pants down his hips, and with the other he reached in and pulled his hard cock out. Sean held his breath when TJ’s voice returned and washed over him.

“I know. I’m not asking you to actually leave the apartment. I was thinking we might have it at your place.”

“Oh,” Sean murmured as he stroked down his rigid shaft. Fuck, this was such a bad idea. “You want it here?”

“Don’t say no right away. Just hear me out,” TJ rushed on. And fuck, didn’t it just sound so fucking good to have TJ try to convince him to fuck him? To take him, and show him what being with a man would be like? Sean bit his lip and tried to drown out what his friend was actually saying.

“They’re really friendly, really nice. Some even help to train the service dogs, so they understand, you know, about people not all being the same. No one would judge you…”

“Uh huh,” Sean whispered as he clicked to another picture. This one was of a TJ lookalike with his hard dick hanging out of a pair of tight white briefs. TJ’s expression bordered on despair, and Sean made the image smaller so he could see the desktop screenshot of TJ being double teamed at the same time.

“And if you got to know people, maybe you’d be more compelled to want to go out, right? I mean, you can’t want to just stay in your apartment forever.”

“Right.” Sean breathed out slowly. His head tilted back as he thrust into his warm palm. “So right. TJ, could you just…?”

“What? What’s wrong?”

Sean grinned as he reached for the bottle of lube he kept in the desk drawer specifically for browsing porn. “Nothing. Just wondering how many dogs humped you today.”

“Fuck off, you ass. They’re just very enthusiastic to see me.”

“Yeah, but how many?” Sean snickered at TJ’s angry growl. He was forced to bite his lip and fight a moan as his lube-slick fingers wrapped around his cock. Fuck. Fuck, he wasn’t going to last like this. Talking to TJ was far more interesting when he could masturbate. “Two? Three? Seven?”

“Damn it, Sean. I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you. This is important. It might be life changing for you.”

“Uh huh.” His eyes fluttered shut as he slowly fucked into his hand. “So… you were saying?”

TJ huffed as he tried to regain his train of thought. “Damn it, okay. I just think it would be good motivation, something positive to make you want to go out into the world.”

“A kitten?” Sean asked with brows furrowed.

“No, having friends over. That is, well, meeting my friends, making friends, and, you know, getting to know people. I think it’ll help you want to leave your place.”

“TJ, driving me out of my apartment isn’t really… Oh.” Sean’s breath skipped as his balls tightened. Fuck, he was already close, so fucking close. He licked his lips and tried to pull back from the edge. He didn’t want to come yet. TJ in his ear was too fucking sexy to rush.


Hell, if he said his name like that one more time, he was going to blow. “Hold on a sec. I’m trying to focus.”

“Oh. Sorry.” TJ gave him a beat but just couldn’t seem to stay silent for long. “You sound out of breath. Tell me you’re not freaking out over this. I don’t want to freak you out. This is supposed to help, you know?”

“Uh huh. Eight…” Sean murmured as he stroked his cock from base to swollen tip. He squeezed around his sensitive head and slicked his palm in a tight twist before sliding down his shaft again. He was well aware how breathless he sounded and was too far gone to care. He wanted to fuck TJ. He wanted to fuck him hard, relentlessly, until he was crying his name. “Nine.” He glared at the computer screen where his slutty TJ was sucking cock like he was made for it, begging for it. Sean stroked his throbbing length tighter and wondered what TJ’s ass would feel like gripping around him, riding him, as he took every inch of his cock. “Ten.”

“So, what do you think?” TJ prodded, oblivious to how Sean was fading in and out of the conversation.

“How many was it?” Sean chuckled when TJ swore in his ear. “Eleven.”

“Dude, I’m serious. This is… Why are you counting?” TJ’s voice, if possible, became angrier. “Are you exercising right now, you asshole?”

Sean groaned and threw his head back. “I’m seriously trying,” he lied shamelessly as he thrust into his palm again. “Twelve.” TJ would be tighter. He’d be tight, and the noises he’d make being opened by his cock would be loud, desperate. His. Sean’s breath stuttered, and he stilled the rocking of his hips and tried not to give in to the delicious pressure building. “Fourteen,” he shuddered.

“You forgot thirteen,” TJ muttered. “Let me know when you’re done and can actually focus on me.”

He was focused. He was so focused his balls were going to turn blue. “You’re an attention whore,” Sean whispered. He wondered if TJ could hear it, the hard, hungry part of him that wanted him to be his whore. He wanted him always on his knees, waiting for him, TJ’s body his and only his.

“No, I’m just trying to have a conversation,” TJ shot back. “Do you remember those, man? You know, where you don’t stare at a computer all day?”

“I’d go stir crazy… fifteen… if I just sat in front of a computer all day.” Sean’s gaze slipped from the tip of his cock dripping precum, up to the image of TJ with his mouth wide open and full of dick. “What, you want to come to my gym? I’d let you come.” He’d let TJ cum as many times as he wanted. He’d suck him until he was begging for release. He’d fuck that tight hole of his and his mouth; TJ’s lips were made for fucking. They were so plump, so fucking red and perfect for drizzling cum all over…

“Maybe,” TJ mused as the sound of a cage closing echoed over the line. “Free is always good. Gym memberships are so expensive in the city.”

Sean squeezed his eyes shut as a vision flashed in his mind of TJ bent over a weight-bench in a pair of skimpy shorts tangled around his sneakers. TJ’s face and shoulders were bright red, his caramel toned ass and thighs rock hard and wet with sweat. The moans he made were so perfect as he took Sean’s cock and every hard, demanding thrust he pounded into him.

“Fuck.” Sean grit his jaw tight, and his head fell back as his entire body jerked in the computer chair. He came with a drawn-out growl as hot, milky streams of cum pulsed from his tip and splattered onto his sweat drenched stomach and flexing abs.

“Ha, you know, on second thought…” TJ chuckled awkwardly, the sound nearly drowned out by barking as he passed the kennel. “I don’t want to tell you what you sound like, man, but it’s obscene. Pornographic. I hope you go to the gym alone, or people might get the wrong idea.”

Sean, who covered his hand over the mouthpiece of his headset to keep from letting TJ hear the many swears he was cursing as he tried to recover his breathing, returned to his counting in a more even tone. “Twenty… Twenty-one…”

“You’re so full of shit,” TJ exclaimed. “You’re at fifteen, tops.”

“Do you want to count?” Sean’s grin felt too tight on his face as a familiar depression sank around him. It was a dream, a lie of his head. It was always going to be a fantasy even with TJ’s voice whispering in his ear. “What exactly are you saying?” Sean reached for the box of tissues he kept in the same drawer as the lube and wiped the cooling cum from his stomach. “You think when guys do pushups it sounds like they’re fucking? Pervert.”

TJ snorted. His voice was a little too high-pitched when he retorted, “No, I think when you do pushups it sounds like you’re cumming. Totally different, you deviant.”

Sean stared moodily at the ceiling, his mind still full of images of TJ acting like a hungry cockslut for him. Not real. Fuck, it wasn’t ever going to be real. Sean ran his fingers over his chest and thumbed his nipple through his t-shirt. “Just how often do you think about me cumming, straight boy?”

“Gah, stop being gross! I said it sounded. Sounded! I didn’t say I was thinking about it.”

“Right, right. My mistake.” Sean gave TJ enough time to think he let it drop, then added in a low voice, “You’re thinking about my dick right now, aren’t you?”

“Damn it!” TJ yelped while Sean chuckled darkly.

“Hey, you’re the one bringing up fluffy pussy and cum jokes. You’ve got a filthy mind, TJ. I swear you called me just so you could have someone to traumatize.”

TJ’s breath hitched, and all the laughter drained from his voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“For fuck sake,” Sean growled. “What, you think because I can’t leave the building, I can’t handle a dirty joke?” His voice was edged with an anger sourced straight from his own guilt. He was jerking off to the sound of his best friend’s voice while TJ—fucking perfect prince TJ—was worried he hurt his feelings.

“You know I would never…” TJ’s words were so slow and cautious, Sean couldn’t bear to hear them. Fuck, he was such an asshole. The things he wanted to do to TJ felt like a sick, demented disease he wasn’t ever going to be free of. He couldn’t have him. He wanted him, and he was never going to have him, and he was just fucking everything up no matter how much distance he tried to put between them. Why the fuck did he keep doing shit like this?

“Sean?” TJ called worriedly. “I said I was sorry.”

“Stop. It’s fine. I’m just fucking with you,” Sean snapped, desperate to have the conversation drop. “Stop acting like some virginal princess who can’t handle a dick joke. It’s just a fucking joke.” Sean groaned internally as he heard the callous words tumble from his mouth. Fuck, he was just digging a hole straight to Hell at this point. He was such an asshole. TJ was a virgin and so fucking sensitive about it, and still, still the perfect fuck was focused on trying to make sure Sean’s feelings weren’t hurt. Shit, why couldn’t he stop being such a dick?

Sean went to pull his pants up, and his gaze fixed on a droplet of cum he’d missed. His eyelids grew heavy as he thought of TJ licking at his skin to clean it. He’d hold it, savor it, a spot of pearly white on his red tongue. “You thirsty?” Sean asked. He couldn’t stop himself even now, even after having once again said something totally shitty to his best friend.

“Uh, a little, I guess,” TJ answered, his tone subdued. “Why, is my voice weird? I was shouting at one of the dogs earlier. It slipped its leash and booked it straight for the street.”

Sean closed his eyes and bit his lower lip hard. TJ sounded like he was sucking cock. He sounded like he was waiting for cum to be dribbled onto those perfect lips of his. He sounded like he was panting in his ear, inches away while touching himself.

“About the cat…” TJ was definitely more subdued. He was being cautious, tiptoeing around him, and Sean hated it.

“The pussy?”

TJ paused, and this time the awkward silence didn’t fill with laughter. “You know what I mean.”

Sean did, and he took no joy in harassing TJ over it. For whatever reason, TJ was a glutton for punishment today and still hadn’t hung up. He’d been calling him every day now. Sean wasn’t exactly sure why, but maybe he was really worried about the ugly little cat.

“The kitten. He’s a boy, for one. Not that you can tell when they’re so little.” TJ’s tone changed as he tried to lighten the mood like the upstanding, unattainable, perfect being he was always going to be. “He needs someone to love him, Sean. He’s all alone in the world and, well, when I see him I think of you.”

Sean sighed heavily. “Thanks, that totally makes me not want to slit my wrists. Care to throw in how I suck at dating and will never be happy as well?”

“Fuck—Sean, that’s not what I meant!” Sean was pretty sure he could literally hear TJ’s heart crack through the headset. “I want to bring the kitten over so you can meet him. What are you doing today?”

“Jerking off. All day,” Sean said without humor. It was probably true. He couldn’t stop thinking about TJ. Getting away with masturbating while on the phone with him sure as fuck hadn’t helped anything. TJ heard him cum. TJ heard him cum, and even thought he heard him cum. Fuck, yeah, he could totally jerk off to that for an entire day.

Sean sat up and tucked away the tissues and bottle of lube as he waited to see if his rude comment had pushed TJ to hang up or not. “When’s a better day?” TJ persisted, the stubborn fuck, his voice obnoxiously cheerful.

Sean grinned bitterly. “You ever think maybe you’re crowding me, man? I’ve got a shit ton of work to get done.”

“Take a break,” TJ snapped, and all the pleasantries stripped away. “I haven’t seen you in weeks, dipshit. It’s not like you have anywhere to go.”

Angry swearing. The perfect prince was close to breaking. Sean stood from his chair and headed for the kitchen. “Oh, are we throwing that in my face now? Maybe if you spent more time dating instead of worrying over my pathetic ass, you’d be laid by now.”

“My fuck—Sean! No. Giving a fuck about you is not worrying, first of all. Second, you are not pathetic, and I’m so fucking sick of you saying shit about yourself like that.”

Sean rolled his eyes. He should have insulted the cat. TJ was less likely to go into lecture mode when he wasn’t saying truthful as shit stuff about himself. “Uh huh, yup, I’m a perfect angel. You’re right, I’m brilliant. Genius. Yes, I’m a genius.” Sean kept his voice a bored drawl even as agitation tensed his muscles tighter and tighter. He hated this. He hated this more than TJ trying to get him to make friends like he was some pathetic outcast on the playground.

Sean stalked back into the living room and paced as TJ angrily rattled off all the many reasons he wasn’t a piece of shit while Sean continued to treat his best friend like a piece of shit.

“Are you done?” Sean asked when TJ finally took a breath.

“No. You’re an asshole,” TJ added sharply. “You’re totally being an asshole right now. You’ve been acting like an asshole for ages, and I’m sick of it. Stop being an asshole, Sean!”

This was when he was supposed to ask TJ something embarrassing that would send him over the edge and hang up with the declaration of never talking to him again. It was on the tip of his tongue, but Sean couldn’t bring himself to actually say it. If he were a decent human being, he’d just tell him. He’d tell him he loved him. TJ could have a nice cry about how he could never love him back, and then—only then—would it be a promise that TJ would never, ever talk to him again. Because, for whatever fucked up reason, TJ kept coming back no matter how shitty Sean acted.

Sean sighed dejectedly and threw himself into his chair. “Fine.”

“W-What? Wait, what?” TJ stuttered in shock.

“Bring the cat down,” Sean grunted. “Just don’t expect anything. I need order, and a fluffball will only fuck up everything. Not to mention litter boxes are totally disgusting.”

“Please, not having a litter box is way grosser,” TJ joked half-heartedly. “Uh… okay, then.” He managed to not sound happy even though he’d gotten the answer he wanted. Sean was far too used to that tone. He worked hard to make sure TJ wasn’t happy around him.

Fuck, he hated his life.

TJ coughed nervously. “Sean, about Friday. I really do think it would…”

An odd sensation weighed the air around him, and Sean blinked as the hair stood up on his arms. He looked up nervously as the lights faded and buzzed through the apartment. “What?” Flashes suddenly sparked and cracked alarmingly around the room, and he jumped out of his seat with a yelp. “Fuck!”

Sean whirled around, turned back to his computer, and stared in growing dread as the project he was working on for the last two hours flickered strange, glowing symbols.

“Oh, fuck. Mother fuck, no. No, no, no!” Sean grabbed at his hair as sparks shot up all around his computers.

“What… Sean? What a… his…?”

Sean twisted the headset off his ear so he didn’t have to hear TJ’s static confusion. This couldn’t be happening. Hours of work gone. Hours.

The flashing abruptly stopped, but Sean’s work screen didn’t return to normal. A single, large symbol stretched across the otherwise blank screen.


He reached forward and clicked the monitor power, but nothing changed. The symbol remained on the screen, an obnoxious purple burning toward hot pink the longer it glowed. His mind whirred, and Sean crossed the hardwood floor with large strides to the windows. He shoved the blinds aside and peered down with dawning horror at the moving truck out front of his apartment building. “Aw, fuck. This can’t be happening.”

Spirit Movers. Fucker.

“Sean, what the hell is happening? Why is my phone screen glowing purple?”

TJ’s voice finally jolted Sean back, and he twisted his headset into place. “It’s a witch. A witch is moving in.”

Wonder what happens next? With a paid membership you can read it all. Become a fan and start saving.

So Why Didn’t Gay Marriage Solve Everything? 🍄

Hey, babes ^^

So let me start by saying I don’t want to craft walls and bars with words so that people feel this is the only reality. This is the difficulty of society—the difficulty of being a storyteller when people reading the story don’t understand reality is not actually confined by our perception of it. We are confined by our perceptions of reality. I’m going to tell a story about how I see parts of reality and why I write what I write. This reality is not shared by everyone—thank fuck—but I’d love to hear your responses. I love to talk about this shit. XD Oh, and fuck, I will be getting back to the comments of last week. I got most of you—I’m so excited you’re excited about the Demon Virus interactive story! I just got caught up in writing and didn’t want to leave.

With that out of the way, I love the premise of this book and I want to talk about it! I haven’t read it yet, to be totally upfront. Once Hellcat is done I’m going to indulge in fun, damn it! (and yeah, this kind of reading is totally fun for me and my inner nerd… as is writing… as is writing Hellcat—I’m actually having lots of fun. XD) But just reading the premise, I think you can understand where ‘Sadie Sins’ might be really on board with this whole concept and it has my mind sparking.

Why Straight Guys Love Their Gay Guys: Reviving the Roots of Male Sexuality

After fifty years of progress and the advent of gay marriage, statistics on the well-being of gay men are as grim as ever. Rates of suicide, alcoholism, and drug abuse have not budged. Anxiety, depression, loneliness, and poor health are just as widespread. Studies have shown that gay men who live in urban gay communities actually are worse off, not better.

The utopia promised by gay marriage has not materialized. Gay men seem to have run out of ideas for future progress. There is little acknowledgment of the fact that something remains badly wrong. Nor is there a diagnosis of what is wrong.

This book proposes that the diagnosis is obvious if we look at the origins of male sexuality and how it was expressed in other cultures. The anti-sex Puritan system in which we are now immersed is relatively recent in human history. Yet in less than 2,000 years, knowledge of how other cultures lived and loved has been systematically wiped out. The forms of male sexuality were remarkably similar from culture to culture. But starting with the early Europeans in the last years of Rome and continuing around the globe as Europeans colonized the continents, natural male sexualities have been cruelly repressed and then obliviated. We are all Puritans now.

The greatest taboo of all in male sexuality remains unchallenged and is still heavily enforced. That is the taboo of male-male sex, which until 2003 was still a crime. This book argues that the plight of gay men is only a piece of a much larger catastrophe — the Puritanical repression of the sexualities of all men, in an attempt to harness the enormous power of male sexuality for social purposes in the name of moral progress, with promises of greater glories to be found in heaven. The damage that Puritanism caused to human beings and to stable social systems was never noticed. In fact the damage and misery were regarded as good. It was seen as payback to the devil.

This book is not arguing for something new, untested, unknown, and radical. Rather, the challenge is to return to something very old — the joy of male-male sex — which took similar forms in most of the cultures that we have knowledge of. In such worlds, it was understood that some men are more masculine than others, that some men are gayer than others, and that heterosexuality and homosexuality are complementary and of equal value. And those old worlds were worlds in which every gay man was able to take for granted what to us today is the impossible dream — sex with a straight best friend.

The Root of Sin is a Story

This is the root of all my stories, from the dirtiest noncon/dubcon/beast/incest/degradation to the sexy, happy fluff. This is why I write sex, to offer a narrative that to ‘give in’ to your fears and break the societal constructs surrounding sex will allow you to find pleasure instead of the sin. The sin is a lie, it’s something we were taught, not something that exists. But our brains hold power over us, our narratives—the narratives of society, of the casual little phrases we don’t even think about that create the bars to the cage that say sex is bad and wanting sex means you’re bad. That sweat, shit, tears, cum, vomit, urine, blood, flesh, bones—these things that are a part of living in a human body, something every single person on this planet experiences—is on some level bad and offensive. The body must be hidden and those who don’t hide theirs are narcissists, deviants, godless, seducers, sluts, asking to be harmed because to have a body is to deserve to be raped. These are the narratives we hear every day, little stories that filter in and our brains pick up and form a construct of the world around us.

This is also the root of censorship—I know, that other thing I love talking about! XD I find censorship extra fascinating because rarely is it just for reality but for imitations of reality. If you’ve been watching news about Trump and his ‘shithole’ comment, I hope you’re laughing as loudly as I am every time a newsperson goes to say the word shithole and instead they say something like “bleephole” or “you-know-what hole” XD OMG. They can’t even quote reality. Someone, somewhere is demanding these people not say certain words, and my fuck, they fucking listen, don’t they? They create a complete construct around avoiding certain mouthsounds, and those who don’t conform are punished. Book censorship of course is just as insane—the belief that an idea is wrong and shouldn’t be allowed to exist or people will be harmed.

Sit with that for a bit. Lol. So many people afraid of their brains, claiming their actions are powerless to their thoughts. How easy it would be to justify murder if we truly believed we weren’t responsible for our actions? We thought about killing someone, then we did—blame the thing that gave us the idea, not the choice of committing an action. Society can see how ludicrous that is for murder—usually, don’t get me started on the Stand Your Ground law—but for sex? For an internal desire expressed in the body that our history (and some current cultures) claim is just as atrocious as murder? Far less rational thought occurs when reacting to a societal message of morality.

The Societal System

Society pushes to say ‘don’t accept who you are unless… *insert demand*’ Unless you look a certain way, unless you act a certain way, unless you get that paycheck of a certain amount, unless some god loves you, unless you sacrifice, unless you earned it, unless you prove you’re worthy, unless your parents/teacher/priest/doctor/boss/celebrity/friend/someone approves… unless you’re something else. The message is you aren’t good enough as is; you must be something else and then you will be acceptable and loved. And this isn’t just the big society, that vague ‘them’ that encompasses a state or continent. There are tons of societies from groups of friends, to families, to the workplace, to your singular mind, and in this particular book’s case, the gay community.

I fear just the act of placing the gay label is the first step in this slippery slope of crafting cages and demanding of yourself to be something else concerning sexuality. It was in the lesbian scene I saw the most fighting, the most cruelty, the most anger. I met women abused by men who turned to women, only to be abused again. Or to abuse others. To seek drugs, to steal, to break up relationships, to blame others for their actions. Everyone was a hookup instead of a person. Everyone a savior to prove they’re worthy instead of a person. I saw women who demonized men, women who demonized mothers, women who demonized beautiful women—really, just pick a ‘type’ and someone hated them because of how they looked, how they acted, how they existed.

I saw so much unhappiness in that place, including the beautiful group of males who crossdressed as females and were so defensive, it felt like I was in a war scene when they stepped off stage and walked through a sea of women and seemed to expect to be attacked/judged/mocked. And given the sea of these hurt women, they might have had experience to feel that way. I saw women who desperately needed to have their peers reflect them so they could see who they were. It was identity through the control of others. Identity through comparing. Identity through reacting. They could only find themselves when interacting with others—others who had to fit their narrative or were punished. And why did those who were hurt by not fitting stay to fit? Because they gained identity by staying, by being labeled. Every person there was there by choice.

I can’t speak for gay men in that scene. Why? Because the sexes were segregated when it came to gay and lesbian and the clubs and parties I found myself at. I think part of the whole meat market aspect of that scene was, if you’re not in the market, you’re not welcome. I dunno. Maybe they couldn’t reflect off of such a different looking person—a man—so they kept them away? Maybe what the did reflect pushed them away? I can speculate but I don’t actually know. If I knew there were men out there who hated me just because of my gender the way some of those women hated men (even if those roots were based in abuse,) I probably wouldn’t be in a rush to hang out. XD

A Living Narrative

So, this is a story of the past that doesn’t exist anymore. One place in time through the eyes of one curious woman whose brain loves to find patterns in people and understand. These are moments in my life I remember to write the narrative of today–even if today is completely different. And this is part of the problem; we as humans take the past and project it into the future. We decide everything we know makes us a fortune teller. XD

During that time I spoke with women who left the scene who confided how painful it had been for them, how insane it was compared to being sexually evolved out in the world. I was still watching the scene trying to understand why everyone seemed to have a prescription or a drug or a trauma they were taking while calling themselves these two dimensional labels and looking to be seen but not really known. I was straight out of the psych ward hanging with a lesbian (who by the time I left was considering identifying as a male) who was fresh out of prison, and I had a bipolar bisexual girlfriend (who called herself a lesbian once she started dating me but nearly married a man right before.) The bubble I was in was real but that doesn’t mean it was the entire view.

After the psych ward, where you’re labeled by your brain/behavioral ‘malfunction’—you know, the true way to identify who you are, by the thing that fucks up your life completely and you can never be free of. XD The illness that makes you wrong compared to everyone else; that’s who you are. Sigh. Now that’s a system of suffering that keeps people suffering, and after the psych ward, the scene just seemed all too familiar. You can be sexually free, but only when you label, so make sure you know what your label is and don’t try to change it. We already have identified you by this label and we don’t want to be confused or worse, annoyed. Your sexuality is a judgment on us, especially if you ever fucked us—don’t you dare be bisexual or trans, cus that just confuses the fuck out of us and our sexual identity.

It was a beautiful chaos of pain as people tried to discover themselves while stepping on everyone’s toes. As much as they hurt each other, they hurt themselves even more, and the ones who stayed—so many stay until they find what they need—they hurt themselves the most.

Why Do We Do It?

I love people, I truly do. I love their insanity as they claw at themselves demanding the impossible while hoping against hope if they reach that goal, the suffering will finally stop. And while they’re clawing at themselves, they’re screaming at anyone who looks a little like them, demanding the same of them—be perfect, be this, be the thing I need so I can be free already. Hurry the fuck up and be what I want! XD Ah, it’s so powerful, so amazing, so fucking cruel and beautiful and we demand of our loved ones first, don’t we? Those who provide us the most on a material and emotional level we then refuse to allow to be free of our filter. If you change, then who am I?

I can look back and see how lost I was when I was this person who needed others to be a certain way so I could feel safe in the world. Err… like a year ago. XD This part is not an old story and she still pops up time to time. What an exhaustion trying to get people to change just so I could calm the fuck down over stupid shit like dishes. And what pain I inflicted on myself with my own demands.

Lol, that’s why my writing is so different these last months with less a focus on completion and more on actually writing the story as it wants to be. I finally learned to stop demanding so much of myself, and I’m still learning. A writer can be an ass to herself and decide if editing isn’t perfect, you suck. (whoops.) If that novel isn’t published by the end of the month, you’re a horrible person. And then you can find other writers to agree with that inner bitchy voice. It’s easier to see the interactions with my loved ones and stop, but the pain I commit on myself by having all those inner demands? Whooo, it has taken time.

It takes time not to respond to my loved ones when they come to me to identify them. When some days they want to feel weak and helpless in the world and they lash at me to give them the promise that I’m strong enough to carry it all for them, or that I perceive them incapable so they don’t have to try. Sometimes they define me by the mold toxicity so that they can be my hero for a little bit even if it means I can’t be my hero. It’s not a one way street—everyone is in a relationship by choice to gain whatever it is they need. Some people are afraid to move forward and they want someone to point it out to them so that they can tell themselves they don’t have to move forward, they can just be angry at you, bitch. XD Or they ask you for advice, ask you to carry them and do it for them, and when you don’t, ah, what a washing away of responsibility. Such bliss. They don’t have to do it because they handed you the responsibility, and if you don’t do it, oh, well, it gets to slip away and be unimportant, dragged out only during later arguments to ‘win’ in the battle of dominance for the right to narrate the shared story. Lol, it’s beautiful.

This could be the pain of the group, of the lgbt community that holds itself back, that demands others be a certain way because they have to be a symbol, a representation of an entire sexual movement. It has to look a certain way, and if you don’t fit you shouldn’t be allowed to exist as you are—change for us so we look the way we should.

Freedom to marry doesn’t give you anything when you’re not free to be yourself. It doesn’t change the way you think the world still sees you. It doesn’t change the way you still see yourself. It’s not only straight people who have the ability to judge. I see so many who have struggled to find their sexual identity and they feel threatened by the existence of someone similar but different. I have plenty of gay people still tell me bisexuality isn’t real. Some fear the spectrum because then they don’t know where they fit, who they are without the sexuality label nice and clear. I love writing straight to gay because of this—to show that facing the fear of being different from your self expectations can lead to pleasure.

My theme as a writer seems to be submission to inner dark desire=pleasure. XD I knew nothing about bdsm when I started writing erotica—I thought it was a super tacky genre from the few books I read at the time with all their equipment and living in clubs and their silly rules. All I saw was the structure and none of the underlying emotion. Now, after studying the push and pull of the human psyche as it seeks relief in others, I see the struggle of relinquishing to self.

So funny, the battle of the ego just looking for an escape to let go, looking for someone to save them because they don’t want to think they have the power. If they have the power, then they’re obligated to change their life, right? No thank you, just hand that over to the guy with the whip. XD Keep the changes in a safe place, one room, one little therapeutic dose of giving away control, giving in to desire without fear of consequence in the real world. A structured fantasy with the only one to judge being yourself and your partner.

Toxic Fruit

I like the premise of the book, of the greater society, of history and religion and the rejection of the human form being the roots of this problem. I want to see if it goes further. The roots still feed the plants that bear fruit, and where do we see the hurt coming from when history is dust, and morality is merely a system in place that no one is actually controlling? Why do those newspeople really hold back from swearing on television? Do they give a fuck about the concept of morality, or do they care about losing their jobs? Individual humans in this world punish them, and those who are punished choose to accept that’s the trade off to being free to speak certain words on TV—ha! I live in a country where we hold up free speech as some big right while saying it’s not allowed on television. Wow. Individuals strike out at others, demand from them what they demand of themselves to keep the world one way. They perpetuate the message while being bombarded by the message.

We are intelligent beings with technology and information beyond anything we have had before, but we still repeat the broken messages that keep us trapped. Why? Because we open our mouths and speak them. We do this; we are society. We teach our kids to be ashamed of the very bodies they are born into, while we look for ways to stop hating ourselves. We tell ourselves we can’t win in fights we never bother to battle. We create a god we must impress, must live up to, or we will suffer damnation. We decide that speaking up deserves pain, so only the most brave speak up. We create all the monsters that we end up battling or avoiding, while blaming the monsters.

Redefining Reality

Is that an ugly thought? Should it be censored so people don’t have to feel uncomfortable? The beauty of these systems that hurt us is how a changing of the message can save us. If the system in place is redefined, everything it touches redefines. Oh, let’s say the Pope declared sin nothing more than a fallacy of the mind used to control society, and every church in the system took up that belief and spread it to the followers. The next generation of Roman Catholics (and whoever listens to the Pope) could be free of sin. Actually free, instead of the indoctrination of bestowing original sin on every child born just so they could ‘baptize’ it away.

What if the psychiatric community decided to look into how allergies are linked to mental illness? What if they taught how most people who have allergies but don’t produce a certain response are far more likely to suffer mentally from bipolar to depression to mania to agitation to ocd to fits of rage, hence the rise of suicides during high pollen counts? What if when your kids are taught about nutrition, they’re not taught skewed information in there by companies—sugar—who don’t want people to know their product is not required on any level?

Systems allow for very big changes in a short amount of time and hey, they’re already in place. The media is such a system, which is why we have some channels spewing the extreme conservative narrative of ‘fear your neighbor and self,’ and others the extreme liberal narrative of ‘nothing you do is good enough unless you reach our blessed heights.’ I’m a liberal and my fuck, it’s like being a vegan among vegans—you’re never fucking good enough. Lately, I feel like I’m back in church answering to some faceless god of morality claiming gloom and doom if ideas exist and it totally sucks. No wonder Trump is terrified of the media. It’s a system bigger than him capable of changing the narrative of the world, the narrative he can’t reflect off of. He chose his enemy and his enemy grows bigger because of it.

But the caveat? Even when a system changes, it’s still up to the individual to change, to let the old message go. To allow through their filter of the world for things to be different, for things to be fun and not so fucking serious. Ugh, everyone is so damn serious. Do you know how many authors I see resend newsletters over fucking typos? Typos. Gah. I had an old guy glaring at me Christmas Eve—the entire night—and only found out when he said goodbye that he was offended by my lipring. XD I had it for 10 years but he was certain it would be infected by tomorrow because something in his past made his perception of my reality look dangerous.

Our brains are the system of oppression we’re trapped in. We perceive the messages and give them importance enough to actually follow them. Every message out in the world was first conceived in someone’s mind, which was then expressed through language where other minds picked it up, decided it was important, and followed or rejected. I used to think a vow of silence was about being able to finally hear yourself; now I wonder if it’s to do no harm on the world through the influence of words. But the words aren’t the harm, it’s still the minds that turn them into something more and act upon that belief.

There are so many people out there afraid of their thoughts. I wonder when they’ll see that they choose to act, they choose to make thoughts into an action? They choose to believe a message and hold onto it, making it part of their identity.

We Are the Storyteller

In our brains live these realities, these perceptions, these characters born of narratives—I think you’ve all met my characters in stories. XD But just as I’m an obvious storyteller, we are all telling a story about the world and about ourself. We tell the story that our attraction and gender is a part of our identity, that our job gives us value, that our family is a reflection of ourself, that if we’re not liked then we are bad/lacking, that our face defines our beauty, that to lose everything is to really lose everything.

It can be so hard to break out of that story, to see that we still persist even when everything changes. Maybe that is the joy of reading. For me it is the joy of writing. I write freedom (sexy, dirty freedom, lol) for every character I conceive. Maybe to experience a narrative—any narrative—between pages feels safer, allows us to see how we can wiggle free of the story of our life and be something else—but safely, in our brains, because that is where that story lives.

The reality is, for all my intentions, I can only hope people find freedom in my books. For some, they may be perpetuating the cage they’re trapped in, seeing their own self dissatisfaction reflected in the characters and never following to where it’s okay to be okay with yourself. Lol, those outraged reviews from poor souls so angry about the sex or the swearing or the lack of consent or the typos; I don’t think they got it. XD Maybe a few more rounds in the story until they see it can’t hurt them, pleasure is actually pleasure no matter the circumstances in a story. Orgasm = good. My characters still seek freedom and I will still record it, but there is no way to control how any of it is perceived. It’s all in the reader’s mind.

The individual is the god of their story, their world, their life. As your personal storyteller, do you choose to be the hero, the victim, the protector, the caretaker, the child, the clown, the villain? Do you let it change or are you stuck with one identity, struggling to be more than your job or your role in a family or the thing that fucks your brain up? So many stories we write about life, but are any of them as satisfying as the ones where we learn to love ourselves? And… insert masturbation joke here. XD

I have rambled the fuck away. Today I’m an artist, an observer of life who seeks understanding in the name of freedom from my own brain. I hope in my little journey, you have found some too. Let the walls fall down and get some fresh air, eh?

The New Boy

An Iron Eagle Gym Novel

Lance Packet just got a contract to shoot an erotic BDSM deck of cards; the only problem is finding models. So far everyone he’s interviewed thinks he’s looking for sex for hire. Then in walk three perfect examples of men: Tide and his friends, Tyrone and Bran.

Tide Germaine is a model and a Dom. He and his best friend Tyrone opened The Iron Eagle Gym as a place for gay men in the lifestyle to work out, do scenes, and congregate with like-minded men. The modeling is just another job for Tide, but it soon turns into a grand seduction as Tide falls for the shy, self-conscious photographer. The problem is Lance doesn’t believe he’s in Tide’s league, and he’s not at all sure about the Dom and sub thing.

It’s not going to be easy, but Tide’s going to have to convince Lance he belongs at Tide’s side as both lover and sub.

A Night To Remember: Phoenix Wedding Night

A night of romance, passion, and love that they’ll never forget…

Love and passion are in the air as the newlywed couples share their first night together as husbands. Finally released from their celibacy pact, the men are more than ready for a long night of warm romance and heated love. But they aren’t the only ones sharing their hearts and their bodies as other couples, yet to be wed, make the most of this enchanting evening as well.

Note: This is an M/M romance and should be read by readers 18yo and above only.



The Drunk Email

Nick has had a crush on his older brother for as long as he could remember. Justin is just so perfect; handsome, strong with blond hair and blue eyes. It’s impossible to look anywhere else. Nick never thought he’d ever tell his brother how he felt. That was until Justin went on a school trip out of country and Nick got lonely and really drunk.

Hellcat 20


Was he growing horns? Motherfuck, he might be growing horns.

Sean gingerly touched the throbbing flesh of his forehead while he tried to keep from swaying. The fever of yesterday had returned in full force. Wandering through the freezing cold city while lost in Noct District wasn’t helping anything. He finally found Mystic Highrise, but Sean couldn’t bring himself to actually approach the building.

Sean groaned as his forehead pulsed painfully. He was either having the world’s worst headache, or he was growing horns. Fuck, he didn’t want to be here.

He was at what he hoped was a safe distance, ducked behind the fountain in the courtyard. Sean stared up at the dark, towering building, and if ever a building could stare back, Mystic Highrise did. The skyscraper was huge. It was taller than any other building in the area and had Gothic flourishes hidden among the gargoyles that perched on its ledges. The numerous windows were tinted black, and their mirror smooth surface reflected the red and purple sky that was growing darker as each second ticked by.

It was sunset and a quiet, rather brilliant voice inside Sean whispered he should wait a little longer. If Magnolia were dead, she wouldn’t need rescuing. If she died, he wouldn’t need to go running into a building full of terrible witches and their pet dragons to save her. It would make everything so much easier.

Unfortunately, Sean made a habit of ignoring the brilliant, if not dickishly selfish voice inside him. He leaned down and dipped his hands into the fountain and took another pass at his face with the chilling water. Eddy, the guy from the alley, had been kind enough to lend Sean his shirt for as long as he might be alive to need it. It was so generous during a time he expected the worst of people, Sean was still reeling from it. It almost relieved the awkwardness of being caught painfully hard in an alley while streaked in blood. Almost.

Eddy might have thought he had a shot at him. Fuck, if his tentacles were really tentacles, he just might. Even with Eddy’s weird hair, intimidating height, and double-pupil eyes, Sean couldn’t help but check the guy out. He was hot, and built, and clearly up for sex. His hair was too short, but if those tentacles could do even half the things Soot’s tails did…

Sean stifled a groan and threw more water on his face. It had to be the demon blood. Sean hadn’t felt right since Soot fed him his blood. He was so horny, and the world kept slipping by like maybe he was drugged out his mind.

The shirt was nice, at least, if not a bit too big. It was a stylish gray button down with a few burgundy diagonal stripes that cut across his chest and shoulder. It had readily come off of Eddy after Sean explained how his demon of a boyfriend ditched him in an alley over some stupid argument. For some reason, learning Sean was dating a demon had been interesting to Eddy. Apparently paranormals thought the humans who dated demons was a thing. Like to date a demon was the wildest kink of the underworld, and anyone who did meant they were up for anything.

Sean had to admit, the preconception might not be wrong. After everything he’d been through with Soot, he’d been craving some weird sex. Tentacle level weird.

Sean made sure his skin was clean of blood before combing fingers through his hair to pull the messy locks from his face. The shirt wasn’t exactly warm, but his fever seemed to be helping him not care. What really mattered was he looked presentable enough to get into that building. He needed to look normal, like a professional and not a desperate slob off the street looking to save a witch so he could get his life back.

He didn’t feel normal. His heart was pounding in his ears like a drum. He wanted to blame it on fear, on the very obvious likelihood this was going to get him killed. Fuck, it seriously was. He was totally going to die trying to get into that building. Still, it wasn’t enough to send Sean running in the opposite direction. It wasn’t enough to stop him from feeling like he was one more chilling breeze away from running into the wilderness and never coming back.

Soot. He needed to find Soot. The fucker did something to him and it was only getting worse.

Sean slumped forward with hands braced on the fountain’s edge as another wave of heat him. His gums pulsed around his new fangs. His throat was unbearably dry no matter how much he drank, and his muscles were tight and straining in a way that made him feel puffy and feverish. Crazy. He felt crazy, and pissed off, and so freaking horny. The bastard left him hard and aching in an alley with no relief. Worse, he didn’t come back. Sean was lucky he hadn’t fucked Eddy. Shit, he wanted to fuck Eddy. The guy had a gorgeous, hard body. And those tentacles in his hair… It would have been hot. Freaky sexy. Sean was pretty sure anything would be hot if he could just get off already and feel some relief, which Soot would have realized if he stayed. But no, Soot just up and vanished.

And over what, exactly? He just said TJ’s name, the fucking emo dumbass. It wasn’t like he even had a chance with TJ. It wasn’t like it was ever going to be anything more than his pathetic crush. It wasn’t a reason to run off. It wasn’t a reason to… Fuck, TJ was hot. Like begging for dick, on his knees hot.

Sean groaned. Fuck, what did that damn demon do to him? He was aching all over, and now he was bombarded with images of fucking TJ. They were dirtier than Sean’s normal fantasies. Crueler and dominating. He wanted to do so much to TJ and the hunger burning in him was only transforming his unrequited feelings into something dark and twisted. Oh, but it was a sexy twisted.

The fountain danced before him as water flitted human shapes that twirled and spun in a cascade of magic fueled movement. Sean’s stomach churned warningly and he hunched and closed his eyes until the world stopped rocking.

Sean wasn’t sure how he was going to find Soot, but when he did, he was going to beat the fuck out of him. Soot didn’t just ruin his stuff, no, he destroyed his body and his brain. He changed his DNA. He stripped his humanity away like it wasn’t his to begin with. Not okay. Seriously, not okay. Yes, Sean might have some issues with relationships but he could honestly say he’d never stolen someone’s humanity away before.

The sun was a mere glow on the horizon behind the wall of skyscrapers. It would be nothing to just wait it out a little longer. Sean glared at his glossy reflection in the water, unable to ignore the strange sharpness to his pupils he could see far too clearly while during twilight and without his glasses. If he let Magnolia die—pain in the ass that she was—he’d never get back to normal. Either she had a spell to reverse what happened, or she’d help him track Soot down. There was no way Sean would be able to find the demon if he left the planet and returned to whatever pit in hell he crawled out of. No, he had to do this.

Damn it, he never should have left his apartment. It was like his subconscious fucking knew the moment he went outside, his life would turn to shit. Damn that cat.

Sean walked stiff-legged from the shelter of the fountain and moved across the concrete courtyard. The wide stairs led up to a disconcertingly symmetrical front entrance where flowering bushes, statues, and even the grass all mirrored itself too perfectly. Sean’s eyes darted as he furtively watched the gargoyles who were hanging on the side of the towering building. They twisted and breathed, clearly spelled to ensure no one was confused the stone guardians were indeed alive and dangerous. Most of the gargoyles were shaped like exotic serpentine dragons with tongues and tails that constantly undulated but never tangled. A few hulked, brutish gargoyles lurked at the top of the building, their shapes just barely made out in the fading light. Their dark presence was a weight waiting to fall, crush and maim whoever dared to come too close.

Dead birds littered the pavement at the base of the building, proof of the gargoyles indiscriminate protection. It was hard to stare at the lifeless bodies and not imagine being among the dead. Even wings didn’t allow those broken bird the power to escape the magic of this cruel, oppressive place. What little hope did he have?

Sean stopped his cautious steps before the four sets of gold-trimmed glass doors. A gargoyle crouched above the entrance, and gravel sprinkled down as it slashed razor sharp claws into the stone for purchase. Eddy promised that just having held a witch’s wand that day would be enough to get past the magical guardians. It sounded possible at the time. Sean’s back pocket still vibrated like he might be slightly radioactive from holding Magnolia’s wand for so long. Now though, while staring at a creature with fangs longer than his fingers and far sharper, Sean wasn’t so sure. For all he knew, Eddy thought a nerd being eaten alive by a swarm of gargoyles was the funniest joke ever.

This was such a bad idea. He had no plan, no clue. Sean fidgeted nervously and looked back the way he came. Well, fuck, what was he really going to do? Like he could go back to his trashed apartment, grab what scraps were left of his life, and move in with TJ? Yeah, that wasn’t fucking happening.

He was so screwed. Fucking cats. Fucking men. The combination of both in one beautiful, chaotic demon was the epitome of monstrous. Damn, he hated all these feelings. Once again his heart fucked him.

Sean squared his shoulders and turned to meet the gargoyle’s suspicious, empty eyes. “Hey, I gotta get into that building. I have an appointment with a witch.” Or whatever. It was the damn help, after all, if even that. The gargoyles were more like over-sized guard dogs, really. He wasn’t even sure the spelled creatures had the brains to understand language.

No response came from the stone dragon, and Sean shrugged and reached for the nearest door handle. A mistake, he quickly realized. A hiss cut through the air, and Sean gasped as something cold and heavy coiled around his shoulders. He froze, and all the breath rushed out of him at once as he felt the deadly power contained in the tail. His mind raced valiantly as he tried to think of a proper lie to keep him from being pulled up into those deadly jaws and crushed.

“Wrong door.”

Sean yelped as he was propelled sideways without further explanation. He caught himself on the tinted glass and blinked up. The gargoyle had already turned away dismissively and its tail flicked back and forth in sweeping arcs. Sean came back to himself, snatched the door handle, pulled, and scurried inside the building. He exhaled heavily when the door shut behind him and he remained alive and not remotely maimed.

Crazy. This was utterly crazy. Just what the fuck was he planning on doing?

Sean pushed off the door and looked around as he tried to get his bearings. Mystic Highrise was like the majority of office buildings he’d been in, except this felt more like the lobby of an expensive hotel than a place of business. The floor was made of black, glossy tile with glittery gold grout. There was a bank of golden elevators to the left behind a reception desk surrounded by huge vases of elegant black and purple roses. Sean bit his lip and stilled when he noticed the three receptionists across the room standing at the desk.

It would be impossible to slip past them without being seen. Not that he knew wherever the fuck he needed to go. Without Jamie to call, he was absolutely out of his depths.

There was no point turning back now, right? Well, not unless he wanted to jump back outside with those giant stone monsters and see if they thought he still smelled like magic. Crap.

Sean’s footsteps echoed uncomfortably loud in the large entry hall as he slowly crossed to the desk. He needed a plan, some sort of brilliant lie, but his mind kept drawing a blank. He needed to find a way to get to Magnolia and… and what? He had no wand or way to contact Jamie. He wasn’t even sure what was going to happen to the witch. Did draining magic actually kill a person? Was it like stealing blood?

Sean readily admitted he was terrible under stress. This always happened to him. He didn’t test well, and all his arguments turned into huge freakouts because he could never keep his shit together. And really, why should he expect this to go any better? He was dressed like a vagabond while in the middle of professional luxury. He was covered in wounds, dirt and blood, and he was totally going to be thrown out by security. That, or shot… spelled? Witch security probably spelled. It probably even more. So he was going to be spelled and kicked out on his ass, and while he was being eaten alive by those gruesome gargoyles, Magnolia would be drained. Game over. No respawn. No do over. The End.

“Can I help you?”

“Uh, what?” Sean started and blinked rapidly. At some point he must have made it to the receptionist desk. The scent of roses was a noxious perfume as his eyes fixed on a twenty-something, impeccably groomed man behind the desk. Fuck, he was so under-dressed for this place. Jeans were not the right choice for saving a witch from Mystic Highrise. The receptionist’s young age might have set Sean at ease, except he was standing stiff as a board while wearing a suit. There was a headset attached to his ear and Sean had a moment to wonder if security would be called as the guy’s expression soured to impatient the longer Sean floundered for words. His critical stare of Sean’s state of being wasn’t helping.

“State your business,” the receptionist snapped impatiently. “Hurry up, now.”

The guy was hot. Like, if he didn’t have a stick up his ass and look like he wanted to hit him… Hell, Sean wasn’t feeling picky at the moment. The guy was hot enough even if he didn’t have weird tentacles or a tail or five.

“Uh, I’m Sean Slater,” he finally managed to blurt out around his messed up thoughts. Sean’s eyes widened immediately after, and he clicked his mouth shut. He hadn’t wanted to tell anyone that. He was there to rescue Magnolia, and giving his name was totally going to put him in danger if the police became involved.

Would the police be involved? There was a dragon. The police should be involved, but then, hadn’t Jamie said something about a body needing to be found first?

Oh shit, would it be his body?

“And what do you do, Sean Slater?” The receptionist sighed when Sean stared back blankly with panic clear in his green eyes. “State your business. Are you looking for a mage, a sage, a necromancer? What do you want?” he practically growled. “You do have an appointment, correct?”

Death. This was totally going to lead to his death. “IT.” Sean coughed awkwardly, his voice a rasp of nerves. “I’m with IT.”

“Oh.” The receptionist blinked pale eyes and raised his hand to touch a finger to the headset hooked to his ear. He fixed his sharp gaze on Sean as he listened to whoever was talking on the other end.

Sean’s mind raced as he tried to think of something to follow up with. Being there to save Magnolia seemed a little too on the nose. He needed to speak to Divia? He wasn’t sure who the enemy was just yet. If he gave away…

“Mr. Slater, we’ve been expecting you.”

“What?” Sean took an involuntary step back. He looked to the other two employees, a woman and an even younger man who was glowing with magic, to see if they were already calling for backup to capture him. Sean’s pulse calmed a little when he saw they weren’t paying him any attention but instead staring at screens as they typed away.

“We’ve been waiting on IT for over two hours now. Becky, ring her up.” The receptionist’s voice turned clipped as he addressed his colleague and moved out from behind the desk. “With me, Mr. Slater. Hurry up. Time is of the essence. It does not do to keep her waiting.”

“Her?” Sean parroted as he got his wobbly knees to work enough to follow after. He wasn’t fully sure his brain was working as it should. Everything was too hot, and his headache was much worse when he moved.

The receptionist stepped briskly to the set of elevators, and Sean did his best not to stare at the guy’s ass. He was losing his mind. He was certain he was facing death at every turn, but that fear had no power over Sean’s dick.

“She’s in a foul mood, so don’t get too chatty.” The receptionist stopped and pulled a key from his pocket, which he inserted it a slot above the elevator buttons. “The tech has been iffy all day, and no one can get a signal in the building. It’s thrown off schedule of everything.” Pale eyes pierced accusingly, as if Sean first destroyed all their tech just to come in and fix it. Sean would have taken it personally, but it was not the first time he’d gotten such looks. People got really pissed when they couldn’t get Internet.

The elevator chimed open, and Sean stared into the small, golden room. “Uh.”

“She’s expecting you.” The receptionist glared when Sean refused to move. “It took you two hours to get here. The least you can do is actually get the job done,” he muttered under his breath as he shoved Sean by the shoulder and pushed him into the elevator.

Sean grabbed the elevator wall before he could slam his nose into it, and whirled with eyes wide. The condescending look on the receptionist face didn’t alleviate his fears of having just entered the gaudiest coffin ever. Sean watched as the young man reached in and pushed a button and withdrew his hand. The doors began to close, and Sean fought a whimper.

“Wait. Where am I going?” he asked desperately.

The hand returned as did the scathing glare of the receptionist as he held the elevator open. “Are you insane or just stupid?”

“Uh…” Sean wasn’t sure how he wanted to answer such a question. He was feeling pretty damn crazy at the moment. “I’m new?”

“Of course you are. Fucking cowards.” The receptionist moved on before Sean could ask what he meant. “Mr. Slater, the union will protect you from being killed by someone like me. It doesn’t mean Divia will put up with any nonsense. Do your job and get out.”

“Divia?” Oh, fuck. Sean bit his lip. “Do you mean…?”

“There is only one Divia, and I have no interest in being at the wand end of her bitch rant just because you want to blather. Go. Now.” He released the elevator door. Sean lunged to stop it from closing but was too slow. The elevator lurched, and he grabbed the wall as it began to ascend.

Crap. Crap, he was so screwed.

Hellcat 16



Sean ran full tilt down the sidewalk, but the cab pulled away, oblivious to his presence. “Damn it!” Sean slowed and stopped with a growl. He crossed his arms awkwardly over his bare chest and looked around his surroundings and the people streaming by. Everyone was staring at him and it was only making the strange pulse in his veins worse. He was hungry. Fuck, when did he start feeling this hungry?

Sean had no idea where the hell he was. He didn’t venture out much into the city, and Blake wasn’t fully to blame. Sean was a tech nerd who could only be happy when his environment was controlled. Even when he lived with TJ, Sean was never one for crowds and noise. Both were in abundance in the downtown area. At least, he was pretty sure he was still downtown. Without his phone, he had no map or way to figure out where he was beside staring up at street signs like a dumbass tourist.

Well, that or ask someone. Sean knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Sean shot his hand up when he caught sight of an approaching taxi. “Hey!” Through the windshield, Sean saw when the driver’s gaze fell on him. The man’s expression twisted when he saw he was shirtless and bloody. Sean sighed when the cab didn’t even pretend to slow as it roared past. “Damn.” He was so screwed. This would have been way easier in his car. Motherfuck.

Sean’s steps were heavy as he shuffled down the busy streets toward what he hoped was Noct District. He felt unbearably self conscious. He didn’t like being looked at, and everyone was staring. Sean’s biggest fear was it wasn’t just from his torn jeans, bloody back, and messy hair. He kept wondering what people saw when they looked his way and quickly away like he was the biggest freak out there. Was it some sort of demonic being these strangers caught a glimpse of when they focused on him? Could they tell there was something off about him, something not right?

Sean didn’t feel right. He didn’t feel like himself at all. He felt crazed with the fear swirling inside him. Fear, and something else… There was a new hunger clutching at his chest. Sean wasn’t sure what the hell was happening to him, but he was certain Soot was to blame. It was either some terrible side effect from being with the familiar, like a demonic case of STIs. Or it was something else. Maybe it was even something intentional.

Sean went to push his glasses in place, and hissed in annoyance when he remembered they were gone. No, he wasn’t normal. The damn demon did something to him, and he wasn’t normal anymore. Sean kept moving once he got ahold of himself, and he forced his fear aside. He didn’t want Soot to know what he was doing. He couldn’t trust that the demon wouldn’t try to stop him the moment Soot discovered that saving Magnolia meant Sean was really getting rid of him.

Soot stalked him as they walked. He was a dark, small shadow Sean vehemently refused to allow on his shoulder. Sean did his best not to think of the demon cat at all. The little bastard caused him more grief than anything else. If Soot never tricked him into freeing him from that cage, Sean would have been able to set up Magnolia’s computer, been paid, and not have to worry about any culpability in her kidnapping. For all he knew, Magnolia might have never even been captured by that dragon.

Sean’s thoughts were a dark buzz the more he considered his lack of options. He felt completely trapped with certain death waiting at every turn. What if he actually managed to save Magnolia, and she blamed him anyways? What if there was no way to change him back to normal? Sean ran his tongue over his fang again, and his nerves ticked up another notch.

Hell, just what was he becoming? Was Soot looking to turn him into his permanent fuck toy? Was that why he got so hard, so easily for the demon? Was Soot trying to magic him into his personal sex slave?

And if it wasn’t personal? What if the demon was just as bad as Magnolia, who planned on selling the familiar for millions? Would Soot sell him once he grew tired of fucking him to exhaustion? Sean had no idea how demons came to be. Maybe this was it. Maybe demons made demons. Maybe the next time he woke up, he’d have giant horns, and a tail, and want to eat people.

Dear fuck, he was seriously freaking himself out!

Sean growled and plodded forward in the cool autumn air. The city was a blur of grays and noise all around him that couldn’t quite break through the frenzied whirl of his thoughts.

He hated his life. He hated his stupid, brilliant brain that never shut up, and he hated his life. His parents were right; he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. Ha, he show them, hadn’t he? He hooked up with Blake, the first guy willing to play daddy for him, and pretended he was in love until the fucker hit him hard enough that he had to care. So Sean kicked Blake out and kept all the bills he couldn’t pay because, you know, he was a fucking genius.

Maybe he wouldn’t have struggled if he just settled on a roommate, but Sean couldn’t do that right either. He always found something wrong with whoever he let stay in the apartment. When he looked back, it was all superficial shit that didn’t matter. What mattered was getting the rent paid. But at the time, fuck, it felt like the end of the world and Sean kicked them out over it.

They weren’t TJ. That was always going to be his fucking problem till the day he died. He wanted TJ and he was never going to have him.

He did this to himself. He dug his grave and then bitched about having to wait to end up in it. Fuck.

Sean slowed his steps as he came across a sign announcing the subway entrance was up ahead. His stomach churned unpleasantly, and he was grateful it was empty of food.

Given his limited options, it was the smartest solution. No taxi was going to pick him up while he looked like this. Sure, it was the city, but even buses required shoes and a shirt. The subway, on the other hand, was home to every freak imaginable. Soot could walk in there naked, and no one would bat an eye. Just… Just, dear fuck, the subway was terrifying.

Sean could hear Blake laughing in the back of his mind. It was that annoying, condescending chuckle that showed up whenever he decided Sean was acting like a child. It did nothing to stop Sean’s fear, it just made him angry on top of it. Being angry was easier than feeling hurt, and Sean had plenty of anger left over for all he’d been through.

It wasn’t like there were actual monsters down there in the subway. Well, none that anyone could prove weren’t just doctored photos. He seriously doubted Bigfoot was chilling in the tunnels feeding off of the trash humanity discarded. Still, Sean’s fear refused to dissolve as he approached the entrance. It was ridiculous—he knew it was fucking ridiculous. He was literally being followed by the most dangerous, although currently petite, demon Sean had ever had the misfortune to encounter, yet he still managed to be afraid of the damn subway. There was nothing fair about it. He hated his messed up brain that made everything harder than it needed to be.

Stray brittle leaves crunched beneath Sean’s shoes as he descended down the concrete stairs. It was colder here where the sun didn’t reach. The light dimmed until everything was lit in an eerie green from the bulbs on the wall. Sean wrinkled his nose and fought his rebellious stomach as the scent of the underground, decay, and stale urine mingled and hit him all at once. Soot leaped down the stairs like dark water poured from a vase and sidled up to Sean’s ankles. As upset as he was with the damn shapeshifter, Sean couldn’t help but feel grateful Soot was there to support him.

Or maybe just trip.

Sean yelped as his legs tangled around Soot when he took a step out of the stairwell. He caught himself before he sailed to the ground, but just barely. “Damn it, Soot,” Sean muttered as he straightened and made sure he hadn’t harmed the little cat. Soot looked up at him with a far too innocent expression in his wide, violet eyes. Sean glared back suspiciously, but he couldn’t prove it wasn’t an accident. Soot was usually very obvious in his intention to destroy him.

Sean shook his head in frustration and made his way to the wall where a large map of the routes was imprinted on plastic.

He had taken the subway with TJ half a dozen times, so he didn’t feel completely out of place. Sort of. TJ was just so sure of everything, and when they went out, Sean always focused on him and not his surroundings. It was less panic inducing that way. TJ never worried about getting mugged because of how he dressed, or attacked because people were crazy. People were fucking crazy.

Sean tried his best to figure out the map while at the same time glancing around warily for any signs of danger. People kept walking up behind him. It made him tense, more so once he realized they were looking at his glass shredded back.

Damn it, why hadn’t Soot just magicked up a shirt? It would be so simple for the demon. Sean scowled and his gaze fell to where Soot was preening as a stranger tried to pet him. The little hellion destroyed instead of helped. It wasn’t like Sean could have gone back into the apartment—not after a dragon and Blake had both been there. Now he had no door. Thieves were going to be walking into his place, and even though there might not be anything there to steal, they were all going to think he was a total slob. Somehow it felt worse.

Sean shook his head and tried to focus on the overcomplicated map. He hadn’t had a moment to think since he woke. It felt like he hadn’t had a moment to think since those damn Spirit Movers showed up. It was bizarre to look back and try to piece together just what brought him to this large map under the city with the scent of toasted bread and piss filtering on the stale air. He wanted to go home. He wanted to have a home to go back to. Once the property managers saw the damage done to his place, he was out. Unless he could somehow blame it all on Magnolia…


Soot head-butted his leg, and Sean jumped in surprise. “Stop that. Are you trying to kill me?” Sean stumbled sideways and grabbed the wall for balance. His hand came back sticky and he scowled. Gross. Everything about being outside his apartment was gross, uncomfortable, and all around sucky.

Sean glared behind him, and his expression wilted when he caught sight of a group of teens dressed in outrageous clothes who were shouting to each other. Their voices echoed loudly to be heard over the approaching train. Damn, they were going to be getting on the same train he was.

Sean let his gaze slide around the wide concrete underground where people were lined up near the rails. Where had they all come from? Were they all getting on the train? There was no way they’d all fit.

Sean’s dismay grew when the screeching breaks of the train cut off and the doors whooshed open after it stopped. He couldn’t bring himself to approach. The train was already full, and only a trickle of people stepped off. He couldn’t do this. He’d be jammed in there like melted jellybeans in a glass jar. What if they crashed, or the train caught on fire? What if this insane little hellcat decided to start destroying things, and people, and train engines while they were traveling? There would be no way to pry their mangled bodies apart to get free.

The edges of Sean’s vision turned black. He whirled as a sickening wave of heat hit him hard. He kept his head ducked as he headed for the stairwell and rushed up the steps while breathing through his mouth to keep the scent of the underground at bay. He would not throw up. He refused to throw up on top of looking like some insane freak who couldn’t even dress himself. Sean could feel dozens of eyes on him as he stared resolutely at his feet and stumbled up the stairs. Fuck them. Fuck this entire day.

Once he was in the fresh air and sunlight, Sean grasped at a wrought iron gate and hunched forward. He forced himself to take deep, even breaths while blocking out how much he was fucking himself over by not getting on the train. It was a long walk on foot, possibly too long if he were honest, but fuck, there were all those people. People crowded on a train with no place to escape if something went wrong. It wasn’t like Soot proved trustworthy in that regard. The little bastard destroyed everything he touched from windows, doors, and his car.

His eyes fell to where Soot was resting. The little cat was watching him intently and Sean felt his breath hitch. He made himself look away, but it was no use. He started thinking about all the things Soot did to him, and his body was flushed and wanting as each dark, dirty thought spiraled through him. Damn it. What was happening to him?

Sean felt like everyone who walked by wasn’t a person anymore but sex; hot, sweaty sex he was starving for. Something had changed in him and it was only getting worse. It was a need to be touched, taken, and under that, this need to feed. He was hungry. He needed Soot human and not some little bratty cat. He wanted his cock—all of his cocks—and it was destroying him.

Sean exhaled heavily and ran his palm over his pale face. Sweat coated his skin and he grimaced. He wanted to go home, curl up under the covers, and pretend the last two days hadn’t happened. He just wanted things to be easy again. Normal. Not life threatening and insane at every damn turn.

There was a loud hiss of breaks, and Sean lifted his head and looked to the side where a bus was letting off passengers. He read the illuminated sign, and his hopes raised when he realized the bus would travel right by Mystic Highrise. Sean bit his lower lip as he dared to take the wand from his back pocket and carefully unwound his shirt from the instrument. He could do this. He needed to do this.

If he could talk his way on the bus, it wouldn’t fucking matter how many people thought he looked insane. He just needed to get to the damn building and then let Jamie do the rest.

Sean winced as a waterfall of sickening pins and needles tingled through him from where his hand now touched Magnolia’s wand without any fabric boundary. He shrugged into his wrinkled shirt and pulled the scraps around him tight. It wouldn’t cover his chest and was streaked in blood, but hopefully it would be enough to get him on the bus. Sean tucked the wand into his back pocket and gave the shirt a quick brush down. One goal at a time. He just needed to get on the bus.

The bus hydraulics hissed again and Sean’s pulse jumped. It would be leaving soon, and there was no time for second guessing. With a deep breath, he pushed off the gate and headed for the dull silver bus. He made it five steps before Soot appeared in a blur between his feet. Sean cried out as his shoes tangled and he fell. His chin crashed into the concrete before he could catch himself.

“Son of a bitch—Soot!” Sean blinked out of his daze and scrambled to get to his feet and the bus. His palms were on fire as he pushed off the uneven concrete. He lost his balance, slipped, and slammed his knee onto the pavement when Soot took that exact moment to rub his silky head against Sean’s cheek. “Damn it. Damn it to hell.” Sean managed to get around the familiar and on his feet, his eyes wide with dismay to find the bus halfway down the street already.

He whirled and glared down at the cat, who was now purring at his pant leg. Was it on purpose? Was the little fucker sabotaging him on purpose?

Did Soot know what he was planning? Damn it, it wasn’t like he was betraying the shapeshifter, he just… fuck. Fuck, he needed help. He was losing his mind, and nothing made sense, and he was so fucking tired. He didn’t ask for any of this, it was all just thrust at him when Magnolia sashayed into his apartment building. Sean’s rule of staying the fuck away from magic seemed more and more poignant as he glared down in exasperation, and Soot continued to rub his head against his leg affectionately.

Damn it.

Sean sighed as he scooped the cat up and cradled him to his chest one handed. Soot immediately purred and nuzzled closer. How the demon could look so cute while making his life hell was beyond him. “That wasn’t funny. None of this has been funny,” Sean said sternly. Soot stared back, his violet eyes far too innocent to be believable. Soot leaned forward and Sean huffed softly when his bruised chin was licked better.

He turned his head to stare the way the bus went. It was just walking. As long as he avoided the crazies, and booked it before nightfall, it should be fine. He could do this. Totally.