Blog

🎃💀A Smexy Halloween!💀🎃

Hey babes,

Think I wore myself out this week or so with all the cleaning and such. But I’m looking forward to all the trick-or-treaters ghouling it up in search of a sugar high, and, of course, all the paranormal mm fiction that pops up around this time of year. <3

I’ve got Taken By Beasts knocked down to $0.99 this week, and free to read in KU. So if you haven’t snagged it yet, it’s a good time. I had hoped to edit it up but timing and me rarely work well together. @[email protected] I’m sure it’ll happen. Seeing as Hellcat was supposed to be a Halloween fic and ended up publishing in March, I think we all may have a wait on seeing me edit the old stuff up.

And let’s be real, I’m just so excited about the Paranormal Academy for Troubled Boys! If anything is going to eclipse my life, it’s that. While writing Shiny Thief, I got to this scene I hadn’t expected (I love it when that happens) where I got to really explore Justin’s werewolf side. I realized I only touched on the background characters in Demon Arms, and really want to remedy that going forward. I want this world to feel in depth, concrete, freaking awesome, really!

Is it a good time for a sneak peek?

It’s not properly edited, but I’m kinda loving crazy Justin. He has such a nice duality, and I didn’t realize I wanted to have him basically be a split personality until recently.

I have all these ideas spinning as I hit the part of the Demon Arms rewrite where Wylie first arrives at the Academy. It’s this question of, ‘how do I show/portray these characters instead of describe them?’ In Demon Arms, I told you Justin was a werewolf and had ‘crazy’ moments, but I never showed it. I never showed you Fox so hyped up he’d be distracted enough to run in front of a car. I really want to find entertaining ways to show these things instead of just summarizing on the page. I think it’s just a better reading experience (or so, I hope.)

So here we go. A little excerpt from Shiny Thief right after Justin goes crazy wolf, takes on Leo, and Forest comes to the rescue. I imagine you won’t all have the context to know what the hell is going on or who Raider is, but still, Justin being wolfish and Forest saving the day!

Forest was a dark shadow melting through the dimly lit woods. He was long, lithe and limber as he slunk low to the ground and poured from brush to tree trunk with absolute grace. Even though the black leopard wasn’t in his natural habitat, he padded through the drifts of snow crossed with shadows with a predator’s ease, his yellow eyes darting for signs of movement. Whiskers twitched in the distance, and Forest’s ears perked forward as he caught sight of a rabbit nibbling unsuspectingly at a rare sprig of green among the white of the forest floor.

Forest’s tail slashed behind him in anticipation as he crouched. His muscles tensed, and his eyes never left his unsuspecting victim as he watched the rabbit dig into the snow and reveal a fresh, green root. The moment the rabbit ducked it’s head to eat, Forest leapt and shot out from behind a shrub and darting with precision. Snow flew up around him in a spray of white that glittered as it caught the fading sunlight.

“Bunny!” A whir of black, purple, and green darted past.

A scarf flattened across Forest’s face, and he stopped short. His momentum sent him tumbling in a heap as he slid across the snowy floor. A dusty cloud of snow rose up where he landed. By the time the glittering spray faded, Forest’s human form was revealed, crumpled in the snow. His dark hair was a mess, and jacket twisted unnaturally from his fall, but otherwise he was unharmed.

Forest’s eyes landed on the green and purple stripped scarf that was tangled around his shoulder and half in his face. He grabbed it with a hiss and pulled it free. “Dante, that rabbit’s mine!”

A child’s laugh rang out full of undisguised mirth. “Not when you’re so slow, it isn’t.”

Forest’s yellow eyes narrowed. He was pretty sure he had said something similar when he sniped a chipmunk from the pipsqueak’s sights just the other day.

“Doesn’t matter; it got away when you nearly squished it. No one wants a smooshed bunny.” Dante jumped over to where Forest had fallen and peered down at his grumpy expression. Dante’s green eyes sparkled with mischief and his cheeks were flushed rosy from running in the cold. “Race you back to the Academy?”

Normally, Forest was happy to kid around with Dante. Today, after his frustrating dead end with Raider and weeks of his heat, everything was just pissing him off.

“Brat, you could have been seriously hurt,” Forest snapped as he pushed himself up on his knees and brushed down his snowy jacket with quick swipes. “What if my cat didn’t realize who you were and he attacked you? What if I fell the wrong way and broke you in half? You have to be careful.”

Dante tilted his head, a faint smile twisted on his lips. “Pretty sure you’d have to be able to keep up with me first.”

Forest snarled. “You little…”

A distant howl echoed on the wind, and Forest and Dante immediately fell silent and turned toward the sound.

Dante bit his lower lip worriedly. “That sounded like Justin’s bad wolf.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it did.” Forest got to his feet and fished Dante’s scarf out of the snow drift. He wrapped it around the shorter boy’s neck a few times and made sure he was bundled up.

“It’s the full moon tonight,” Dante reminded as he stared out into the woods and listened for more howls. The normal bird calls were silent after the werewolf’s call. Even though no more howls could be heard, the lack of sound made it even more ominous.

“I know. Justin’s going to be having a harder time being himself today.” Forest sighed when he saw Dante’s gloves had been lost, or maybe never even put on before he went outside. “Listen, I want you to stay here. If Justin is acting crazy, he’s going to feel really bad if your feelings are hurt.”

Dante scoffed and shook his head. “No way. I’m not going to leave him alone with that crazy wolf in his head.”

Dante took a few skipping steps toward where the howl had come from, then turned back to wait for Forest. One side of his scarf unwound from his slender shoulders and dangled down around his knees, somehow already dusted in fresh snow. “Come on.”

Forest sighed under his breath. He was well aware if Dante wanted to go, he would do whatever the hell he wanted. The paranormal of unknown origins, who didn’t look more than twelve, was beyond stubborn whenever it came to making sure his friends were okay. Dante was also slippery, and always showed up or disappeared whenever he pleased.

“Fine, but stay behind me,” Forest insisted. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You’re the one who tripped,” Dante pointed out quietly as Forest reached where he was waiting.

Forest scowled and pushed his dripping hair from his face. “Yeah, yeah. Well if I can smoosh a bunny, I might end up smooshing you too, huh?” He ruffled Dante’s hair. “You don’t want to end up all squished by a giant leopard.”

Dante snickered and ducked away, his hands rising to comb his black locks back into place. “You’d still have to be able to catch me.”

Forest smiled bemusedly, but his expression darkened the further they walked into the thick stand of trees. The soft, serene sounds of the woods muffled by snow were replaced with growls, roars, and grunts of exertion. It sounded like a hunt gone wrong, a hunt with a very pissed of lion and werewolf.

Dante bit his lower lip as he peered out into the woods and the sounds of growling echoed on the air. “Fighting.”

“Yeah, that’s Leo’s roar. We’re close.” Forest quickened his pace, his heart stuck in his throat. If Leo was fighting Justin, shit could go seriously bad really quick. Leo had monstrous strength and a tentative hold on his explosive temper on the best of days. These had not been the best of days for Leo.

Forest’s strides stopped short when a distorted howl ripped through the air. “Justin. Oh shit.” A terrifying thought struck him, and Forest took off running. If Justin’s crazy wolf had taken over and he was going after Leo, there was no promise he’d stop until someone was dead.

“Stay back,” Forest ordered Dante as the clearing up ahead came into view. Forest leaped over a stand of brambles and burst through the underbrush. His sneakers hit the icy pavement of the driveway hidden in snow, and Forest tried to catch his balance as he stumbled to a halt. His eyes darted from where Raider was crumpled in the snow, Justin was standing over him snarling like a ferocious animal, and Leo was pushing himself up from a painful sprawl.

“Holy fuck.” Forest swallowed hard when he saw Leo’s throat and the center of his chest were coated in blood. From the distance, he wasn’t sure if Justin had gotten his jugular or if the blood was purely from the slashes on his face. Leo didn’t look like he was about to drop from a killing blow, and it was the only thing that kept Forest from freaking out and going cat.

Justin smelled all werewolf, a sickening mix of dark magic and twisted canine. It was something Forest had thought he had grown used to until now, hours before the full moon with the scent of blood hot on the air.

“Raider, are you okay?” Forest called, his voice hoarse. He couldn’t see if Raider was injured, but for whatever reason he was just lying in the snow. Forest tried not to assume the worst as Justin’s growl tore through the air.

“He’s fine,” Justin snarled. “Mind your own fucking business.” Before Forest could respond, Justin stalked to where Raider was hunched, dazed in the snow. Raider blinked up, his expression one of bafflement when Justin grabbed him roughly by the hair.

“Don’t worry, bitch. None of these fuckwits are going to take you from me.” With a fierce growl, Justin crossed the distance and crushed his lips against Raider. Raider whimpered into the rough kiss and relaxed in Justin’s arms. His lips parted readily as Justin’s tongue stroked into his mouth.

“Son of a whore,” Forest groaned and slapped his forehead. “Michael was right. Fuck, Michael was totally right.”

“Who’s Justin kissing?” Dante stepped up beside Forest, his head tilted curiously at the sight of Justin pulling kiss after breathless kiss from Raider’s swollen lips.

“Raider. He’s new.” Forest shook his head as he tried to clear away the guilt of nearly doing the same to Raider less than an hour ago. Whatever Raider was, it fucked up alphas types hardcore. It had to be a scent thing. If Justin’s crazy wolf was calling Raider a bitch, it was totally a scent thing.

Dante nodded slowly. “Okay. But why is Justin kissing him?”

“Because he’s lost his shit and apparently it’s contagious,” Forest muttered as he desperately assessed his options. Getting close to Raider might leave him just as fucked up as Leo and Justin. Forest’s cat wasn’t an alpha, but he was definitely interested in Raider enough to make a total ass of himself if he wasn’t careful.

Forest was torn from his worried thoughts when Leo lumbered to his feet and immediately took a swing at Justin. The werewolf jumped back with magically enhanced speed, but only noticed too late how he had given up his position over Raider. Justin sneered when Leo pulled Raider into his arms and kissed him with possessive intent.

Dante watched the exchange with interest. “Why is Leo…?”

“For fuck sake.” Forest quickly reached over and covered Dante’s eyes when Leo made a grab for Raider’s ass. “Listen, I can’t really explain the exact craziness of everything at the moment,” he said under his breath as he pushed Dante behind him. “I’m going to draw Justin and Leo into the woods. When I do, I want you to help Raider and bring him to the Academy. I think once Leo and Justin are away from Raider’s scent, they’re going to start acting normal again.”

“His scent?” Dante raised his head and his small nostrils flared.

“Yeah, I think he has a messed up scent and it’s fucking with the alphas. Shit, and Leo is still in heat.” Forest groaned in dismay and pushed his wet bangs from his face. “What a fucking disaster. We’re lucky Leo hasn’t torn Justin to pieces yet.”

“Justin’s really fast,” Dante reminded quietly, his eyes glued on the way the werewolf had just charged at Leo and the alpha lion had charged back, only to end up face first in the snow. “Justin’s scary fast when his wolf is out.”

“I know. I’m not going to let them hurt you, okay?” Forest reassured even as fear gnawed at his gut. He had yet to see Justin’s wolf control his friend for this long, and he was growing more and more worried it was somehow permanent. “Wait here, and I’ll draw them away. It’s going to be fine.”

Dante raised his eyebrows as Forest stepped away to confront Justin and Leo. “I’m not afraid of…”

“Shhh.” Forest dismissed him with a frantic wave. The closer he got, the more he could smell Justin’s alarming werewolf scent. It was difficult to know if his panic was from the situation or the instinctual fear that filled any shifter animal when the cursed scent was around.

Forest crouched down and grabbed a handful of snow. “Leo! Justin! Get it the fuck together!” Picking the one still standing and hovering possessively over Raider, Forest threw a snowball at the back of Justin’s head.

Justin jerked to the side before the snowball could connect. He whirled, and his blazing amber eyes narrowed with deadly promise on Forest. Forest tried his best to hide his fear while behind Justin, Raider collapsed to the ground with a whimper.

Forest had never seen Justin like this before, not for such a long, focused interval. Justin’s crazy wolf had only ever come out in short, sporadic moments, usually while bitching over stupid, territorial stuff that plagued alphas of all species. Forest could only hope that it had everything to do with the full moon, and it wasn’t some sort of heat, or worse, a new evolution. Some werewolves, their vicious wolves took them over until the human was lost completely. Forest had never thought that could happen to his sweet, empathetic friend, but seeing Justin like this had him terrified he was about to lose Justin to the curse forever.

It had to be the scent, the moon, something. The killer glaring out from Justin’s eyes had always been trapped before, and surely he would be trapped again.

Forest whipped another snowball at Justin, who didn’t bother to move this time. The snowball exploded in a spray of slush and ice as it struck Justin on the side of the head. Justin snarled, his normally sweet face was full of his murderous wolf as he deliberately wiped the snow away with his wrist. The blood smeared across his nose and cheek smudged down, staining his face red as Justin glared.

“Are you seriously so fucking dumb you’re challenging me?” Justin demanded, his voice distorted by his cursed wolf. “What the fuck is wrong with you dick for brain cats? I can take both of you fuckers out in a minute if I wanted to. Just go the fuck away.”

Forest’s stomach twisted as he heard the truth in those words. The thing was, Justin probably could take them out, easy. While a shifter might have extra strength, grace, and primal instincts, a werewolf had that on top of the unique abilities of the curse. Justin’s crazed wolf would make him stronger just as he was faster, it would make him ruthless in any fight without an inkling of morality as to when to stop, and it would allow him to heal in minutes from any wound while a shifter would bleed out until dead.

Magic could be used to restrain a werewolf, but Forest wasn’t a magic user, not really. He had some ability, but he was totally shit at it. They all liked to make fun of Fox for blowing up the Body Magic classroom all the time, but Forest was pretty sure if he tried as much as Fox did, he’d be just as terrible in his control. The only way to really stop a werewolf was to kill him, and Forest wasn’t sure he had that in him, not when it came to Justin.

Leo suddenly roared as he lumbered back to his feet, and Forest’s eyes went wide when the lion shifter charged right at Justin’s back.

He wouldn’t win. And if Leo did win, it wouldn’t solve anything. There would still be at least one crazy alpha trying to claim Raider.

“Shit!” Forest growled. His heart pounded in his ears as Forest bent down and gathered what he could of his tenuous magic into his palms along with the feel of icy cold snow. It was pure instinct when he stood and a wave of magic and snow shot from Forest straight at Justin and Leo.

Snow flared up in a brilliant cloud of white, blocking out the overcast sky and the view of the crooked branches and sparks of orange tinted light through the trees. Forest only had a moment to wince when he realized he had created an actual wall of snow, seconds before it all came crashing down right in the spot where Leo barreled into Justin’s slender form.

Forest peeked through his fingers, having at some point covered his face at the sound of flesh slamming into flesh. He stared with growing alarm as Justin and Leo’s fallen forms were covered in heavy clumps of snow and buried in a giant mound of snow. “Shit. Shit, don’t be dead.”

Forest shot forward and frantically began digging into the heavy pile of snow. Glittering dust stung at his face, eyes, and nose, and coated every inch of him in an icy powder that was threatening to choke him and freeze his lungs. Forest didn’t feel the cold on his numb fingers as he clawed through handfuls of wet snow and pushed piles aside. The fabric of Justin’s blue jacket peeked through the heavy snow, and Forest swore and patted around the area as he sought his friend’s face.

“Breathe,” Forest ordered the moment he found a few strands of Justin’s brown hair and pushed the snow from his face. “Breathe and be fucking normal, man.”

“What?” Justin blinked his snow crusted lashes open with an effort and revealed his human, gentle brown eyes. He stared at Forest for a few bleary moments, then his gaze strayed to the blue tinted snow he was practically encased in. Justin’s eyebrows drew down the center as he fixed back on Forest’s concerned gaze. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Nothing happened,” Forest said quickly. “You’re fine and nothing happened.” He could see the panic growing in Justin’s eyes. In moments Justin’s breathing was shallow and his chest heaving as he was hit with the understanding his wolf had taken over.

“What did I…?” Justin pushed at the snow covering his chest, only to start at the streaks of red revealed in the snow. He lifted his hand up and stared wide eyed at his bloodied fingers. “Forest? W-what… What did I do?”

Forest inwardly groaned. “He’s fine, I swear. You’re fine. Justin, please, just focus on me, okay?” Forest leaned over Justin until he was all he could see. “It’s going to be fine, I promise.”

But it wasn’t fine. Forest could see it in Justin’s eyes as tears welled in the brown depths just as great as his panic. It had to be a full loss of memory. Justin always freaked out the most when he found gaps in his memory, even the smallest of moments. In those dark lapses he imagined the very worst his cursed wolf might do without anyone to stop him. Being covered in blood was only going to affirm that when he lost control, others were in danger.

Leo’s hand shot out from the pile of snow next to them, covered in slush, and both Forest and Justin yelped in surprise.

“Shit, I totally forgot,” Forest muttered, mortified he had left Leo to freeze in the pile of snow. It was too many crises at once, and Forest absolutely defined Justin freaking out after a ‘crazy werewolf slip’ as a crisis.

“Who is it?” Justin whispered, fear clear in his eyes as he stared at the hand clawing to get free of the snow.

“Hold on, big guy.” Forest scrambled in the slush, his jeans quickly soaked as he leaned over and sought out Leo in the pile of snow. He could only hope the overgrown lion shifter had also come to his senses with all the snow to cover Raider’s scent. Forest started pushing the snow aside, and his eyes went wide when the snow beneath him rocked in an alarming lurch. “Shit.” He fell back, just getting his legs cleared, when Leo pushed up and big chunks of snow fell from his shoulders in heavy clumps.

Forest swallowed hard as he tried to read the flashes of emotions that twisted at Leo’s fierce, bloody features as the lion shifter fought his way out of the avalanche. Dressed only in jeans, Leo pulled himself up with pure strength and then sat on top of the mound of snow and panted for breath. His tawny eyes focused on Justin’s pale face where the werewolf was still half buried.

“I fucked up,” Leo announced.

“What?” Justin gaped at Leo and focused on the four vertical slashes cut into his face. Justin’s expression crumpled and he struggled to get out of the snow. “Oh, no. Did I…?”

“I attacked you,” Leo said gruffly. “I lost my shit when hunting that deer, and your wolf woke up to defend you.” His eyes were sharp as he stared down at Justin’s panicked face. “You were protecting yourself, that’s all.”

“I was?” Justin blinked a few times as he tried to absorb the new information. His gaze fixed back on Leo’s bloody face, and a hot tear ran down Justin’s cheek. “Your face… I’m so sorry, Leo!”

Leo grunted and shrugged aloofly. “It’s nothing that can’t be healed.” His gaze darted to where Raider was huddle in the snow out of Justin’s sight. He fixed back on Justin and forced an awkward smile. “It’s kind of hard to see like this, you know, with the blood in my eyes. Could you help me back to the Academy?”

“Of course!” Justin pushed at the snow covering him with a determined, damn near desperate expression. “We’ll go right now. I’ll carry you if I have to.” He wiggled his hips to loosen the heavy snow and punched at the edges to create space to pull himself free. After a few kicks, Justin managed to twist and pull out of the mound of snow. He balanced precariously at the top of the pile and reached for Leo’s hand to help him to his feet.

“Do you want to lean on me?” Justin asked, blind to just how far Leo would have to bend over if he took him up on the offer.

“Nah.” Leo grimly scrubbed his palm down his face and roughly wiped the excess blood off. “I just need you to make sure I don’t go wandering into a tree or some shit.” Leo tried to smile to soften the words, but with the wicked slashes on his face and the blood that had gotten on his teeth, the effect was garish.

Justin smiled hesitantly and released a somewhat hysterical laugh. “Okay. I can do that!” he said too boisterously as he scrambled to get down the snow pile.

Forest breathed a heavy sigh of relief as Justin tried to help the towering Leo down the side of the slope. Leo had only just started to make an effort when it came to Justin’s sensitivity to his curse, and it was kind of a shock the lion shifter was able to put aside his current anger to do so now. Leo wasn’t exactly known for being nice. Most of the time he was an overbearing dick.

“What?” Leo grunted when he caught Forest staring at him with an odd expression on his face.

Forest smirked and shrugged. “Just thinking maybe you should have your face slashed more often. You’re almost being nice.”

“Fuck off, dickwad.” Leo flipped Forest off and stomped his feet into the unstable pile of snow to keep from falling as he made his way down.

Snorting to himself, Forest eyes fixed on the patch of bloody snow where Leo had pulled free. It had been a close call and he wasn’t in a hurry to see it happen again. The sooner they got Justin to the safety of the Academy, the better.

Forest tumbled intentionally down the side of the snow pile and landed on his hands and knees. He pushed up from the ground and brushed the snow from his pant legs. He didn’t realize his movements had caught Justin’s attention until his voice rang out in the growing chill.

“Um, guys, who is that?”

“Crap,” Leo hissed.

“Shit.” On glance at Justin’s wide eyed look of horror confirmed the dread twisting in Forest’s stomach. “It’s just the new guy, Raider. He saw you fighting, that’s all…” Forest fell silent as he turned and found Dante standing over where Raider was hunched over in the snow. There was a strange look on Dante’s face, one that grew when he suddenly swooped down and kissed Raider on the lips.

Forest gaped, at a complete loss for words as to what he was witnessing. With a fierce shake of his head, Forest recovered enough to grab a handful of snow and chuck it at Dante. “Hey! What the hell are you thinking?”

Forest stalked surefooted over the ice and stopped to loom over Dante, who was still kissing Raider. He grabbed the boy by his too long scarf and pulled him away. “What the…?” Blood was smeared on Dante’s lips, which the boy was quick to lick away while staring at Raider.

Raider touched his lower lip gingerly around the cut that had been nipped there. His dark eyes were full of confusion when he finally looked up at the two of them. “Are you a vampire?” he croaked.

“For fuck sake.” Forest covered his sleeve over his mouth to avoid breathing in Raider scent. “Why the hell did you do that?” he demanded of Dante, who was blithely brushing the snow from his knees.

“Everyone else kissed him. I just wanted to see why.” Dante shrugged off Forest’s angry glare and turned to where Leo and Justin were gaping at him. “Are we going back now? I want to play with Wylie.”

Forest closed his eyes and tried to take a steadying breath. “Yeah, sure. We’re going back right now.”

“Achoo!”

There was a collective gasp, and Forest grimaced. He refused to open his eyes. If he didn’t open them, there was no way things could possible get worse.

“Oh shit.” Raider whispered. “Fuck no.”

Forest cracked an eye open, then immediately opened the other. His jaw fell open and for the life of him, he couldn’t bring himself to shut it. “Did you just…? Fuck, you did.” Forest continued to gape as all proper words escaped him.

On the top of Raider’s head now twitched very large, very furry raccoon ears. If that wasn’t bad enough, his darkly tanned skin had gained a new black coloration around his eyes and fingers reminiscent to the pattern of his inner animal. Raider looked up, a desperate expression on his masked face as he stared at his clawed hands. Behind him on the snow covered ground, a long, fluffy tail ringed with black stripes flicked back and forth in agitation.

“Well fuck,” Forest finally blurted, his cheeks turning red. “You have the flu.”

This Week’s MM Goodies

$0.99 Taken By Beasts: A M/M Erotic Halloween Collection

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

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

 

The Same Page

Aidan Greene and Liam McCullough feel like they’ve aged out of the bodyguard business—but a desperate call from former client Slava Vishinev draws them back. In a story ripped from the headlines, Slava’s gay son Arseny has vanished in Chechnya, where homosexuals are persecuted and imprisoned.

What was Arseny doing in Chechnya, and who is the enigmatic Italian who ends up in police custody with him? Answering these questions will take Aidan and Liam on their most deadly adventure yet, deep into the heart of a war-torn former Soviet state where danger lurks around every corner.

The stakes are high – innocent men depend on them for rescue from imprisonment and death. Will Aidan and Liam be able to rescue Arseny and help him carry out his plans—and make it back to Nice for their wedding?

 

$0.99 Operation Makeover

Will a makeover bring his fantasy to life or lead him to a love he never saw coming?

As a professional X-ray tech, Ridley has come a long way from the geeky kid Jace took under his wing in high school. Not that his best friend has noticed. Tired of pining, Ridley decides to show Jace what he’s missing. And what better way than with a newer, more sophisticated look?

Cole’s clients at the salon where he works love him dearly. Men? Not so much. He has dated one mistake after the next, and he’s beginning to wonder if a guy exists who can handle his fabulousness. Then Ridley lands in his chair.

Cole agrees to be Ridley’s makeover guru, and they click effortlessly. But when Cole offers to help Ridley with his sexual confidence, passion flares and boundaries blur.

Ridley’s had his heart set on Jace a long time, but when he’s with Cole it feels too real to deny. Now he has a choice to make: the friend he’s always wanted or the man who’s given him a whole new lease on life.

💋Dark Fantasies For Abuse Survivors And A Ton Of Rainbows🌈

Hey babes,

So the boyfriend and I are on the road this weekend for out 8 year anniversary. I was super excited cuz it’s the first time in years I got to celebrate our anniversary while healthy. So, naturally, I sneezed the morning of our big trip while still in bed, and my back seized up. Motherfuck. XD But I don’t care. Life is short (much shorter than first anticipated) and I threw my little back support thing on and we went out despite the pain cuz I want to enjoy now.

We ended up checking out the Norman Rockwell museum cuz it was on the way and we both love art. I have to say, I’m particularly jealous of Rockwell’s studio. Having so much room in such a peaceful area to be able to create feels like a dream come true I’m never going to reach. We then drove to Burlington, Vermont to see the last night of the fabulously funny, Jen Kirkman. I love intelligent humor and she was this wonderful mix of quirky eccentric and damn brilliant.

The view was spectacular on the drive. Saw so many rainbows (seriously, double rainbow!) along with the beautiful leaves turning. And one disgusting, giant confederate flag that was a stark reminder even now, even how far we have come, hate is still breeding and festering in the most beautiful of locations.

 

How To Help The World…

I wrote a blog post this week as something constructive and positive after all the damn pain of the Kavanaugh bullshit. I hope you find the time to read it during the week. I go into things that I haven’t shared with most readers before, things I only recently learned about my past. But I knew for a very long time this was a truth for many families, in many different walks of life, and it’s been hiding beneath the surface tearing people apart.

It’s only been recently women have been allowed to talk about sex. It’s only been recently we’ve gained financial independence through bank accounts, credit cards, employment, birth control, equality laws, and voting. We don’t have to wear the ‘dress code’ of a dress for the female gender, but you’ll see, when a man wears this perceived dress code he faces humiliation because to be a woman is still to be lesser in the eyes of society. Women still don’t have equal pay, we don’t have equal representation, and we don’t have our voices taken seriously even now–and this is just in America. Reason is not what drives this world, but instead those little pockets of repression, hate, fear, and I want to help tear the darkness away and reveal our monsters for what they are. Human.

I think the world needs this. I know I needed it. Fear isn’t just the mind killer, it is the nonlife. When we reject our bodies and our sexuality, we reject our very lives. We have suffered too long like this, and now it the perfect time to change it and heal. I want to see #metoo mean more than just a battle cry of the traumatized, but an actual step in changing these common, hidden, and far too many times justified atrocities.

You can read about it here; Dark Fantasies For Abuse Survivors
 

This Week’s MM Goodies

$0.99 Dead In The Garden

Join bestselling author Dahlia Donovan on a cosy mystery adventure in Grasmere Cottage Mystery book one. With love, wit, and a murder to solve, life for Valor and Bishan is about to get bloomin’ complicated in this sweet gay romance.

Dead body in the garden? Check.

Mystery to solve? Check.

Police focused on the wrong person? Not good.

All grown up and graduated, Valor Tarquin Scott, son to Earl and Countess Scott, owns The Ginger’s Bread, a biscuit shop, in Grasmere in the Lake District. The love of his life, Bishan Tamboli, has turned his music studies into a successful career playing with the London Symphony Orchestra. It’s a perfect life with their cat, spending evenings watching Poirot on the television.

The nightmare begins with one dead former schoolmate, leading police to believe Bishan is responsible.

Valor struggles to solve the cryptic puzzles left behind in a race to prove Bishan’s innocence.

He can’t help wondering how far the body count will rise before they manage to stop the killer.

Buyer’s Remorse

Will love persevere when the truth comes out?

LEE
I changed my name, but I can’t change what I did. My brothers died, and I spent three years in witness protection. Returning to Fields, where I once hid out, feels right. Seeing Miguel again feels even better. But when a dead body interrupts my tour of a building for sale, my start isn’t as fresh as I’d like.

MIGUEL
I’ve been trying to curb my habit of leaping into bad relationships, but when Lee comes back to town, he’s hard to resist. Kids are dying, and life’s too short to shy away from a good thing. But will Lee’s mysterious past come back to bite me?

Between police questioning and trials of trust, it’s far from smooth sailing. If we don’t figure out who’s selling synthetic drugs and convince the police Lee is not their man, we may all have a severe case of buyer’s remorse.

The Heights

Twenty-one years ago, a four-year old child was kidnapped from his front yard. He was never found. Until now.

All Nat Walker wants is to make his late father’s dream of running a father/son woodworking shop come true. And he had the perfect building in mind—until the new guy in town came in and bought the place right out from under him. The fact that the new guy is adorable means nothing. For all Nat cares, he can take his new dance studio and waltz back to New York City.

Professional dancer Quinn Carroll couldn’t be happier that he made the move to the small town of Lakeshore, Oregon. Sure, it’s not New York, but now he’ll be living closer to his adoptive brother. And since his studio will be the only one in the area, he should get enough business to keep him busy. Besides, there’s something about this place that seems familiar…

He doesn’t expect to fall hard for the local, grumpy woodworker who won’t even smile at him.

Or find out that his entire life is a lie.

Last Chance To Snag Hellcat For $0.99!

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.

 

😡Are You Freaking Kidding Me, America?😡

Hey babes,

I am so fucking angry. Beyond. I am hurt, disgusted, pained—this Kavanaugh confirmation is a pain in my soul and psyche that has no fucking limit. I wasn’t even going to do a newsletter this week, I’m so upset by this all, but Wendy has her newest book out, and it’s fabulous, and fuck, let there be some damn good in the world right now when there is so much injustice.

The Imposter King

Their love made them close. Their secret kept them closer.

Dare and Prince Malory are happily married and in love, but the secret of Dare’s true identity as a mere servant threatens their romantic bliss.

Messages to the king of Brookfall go unanswered, and rumors of war unsettle both kingdoms. Until one day heralds arrive with bags of gold to ransom Dare and demand his return to Brookfall.

King Millard, Prince Malory’s father, orders Dare to make the journey to see his father. But Dare is not the true heir, and if they meet, the secret he and Mal have been guarding will be revealed. Also, impersonating a royal means a death penalty offense. Worse, it could mean all-out war between their countries.

Panic. Despair. Lovers torn asunder. Personal sacrifice. More dark secrets revealed. An ending that will leave you breathless.

 

 

 

They chose one privileged man over all the women of this country. They chose one man and said he ‘deserved’ the highest seat we have to offer while he sniveled, blatantly lied, cried like a bitch, bullied, dodged, and refused to be honest. They claimed he would ‘bridge the partisan gap’ when his hearing created one of the biggest fucking divides in this country. They gave him a gift, a gift they had no right to give after holding that seat hostage for over a year, while saying fuck you to abuse victims everywhere.

Fuck this country. Fuck this administration. Fuck what the Republican party has turned into. If there is a true conservative left of sound mind and free of insane, religious and hateful ideology in America, I don’t fucking see them. Many of them don’t even understand their entire party has been taken over by white nationalists, and they still vote like they’re talking about economics instead of the rights of women, of refugee children kept in cages, of minorities being shot at and jailed, of our entire country being cut off from the global economy and world with a wall of lies and fear and tribalism.

America is racist. It is a country built on the genocide of the Native Americans and the labor of the enslaved Africans (and so many more, it never fucking ended,) and long after a war to end all fucking wars, half this country still refuses to admit that racism was even a problem, never mind it’s STILL a problem. America is racist and yet it manages to be even worse in how sexist it is.

America hates women. We treat them like objects, like pretty pets who can’t think for themselves, like weak, pathetic victims who aren’t allowed to be empowered against their attackers but must wait for their adults—their husbands, their fathers, their grandfathers, their uncles and brothers and priests and statesmen—to speak up for them. And when the time comes and those men fail because they’ve gotten too content with raping their domesticated, trained women who aren’t allowed to decide what consent means because they’re ‘all mixed up,’ America shrugs because women don’t matter here. America blames a woman for daring to speak up. America attacks women for daring to believe a woman instead of an accused assailant. America wants their fucking sandwich made and tells those chicks to go drink wine to unwind from the stresses of being oppressed and never getting an equal fucking paycheck no matter how hard they work.

It’s time for America as we know it to destruct. Let it fucking burn. There is nothing left worth saving when we can have credible testimony of a crime, documented repeated lying over 100 times of the candidate under oath of matters not even pertaining to the accusation, and those in our government still just shrug and go ‘business as usual, give that man a job!’ This is not a democracy, and what it takes to build America back into one involves tearing this rotting corpse down. These senior citizens who lived when women weren’t even allowed to have fucking credit cards need to get the fuck out of office.

We could have learned but the impulse was too great to oppress those uppity women once again. Have your own babies. Try and birth a male when all women close their legs and say we’ll only birth girls. Fucking see what gender inequality looks like then.

Fuck this day and fuck this country. Vote blue November, and make sure it’s progressive because those established democrats are just as bought.

🔐Hacked, Patched, And Looking To Escape🔐

Hey babes,

Insane week. I’m not just talking about the Kavanaugh hearings—which, my fuck, I still don’t expect any sort of justice or vindication to come forth after the long history of rich, white male privilege. I want to have hope but common sense is wasted in this country when it comes to government and business. Common sense, basic logic, empathy, human emotions, scientific fact, any base level of decency; it’s all foreign to these people. But yeah, still I hope.

The guy is a blatant liar. Every word out of his mouth. That is the problem with credibility; I can’t believe him because he lies again and again. Once you surround yourself in lies, it’s impossible to pull yourself out. You’re not owed a seat on the Supreme Court, so stop lying like a dumb fuck and try to show some fucking empathy already.

Sorry, this shit has been upsetting. I didn’t realize that America would be facing one of the biggest ethical cases of the history of the damn country this week. It’s been intense, and I’m sure triggering for many. There was a reason all those women protested worldwide when Trump was elected. Some people thought it was because Hillary didn’t win, because of the blatant unfairness. The truth of the matter was a known repeated rapist and sexual assailant, (one known victim a minor,) was elected into the highest office of this country by the electoral college, and politicians once again said rape doesn’t matter. Women don’t matter. Power over a female’s body still belongs to rich, out of touch senior citizens running this country.

Women are fucking angry about it. We all should be.

Hacked

Anyways, something got into the website. It was caught immediately by my hosting company, and after a little work, it’s all cleaned up. To be clear, I don’t store any customer financial information on my website. I designed it that way from the very beginning cuz I didn’t want to worry about exactly this. What is stored are emails and whatever name you may have signed up with, so if you used a nickname/alias on the site and find it being used as a greeting in an email to phish your info, yeah, that could potentially be from my site. There isn’t actually any indication that information was taken, but I just want to be upfront about it all just in case.

I’ve increased security, found the exploit used to get into the site and updated/patched. Restored a later version of the database so apologies for the comments lost. I guess it was a known issue with the software so the company had a patch ready. Recoded most of the website just to ensure potentials would no longer be potential. Uh, oh, and I got rid of all the free members—all the free stuff is no longer behind a login. I just added a disclaimer, cuz really, there were too many 1 time logins and I guess people just weren’t bothering to find the email with the password they set. @[email protected] Make shit easy for everyone.

But, in cleaning up the member list, I might have accidentally deleted expired users who weren’t actually expired. The subscription software does this thing where it doesn’t update the expiration date if you let the membership expire and then pay later—it’s been an issue from the beginning and very frustrating to catch it happening. So if you’re a member and you can’t login, contact me immediately! That shit can be fixed in seconds. I just verify with Paypal and it’s done. Do not be quiet about this cuz the guilt will fucking kill me. (Don’t kill me. Don’t be that douche. Speak up! XD)

I need an escape

So I left the ER where I spent Saturday with an antibiotic for an infected tooth. I should have gotten the fucking thing pulled the first time around, but I was just enjoying life too much and cockily assuming it wouldn’t hit again. >_< I’ve learned. My fuck, the pain of the last few days. The mold has been killing me. The tooth inflames and screams in pain every time I breathe the wrong thing in. I’ve been living with ice in my mouth and pressed on my neck to keep the swelling down. What a mess. I finally got some sleep wrapped up in the car (got this amazing blanket that doesn’t set me off like the others ones do. What a relief.)

I think after this very stressful half of week of coding like a mofo, I’m going to find a good, sexy book to read for Sunday, and hopefully solve this pain thing. I’m grateful it hasn’t gotten as bad to have the multiple chemical sensitivity come back, but yeah, I’m scared that’s where it’s leading. =_= But hey, I finally slept during the night instead of day, so win?

With that in mind, a plethora of sexy books. I’m sure something on this list will help me hide for a day or two.

Of Princes False and True

A tennis match? Starting a war between the Duchy of Avann and the Kingdom of the Westlands?

Only in a fairy tale.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nothing But Trouble

Adrian would be the first to admit that his life has been filled with trouble…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Honey From The Lion

​Soulmates across time. A love that was meant to be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Remember Tomorrow

When artificial memories are everywhere, how can you tell what’s real?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Greyson Fox

Greyson Fox, the man, the myth, the legend. The highly sought after, self-proclaimed permanent bachelor. Or so the rumor mill goes…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No Way Out

It’s April of 1816 in Another England. And Jeremy—a whore from the Dock—is living in a guest bedroom in the London home of the (in)famous Iron Marquess, with over fifteen days missing from his life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

$0.99 Mated To The Demon Prince

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

⌛Musings of Mortality, Suffering, and Mercy⏳

Hey, babes

I find myself in mourning. Unexpectedly. The digital age has created this ability to connect with others from so far away. We can meet a person yet never meet them. Know a person and never share their day. Realize only a month after his 30th birthday, you’re never going to hear from him again.

I’m going to be talking about some heavy stuff today, and it’s totally up to you if you want to read it. Sorry I haven’t been posting free and cheap reads lately. The return of the mold has made simple shit feel difficult, and I’m trying to keep most of my focus on writing. I will get back into the swing of it all eventually, promise. I think the weather going cold again is helping. I’ve been updating The Paranormal Academy For Troubled Boys pretty consistently this month (outside of when the mold first jumped me,) and I’m happy it’s flowing so well.

So, yeah. No matter how heavy the stuff is below, it’s important to remember thoughts aren’t reality, and I am very happy living no matter the circumstances. I go into suffering, suicide, and transformation today. I find it to be cathartic at a time like this for me and want to share that, but it’s important to know others don’t find comfort but more pain when bringing up these subjects. I get it and it’s okay.

Mortality

There aren’t a lot of people who can hold a conversation with me. Even fewer who can look past my strong opinions, blunt nature, and very rough angles for long. Online, I talk about topics that offend most people, in a manner that also offends, and few dare to jump in to discuss. Wade Hartley was one of those rare gems who jumped in, and damn, how sad it is to lose him.


I think it was because of those touchy, combustible topics that I felt so close to him, because it required such raw honesty and a total lack of shields to get through. You can’t challenge the established disorder and have your sense of identity get in the way. It requires a stripping of all those trappings to really sink into a concept and try to suss it out. It’s easy to feel bruised in conversations like that, like you’re battling instead of exploring, being pushed down instead of someone just trying to understand a new concept. I don’t know if you realize it, but there are a lot of people arguing on the Internet while others assumed they were having conversations. Jumping into such a potentially volatile atmosphere while promising to not make it about the bruises you feel to your ego takes a bravery few have.

Most people passed us by with scornful anger and mumbles of rules and morality, terrified to even glance into that part of their mind. It required a fearlessness, as does facing death and shaking hands.

Talking with Wade was a freedom few people can offer, a lack of judgment and a way to learn to stop judging, stop expecting, and just accept. And that is the ultimate kindness Wade’s memory has given me. I can accept his choice even if I don’t agree with it, the same way we accepted each other’s strong opinions even though we didn’t always share them. I still battle what will be while he embraced it on his terms. And yes, even though I feel sorrow, I’m also joyful he found whatever level of acceptance he needed to release himself from the torture of existence.

We want life to be sacred, to mean something, to be valuable and counted even as it’s a mere blip in the eternal void of the universe. When we raise life up on some sacred altar, we lose sight of the actual living. Life is mundane, concrete, simple pleasures mixed with daily work and sometimes deep thoughts that feel bigger than reality. Our minds know no bounds even when our bodies find limitation after limitation. It takes a certain bravery to expand your mind so freely, to be giant inside a contained, fragile shell while the mere concept of mortality can push the strongest mind toward insanity. And in all minds there can be a depth of pain and suffering that feels limitless and without end.

While so many slipped away, unable to see the pain and agony of life as I experienced it battling mortality, PTSD, mold toxicity, and an existence where fairness is merely a concept, Wade didn’t look away. And that really should have been knowledge enough, because most shy from brutal reality while the ones who have suffered long enough see and accept and understand. They see the beautiful humanity within and reach, unafraid to fall into the darkness of despair. They have lived there too and offer comfort in companionship.

That is all we have for each other: each other. There are no answers, though always many questions. But when there is that darkness and despair, there is at least another—many others—out there who know, who feel, and somehow it is a little easier.

Mourning

As sentient, self aware beings who fear the inevitable end, we cling to the memory of how we perceive the people around us. This is the honoring we have for those brave souls we meet as we go forward another day. There is a hope to preserve that beautiful light snuffed out that makes us less alone in this arduous journey. We offer immortality of a person in our minds while our bodies continue to exist in this concrete world alone, aging, deteriorating, counting down to an end we must all face but few can dare to look at and see and embrace. We choose if we feel sorrow so deep to drown in, or love and compassion every time we touch upon the memory of a person. We choose to feel, to react, and be changed by those memories instead of still and unmoved by the intangible.

Many battle with reality, deny it because when you cannot change the concrete you feel empowered to at least deny what is. But there are the rare, the brave who will accept, and love with great gratitude what is, and release the suffering others cling to. When we can accept that suffering isn’t required to live, perhaps as a society we might learn to finally live without suffering instead of seeking to escape such pain at all costs. That is my hope for all and where my sorrow lies when I remember Wade.

I wish he could have lived without suffering, but at the same time, it was his suffering that allowed him to reach out and connect with others who were otherwise overlooked and discarded. I see those who suffer, and they desire to be seen, known, valued for who they are and not for the circumstances that distort them. Inside, we are all worthy, and what a cruelness of our insane minds to ever consider otherwise. Wade and I might have never recognized each other if not for a familiar pain, so even in suffering there is gratitude and acceptance and a little less loneliness.

We can choose to be unmoved or we can reach out and connect, seeking that lifespark and base understanding no matter how imperfect the playing field and events of life may be. We can have the bravery to be known and to find others who accept us even when some struggle to accept who they themselves are. It is a gift for the brave who endure the cruel, careless imperfections of life and dare to let their shields fall away anyways. We have learned nothing can ever hurt us more than how we hurt ourselves in our minds.

Suffering

There is a theme in my writing you may have noticed. Suffering leads to transformation. It is a belief I’ve held for a lifetime before I could even truly perceive or voice it.

I don’t talk about my past suffering much—you hear terms from me like mold toxicity or pain or disability or brain fog, but I don’t really call it suffering because on that level, it is not. Depression is such a meaningless word to me. As someone who had it for over 10 years straight, I never recognized depression on those television commercials selling antidepressants. Feeling ‘blue,’ or just tired, down, unsocial. I had depression during a time in my life when I didn’t even know the word depression, and it wasn’t blue; it was insanity. Agitated depression. Anxiety. PTSD. Symptoms confused for bipolar with ups and downs, but never really ups, just fresh energy and an amazing level of disassociation. Life was behind a veil, a veil that could never lift. A death shroud that colored everything, and although I could tell it was there, distorting life, no amount of fighting with it ever really set me free.

When I was living in my adoptive family’s house from the age of 13, to around the age of 26 when I finally left that place, I was in severe, debilitating mental anguish. It was something that grew worse and worse the more the years passed. It turned out to be sourced in the mold that had taken over the basement my bedroom was located in from water flooding in every season, and beneath that, untreated PTSD from a trauma that happened at the age of 3. How I knew reality wasn’t by mold or clinical terms, but by insanity, and despair, and a certainty that death surely would be a better way to exist than to continue as I was.

It was all I knew for years. No one could help me. My days were spent existing for others, watching the ones I loved the most dying while pretending I was human outside that house. During high school I cared for my mother, who eventually died of cancer soon after I graduated. Then there was college, which I left when my father got dementia and eventually died of kidney failure. After that I found the household I was in suddenly abusive, dangerous, filled with the trash of a hoarder and someone with a violent temper and I didn’t know how to escape. No one could understand what was happening in my head—I could barely express the torment, the decay of norms and joy and life I could only remember. I was too broken to help myself outside of coping every day by creating art and trying to bring some order to these very broken adults around me. It was my normal until some form of self preservation kicked in enough and I got the fuck out and started living life for myself.

When you hear about the last, what, seven? years of my life when I started writing in my previous apartment, where I was bed bound from the mold toxicity, not knowing the source, certain death was coming because of the inability to move, the Parkinson symptoms, the brain confusion and damage, the insomnia mixed with absolute exhaustion, those years were so different compared to my years suffering in my first house. The pain was less, the distress was less, the wish to die wasn’t there. It was like being a victim of torture only to find myself being slowly suffocated this time around. Even though it was a fresh hell, I was not alone. I understood the mental anguish, sank into the realization it wasn’t forever, and I was surrounded by loved ones who understood it too.

The main difference was, I wasn’t depressed. I don’t know if depression is ‘blue’ for other people. I don’t know if what I felt was unique. All I know is a doctor diagnosed what I was going through back then as chronic depression and agitated depression, and as I knew it to be, it was a festering torment on the mind that changed me into something less than until something even baser awoke in me to break me out.

I survived that first moldy house and the insanity it created in me that I perceived as real. I couldn’t discern being inflicted with a mental illness but that I was a mental illness and nothing more. I survived out of spite, out of instinct, out of a greater fear of death than of pain. I became a creature that had value in creating, and someone who sought value in others, in people and their intriguing psyches, and eventually, I became a human again when I saw that value in me. It was a transformation—one I never sought but had to experience—and it grew me into a being far more empowered and in love with the world and those around me than who I was when I started.

Now when I survive, it’s for that, for others, for understanding, for the belief that the futility of the inevitable should never stop this moment now from being the best it can be. And no, I hold no ill will, no anger, no disdain for anyone who decides to step forward on their own and plummet into the inevitable darkness of death. I understand it too well to ever condemn anyone for such a choice, even though I do feel sorrow to know the suffering they must feel to push them there. I want everyone to find the relief I eventually did find, all those glowing moments that made and continue to make my life worth hanging around for.

Mercy

Who are we to decide the form? I don’t know if there is a more beautiful concept than the ending of suffering: a mercy, a forgiveness, a release. But that mercy can’t happen without suffering to occur first. We cannot be saved without being lost. Sometimes the most wonderful kindnesses can only exist because of the worst of conflicts.

Ego death was my most recent mercy, and I truly believe I will never suffer the way I ever did in the past because of it. Even the extreme pain in my body and brain these last months fighting the sudden infestation of mold in the house we’re renting and living out of my car was not a suffering, but a clean pain of life without the emotional torment and torture and rot that can occur when I lose track of reality and get caged in my mind. The cage isn’t there anymore, just forgiveness and understanding, and a very bad habit of thought pattern to want that cage to hide in.

Learning to let go of suffering is the greatest gift you can give yourself. I don’t know if it’s something that can be taught, but fuck, I truly hope it is. In the end it’s a journey a person takes on their own, but guides are there to point the way. We remain. Not all of us, but we remain and are replaced because this is not unique. This is humanity the only way I have every known it to be. We suffer and transform and we live on the brink of inevitable.

It’s okay to be who you are, babes. It’s okay to hurt, and it’s okay to let the hurt go. It’s okay to not be alone anymore and to learn to love yourself. There is no wrong in how you choose to live, but there can be great rewards when you do seek to live your life in bravery and accept those bruises as they come. It’s worth it to meet someone new, or someone strangely familiar, to learn what can be learned, and find a little more truth inside.

It’s okay to despair and know you weren’t the first, and you won’t be the last, and nothing will ever be forever. The mortality of all living forms can be just as merciful as the eternity we can experience in our sweetest thoughts.

It’s okay to be okay. I promise. You still remain even when the suffering is gone.