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Looking To Untether

Hey babes!

So this has been a damn fine month for me. I mean, well, ignore the bullshit, the pain, the chemical sensitivity, Candida overgrowth, and the mold—which we realized is what’s killing me in the house. It’s mold. We’re treating it with tea tree oil, and hopefully that’s going to fix this shit. It must have come in on the bed frame because the moment we brought it to the curb and left it to be picked up, the rain hit it and mold sprouted all over.

Anyways, the good stuff—the fucking amazing stuff. What did I learn from living out of my car? Home is where I am. My confidence, my belonging, my acceptance of life; that all comes with me. And, on the flip side, my bullshit can come with me too because, hey, that never needed a building to contain it. I have been amazingly okay with myself lately and it feels great. No anxiety, no feeling like I’m faking through life or don’t belong places. You know what I was thinking the other day when wondering if I should go into a restaurant to use their bathroom? It wasn’t the old line of I should pay to buy something so I’m not being a total tool by using the bathroom. No, I was thinking why the fuck aren’t there public bathrooms everywhere, especially since if you’re caught going to the bathroom outside, you can be charged for a sex crime? (No joke, it’s a thing in America.) Seriously, why should anyone in this modern day ever have to wonder if they’ll be able to use a bathroom? What kind of society is this that people are made to feel guilty for needing a restroom when our basic biology requires it?

I have stopped giving a fuck about a lot of things I didn’t notice used to plague my thoughts and define what I’d do. I used to have this constant thing in my mind that I’m supposed to be somewhere, and only when I’m there (usually hidden away at home) can I feel safe. And if I’m not somewhere I’m supposed to be, clearly I can’t be safe. Life without PTSD is so fucking amazing, and it’s just been great to have this opportunity to finally challenge those old emotional softwares by living out of the car. I wouldn’t have known if this didn’t happen. I would have been content to just hide away in my room working, when now I realize depending on where I drive, I can have whatever view I want when I’m working. Trees, fields, other cars, a lovely sky day, whatever. This cute little hummingbird who showed up at the community garden I was hanging out at…

So freaking tiny! <3

It reminds me of how I want to write a nonfiction book about hacking your own brain. That’s basically what I did to get past PTSD and what people need to do to get past the brainwashing they’ve endured. And it’s not unique—every culture, every family, every society does it from sports teams to politics to religion. One moment of trauma can be used to justify a million horrendous acts afterward because that’s the way the human brain has evolved. Some people, they break free, they see past the bullshit, while others are happy to live in the cage of their own mind while being exploited by every salesman who comes their way.

It pisses me off, really. Seeing intelligent, compassionate people being preyed upon because of their own basic wiring. I read a lot about marketing, and I study it at work, especially in the book industry. I follow probably more newsletters about marketing than I do about actual fiction writers because the human brain fascinates me. Just to be clear, I do not actually apply these strategies. (I’m actually the asshole who points out to people how they shouldn’t buy into the sales pitch, stop being a fucktard, and a free book isn’t an obligation for anything.) Why? For one, because I assume something so basic shouldn’t work. It wouldn’t work on me so why the fuck would it work on anyone else? But really, shit doesn’t work on me because I walk the spiderweb threads while other people float blissfully into the web, which is the real reason I don’t do this shit. Compassion. I feel for the people being exploited and I think those doing the exploiting are pretty damn scummy.

Some quick examples how you as a reader have your wiring exploited and don’t even realize it. That thing I mentioned about giving away a free book? Some people are wired in a way that they feel so guilty, they want to go buy the book afterward, or if not that, they need to leave a review. Sure, it’s nice when people do, but some people aren’t reviewing because they want to, but because they feel like they owe the person who gave something away. It’s free but they feel like there are strings attached demanding they act. Another example, pretty similar, I’ve had half a dozen reviewers come to me pleading to be able to stay on my ARC team for fear I’ll kick them off. You know, like the free and generous service they provide to help let other readers know that they might like my book is actually a job they can be fired from and they are so full of anxiety for fear of being punished. There is absolutely nothing I have done to train this in some people—although after a few conversations, I’ve learned other authors are traumatizing the fuck out of these people to make them believe this twisted mentality. Reviewers, you are not obligated to do fuck, and don’t let anyone ever make you feel like reviewing is a job and they are owed a review. Seriously, fuck those kinds of authors. How dare they exploit your natural compassion that way. I hate that shit.

It’s easy to look at a person and know what they want. It’s easy to find that dream and exploit the fuck out of it and just lie. And fuck, it’s easy to sound like an authority while doing it—Do you know how weak minded people are that you can just call yourself a doctor or say you have a degree on something, and people just believe you? Dear fuck if they have an actual uniform. People are so blind they just believe. It’s crazy. Go off to be killed for the government while the people with money who start and benefit from the wars never serve their country and won’t even provide for the body bag? Yeah, support our troops! I don’t understand why so many people buy into what is so obvious a bunch of systems that exist to exploit the fuck out of them. Money—those meaningless numbers in an account or scraps of paper—you think that has actual value when a simple computer error can decide if someone is a millionaire or homeless? How many people go to the fucking grave paying off credit card debt because someone convinced them that borrowing worthless numbers meant they should be in debt to the seller of worthless numbers for the rest of their entire life? It’s insane.

I’m watching these people do it in the writing community because that is my focus of interest as of late. Mostly nonfiction, but it’s directed at writers, at authors who want to make it big—or just be noticed for what they do. These dicks promise the dream, when anyone who has actually taken this journey knows the dream isn’t the answer. Write well and be a millionaire writer. You don’t ever have to market again, just be a good writer and you will be a bestseller. Just pay $500 ($700, $1000!) for this joke course so you can feel validated you never bothered to learn why certain books become bestsellers and others don’t.

It’s like the weight loss game, right? Lose 20lbs in a week while boosting your metabolism! Eat whatever you want, never be hungry, and watch the pounds melt off! How about a junk food diet? Eat your favorite foods and lose more weight than ever before!

Anyone with half a brain can see it’s bullshit, but people gleefully run full speed at this shit and it’s just infuriating to watch. Do you know how many people I talk to who are looking to get help for their PTSD who don’t actually go to therapists who specialize in PTSD? People who never bothered to turn on a computer and google what the most effective and modern treatments of PTSD are. No, they wait for someone to come along and tell them, and if they don’t tell them, well, who’s to blame? Certainly not themselves. They needed an authority.

Oh, that fucking imaginary authority. I went to college and everyone there started out as ignorant as I was. I spent hours in classes being the only one to talk to the teacher but we all got the same piece of paper at the end. Do you really think anything learned in a classroom prepares you for an actual job? You go out and find answers, not assume some random teacher has them. So many people just waiting for the answers to come while doubting their own ability. Bugs the fuck out of me. Cuz that’s really the key. People don’t believe they can ever be smarter than an ‘authority.’ It’s just knowledge, knowledge learned the hard way through having experiences, but some people really believe the degree, the piece of paper is the deciding factor. Why? Because those stupid fucks threw down a shit ton of money to buy that lie, and who knows if they ever actually got the experience that’s needed to really be good at something? How frustrating to watch people hand their decision processes away to those who don’t doubt themselves even if they don’t know shit or don’t have other people’s best interests in heart.

My adoptive mother waited over 8 years for a second opinion when she was certain she had cancer but her doctor said she didn’t. She had breast cancer and because they waited so long to treat it, it got into her bones and eventually killed her. My twin brother took out a student loan of $40,000 for a college that shut down and never refunded his money and he still owes that cash and feels like he’ll forever be in debt working a shitty retail job cuz no college education. My boyfriend is essential at every job he does, is fucking brilliant, but won’t ask for a raise because he believes he should be fired because he never shows up on time. It’s insane. People are fucking insane because they buy into these lies that are so fucking obvious to me but their wiring can’t let them get past it.

I’m a storyteller, but when you’re done reading my books you can walk away and know it’s not real. People tell themselves stories in their heads every fucking day, terrible, cruel, soul crushing stories that keep them from living the life they want, and they can’t walk away. They don’t know they’re telling a story; they think that shit is real. How pointlessly cruel we are to ourselves.

I have a lot of plans this year, babes. I’ve outlined the next Paranormal Academy for Troubled Boys book and I’m working on the following one. I want those 3 written this year, along with the second Hellcat, the Coven Saga from Demon Bonded, and the first Awakening book. But I’m keeping an eye on that brain hacking book, because my fuck, this shit just annoys the fuck out of me. I get it; society has trained this into people to believe they can’t be more and our mental wiring helps enable it. Society has intentionally trained it into people to keep them trapped in shitty jobs (hello retail) underpaid and in huge debt while others just step on their backs and exploit them at every turn. The entire purpose of religion was to control the masses, yet the drones instead bitch about what god really wants from them while they can’t get paid a living wage. I’m so sick of people just rolling over and feeling like they have to play the role of victim. I don’t know if a book can change it, but damn, might as well put the info out there so if anyone has the guts to google, they can find it. Seriously, knowledge is right fucking there.

I don’t know when this turned into a rant… This has been pissing me off the good part of a week, actually. People create so much unhappiness out of total lies and then they can’t escape the lie. It’s just frustrating to watch.

Social Sinners: Behind the Lights

Joey Hayes and his best friend Ricky Branson have been together through the good times, as well as the bad. Attending their first concert as teens set the path for their futures in motion. Shortly after, the pair joined band class where they meet Ethan and Mick and the foursome formed the metal band, Social Sinners.

Things were going according to plan until Lucas Shane entered their lives, disrupting the flow and testing the strength of their friendship.

When Joey spirals down a dark path after catching his cheating boyfriend, this tasked the other three band members with making a difficult decision that could end his career as their lead singer.

 

The Siren’s Lullaby

He rounded the corner, to a small alleyway in the distance. I sped up. When I reached the corner, I saw what that piece of shit was doing. John’s name fell from his lips, as he stroked his small dick with hushed breaths.

Before I knew it, I reached over and smashed his head against the wall. Blood spewed everywhere. There were bits of brain across the ground. I saw the whites in his eyes, as he crumpled to the ground. When I saw his dick again, fully erect, I raised my foot, and smashed it to the ground.

That was my first kill.

 

Game Night: Gay First Time Sports Romance

His Secret Is About To Come Out

Danny is an emerging hockey star who is finally setting the world alight after years of toiling in the second string. But with this new role comes more attention, and it will be harder for him to hide his secret from the world, the fact that he is gay.

It’s a secret he’s kept from all of his teammates and he hates the thought of them finding out the truth. It wouldn’t be an issue, if his best friend hadn’t returned home and found him again. Danny hasn’t seen Matty ever since he left town after graduation. Now he’s back, looking for a place to live and Danny is all too happy to offer him a room.

But Danny has always harbored a crush on Matty. Seeing him again makes it clear that this wasn’t just a teenage dream. Can Danny keep a hold on his feelings? And what will he do when a rival finds out the truth and threatens to end his career?

Max and Pres

Sometimes, the things you don’t want might be exactly what you need.

Pres has been watching Max, Bound in Silk’s bartender, for a while, but he hasn’t really figured out how to approach the sub. He wants to put Max on his knees, see all those muscles rippling, the large man submitting to him… but he has to get Max to play with him first.

Max knows there’s no man who can give him what he wants. Or, at least, he is convinced he won’t find one. Until Pres asks him to play. He’s reluctant, but who wouldn’t be, given his history with Doms?
When Max lets Pres take over, he might discover there is someone who can deal with his needs… and embrace them. But is it enough for a future together?

Demon Bonded Game And A Somewhat Polite Rant

I’ve got great news, babes!

So the big lab test I took came back and it looks like I have bad case of gut dysbiosis. Candida overgrowth, and has likely spread to my ear and jaw. I’ve already seen an alleviation to some of the multiple chemical sensitivity symptoms from a new diet starving the candida, and one I start killing it—going slow cuz the die off can be really damaging to the body and make the MCS so much worse—I will eventually be myself again.

I’m seeing this as the end. This whole thing started with Lyme disease, oh, six years ago now? Found out I was living in mold and that it had caused damage to my body that needed to be repaired, plus the allergies. I’m apparently still living in mold and it has gotten worse with the heavy rain fall this month. Exhaustion, fatigue, confusion, unable to lift my arms and head—all this is finally coming to an end and I can be a person again. These last months will be the hardest because of the neurotoxins that dying candida release and the recovery needed after, but I’m looking at it like the last mile in a marathon. You have to get through the pain to win.

Oh, this test also measured my dopamine levels and I got conclusive numbers that, yeah, my dopamine levels are low. Serotonin too. I knew but there is always this level of self doubt when experimenting on yourself—at least for me. It’s never something to go into all cocky. When everything is filtered through your own brain, it can be very easy to lose perspective. These numbers prove the dopamine link, and it’s a relief.

Writing and Art update

The last two weeks I’ve been cleaning up Shiny Thief (I seriously need to update the damn website. @_@ I have new stuff,) and playing around with a software for making visual novels and interactive novels. Oh, and I’m going to try and remember to get the latest Demon Bonded up on KU this week—totally blanked.

Anyways, I was hemming and hawing on which story I wanted to try for my first test run of a visual novel. Thought I’d start with something new, but it didn’t seem time effective. Then thought I’d jump right into The Demon Virus interactive novel idea, but I thought it might take too much of my attention from Shiny Thief. Then I thought I’d do Taken by Beasts cuz I could do short story by short story—I have a lot of outlines made XD—and then I looked at Demon Bonded, really looked at it, and that’s where I stayed.

It’s already written. When I go to make character and background art, I can reuse that art repeatedly instead of needing to make new stuff like I’d have to do with the 5 short stories in Taken by Beasts, so it’s time effective. And it would allow me to experiment with certain interactive gaming aspects I want to be able to understand in the future, such as creating clickable maps, having affection meters, exploring areas, and getting key items. It also has a following, so I figured there would be more people interested in seeing the story come to life.

So, yeah, that’s where I landed. A Demon Bonded interactive novel. Not the game I have plotted out for the future that has nothing to do with Ky, but for now I’m taking the actual Demon Bonded story and turning it into an interactive experience as a test run. Hopefully people will love it. <3

I’m doing the story boarding first, trying to conceive what I’m really going to need and how to turn each scene into something interactive. My focus is finding ways to have the reader/player have to get tasks done to proceed in the story, such as win the trust of Lovely before he’ll show himself from under the bed. Maybe getting Feral to shred enough clothes before Ky confronts him. Oh, and have things where you have to explore to find hidden art and character cards to collect. I like the idea of puzzles, but nothing too crazy complex… Oh, and I was thinking of a memory game for that part where Ky is trying to write his first circle to keep Demencious from killing them all. I’d like to find a way to figure out character costumes—I mean, I have found a way where I could have other costumes for the demons, even Ky, you can customize, but the coding also limits other aspects, so I’m not 100% certain I want to go that route… But I love the idea of being able to play dress up with them…

It’s a lot of ideas right now, which I love—I love the creative process. It’s so fun. And making the thing is actually really simple, probably because of what I learned just fighting to code a website or making mobis from scratch. If I had known how simple it was to make an interactive novel, I would have attacked it sooner. But this is probably a good time to learn, really. I’m still sick, I’m going to continue to be sick until I can get this candida at manageable levels, and it would be nice to have a constant place to sleep, be able to breathe, etc, before I go too crazy into the final edit of Shiny Thief.

I’m working on the final draft before the betas get it, and I can see how my current lifestyle with the multiple chemical sensitivity keeps my focus from being as good as I’d like. I’m scattered. It’s amazing I get bills paid (everything is late) because I have no consistent point of reference as I run from chemicals and scents at a moment’s notice. I’m a leaf in the wind and it’s difficult to be consistent and remember basic stuff.

Oh, also once I get the first actual working version of the Demon Bonded interactive novel working (where the art is done instead of placeholders) I though that would be a fun giveaway for anyone contributing to my Patreon. I could update the game each time until it’s finally done, and those who have a copy could actually save, even see how shit is made by the builds. I’ve decided on a cell-shaded type of art because of the amount of time that goes into realism, and I suspect once the heat doesn’t suck so much that I can return to my bedless bedroom and use the PC to make art, it won’t be too unbearably hot to make graphics.

White Nationalists are Fucking Cowards

A slightly polite rant about this coming Sunday because maybe I say ‘fuck’ just a little too much. I don’t want people to miss the forest for the trees here, so I’m keeping the language as tame as I feel comfortable.

It you’re in America, brace yourself, babes.

Sunday is the anniversary of the white nationalists taking to the streets with torches in Charlotteville. They’re planning a demonstration in Washington DC, and the counter protesters are already booked. I’m not a fortune teller, but this is the kind of event where you watch a county bleed from the inside and wonder if it will be able to heal after. A lot of Nazi wannabees were doxed last year, and I’m hoping that fear of being exposed and losing their jobs will be enough to keep these messed up individuals from taking to the streets again, but I’m not holding my breath.

This white nationalist, Alt-Right movement is dangerous because the leaders know exactly what they’re doing. They’re hiding hate in modern clothes and slick rhetoric. They ask for their ‘right’ to be allowed to be white people (as if someone was fighting them on it,) for the ‘freedom’ to speak their pride of their skin color while ignoring that their movement can’t just have pride but pushes down and creates an atmosphere of fear and imminent danger for anyone not ‘white.’ (White is a concept, as is all race. It’s not real. We are all fully evolved, flawed humans no matter the language, the heritage, the facial and bone structure, and the history and culture. This is not to ignore what certain races have gone through, and are going through, based off of these constructs in America, but to point out the irrationality behind taking a set of random visual attributes and dividing humanity by it.)

And let’s be clear, white people are not in danger. There is no fear of the white skinned person becoming extinct. All you have to do is walk out in the sun and tan, and guess what, there are no ‘white’ people anymore. This movement is born from a group of people who have never faced the reality that they’re sharing a globe, and they have something wrong in their heads where they believe the color of skin or genetics divides humanity.

No group is going around killing white people. There is no war outside of the one in the minds of these people. This is xenophobia 101 (and it looks a lot like PTSD) triggered by seeing people who don’t reflect back certain visual traits these individuals uphold as being ‘same’ and ‘safe.’ It’s tribalism in the modern world, and it’s time to get over it.

Xenophobias is an irrational fear (like the irrational fears created by PTSD or anxiety) that these people are unwilling to overcome. These people want to change their environment to the point of ethnic cleansing and genocide because they are unwilling to face the messed up things in their psyche that constantly compares the number of white skinned people to other skinned people and feels threatened. This is a mental disorder that can be overcome, but like the people with messed up things in their head, that person has to want to get over it first.

Watching these bigots march is like watching a bunch of alcoholics march down a street screaming the thing ruining their lives—that made them lose jobs, alienated them from friends and family, kept them from being in control of their actions, created a burden on their loved ones and society as a whole— is really good for them and the world should accept burning as a result. It’s like turning on America’s state run news (Fox) and watch them all congratulate and encourage drinking for alcoholics cuz surely it’s the right thing and who cares who gets hurts because a bunch of drunk people took to the streets in cars. Does that seem irrational? It sure does. But if you ever had PTSD, you can understand how the most irrational thoughts can seem rational when you’re too afraid to face what’s happening in your own head.

And that’s the core of it all. A white nationalist is a coward.

White nationalists are cowards not only because they are threatened by the mere existence of other people with a different skin tone or culture or language, but they’re too afraid to look inside their psyche and face that irrational fear. They are unwilling to do the hard work to heal and change and stop making war with people who don’t even know they exist. You think the gay person walking down the street, or the black person sitting at work, or the Mexican chatting with friends is even aware that this one person looking around is threatened by them? No. That war of hatred and irrational fear of a threat to personal safety lives in the mind of the white nationalist, not the massive human population who is just living their lives. Xenophobia is a false reality of the mind, and to not face that false reality and tear it down to live a better life is, yeah, absolutely cowardly.

This is all bigots everywhere. This is every person who has ever lied to themselves to feel better about the world around them. It’s part of human nature—a way to cope in times of stress—but it’s twisted and never turned off when it comes to bigotry, and the consequences are so much worse. Bigots won’t face the monsters in their heads to see their actions and irrational hatred are completely their own fault, and they instead blame things like the existence of other human beings on this giant globe. And then they try to get rid of all those other humans, or just as badly, they look the other way so they can pretend an ethnic cleansing isn’t happening.

What is happening in America with the removal of legal and illegal immigrants in this country by ICE is an ethnic cleansing. The caging of children of asylum seekers at the border is an inhumane hate crime. If you’re lying to yourself that what is happening is anything else, you are a coward.

But hey, there are a lot of cowards out there. I know, cuz again, while I sought to heal my PTSD, I watched so many run from it and die with it, including my own father. People would rather contribute to the wall of silence and lies that allows atrocities to happen than face their flaws and irrational fears.

Brace yourselves for Sunday, babes. Even if nothing goes down, it is a symbol of what is happening in this country. The President of the United States, his administration, and everyone who watches the state run media, Fox News, wants to see an ethnic cleansing of America. They want to take this country from Americans and only let the ‘white people’ stay. It doesn’t matter what lies they spew, what justifications they make; they refuse to look inside and face the fear that has led them to contribute to the xenophobia in this country. They want you to hear what they say because that is all they can bear to focus on instead of the sickening, dark hole inside they’re running from. That’s why they keep repeating the irrational lie over and over—they need a mantra to keep from staring into the abyss their soul has been consumed by.

Human beings make the rules. We have an ability to rewrite the rules. We have an ability to break the rules. We have an ability to choose our actions every single day. There should never be a law that allows the demoralization, imprisonment, and/or death of another human being based on where they happened to be born, the color of their skin, their social status, their wealth, their sexuality, or their culture. If someone falls back on that, again, they’re a coward and an accomplice by justifying bigotry and inhumane acts.

These people can talk at me all they like with their bullshit justifications, but I see through them. I see their fear, and I name it every time. You have to name it because if they grow complacent in their irrational fear and hatred, they will feel empowered to act. Silence empowers the bigots just as much as agreement because all they hear is their internal mantra of nonsense justification.

Be courageous, babes, and don’t be silent. It’s the only way to have the life you want. No fear is greater than the soul crushing consequence of never living your life.

$0.99 – New World Shifters: M/M Dystopian Romance Boxset

It’s the wolf shifters against the rest of the paranormals, in a world that’s gone to Hell.

In a Dystopian world where every human has died and the paranormals are left to fend for themselves, fated mates are impossible to find. And when found, dangerous to keep!

Get your copy of the New World Shifters today!

Warning: M/M sex and sweet happily ever afters.

Includes: The Omega Shift, Saving the Omega and The Alpha’s Omega Mate.

$0.99 – The Complete Sebastian Chronicles Books 1-5

The Sebastian Chronicles is a series of 5 Erotic Paranormal Short Stories that take you through each century since Sebastian Benoit’s Vampiric inception.

The novelettes in this series (in order) are:
Book 1 – Sebastian, the beginning (MF)
Book 2 – My servant, my lover (MF/MM)
Book 3 – Wealthy ménage (MF/MM/MFM/Menage)
Book 4 – Prohibition inhibitions (MF/MM/MFM/MMF/BDSM/Menage)
Book 5 – The Tryst (MF)

Throughout the chronicles, we live vicariously by way of our beloved Sebastian’s memories. Via his trials and tribulations, love lost and love found, only to have it disappear yet once again.

His love knows no boundaries, but will he ever find another whose soul binds with his?

$0.99 – Blood Spell

Bound by an ancient prophecy, freed by love.
Mages have lived by a prophecy that states that once there are two mage houses left, one must kill the other to maintain a magical balance. But the prophecy is disrupted when a new mage is revealed and begins killing everyone in his path.

Simon Moonspell and Tobias Bloodworth, the last two mages of the ancient houses, must put their animosity aside in order to stop this new mage and fulfill the prophecy. However, when their hatred slowly turns to love, can they remain impartial or will they be forced to battle to the death?

 

 

$0.99 – A Painful Hope

It was a soft kiss, chaste. Andrew knew that if he pressed for more, he could end up destroying the precious moment completely. But even so, he found himself wrapping his hand around the back of Eiran’s neck, and moving closer.

At first, Eiran jumped. But Andrew held him firmly in place. When he felt Eiran relax, he drew him close. He didn’t care about his arm, or the fact that he was hurting, just a little. Soon, he moved forward, causing Eiran to land on the bed. Those cold, icy eyes were still there. Andrew hesitated. “Are you sure? are you really sure?”

“Yes.”

 

How To Love A Monster

– Dying at the hands of government goons was always going to happen. Waking up in a dark and twisted afterlife? Not the plan. –

Seraphim has the superhuman ability to control his own brain. Or at least, he used to, before his government-mandated brain surgery. The surgery killed him, but life isn’t over yet. He’s just woken up, shivering and alone, in the rain-soaked alleyway of a city he doesn’t recognize.

Fiend is a childhood monster. Dreamed up by Seraphim’s friend Wish, he was imprisoned in Wish’s subconscious until the birth of Wish City, a place for people with superhuman abilities to take refuge after death. Now Fiend is free—and in charge—and he’s on the hunt for anyone with abilities once they cross over.

Eager to play with his new toy, Fiend quickly makes contact with Seraphim. Lost and injured, Seraphim lets Fiend slither into his heart. But under the aching pleasure the two find with each other is a hunger that can’t be denied, and lurking in the shadows of the neon city are truths neither man nor monster is ready to face.

How to Love a Monster is a gay erotic horror romance featuring twisted and kinky M/M sex, a diabolical love interest, and an HEA ending.

Omega In Lace: A MMM Menage Romance

It was more than just a secret.

Hank Mapplethorpe is hiding something big. When he meets the young and defiant Noah Palmer at a party, he wonders if he should finally let that secret go. That’s when he sees Adam Newton, a mysterious and famous photographer, known for his subversive imagery.

Hank never felt comfortable with other guys, so he decides to stay away from them both. He has secrets. Too many to count. Although the two alphas claim to understand him, they need to know one thing: Hank gave up looking for love a long time ago.

“The best love is made in threes…”

Adam and Noah know all about desire. Dark impulses keep them awake at night, and the pleasures that society won’t accept, they refuse to let go. So when Hank decides to take off his robe and show the world who he really is, they fall for him hard.

Love wasn’t supposed to come this easy, but the three of them want more. There’s only one way to the heart, but they never expected a love triangle as deep as this. If Hank finds the strength to come out, can he discover love in the arms of two men?

Omega in Lace is a full-length MMM gay romance novel with a dash of mpreg. It is a 45,000 word omegaverse book. This novel contains hot and sexy leather action & some menage scenes, passionate angst & desire, and a HEA – a beautiful baby to keep you smiling for days. This mpreg romance is meant for 18+ readers.

Aftershock

Being acquitted of Jamie’s murder won’t bring him back. Syed might be free, but he’s lost his lover and his sub, along with his sense of control, his libido, his friends, and the stomach to inflict the kind of pain Jamie thrived on. Even his high-rise apartment doesn’t suit him anymore.

Dashiell is drawn to the handsome man he represented in court, but he’s promised himself never to get involved with another confident playboy. His next boyfriend—if he can find such a thing—will see him as something more than a backup plan for a better offer. And how could he ever give a man like Syed what he wants anyway?

Dashiell fears the day Syed will ask him to bear more pain than he can handle as Syed struggles to reconcile how he’s coming to feel about Dashiell with how he still feels about Jamie. Can their fledgling relationship survive the discovery that Syed’s new sub might be representing the man who murdered his last sub?

Jamie deserves justice, Dashiell deserves love, and Syed wants to be the one to give both these men exactly what they need.

Content warning: this book includes descriptions of homophobic hate crimes. There is very mild BDSM content.

⚡Demon Bonded #11 Is Published!⚡

Fucking Finally!

Hey babes <3

Whoo, I’m burnt out, but I got it done. I told myself it would happen by Sunday, and fuck, it’s almost 9pm and it still fucking counts! *rawr*

35,000 words. @_@ It was supposed to be 10,000, 20,000 tops. Yeah, I think I’m reaching a new stage of my writing. It’s called long winded.

I forgot how much damn coding/formatting/website crap I have to do just to get a book out. I assumed since it’s a serial and I’m not pushing on the marketing, it would go pretty damn smoothly. Nope. XD I make shit complicated. The editing was actually faster than all the website stuff. Anywhoo…

Grab it on Payhip!

So I’m doing things a little differently this time around. I’m going to launch this into Amazon later, because really, it’s already free on the website and I need cash now. Amazon is a 2 month payout for anything made and I have fun new bills because of this living in the car bs. So, if you’re the type who is going to throw down $$ in support, I hope you’ll consider Payhip, cuz it’s an immediate transaction verses 2 months of waiting.

Snag it now!

Patreon Love <3

And, of course, if you want to read for free, you absolutely can on the website! This is my experiment with Patreon. I’m new to it, just getting my feet wet, but the goal is to have it so I can give more away for free or super cheap with enough supporters.

Quick Life Update

Actually, it’s more of a writing update but I can summarize some shit. Mold is everywhere, the raining won’t fucking stop, and I’m on the first day of a juice fast. So expect I will be a raving fucking psycho bitch for at least–at least–the next week. I’ve done this juice fast thing before. It’s rough, expensive, but it has it’s rewards. I’m hoping it will kill the inflammation that’s been causing all my body aches so my back will stop screaming at me. We’ll see.

I’m back to writing The Paranormal Academy for Troubled Boys series, aka, Demon Arms sequels. I’m super excited about it. I forgot how I was nearly done with Shiny Thief. It’s almost ready for the betas (if any have still hung on after all these months. @_@) Inspiration struck for how I was going to end Manic Fool (the 4th book.)

I basically realized Sorcerer Slayer was getting ridiculously long, but I didn’t want to compromise–I love the story I’m writing. But I also didn’t want to set a precedent where the next book would have to be just as fucking long. So, instead I’m breaking Sorcerer Slayer into 3 books–Shiny Thief, Sorcerer Slayer, and Manic Fool.

As of now, Shiny Thief looks like it will be about 200,000 words–yeah, that’s the short version. =_= I know, I’m getting wordy. I hope it’s a good thing. I want to improve as a writer, but I worry that I’m just getting long winded. I know it’s subjective, but fuck, I gotta worry about something.

My goal is to have the last two books fully outlined and drafted by the time Shiny Thief is published, oh, and have that updated version of Demon Arms ready too. I know, complicating shit again. But it’s worth it! My fuck, I want people to read this stuff. Fox and Vince are just so damn perfect together. And Raider is awesome. He’s a fucking menace and a brat, but he’s got a good heart in there… somewhere.

I could talk for hours on this shit, but I won’t cuz I’m just going to ramble away. But I’m thinking of trying a trial run for a visual novel–something short and smutty–but I’m not sure if I should go with something I’ve already written, or something new. I fear anything new will end up long as fuck because I can’t seem to help myself these days. *sigh*

Decisions, decisions…

 

Demon Bonded Update And A Ton Of MM Deals This Week!

Hey babes <3

Hey, I’m nearly done with Demon Bonded episode #11! Working on the last two (three?) scenes this weekend. Finally. This baby got wordy. I think it’s going to hit 30,000 words by the time I’m officially done. @_@ I also posted the outline of the erotic short I plan on filling out next. I’ve yet to officially do anything dragon bestiality related, so might as well start things off with a (gang) bang. <3

I think I might jump right into Feral after that, the third book that follows Heat: Abducted to be his Mate, and Bite: Claiming his Mate. It fits the right length, I have a fair idea what I’m doing with it, and it’s totally a XXX level kind of story. Probably more so because there is no initial relationship between Will and his mate-to-be to soften the events that follow, unlike Heat where Ryan and Shane’s bickering past allowed for a mild level of safety and connection once you had Ryan lose his shit when the mating heat hit him. I want an excuse to explore a little Stockholm syndrome stuff, humiliation, maybe some golden showers and beast… although knowing me it might just get ridiculously cute. >_> I know, issues. XD

I’m thinking that will be fun. I’m disappointed I have to move away from the novels for a bit just to get some cash flowing, but it’s nice to return to some fun, dirty fuck fics and indulge. Speaking of which, I’m totally snagging that ‘Locked’ fic down below. I need to remember fun kinky stuff again.

Insanity Update

I was going to do a newsletter last week and ended up deciding against it. Wrote two of them, but legit, I was just too depressed. I didn’t like the voice I was using, didn’t like the place I was coming from, and I think all and all, it was the right decision. Moments pass—they’re just moments—and there is no reason to preserve the lowest fucking ones like they’re more important or are going to define anything moving forward. Depression is a blip, a hiccup in the face of the wonder life can bring, and I won’t dwell in that dark chasm when there is life to live.

I’m actually in my room—yeah, the killer bedroom of doom—and replacing all the stuff back on the walls, getting the shelves back up, and the computer. Carefully testing everything that comes back in the space to make sure it’s safe. All the windows are open and a fan has been blowing air out since I left… what, a month ago now? The days kind of blur at this point.

This is a tentative thing cuz I’m still having issues in the house in general. But as I sit here typing, waiting to finish ozoning my car (water got in there, it smells of mildew, and I’m trying really hard not to freak the fuck out that there might be mold growing in the one place I can sleep @_@) my pulse is fine. A calm 88 verse the 100+ bpm my heart hits when I’m in other parts of the house. I mean, I’m wearing my mask so it’s not a full indicator, but still, it’s a good sign. My pulse goes ape shit when I’m having a reaction, meaning I’m not having a reaction where I currently am. Yay.

We’ll see. I’m just setting the room up as an office in the hopes I can get some graphic work done in here. I’m not getting my hopes up that everything has suddenly fixed itself, but I do have hope that we may be moving in the right direction. Because, legit, I cannot get my hopes up. Multiple Chemical Sensitivity has on average a seven year length to fully heal. Even without knowing the source of this, that fact is pretty standard in a lot of reading. So things can change pretty fucking quick depending on which way the wind is blowing. I’ve read about people moving 13 times seeking a place of safety. I’m not falling into the trap of thinking anything is permanent right now. I gotta adapt and flow.

The first of the lab reports came back and I can officially say I don’t have Mast Cell Activation Syndrome, which is great, but means we still don’t know what set me off. We just noticed the bath water has a blue-green tinge so we’re checking for copper. Apparently copper toxicity can lead to immune problems, tics, anxiety, psych disorders—it can even mimic Parkinson’s—etc, etc. It’s a good contender for being what might have fucked me up this long, and hey, there are paints made for boats that specifically have copper in them for certain underwater properties, and there was that weird marine epoxy under my room for 2 years. No guarantee—it’s still a fucking guessing game and we’re getting the copper water test in the mail in half a week—but it’s another thing we’re checking.

I’ve found a rhythm to life once again. I’m writing fairly consistently. It’s a little difficult because I find myself playing chauffeur 5 days out of 7, and once I’m moving around, it’s hard to wrangle my brain into a place of writing. Seeking shade, seeking quiet, seeking any place where I open the window and don’t end up breathing in something that makes me sick; it’s fucking time consuming. Oh, and I can’t go to bookstores anymore. I started reacting to the scent of ink and paper, so, yeah, fuck my life. But my brain is working. The last few days have been the clearest it’s been in a while. Keeping expectations low, but again, hope.

I refuse to wait seven years to start my life again. Fuck that. I will not be waiting seven years to get back to Sorcerer Slayer. Fuck that. I am not putting my life on hold. I am distracted by this, by my need to make an income while I’ve been in pain and disabled on a level I haven’t had to deal with in a long time, but I’m not fucking waiting. Moving forward. Planning. Gaining ground. This shit is happening even if I’m writing out of a car, or van, or a damn cardboard (mold free, thank you) box. I’m not waiting for anything anymore. I gotta live now.

I know what I want out of life, peeps. When I finished that new Demon Arms cover, I could see a future unfold beyond what I had ever imagined for myself. No mountain is too big, no bullshit remotely worth my time. I’m heading toward my dreams and fuck anything that tries to get in my way. My inner rhino is on this shit. Rawr! XD

Locked – Free in KU

I can see the headline now: Locked Boys Transcend Tumblr. My article on Chip and Billy—two twinks locked in the name of love—is going to take this niche kink mainstream.

When Marshall arrives to interview The Chastity Brothers, he has much to learn from them about frustration and denial, about service and devotion, about what kind of men get to play the role of alpha male and what kind of men allow the very essence of their manhood to be controlled, ignored, locked up, and denied.

The interview starts Marshall on an exciting and erotic adventure into the world of locked boys and their alpha male partners as he escorts Chip and Billy to a gang bang, meets Niblet and some of the members of the motorcycle club who keep him, visits the estate where Spike spends his nights in a crate, and learns an important lesson of love from an older alpha male who’ll never forget the boy who got away.

And somewhere along his journey, he might just find a locked boy of his own.

Content advisory: This is a non-romantic, highly kinky story that includes sharing, gang bangs, extreme orgasm denial, and light humiliation

Lead to Follow: Tales of the Werewolf Tribes – $0.99

Werewolves, adventure, and romance

An attempt on Ganzorig’s life by members of his own tribe sends the Siberian Killers into turmoil. On the brink of civil war, Ganzorig’s role as a beta and the Mongolian leadership of the tribe are under threat. A relationship is the last thing Ganz needs, especially since the man he is falling for is a prime target for the Russian packs challenging his rule.

Cristian has enough on his plate ruling the Dacian Wolves. His alpha spends most of her time in the UK and the Romanian packs turn to him for leadership. Getting dragged into Siberian Killer feuds, discovering their male beta is who Cristian is falling for, and having a permanent target on his back are not things he’s bargained for.

A grueling fight for survival, great plans for the future, and an attraction that’s undeniable bring Ganzorig and Cristian together. Faced with real danger, tribe responsibilities, and their own fears, it hardly seems enough to keep them from going their separate ways.

Forged In Flood – $0.99

From bestselling author Dahlia Donovan comes a new witty novella between three very different men. With drama, emotional turmoil, and hilarious banter, be prepared to be swept away in Dahlia’s British M/M/M romance.

When one drunken night forever scars three best friends, will they ever find a way to pick up the pieces?

Eaten up with guilt, Ivan Black spends ten years hiding from the world. He retreats to his family forge to wallow in misery. Alone. So lonely his heart aches with it.

Wesley Cook and Rolland Spence have been together since university. They struggle through the physical scars of the accident, building a life in the ruins of their dreams. They find happiness but continue to miss their angry ginger Viking—Ivan.

In all the anger of wasted years, the three men find a way to forge a relationship as hot as the fires in the smithy.

Forged in Flood is a stand-alone British contemporary M/M/M romance. With heartache, hot men with foul mouths, and plenty of heat, enjoy getting to know Ivan, Wesley, and Roland.

Vampire Love: Gay Vampire MPREG Romance – $0.99

Can Their Love Withstand Their Fathers’ Feud?

A war has been declared. Only, it was a secret war. Claude and Ronnie live in a divided city -split in two by their fathers’ feud. But it’s also divided by fear. On one side stand humans, united and powerful and on the other side, vampires run, alone and scared.

Caught up in the middle is spoilt rich kid Claude. Not long ago, he was a carefree playboy. But now, is a virtual recluse. Because he is the thing that his father hates even more than his business rival. A vampire. And when he saves mysterious stranger, Ronnie, from certain death, he finds himself in serious danger… from his own father!

Soon both their lives are hotly entwined … in more ways than one! With a price on their heads, they must both run from their families. And will they make it out of the city alive?

Truth Be Told – $0.99

M/M contemporary romance story.

Patrick is gorgeous, gay, and a lawyer climbing the corporate ladder. His fears about what his family and colleagues will think about his sexuality mean that he wants to stay firmly in the closet. When he goes to a new club in search of a one-night stand, he is picked up by Liam, the bar’s owner.

Liam is big, beautiful, and also a top. A hot and heavy night ensues leaving them both thinking there could be more to their hook-up than just sex.

But Liam is out and proud gay. His integrity will not stand for Patrick’s closeted sexuality. Patrick asks for enough time to come to terms with all the changes Liam will bring to his life…and major problems occur.

Warning: Lot’s of M/M sex in this standalone novella. Including some light bdsm and a super sweet happily ever after.

Conversations with an Angel – Free

Jamal has a typical mother who’d like him to succeed in all aspects of life, especially when it comes to marriage. But Jamal already has a partner. His name is Farnham.

And while Jamal doesn’t want to disappoint his family, his mother’s interference is pushing Farnham away. In the end it will take a voice of reason to help Jamal rethink his life.

 

 

 

Tainted Life – Free

A contemporary gay romance set in London

 

Surprisingly, The Parking Lot Is Safer Than The Park

Don’t miss the $0.99 deals below

Okay, tried to write this earlier but it just sounded grumpy as fuck. Let’s try again…

Hey babes ^^

I’m shaking as I write this. An uncontrollable tremor that has taken over my body and makes it feel like I’m anxious, nervous, my heart racing. Why? Well I’m chilling at Barnes and Nobles and there is a chemical in here that for whatever reason makes it so every time I’m around it, I tremble.

This is my life now. I am under the influence of chemicals everywhere I go. It changes my mood in ways that, well, I’m noticing—awareness is very good—but I don’t fully get to have much say in the matter. I find myself irritated, sometimes beyond that, sometimes we’re talking full rage, over absolutely nothing. And if that’s not bad enough, I’m seeing patterns of paranoia and illogical thought processes during this time as well. So, yeah, I might be turning into a crazy person on top of this bullshit.

If you’ve never been on the psych side of things, let me just say how extremely easy it is to diverge from the ‘norm.’ Our brains are a chemical cocktail that influences our thoughts, moods, emotions, perceptions, senses, and at the end of it all, our actions. It is still a choice—every action is still a choice—but when you are reacting instead of making a conscious choice to act, it is usually in result to the chemical balance occurring in your brain instead of anything to do with reality.

People seem to think that the ‘crazies’ are so far gone that they can never be reached, like it’s this wall of sanity you can never climb without huge amounts of stress. Nope. Sorry to disappoint. One pill, one inhalation, one knock to the head, inflammation that presses on the wrong brain cells, and you can slip away. And sometimes you come back, or sometimes you’re gone a while only to return and the people around you still think you’re not there, that you’re not allowed to be normal anymore because you crossed that line. They want a line, a wall, so they can feel safe. It’s not there. We are all malleable from road rage to sudden traumatic events and then we go home, and we’re normal until another moment hits. Sanity is amazingly subjective.

I’m hoping that removing myself from the chemical trigger that set me off initially and detoxing the chemical from my body will reverse a lot of this shit—there is always hope—but I’m dealing with a lot of processing and coping with the now as I watch these new changes come on. And the now keeps changing depending on where I am, if my mask is on well enough and the filter fresh, if people around me are wearing perfume, or shampoo, or smoking. My life is consumed by seeking balance in an impossible to control world where the smallest of things from the shifting of a breeze can change me from stable to someone not quite me.

We may have (pretty fucking sure) found the source of the contaminate in the house. Talking to the landlord, it looks like the tenant before us was running some sort of chop shop out of the house. Cars coming in and disappearing in the middle of the night, parking them all over the yard, body work, selling nice cars super cheap, etc, etc. The guy was a charmer, I’m sure. Anyways, we found a leaking can of this weird industrial grade marine epoxy in the basement directly under my room. Thought ‘Ah ha! This is it!’ and then we found about 12 cans of shit hidden in a hole in the attic in the garage. @_@

Paint thinners, more epoxy, asphalt emulation driveway sealer, motor oil, polyurethane, and plenty of shit with labels torn. The containers were all swollen from the high heat and the air was shimmering from the chemicals in the air. They’ve been there the entire 2 years we’ve been living here, and yeah, moved from a moldy apartment of 4 years into a chemical dump and I’m not 100% sure what the fuck to do. We took the stuff to hazardous waste to have it disposed of today, but things are looking grim. I’m still reacting to the house and yard.

I have spent all this time and thousands of dollars trying to do something to the house to make it work, only to now realize it may have been a complete waste. The guy was spraying cars with this stuff, likely on the yard, which is why I keep reacting when I go outside there. The place is probably broken beyond repair, and I’m at this crossroads of how do I move. Do I just move myself? Do I move my family who will have far fewer requirements for living arrangements or let them stay? I’m afraid they’re getting sick too, that this is why they’re still tired even though we moved out of the mold of the place before. But if I move them to fit my standards then this shit is going to be so much more difficult.

I don’t know if I can live in a house like normal people can. I’m reacting to everything. I’m getting more sensitive. I can’t handle smoke—any smoke now. Like, if steam is coming off my food because it was just heated up, I have a reaction. My options are getting more limited and I’m not sure if it’s a sign of things to come, or just a fluctuation as I start detoxing the chemicals that have built up in my body. My tears don’t feel like acid anymore, so, yay? Hope? I still feel like I’m spitting acid though at weird moments. Where should I be looking, seeing as all the shit I just did isn’t going to fix this situation? Do I just look for an old van, buy a solar generator, a shit ton of air filters, and park myself indefinitely in a Walmart parking lot until I can get my fucking life back?

It’s the long term verse short term solution choice. I want this to be short term. I want to waste my money because that means I fixed shit and I’m living in a house, and yeah, I can handle fucking up because I can work and make the money back. But if I go for the short term and fuck myself in the long run, things could be worse. People kill themselves over this illness. Multiple Chemical Sensitivity has a high suicide rate not just because of the symptoms of the illness but the absolute isolation and separation from family, home, and previous life involved in the condition. There are people running their entire lives looking for one safe fucking place to breathe and they never find it and they just give the fuck up because of the damn agony of living like this. Coping is key. My focus needs to be on objective assessment of the circumstances followed with the correct emotional and physical coping strategies to keep shit from getting too crazy.

I need to find a way to live my life right this fucking second, while also coping with what I’m going through, because this could be long term shit if I’m one of the unlucky ones. I need to keep a sense of grounding in my community, in the reality around me as every norm I know erodes away. I need to carry my serenity and my home with me everywhere I go, because I will not be able to find that out in this world full of everyday chemicals I can no longer tolerate. I need to be the calm against the storm instead of getting caught up in the whirlwind of despair.

And let me just say, it’s fucking hard. I don’t want to be calm; I want to rage, and cry, and freak the fuck out. I want to get caught up, and feel like a victim, and bitch my life away. I want to survive this very instant and fuck over the future because at least this moment was bearable. This really fucking sucks.

I have to be the other me, the calm, responsible me. I gotta hit my inner rhino up who has gotten me through every tough time I’ve been through and remind her that we don’t need to run blindly forward to get shit done; sometimes the strongest move is the one where we are still and sturdy. Sometimes we need to flow and bow when we see the insanity encroaching because hey, we can always flow right back to normal and happy moments later. Nothing is forever and we gotta flow.

There have been happy discoveries, by the way. I know this all sounds like a fucking downer, but I have found so much these last few weeks. My muscles are working again. I lifted a 50lb bag and thought it must be lighter because I could easily lift the damn thing. My skin is like real skin again. Even getting oily skin on my face when before I was dry as paper. The sores have all healed on my tongue, I’m producing actual body heat now, and hey, I’m tanning from all the sun I’m getting. I no longer need dopamine at all now that I’m out of the chemical trigger. I have a feeling the histamine response to the chemical had been so intense and so constant that my body had just stopped producing dopamine and was instead focused on histamines. Now that I’m away from the chemical, my body’s systems are turning back on and focusing on normal processes. (Aka, I don’t have Parkinson’s! Yes!!!) Also, I have a fucking mind in all this, and I know how to find answers. I have started treatment to improve my methylation on a cellular level, focusing on detoxification as well as protecting from and repairing the neurological damage that has come with this chemical exposure. I am not in a mental place of despair, but of being proactive.

But I won’t fucking lie to myself. People lose to this illness all the time and I refuse to be one of them. Stakes are too high to fuck around thinking it will solve itself. There is no perfect time, no perfect level of health where I can finally say ‘now I can focus on this.’ I gotta do this now. I gotta start living now and adapt to this new speed of living and make this work now.

So, with that in mind, I think I’ve decided on the writing front to focus on erotica for now. Short stories, mostly a taboo XXX focus, all with the intent of generating income. I can’t focus on novels—my mind and circumstances all refuse to reach that level of creative flow yet—and to be honest, I’m not sure if I can even really write a short story. I wish I were joking, but trying to get to the editing phase is like pulling teeth. It’s tedious beyond anything I’m used to. But I have to try; I have to go through the motions of living life instead of just being a reaction to every chemical that blows my way. I have to make now my life instead of waiting to live. This is my new job. 24-7. Coping strategies of how to live with MCS.

My biggest wall at the moment on the work front is the graphics situation. I really need to get to my PC so I can make cover art, but I can’t walk into my room without getting sick. I know the laptop I have for writing probably has the specs to be able to run Photoshop, but the screen is shit. It’s got a plastic glare, the contrast is turned up, and it over saturates everything. It’s just not usable for graphics. I can’t run the PC in my car—spinning disk hard drives in a moving vehicle is just asking for trouble. I’m actually thinking of those tablet things. The Cintiq or the Surface Pro (or whatever the hell the current versions are seeing as I haven’t looked at this shit in years.) It just feels like a toy, though. At least, when I was looking at it when I had a viable PC it sure felt like a fucking waste of money. But maybe a screen on the tablet would be the answer where the laptop would run the software but the visual graphics would still conform to a high standard screen. It’s a thought—one I can’t afford so probably won’t happen any time soon—but yeah, something to consider.

I guess it comes down to what is the long term damage of intentionally exposing myself to these triggering chemicals for the trade off of getting shit done? If the damage is low and easy to repair, then it’s worth the short term suffering to reach a goal. If it’s not—if I could be seriously harming myself just to make a fucking picture—then I gotta find another way.

I’ll leave you with a random discovery for the week; there are a lot of weirdos hanging out in parks. If you find yourself going to a wooded area to breathe and get away, and you think you’re living in a perfectly safe community, just be aware people looking for weird shit end up in parks. If you happen to have tits, it gets far more annoying as fuck, which is why I’m writing this at Barnes and Noble, chemicals and all, because people are far too polite here to pull that shit. This has been a damn frustrating week of annoying ass discoveries like this when all I want is to find a place to breathe and be a person. Oh, but a cool discovery! You can make your own blackout curtains for a car with $20 worth of fabric, malleable wire, wire cutters, and pliers super easy. And if you hook up a light and fan and hang out writing all night on your computer, it feels like you’re in your own little fort hidden from the world.

Werewolf Finding Love

This wolf runs alone.

Clayton is a werewolf with the blood of an alpha coursing through his veins. After his father’s death, it was his duty to take the position of pack leader.

Only, that never happened.

After getting caught up with the wrong man, he succeeded in getting his heart broken and his whole world turned upside down. Before he knew it, he was running alone – a lone wolf.

 

Moonlit Kisses

He had to find an apartment, somewhere near here where he could keep a close eye on the siblings. He had to find a job soon too, one that had absolutely no connections to his old life. He had bills to pay, food to get, maybe even some furniture. All the while, he’d try to convince himself over and over again that this was just a job, and nothing more. Despite all the passionate sex he and Daniel might have, it was meaningless in the end.

And yet, as he turned back, he fought a figure watching him. A handsome man, whose side eyes made him regret, for a moment, that he’d left.

Conner considered waving. He considered smiling, or at the very least, acknowledging the figure.

But then he closed his eyes. He turned back, and walked further down the street.

So, he searched far and wide for his mate…

Gaming and IRL Boss Fights

An internet famous geek. A sexy landlord who hates him. An unlikely duo with slim chances of beating the romance game.

Simon Cromfield’s life seems perfect from the outside. His gaming channels made him an internet celebrity, he has great friends, and he’s just moved into a luxurious apartment. Yet his gorgeous landlord did a one-eighty turn and decided he hates Simon, his family thinks he’s a total failure, and some of his fans act like they own him.

Branden Dahlman has enough on his plate. He doesn’t need that pest, Simon, who became the bane of Branden’s existence on top of a large estate he never wanted and a family that drives him insane. As he unleashes his resentment on Simon, the sexy bastard insists on proving Branden wrong about everything.

In an unlikely turn of events, when Simon hits his lowest, Branden is there to support him. But will this new-found thing between them last when the pressures of Simon’s world come crashing in?

Gaming and IRL Boss Fights is the third book in the contemporary gay romance series Famous on the Internet. If you like geeks, binge-watching online content, and enemies-to-lovers tropes, then you will love Alina Popescu’s online celebrity protagonists.

Buy your copy of Gaming and IRL Boss Fights today to join the game.

Summer Love: A Non-Shifter Omegaverse M/M Mpreg Romance

It started as a fleeting moment, but it turned into the summer of their lives.

In every alpha’s life there is an omega he’ll never forget, and a summer where it all started. For Riley, that began with a young man who was desperate for a change. As soon as Riley saw that omega’s royal blue eyes, pink lips, and smooth skin, he was head over heels.

Alpha Riley was starting over in the freshly built town of Belleview Bay. His criminal past was something he just wanted to leave behind completely. All he aspired to do was open his very own restaurant. To move on. Too bad he didn’t have a cent to his name.
Omega Holden never believed in love, but he sure did believe in fate. At his core, he was a dream chaser. His parents, however, owned a family business, and they weren’t so keen on letting him leave.

Destined for something greater, he placed his things into a bag and left home for good. Within weeks, he was sh*t out of luck. With nowhere to turn, he was ready to give up. That is, until he saw Riley.
They both yearned for the unattainable. Alone, success felt impossible. But together, they could have had it all: Love, adoration, and a darling baby to complete their family.

Summer Love is a full-length gay second chance romance novel. It is 52,000 words. This book contains hot and sexy scenes, emotional moments full of desire, and a beautiful baby to fill your hearts with love. This mpreg book is meant for 18+ readers.

Living Out Of A Toyota Yaris Hatchback

Hey, babes

Just a little check in

Late today. Wasn’t even sure if this was happening, but I seem to have figured out how to do a mobile hot-spot, so here goes. I’m currently living out of my car, and yeah, it’s better. A lot better. I tried sleeping in the yard, but I was still being hit with whatever has taken over my house. Then the neighbors decided to burn their pressurized wood leftovers from the crap they pulled out of their old edition, and that was it. I had to leave.

Kept thinking something like camping, but really, shit is expensive. Like, rent level expensive just to hang at a campsite. So yeah, you can sleep overnight in any Walmart parking lot and they don’t charge a fee *snort* and during the day I can go hang in much prettier areas, and ideally, once the swelling in my brain is down, I’ll be able to write again.

I had to stop lying to myself and be upfront. I’m allergic to my house, and staying there was making me allergic to fucking everything. EVERYTHING. Still can’t tell you the name of whatever the hell it is setting me off, but at least now we know it’s a chemical. Oh, right!

So I didn’t tell you. It’s been a busy week. I got an early appointment with my doctor! Oh, such a relief. She’s certain it’s either mold toxicity (cuz of my history) or a chemical exposure. We’re checking other things as well such as Mast Cell Activation. I just sent out for some home test kits to see if we can identify what chemical might be in the house or if it’s a VOC or something mold creates. All the symptoms though are straight out of a damn worker’s guide to health and safety for chemical exposure. I left the house for 24 hours, returned, and literally felt the air burning (through my mask) and stinging my tongue and throat. When I said it felt like the air was burning against my hand, hot to touch? Yeah, that’s sign of a chemical being there.

So this is after a week of running an air scrubber, of washing every damn surface down, of sealing my bedroom in a no VOCs plastic seal to keep anything from gassing out of the walls or floor. Nothing had touched this thing; it was still hovering in the damn air like a fucking phantom. Called a poison control # to see if they had any tips of what to do, how to remove it, who to call—nothing. We could call a home inspector, I guess, but yeah, no one really cares if you have something poisoning you in your house. You’re on your own.

It was my wake up call. I realized that was it. Whatever this is, I don’t have the ability to remove it, or the ability to disperse it at this time, and I’m not about to live with the shit. So I took the only option and left. Still a few things to grab from the house—making a list atm—and then I’m just not going back until I know it’s safe. I need a chance to heal and every exposure to that shit keeps me from getting better.

My head is better when I’m out of the house. Not just the pain and insanity of that, but my thought processes and mood. This move felt like an impossibility yesterday. We went to visit my bf’s parents and see if I might fair better at their place. It was an interesting discovery not only of all the chemicals the average suburban home douses in every day for no damn good reason outside of they saw a commercial and really needed the grass to be the same shade of green, but also a very emotionally trying time. Although I can be compassionate and considerate toward their cancer and lung problems, I in return am laughed at for wearing a mask to breathe and not seeing a ‘real’ doctor—my doctor has practiced alopathy (mainstream medicine) as well as alternative solutions with a focus on chronic conditions the main medical field ignores because they’re just too hard to solve, but, you know, that’s not real because they’re not in the ‘system’ these people all live in.

I do not miss living in that old system. I forgot how pervasive those messages were. I can walk into a supermarket in a mask where I’m currently living and people might look, but they get it, they see someone with a condition. They know people are different and they aren’t wasting every moment of their day trying to look, dress, sound, act and just front the way they think people want them to be. When I walked into a store in the town where I used to live, people think I’m being an asshole, or looking for attention, or a psycho creep who’s going to go on a murdering spree. These people have their televisions turned on 24-7 and they don’t know the real world anymore and they are fucking miserable to be around. They are trying so fucking hard to be someone or thing, and they are dismissive and judgmental to anyone who isn’t playing the same boring ass game.

Illness is isolating enough. I have had absolute strangers far more accepting of what I’m going through than his family, because hey, strangers don’t feel the need to judge me every fucking time they see me. You know how some people just exist, and live, and it’s okay? Yeah, not with these people. You have to have an opinion about people instead, you have to decide they’re right or wrong or doing wrong or wasting their lives, etc. You can’t just ‘be’ with these people, and it’s exhausting. But whatever. It was toxic on a different level and more shit to avoid right now.

The doc thinks if I can flush whatever has built up in my system out, the multiple chemical sensitivity will heal itself and I won’t need to be in a mask as much. At first I didn’t truly believe it, but just being out of the house, I can see that scents aren’t hurting me as much as before. I can sweat again, my tears sting like acid, but I know it must be the chemical clearing my body. I just need to wait on some of the meds that help this shit along, and go from there and try to detox the chemicals out. I keep shaking though, which is new the last few days and really uncomfortable. My whole body keeps shaking, these tremors like I’m frozen but it’s not temperature related. I read somewhere it could just be a sign of chemical overexposure. It’s unsettling but hasn’t killed me yet. At least the twitching has pretty much stopped; like a spasm in random parts of my body. Very fun.

I’m doing a lot of figuring out how to live like this at the moment. Boring, mundane stuff you don’t think of, like where are clean bathrooms open 24-7, and getting a little propane stove really isn’t going to do shit if I don’t actually buy a damn pan to put on it. XD But I’m feeling pretty chill. I can’t imagine what this would have been like for me when I still had the PTSD—lol, actually I kinda can. I’ve been homeless before and far less empowered during that time, and the anxiety is far more a drain on the body than reality any day. This is fine. I have a nice car, there are plenty of scenic views around where I live combined with city and suburbs and plenty of wifi points and coffee shops with charging stations. And I’m not in pain or being poisoned—what more can you really ask for? It’s all good. What really is the measure of your life, the stuff you carry around with you or the shit you do? As long as I can create the things I love to create, it’s all good.

Art might actually be out for now though cuz I don’t think I’ll be running my PC out of my car any time soon. I might be able to do art on the laptop, I’m just not sure if it could run something like photoshop… Hmm. Food for thought for the future. I will need to have book covers eventually…

Hey, I managed to read a book finally cuz of all this. Ready Player One. Slow start but damn, it was a fun ride. <3 Hope you’re all having a fine summer so far. Gah, and stay out of the sun. It was a burning ball of fire today. Like, legit. XD

Peace, babes.