?A Growling, Sexy Halloween Sale!?

Hey babes,

Just a quick heads up cuz I totally forgot to mention it in the last newsletter. Taken By Beasts is on sale for $0.99 for the rest of the week for Halloween. (Okay, I might have just forgotten I set up the sale until now… >_> Whoopsie.)

Happy reading! ^.^

Taken By Beasts :
M/M Erotic Halloween Collection

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

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

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

18+ For explicit man on monster action, graphic language, breeding, growls, tears, and over 66,000 words of hot, sexy fun.

? Autumn Check In ?

Hey babes,

Hey, did you remember to snag the edited version of Step Daddy last time? It’s free!

I wanted to check in, explain a bit of what’s going on with me as we approach my ultimate favorite time of year, Halloween.

My broken tooth sucks but the infection seems to be done (for now.) I’m hoping to get it pulled soon—contacted a dentist who takes my insurance and also practices sedation dentistry. Apparently, it’s really common for anyone previously abused to find going to the dentist triggering. Something to do with being tilted back in a chair, feeling suffocated, things stuck in your mouth, usually a condescending person talking down to you about your brushing/eating habits, etc. It’s been extremely difficult to get me to a dentist, and at this point in my life, unless I can find one who isn’t a complete sociopathic sadist, I’m just walking. I have no interest in re-traumatizing myself because ‘reasons.’ But I have shitty dental insurance, so it’s been hard to find someone who actually gives a fuck.

When you can’t sit still…

So… I think I have ADD. Things have changed really drastically these last few months—it’s like I’m waking up again, living in my life, finally being me (fuck, how many times have I said this? Here’s to it finally sticking!) I started experimenting with small bits of caffeine just last week and saw such amazing results. I also saw my adrenals struggle and went back on adrenal support, and suddenly here I am, waking up every morning (instead of at 5pm,) cleaning the house, getting errands done, cooking new meals and eating regularly, singing to music and speeding around in the car, really enjoying life because I can feel joy again… and kinda running from life because I’m struggling to sit still and focus.

I know my dopamine system has been fucked. The moment I realized those Parkinson’s symptoms last year right before the mold took over my room, I have been super focused on reversing back to ‘normal.’ And for the most part, I’ve gotten there. I finally got my creative spark back this week—it’s fucking awesome! But wrangling my brain into focus is so freaking difficult. O_o It’s not a new pattern. I’ve seen this again and again, how my brain likes to problem solve, how it liked to battle at every step because a part of it was wired to get dopamine that way. I’m not a creative because I’m good at this shit; I got good at creative stuff because that’s how my brain is wired to get what it needs to thrive. Problem solving is my dopamine goldmine. If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to solve my health problems because I wouldn’t have been driven. If I could only get dopamine through exercise, I would be an athlete. The same with social interaction: if talking to people was the only way I could get my dopamine burst, I would be social AF. But that’s not how my brain is wired; this squishy, organic computer is all about the problem solving.

So, I’m still getting dopamine from making art, the eye test from hell of decision fatigue of ‘this’ or ‘this’ that rewards my brain with dopamine every time it sees a pattern or color it finds pleasing. I get dopamine from expressing a thought into words, like with this Newsletter, or when I write argumentative pieces. If I decided to write nonfiction, that would be a win. What I’m struggling with to even sit still for long enough, never mind get a dopamine reward from is my fantasy writing. Like, my house is clean and my laundry done and folded away and I’m cooking new stuff and raking leaves because I can’t sit still. I just want to jump up and run around and DO STUFF. And I was hoping it was, you know, a phase as my body gets healthy and I’m compelled to live life more fully. But really, I am struggling to slow down and just be still long enough to complete writing tasks.

I’m brainstorming and researching now about what I can do. Maybe timed writing bursts followed by quick exercise or a bit of chocolate or something. I want to help wire my brain to find reward in writing. If you remember anything about the Pavlov experiment, he got dogs to salivate from the sound of a bell by first associating that sound of the bell with food. I need to create a positive dopamine response to go hand in hand with writing again. Someone had a good idea of creating a visual representation of my process so that I can see my accomplishment as I finish scene to scene, and therefore derive some satisfaction that way, seeing the visual pattern of success. It’s a lot harder with writing because it’s not immediate reward the same way you get from getting a scent burst or flavor burst or visual burst. The senses just aren’t engaged the same way; it’s purely this conceptual thing happening. Problem solving is very much hitting a wall and gaining dopamine from pain, just as much as gaining dopamine from the reward of solving the problem. It’s what drives me to experiment—failure is a win just as much as success to my dopamine system. I’m not getting any of that from writing.

Do any of you struggle with ADD/ADHD? I’ve been looking up tips online (like, one recommended a weird, giant bouncy ball to sit on so I can move around while typing—not sure how the cats will react to that… >_> ) I’d love to know if anyone has some real world tips that have helped them. Looking back, I think this was part of why I couldn’t read fiction anymore. My brain just stopped getting rewarded from reading a new story, but I could still enjoy television because of the visual/auditory stimulation. I’m determined to get this part of me back, I just feel like I’m wandering around in the dark right now as I sort it all out.

On the creative front… Sexing it up!

Now that I rediscovered my fun and creativity in regard to writing—yeah, that came back this month, fuck yeah! (I am improving, as frustrating as this all is. I’m winning this shit.) I decided that the new PATB format really required some adult content in the first episodes to ensure new readers aren’t confused. Sadie Sins can’t put out 3 sexless books—that would be madness. @_@ So I’m pushing the background characters a bit, letting them shine—because I refuse to ruin the damn build up of actual romance I have finally created for Wylie/Dorian.

The inner beasts of the characters now have voices. Not too complex—they’re kinda the primal thoughts jumping to the surface depending on the situation, usually in contrast to how a character wants to act. Theo’s inner dragon is a bit of a bloody fuck monster in all the fun ways. <3 Lol, Theodore might be going on a sexy killing spree or two to spice things up (no one ever said authors or their pet dragon shifters were sane, peeps. XD) I also thought it might be fun to really see how magic can work against paranormals, how they can be tracked down, spells sprung, that sort of thing. Magic was more a device in the first version of Demon Arms, not necessarily the element in a world it should be that changes how everything works. I want to see magic be its own character, changing the playing field, changing the power dynamics like it should.

So yeah, I’ve got some fun, sexy, bloody bits to add to the story as I go forward. And it’s helping. When I get creative elements sparking, outlining new pieces in, that dopamine reward turns on and I’m pulled back to the project— I am going to win this, babes. Out of all the shit I have overcome health wise, this has got to be a breeze. I turned back on my fucking emotions and sensations when they stopped half a year ago; I can turn back on the dopamine reward for writing. How do I know? Because this is how my brain fucking works and I have faith in my very nature to follow through and beat this shit.

Hope you’re all enjoying the weather and change of seasons (unless you’re in a part of the world that is far more consistent.) The leaves are a wildfire of beauty outside, which of course is where I’m going right after I mail this out. I love autumn and the energy sparking in the air. <3 It’s inspiration for all the creative thoughts flowing in my mind.

???Digital Meet And Greet

Hey babes,

I’m doing one of those author takeovers Saturday Sept 28th at 4pm EST. You can catch me on Facebook at House of Taboo BooxXx.

It’s Meraki’s dark and sexy book group soon to be publishing house, so if you haven’t noticed it yet, you’re going to want to jump in. 😉 They’re having a banned book week, talks about censorship and intros to taboo authors you may have missed. I’m giving away a freebie in celebration of banned book week, aka, one of my previously banned books. If you haven’t snagged it yet, you’ll be able to during the author takeover. I look forward to seeing you all there.

Oh, before I forget, Wendy just released a book, Not Another Hero, about porn stars in space. (I know, fucking brilliant. I’m trying to think what a zero gravity cumshot would look like… messy. Very messy.)

Not Another Hero

When porn stars make sexy movies in space, no matter what happens, don’t fall in love!

To help finance expensive voyages, space exploration has become a scripted, triple X soap opera. Trips are fully automated, controlled from Earth. The crew are not scientists but porn stars called Heroes. It’s fun and lucrative, until someone tampers with the script.

Meanwhile, the playboy captain, Stirling Kane, who lives only for filmed hook-ups to bring in the royalties, finds himself falling in love with a new crew member who might not be a real porn star Hero, but an imposter. Worse, he might be an actual scientist!

Includes: Romance among the stars, assless chaps, frozen burritos, serious love, very little science and an HEA.

Check In

I finally (fairly certain) have my shit together enough to publish the PATB serial. (I hope.) I’m trying to bust through this writer’s block and stupid insecurity and just do this shit. I’m treating it like depression, something that was off my radar given all the seemingly bigger health problems. It seems to be working. Making myself exercise every day (light stuff,) taking some gentle mood elevators (lithium orotate) and starting to welcome in some healthy stress now. I’m hopeful that I’m getting to the other side of this bs.

I’ve gotten 2 covers done so far (second one is Dorian <3 yay) and I just gotta push the fuck through. Although, I’m super worried that the first 3 episodes have no sex in them, like, at all. O_O It feels very off brand, you know? Ugh. ^^;;;

A little writing inspiration…

I’m super excited for October. This is seriously my fav time of year. Hope you’re all having a great fall so far. <3

?Mental Tricksters?

Hey babes,

Before I get into my usual wordiness, I want to share some stuff. The #1 thing driving me at the moment is this:

Baby kitten Piper needs medical help!

Amy’s adorable kitten got between a dog and its dinner, and the poor thing is hurting. If you can spare anything to help pay for the medical bills for this little cutie, you’d be adding some good into this damn unfair world. I hate the price tag we put on life; it’s so cruel. :/

Join The GoFundMe

Overwhelm

I’ve been taking this month to look at it all, look at why I’ve slowed down, why this writer’s block has hit me, and how to unravel from it all. My successes during this time? I’ve looked at stories and outlines I love but have completely ignored the last year because of my focus on the PATB series. I even updated a few fanfics, and added 2 scenes to Chasing Raider, plus briefly fleshed out an outline. I have started eating foods I feared had mold, drinking socially once a week, having sips of coffee even though my adrenals once protested the very thought of it. I’ve been reading—a luxury I cut out for far too long. I have a desk covered in supplements I don’t take anymore because I don’t need them… but I haven’t quite convinced myself to hide them away just yet. I made myself a writing space, a daily thinking space where I can stretch and relax and let the thoughts flow.

I see that I’m stressing myself—that it’s all coming from my own mind—and I’m trying to manage it better, place less to no expectations on myself, and find that creative spark again. And I’m feeling it—the spark is hitting—but I’m also holding back, not responding to impulse, and that is where the biggest problem lies. I have lost my ability to just flow when creativity hits, not because the world is keeping me back, but because I am self-censoring to the point of my own destruction.

I am overwhelmed. The noose of poverty grows ever tighter even as my body strengthens, and I see I have no control over my creative impulse. I see all these beautiful things I want to create, all these places in my mind where I want to play, and I freeze. Because as much fun as I see it all being, there is something underneath it all clawing at me, demanding I hold still and stop rushing off toward the cliff. Surely if I flash off in any direction, I will end up broken and exhausted.

I’m not good with change. When I was a child in foster care, change was not an opportunity but a monster waiting behind every door as I wondered what fresh hells would await. PTSD has ingrained this fear in me, this caution that to fly free is to risk everything. Part of my survival was in being a chameleon, staring deeply into the social mirror and adapting at every turn so as to be whatever it was that would keep me safe at the time. It was very important back then, life and death with no exaggeration, and it is how I learned to live.

So my psyche is self regulating, taking over my nervous system, numbing me, freezing me, dulling my focus so that it can protect me, stealing my love of creating. If it can keep me frozen, I will be safe, even if trapped in this half life. I am my own jailer, and I couldn’t see it because when my psyche made me sick, it was such a good distraction from my thoughts. When it stole my memory—as PTSD has done for over 30 years—I could barely notice it slipping away. It was only in rediscovery that I could see how I had been distracted once again.

And that is key to the problem. I didn’t realize there was a trickster in my head, one who has been running wild since I got PTSD. This part of me thinks its helping, is treating me like an unruly child by modulating my emotions and sensations for me, instead of asking my input. And bluntly, perhaps it was right to do so, because as long as my sympathetic nervous system was engaged, I couldn’t be in the control seat of my mind. PTSD left me in a chronic state of fight or flight, and it’s only in switching over to the parasympathetic nervous system and being able to calm the fuck down, finally, that I can see the damage my thoughts were doing, keeping me in that unbearable state.

So I have found a way to switch off the survival nervous system and be in the calm while also still awake, but I’m seeing now the trickster underneath, the one who is flipping switches when it feels I’m losing control. Some of the triggers I could notice easily, mostly in the emotional. Anger, sorrow, fear—my body shuts them down. I can’t remember the last time I blushed. It can be uncomfortable being in a body that feels, so my body has shut that off when I cross the overwhelm line. It has made me sick, exhausted in a moment, knocking me out so I can stop thinking about what stresses me. Simple, uncomplicated. Half dead. Because my memories hold moments of deep trauma, my body has shut that down too, creating this veil between me and that part of my mind, regulating however it sees fit. And as I peer at it this last week, its hold loosens, and I wait, wondering if I have made a mistake, if I can adapt to feeling whole.

I didn’t see the overwhelm writing was creating in me, partly in how writing makes me feel. Writing has always been a bridge for me to reach both my memories and my emotions. It was a safe bridge, but lately it hasn’t been feeling safe because writing has also become a lot of pressure. It is leading me toward change in my life, great change, positive change, and I feel overwhelmed and lost in it. What monster will be behind this new door and will I belong here?

I think this has been the longest breath to steady myself that I have ever taken, one that has spanned months—perhaps even a lifetime in some ways as I ask myself to just be calm and relax.

Reading

In the proof that I’ve been having fun—I know, I can’t quite believe it myself—I want to share the two books I’ve been reading this month.

?Crazy Adorableness?

Hey babes,

So, for starters I saw Brea has her latest book out, and it looks super fucking adorable—crazy adorable! <3 So I’m smacking it at the top here for anyone who needs a sweet pick me up this weekend.

His Bewildered Mate by Brea Alepoú

True mates are found in the most unlikely of places.

Rhy, a weretiger with a heart so big, that when an elderly woman comes in looking for her lost cat, Mr. Fluffkins, Rhy knew he had to help. He had no way of knowing that it would lead him to his true mate.

Dillan (Mr. Fluffkins), has lived his whole life wishing he was more than just a cat. He never felt right walking around on four paws. He tried to be a normal cat; tried to talk to other animals but it wasn’t possible. They couldn’t think in full sentences or communicate. It was more of feeling they had then what they thought. He watched television, so he could studying humans and what they did. He wanted to interact like humans. His owners showed one another so much love and were always doing something together. Dillan ached to have what they have.

Love, loss, and tender moments. A dream to have the one person that completes you.

Warning** Slow burn. This book is shifter Mpreg pregnancy is mentioned in this book. this is the first book of the series. The series will need to be read in order, as new couples will be introduced but old one’s stories will continue. They will be intertwined. This is a HEA.

What’s up?

I have spent the last 2 weeks really chill. Very calm. Even got a tooth infection last week, but I’m doing really well. Just calm, chill, trying to get used to realizing my body has been tense as fuck forever. I put some blue fairy lights up in the porch I’ve been using as a writing room, and it’s like hanging out in sapphire while listening to some great, calming music. I’m obsessed with Metric at the moment, the album “Grow up and Blow Away” usually playing in the background.

I haven’t had a single Parkinson’s symptom since I started this calm down experiment. When I notice my stress levels rising, or that I’m pushing myself too hard, I stop, I relax, I unwind the rock my stomach has turned into, and I’m good.

Amazingly enough, because of this, I’ve stopped thinking of myself as sick. I haven’t been thinking in terms of I have Parkinson’s or mold toxicity or even PTSD. I’ve just been thinking, oh, that feels stressful on my body. Let’s not have all that stress. It’s doing good things for how I think about myself, where I’m not labeling myself with these pretty big, unpleasant illnesses 24-7, and I’m not narrating giant hoops I need to jump through to be allowed to feel okay. It’s just about not stressing.

Learning to write calmly

I updated a couple of fanfics on the website the last two weeks. I also added these really quick to read dates so you can see the last time a story was updated at a glance. What else… I’ve had a few breakthroughs on the writing front. Now that I could see that I was putting so much pressure on my writing, I was able to kind of side step some of that pressure. But only some.

Last night I had a mini epiphany about a big issue with my creativity. I had been digging up these outlines I have of stories I want to make—I love these stories—but I feel so overwhelmed every time I look at them. I don’t know if you peeps remember what happened to me a little while back. Instafreebie had decided to feature Blackthorne and I had a mini freak out. The book wasn’t well put together. In the matter of a week, I made a new cover, and started editing the 100,000 word book, rewriting large chunks of it. And I was killing myself—I was still sick, and here I was breaking myself over something stupid as fuck. And once it was pointed out to me, I stopped. I let it go… and I haven’t looked at editing Blackthorne since.

It was all or nothing.

I have this habit where everything I do is climbing a mountain. It was why I stopped digital painting. I know what it takes to get to the end of a polished, highly realistic painting. I know the steps, I know the hours on hours put in, and I know I can get to that ending and have an amazing product. But I don’t want to do the work because, unlike normal people who can pace themselves and do other things while they create, I’m a fucking psycho who wants to sprint to the finish line right at the beginning of a marathon. I don’t know how to balance my creative endeavors. It’s why they always seemed so rushed—I was rushing to get everything down before I became too exhausted to keep the pace.

I have no idea how to be anything else, partially because this habit was created out of me being stuck in PTSD mode. My body cannot survive that type of creative process. Plain and simple. But my psyche cannot survive a world without creativity either. So I need to figure out how to flow, how to pace myself, how to have fun, how to stop and be able to start up later after doing something else. I have to stop trying to be a writing machine—I’m too organic to be any good at it. XD

Right now, when I look at all the stories I want to write, all I’m seeing are mountains because that’s what I turn each project into. I’m hoping if I can see that each project is just a little bit of calm time spent enjoying myself—you know, a nice walk instead of an exhausting climb—I’ll start looking at creating differently.

I guess we’ll see how it goes… The last few weeks have been amazing. I didn’t even think I could get this far in just relaxing. I feel like a different person, someone I didn’t even know was here, allowed to exist. I thought it was normal to feel super alert all the time. Now, I can see it was just PTSD that I thought was normal. Life the last few weeks has been feeling a bit like being drugged and happy (without the drugs) because I can be alert in the world, in my life, without being tense at the same time. I just never knew it was a possibility until now.

Hope you’re all doing well! ^.^