Audiobooks and Perfectionism

I think I’ve finally reached the point where I can just post audio without it being perfect. Sometimes I have to trick my brain into shit–if you lived in my head, you’d understand. I need to call it a ‘draft’ and ensure I mark it accordingly, and if I do that, I will be able to record and put the rest of the audiobooks up–possibly every single one of them–this week.

A thing happened today, one of those wake up things in life. I found myself sleeping on the cleanroom floor as allergies once again took over the main living space so completely, my heart rate wouldn’t return to normal until I locked myself in the cleanroom. I don’t think I’m waiting for ‘perfect’ when I’m waiting for livable, but the reality is, most of the shit I’ve done when it comes to writing and art, for that matter, was while living in mold under extreme stress as my brain was overrun with neurotoxins and my dopamine system was breaking down. I have done nothing while life has been in any sense of the word perfect, and expecting that I’m somehow going to get more things done if only my existence could be momentarily comfortable just isn’t really realistic.

This body is broken–it overreacts to most every thing now. The dream of affording a house that isn’t full of mold is pretty low, unless I want to magically have a fuck ton of cash and move completely away from the state I grew up in to find some low humidity either freezing cold or boiling hot area to live where mold is less likely to grow. I built the cleanroom understanding that; sometimes you have to make your space because it’s just not going to be handed to you. The stars do not align– not in shitshow 2020.

This is still going to be a struggle for me–not the audiobooks, I can already feel I’m past that. I’ve given myself a bridge to cross with the idea of making drafts that will eventually be edited up nicely, but until then, it’s something–anything–to improve accessibility for all readers. No, perfectionism–the dream of being allowed to have my brain when I’m writing certain stories so they can be the best they can be. That’s going to be a lot harder to overcome. But it’s my job as a human being who needs to accept the limits my body and environment place on me to do the work and deal with it as it strikes.

So, yeah, expect a lot of audiobooks being posted this week and the next. Each chapter will be marked clearly visibly as either draft or not– if there’s music at the beginning, it’s a completed edited audio chapter, if not, then it’s a draft. Simple. I’ll be rerecording some of the original audiobooks too where I was just learning the system and fiddled with things that conceptually seemed really fucking cool, but I did not have the skill/knowledge to pull off–looking at you, I’ll Tell with your weird voice mods.

Hope you’re all doing well. Depending on if that solar flare hits tomorrow, this shit might all be moot anyways. 😉

LEAVE A COMMENT

Cool Things a Brew’n!

Hey peeps, thought I’d check in. I had this stretch where the cleanroom failed when I changed the airflow, and it took a while to figure it all out. But it’s all set now — I’ve got an office and I’m just going to have to give up on the whole bedroom thing for the moment. There’s just something ‘wrong’ in that room no matter what I do, no matter the mold treatments, etc, and I just don’t have the expertise (or energy) to make it work. Figured out CO2 levels though, and that’s been an interesting puzzle seeing as it’s much harder when dealing with a fully sealed room to keep CO2 at safe levels. Gotta love a learning curve. 😉

More interestingly, I’ve been taking some time to look at the poor abandoned stories and fanfics that haven’t been finished after all this time. I mean, for real, fuck. Where did the time go??? @[email protected] I feel like I kept waiting to feel well enough, assuming that I’d find this whim and just finish things up, but it never happened. It’s shit.

I’ve been organizing things, going through my notes, and my plan is to get back on track. I want to get the next episode of Demon Bonded out, not to mention update City Howls and finish it (but probably only once the next couple of PATB Serial books are done.) But also Awakening! And the Fanfics!!! They’re just sitting there, so many unfinished, and I realized I hadn’t even planned to turn them into audiobooks when I was claiming I wanted to create a more accessible site. It would be pretty cool to turn them into ebooks in general just so people could download the fanfics for free and read them whenever they want…

So yeah, plans are a brewing, and I’m in the stages of assessing it all and seeing what’s coming next once I get a feel for the scope of everything. I’m going to need a new external hard drive– audio apparently takes up a lot of fucking space compared to simple text files. ^^; Who knew? XD Hope you’re all doing well and staying safe during this long ass global pandemic. I’m pretty sure it’s never going to end for me in the US (too many sociopathic assholes normalizing ignorance) but hopefully anyone living in the rest of the globe is fairing better and seeing things start to lighten up now.

LEAVE A COMMENT

Hey, A Cover!

So, I didn’t set out to make a cover for this story. I just wanted a picture for the website because I just finished making the audiobook and wanted, you know, something. But apparently my brain is a monster, and once I started, it just would not let me stop until it looked respectable. I think it’s rather pretty if not a bit surreal. It suits Vince — Vincent’s mind is either a mess of monsters or beauty, with very little concrete for him to grasp to… which kinda makes dating a shadow fox shifter who naturally camouflages rather fitting, now that I think of it… hmm.

Anywho, off to figure out wtf to do next. This is the first time running my graphics PC in the office bubble cleanroom. The room heated up a fair amount, even with the AC on, and nothing has cooled it off since. Doesn’t help that the sun hits this side of the house constantly at the worst temperatures. Not sure what to do about it. It’s not horrendous levels. I think just being sick so long has made me really sensitive to temperature changes.

I want to write some erotica. Something short, offensive, and finished. I feel like I need to remember how to just throw myself into a story and get to the end again. Task completion combined with wading in the dark woods to find the path.

LEAVE A COMMENT

Living In A Bubble

Okay, the Hellcat audiobook is finally done, whoot! Uh, I’ve got some things to plan as I figure out which direction to go next. I’m feeling better– a lot better — and I want to start writing the next PATB episode. But I’ve been doing these audiobooks as an accessibility thing for the site, not just as a fun perk, so it’s not something I want to just drop, you know? I created a bubble/cleanroom in my house to separate me from any of the mold, and it’s been working. I pump fresh, filtered air in, and the mold is sealed away from any living space. So my health is going to hold. This is an answer, one I’m surprised is working this well, and the sky is the limit at this point.

I suspect what’s going to happen as I switch into writing again, is that I’ll be doing these audio chapters in the background, likely not as elaborate recordings as these currently are. You might not realize it, but a lot of these sentences are run through the text to speech synthesizer multiple times to get a recording that sounds appropriate for the story. A lot of times the voice sounds tone deaf to the content, and I have to go in and adjust until I find the right version. So, it’s not that I won’t be doing the audiobooks, but I likely won’t be as detail oriented. The recording should all sound good in general; I feel like I finally got a good quality all around. There might just be some wonky spots that don’t flow as well (the software is horrible with rhetorical questions, for one. @[email protected])

It’s my birthday tomorrow, and I feel like I’m at this crossroads and reassessing everything in my life. But I’m thinking if my health holds, I’ll start sharing schedules, that sort of thing, so that members can get a clear idea of my work load and what’s coming next. It’s something I avoided in the past because it put this level of pressure on me that was completely unrealistic given my health problems. But now, it seems more like a way to stay on task and remember all those projects that have kind of fallen in the dust to my exhaustion. We’ll play it by ear and see how it goes (see if the country I’m in is still standing, because believe me if Trump turns the military on the protestors, it doesn’t matter how sick I feel, that’s the shit I gotta go out and march against.) So yeah, I guess we’ll see where life takes us. 😉

I hope you’re all well, all safe, and staying smart with the whole global pandemic.

LEAVE A COMMENT

White Mold

Hey guys. I wanted to give you a heads up cuz I’m not sure how things are going to be going from here on in.

So my health was degrading rather quickly the last week. I wasn’t sure what it was—I thought my adrenals were failing for some reason, maybe they were stressed, whatever. During this time some ceiling tiles fell in the basement where there is a half finished bathroom set up down there. We rent the place so we just, you know, cleaned up the immediate mess and didn’t think much about WHY the ceiling tiles fell. I started getting more and more tired and smelling this weird dust whenever I passed my brother’s bedroom, then the other day I took a walk to the basement to do some laundry and checked in on that weird little bathroom, and by the time I got upstairs it felt like I was either moments from hallucinating or dropping.

The guys took the ceiling tiles down and found mold—white mold. So, it’s not the same type of mold (black mold) that took over my bedroom and living room over a year ago that spring. It’s less toxic, and because the weather is cooler and humidity is low, there is less chance that it’ll take root into the main house. But even when they removed the ceiling tiles, they found the mold still on the wood, and it exposed it to the basement room, and it was getting into the main house and my brain was sparking, leaving me a twitching mess.

I am okay. I am not great, I am not ‘well’ and I am not myself, but I am okay, and that’s the main thing to focus on. Right now I’m having difficulty with reading, with perceiving individual elements in a group, with focusing, with neurosis, and some weird moments of random anxiety and paranoia. I’m combating a lot of the exhaustion by increasing my adrenal support, and most of my funding is going into clean up for the moment. I’m not writing. I don’t trust my brain, and I can’t focus atm. I’m hhoping this will change eventually, but I also know that mold and me don’t do well together and there is a reality to my condition I have to face. I do not know when I will be recovered enough to be able to write to the level I feel confident at—my vocabulary is shrinking so quickly, it’s alarming.

The landlord has said he will fund whatever professionals we hire, so we need to get the ball rolling. And we’ve already done a lot to get the house uh… separated… what’s the word? Sectioned off? We basically blocked off all the vents that connect to the basement, lined the upstairs floor with plastic sheeting (hardwood floors with potential cracks between the slats that the neurotoxins could permeate through into our rooms) and am currently wiping all the upstairs down with vinegar and using box fans in the windows to suck the contaminated air outside. The uh… fuck, I’m just staring at the screen spacing out. We got uh… lucky. We got lucky that the weather was surprisingly warm. 60 degrees in March—freaking lucky—and even though it’s nighttime, we’re still sending the air out and it’s cold, but it’s not freezing. But I don’t know how long that can hold. We shut all the vents, sealed them with cardboard and tape to prevent mold moving through (and it was, hardcore) but that means we have no working heater at the moment. It’s also been very frustrating because people are hoarding masks because of the corona virus they don’t even had and I can’t find anything to protect me from breathing in the mold that we do actually have. >_> It’s not a great time to need face masks.

Uh… I think that’s it… I’m spending most of my days in my car again— even less glamorous in the winter. >_> But it’s something. It’s survival. Depending on the level of mold remediation that will be done, this could be solved and we can stay, or when my royalties finally come in for PATB Serial in the next two months, that might be put into a desperate blind move just to get away from the mold. I cannot predict the future; but I can promise that I haven’t given up. I know you’ve all been waiting so long to see these stories continue, and I hope you can tell that even though I got sick for so long last time, I still showed up the moment I got my brain back. I have the knowledge and tools I need to heal now, and although it is a process that will take the time that it takes, I will return to writing. It’s everything to me.

LEAVE A COMMENT

It’s live!!!

Super quick email today. Just wanted to let you know that episode #2 of PATB Serial just went live, so for those who preordered, you can crack it open now, and anyone waiting for KU, it’s in there full of suspense, shifters, and a crazy, explosive love now that Wylie gets his first glimpse of Dorian.

Also, on a side note, Theodore has become my temperamental badass and I’m loving him for it. 😉

I’ll have a proper newsletter this weekend. Got a mini cover reveal, among other things–there are so many awesome books that dropped this week I need to share. I feel like I’m still playing catch up with everything… Actually, I feel like I’m kicking my own ass with this write a book a month pace, and I might have to slow the fuck down. I just wanted to let you all know that the book is actually out there (and I’m still alive. @[email protected])

Hope you’re all doing well! ^.^ I’m still completely anti Valentine’s Day. It’s a great day for self love, not going to any kind of restaurant (seriously, restaurants are the worst on Valentine’s Day,) and remembering that society can suck their expectations of what love is. XD I’m gonna go curl up with a shifter (nope, that’s a cat >_>) and wait this day out. Possibly with hot cocoa. 😉

I’m me again!♥

Turns out the final missing link was progesterone. I knew my body had a genetic mutation that made it hard for it to create progesterone, but everything else seemed so much more important and I got out of the habit of taking it. I restarted the supplementation last week, and yeah, it’s like the world clicked into focus. Time is moving so slow because my brain is alert and recording it all. I had no idea how progesterone impacted my memory and mental clarity, or just how it was connected to being able to feel and be motivated. I’m waking up in the morning, getting things done that used to feel exhausting like it’s nothing– like I’m just living life.

I am full of so much damn gratitude to have found this place. I look at my writing and it makes sense– the doubts and confusion are gone. I’ve found my joy again and I am writing up a storm, peeps. Nothing can get in my way anymore and I’m looking to fly!♥

LEAVE A COMMENT

Hey, babes!

So, some cool shit. You can read the first 2 scenes of Demon Bonded: Episode #12 up on the free part of the website. That page will be updated every time more of the story is, so feel free to check in whenever.

Wendy has a new book out, just released, that’s looking damn cool. It’s in KU for all you peeps who enjoy that program during these tough times. Check it.

 

Omega Chattel

At Zilly’s Chattel Farm, Alli is seen as an upstart Omega. But in reality, he is the victim of a brutal house-dad who wants to control him. Threatened with being institutionalized when he turns eighteen, Alli runs away.

Tarin is an Alpha who runs a small school from his own home for wayward Omegas. Three or four students at a time are all he can handle and his home is full. But when he meets Alli on the streets, he is compelled to bring him home.

Alli wants a better future for himself, better than selling himself on the streets, so he agrees to be a student, when what he really wants is Tarin himself. Tarin doesn’t sleep with his Omega students, and the one exception he made broke his heart.

But Alli is persistent. And not only does Tarin have a weakness for broken young men, there seems to be a spontaneous bond forming between them. The combination is turning hotter faster than they can keep up.

Non-shifter omegaverse, fated mates, age gap, virgin, knotting/bonding, high steam, HEA.

 

Back to Writing

I’m starting up writing again, and gonna be real, it’s a bit like wrestling my brain to focus… through barbed wire… while on fire. >_> While jumping back into Demon Bonded, which has been ignored far too fucking long, I came up with a super cute story focused on the apprentices. It’ll be a little mini side story… er, spin off? from the Demon Bonded world.

See, I had this really fun Liem story where he finally chooses a demon after being burned with his experience with Fido/Brave and that douchebag Tobias, but it was its own thing, you know? It felt more than a bonus story, more than just a little side thing, and it was going to be long enough to be multiple episodes—something I’ve never done with a bonus story. And, as we jump into the Aeternum, where Ky meets the apprentices of the time, I realized I really wanted to make a thief apprentice there to mad steal from the sorcerers of Blackstone Falls.

So, I thought, hey, why not just make it all its own thing where, well, Demon Bonded Apprentices are the focus. Liem can be his sadistic self as he tries to be a better person (while being a total asshole to the more dickish apprentices) and winning over a rather wild, violent relic who is very reluctant to trust anyone, and we could also have this super cute Cade sorcerer come in, playing dumb as he infiltrates the apprentice mentor program, while looking to get everything he can from the peeps running a demon slave trade out of the small town.

I don’t think it’ll be a super long story. Like, maybe five episodes tops… but it’s hard to say. You never know, sometimes characters do their own things and surprise you. Cade definitely has his eye on someone, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to steal him too by the time it’s all written. <3

Right now, I’m clinging to the creativity I’m feeling to help pull me through the damn misery of trying to organize my brain to write again. I was working on the interactive choose your own adventure, but realized it was only becoming this loop where I didn’t know how to move forward, so I decided I needed a more linear story to focus on for the moment. This mold thing is fucking hard—it’s like every time it hits, I have to remake my brain all over again to function the way I want. But fuck, it beats looking at the damn news and predicting a horrendous future, so yeah, gotta do the work. Gotta push through and just keep working at it until things flow again. I’m hoping I’ll be myself by the time I finish the Demon Bonded/Demon Bonded Apprentices episodes to jump right into the 3rd PATB episode.

 

Office!

Oh, shit, I finished setting up my office! It’s so weird to realize I haven’t done a newsletter in so long. @[email protected] Uh, I basically set up these dry erase note cards all over my office. One set is the completed outline of the next episode of PATB—yeah, I’m on that shit, just waiting for my brain to show up. (The energy needs some tweaking in the first part of the episode, just kinda dragging right now.) The other is focused on Demon Bonded, while I got an entire wall divided between fanfics, WIPs and audiobooks.

I realized this summer that not only did visuals help me comprehend what I had on my plate creatively, but it also made it more manageable. I’ve been doing a lot of things to find ways for anything but my brain to hold onto the info I’ve been juggling all this time in my head. With the way dopamine is lowered from allergy response, and the brain swelling and plain old neurological scrambling that comes along with mold exposure, having external constants where I can just reference my own notes about my books makes writing so much easier. Which I’m learning the hard way this week when writing Demon Bonded and realized I gotta stop and make an actual reference, otherwise this just isn’t going to happen. I already did this with PATB, which is why I was able to bang those two novels out—I had reference at my fingertips. But of course I forgot that was why until I failed to have that reference for Demon Bonded. @[email protected]

It feels like this annoying busy work keeping me from what I want to do, but at the same time, I know if I don’t create a reference, I’m not going to move forward. (fucking adulting for a scrambled brain.) I hate it—it is so boring taking notes of my own stories—but I seriously can’t remember enough to not do the work.

So, yeah, that’s me. My cleanroom bubble is working, and as long as I stay out of moldy buildings, I’m pretty much 100%. It’s just getting my brain to remember the neurological pathways to do the shit it’s good at. Started up bullet journaling again, too.

Honestly, I watched my dad go through dementia, and I had to follow after him, you know, just see the trail of consequences of having a brain that just doesn’t want to do what it needs to do when his kidneys started failing. I am doing everything I can to not default there. It’s not fun. It is always going to feel like work. And if it’s easier on my loved ones, then yeah, I will do the damn work every single time. It becomes a series of habits to keep your head straight after something like this. Ideally, those habits will become default. But if they don’t, they don’t, so it’s better now to build a life where those habits are normalized and set into focus to get the best chance you can at healing.

 

Peace

Hope you peeps are doing well. I could tell you a zillion horror stories of all my fears since the US Congress decided they didn’t have to protect and support the American people during covid 19 and they just took a fucking month long vaca while letting unemployment insurance drop when our numbers are at a world wide worst, but yeah, with my brain the way it is, I gotta focus on less upsetting things. (but if a revolution is happening anytime soon, count me in.)

Shit’s tough. I think I get by helping others the little that I can. There’s something about feeling part of a community during a time when you see every thing working to divide us that feels a positive rebellion of its own. A smile is a rebellion against the assholes of the world. I don’t know when it became ‘everyone for themselves’ in this country of mine, but it’s a pretty disgusting, sociopathic mentality that has no place in crisis—it has no place in the future of humanity. We’re all in this together, whether we like it or not, so better to show up and be good to each other. At least, that’s my motto of the moment. 😉

Hope you’re all safe, all healthy, all happy.

Hey babes, I’m alive.

It’s been over two months since I checked in. >_> Sorry. Things are actually pretty good. It’s hard to put it in perspective because of how the country has been so crazy — I’m in the US with covid cases jumping up again as we ‘reopen,’ (why yes, we’re run by morons) and we’re in the middle of some long needed and 100% justified civil rights protests to support Black Lives Matter. It’s kinda hard to want to write anything about myself right now, because I feel like a grain of sand in the middle of these huge moments in history.

I’m a doer, a problem solver. When something breaks, I immediately think of a million ways to fix it, and then I experiment until I get the solution that works. So it’s hard to live in a country where fixing things isn’t a thing. We talk about innovation in the US, but all we innovate is how to part money from people’s wallets. It’s never about real change, and this place becomes ugly and decaying and stagnant as a result. There are so many in pain, living on vapors their entire lives who are never heard, never represented in this country. Sanders being brought down by status quo Joe Biden, the most conservative mouthpiece in the Democratic party — it breaks me every time to see how pathetic this country is for what we settle for while claiming we’re revolutionaries. (The revolution of sitting on our asses bitching about pointless shit. :/)

I’m really proud of the protests, of the changes being demanded, and I truly hope they don’t stop until real change comes. I have no love for the police, and even less respect or trust. No one’s life should be put above another, and no system should be in place to do exactly that.

But yeah, speaking of solving problems.

 

I made myself a cleanroom/bubble…

I transformed my moldy bedroom and living room into an allergy free zone by building an internal structure out of PVC pipe and wrapping it all in plastic sheeting, basically a bubble inside the room. I ensured there was enough space all around so that the bubble didn’t touch the walls, creating a channel of air where the AC and heater could continue to temperature control all around the bubble. Also sectioned it off from the rest of the main house to ensure that any of that moldy air wouldn’t mix with the non cleanroom living space.

I then used an air scrubber to pull air in through one intake into a sectioned off area in the bubble (basically zippered it off) where the air is then filtered and pushed out into the cleanroom through these really simple vents I made with the plastic sheeting. It creates the positive air flow required to make this work, (because air scrubbers naturally create a negative air flow that would readily pull all the moldy air from outside into the space if not careful.) There are two exhausts of the filtered air, one going into the office area, and the other into the bedroom area, that way, each room can be shut off from each other just in case the worst happens and one is compromised with mold/allergens. And if it is contaminated, I can just unhook the air scrubber and run it in the infected room to suck up the allergens.

(Note: Air scrubbers have been sold out for months because there’s false information going on out there that they can filter covid out of the air. They cannot. If you are seriously worried about covid, there is a cheep, effective solution in the purchase of an ozone machine. I’ve used them to break down allergens for years now, but they also kill coronavirus, including the covid-19 strain. Read the instructions; ozone is dangerous to health and lung function so don’t breathe the shit in. But yeah, ozone– cheep machines versus throwing big money down on shit that won’t even work. I don’t know why people keep getting info wrong, but damn, it keeps fucking up my ability to get basic stuff for allergy survival. @[email protected])

Anyways, I now officially have an office, all focused on my writing and art. I can turn a wall into my outlines and no one will complain. XD Oh, I missed having my own room. Living on top of people (messy people, at that) can get tiring really quick.

I’m waiting on a latex mattress for the bedroom. They’re supposed to be really good with people who have allergies and multiple chemical sensitivity. I had to throw out my old mattress years back when it was destroyed by the black mold. But even this, just having the cleanrooms and spending most of my time in them, my health has bounced back. I can read again. Like sit down, and get lost in a book, and not have it feel like my brain can’t focus. I’m looking forward to seeing how that translates to editing, actually… I’m not ‘cured.’ Aka, a lungful of mold still knocks me on my ass, same with me having insomnia and itching all over if the cats so much as jump on a place I end up sleeping. But I recover much faster, and am able to hit *okay* instead of *less sick* when I do recover.

The landlord had sent in a mold remediation crew a couple months back, but my allergies were just too far gone by then. I think some bodies just build neurotoxins up and can’t clear them out after a mold exposure the way others can. I gained so much weight when the white mold took over, it really is like the body can’t let anything go. The dust, the cats— everything was setting me off. I was living in the car, and reacting to any air that got in. It was pretty shit, all in all. But this worked. And it’s not just the way my health is better that’s been so awesome about this, but how it’s lifted a psychological weight from me.

I know mold is everywhere. The wind blows and there’s mold; I might as well be allergic to air. I have never lived in a house or apartment free of mold, and I was seeing this narrow path of misery laid out in front of me of trying to run from mold and gaining only small moments between being knocked out. But now I know I can build a cleanroom anywhere and create a bubble of fresh air. It’s not horrendously expensive, and it’s portable. It’s like being given the keys to my own life, and I’m full of so much gratitude for having found this solution.

 

Interactive Novels

(aka, adult choose your own adventure books)

Having a space to literally breathe has changed everything, and I’m being deliberately slow in getting back into life as I try to adjust. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve got plenty to be distracted about. My PTSD is on high alert with all the news, so I’ve been tasking myself with finding ways to have fun —more importantly, remember what fun is. @[email protected] I’m currently outlining an adult choose your own adventure.

I realized as much as I want to do a visual novel, there are just too many elements that were overwhelming me and keeping me from even trying to move forward. Art, coding an entirely different medium— it’s a lot for my mold bruised brain. But a simple choose your own adventure? Way easier.

I doing the dragon gangbang story, using it as one of the paths to multiple different opportunities and storylines. And it’s been crazy fun just to plot out. Like, once I decided on areas in the underground, on specific dragon species in each area, certain required items needed such as a crowbar, an amulet, a flashlight, it was so easy to start coming up with all these different ideas. And I don’t want to talk too much about it, because I don’t want to give anything away! XD I’m doing a secret, bonus branch that you can unlock that will take the reader on a totally different route!!! Gah, it’s so fun just thinking about it.

Focusing on trying to fit as many taboo sexy scenes/scenarios in there as possible has been half the joy of this. It’s really the strategy of creating the story and trying to design something fun as fuck for the reader that’s been the most interesting part. Here’s a little idea of my outlining process. I’m using Scapple, which has been so perfect in conceptualizing and organizing it all. (the text should be too fuzzy to read, but it’s all early stuff, so if shouldn’t matter anyways.)

What else… Oh, I finished the Hellcat audiobook which members of the site can listen to. Also did the same for Fox Claims Vince, and finally made a cover for it. I’m still doing the audiobooks while working on the interactive story. It’s really important to me that I make the site more accessible. Now that I can read again, I realize just how much I lost during that time, and I want to make sure anyone else who might be struggling in such a way has a ready option.

I do this thing where I stress myself out with these lofty goals every time I get healthy again, partially because I see me not feeling sick as these little windows that I have to sprint through or they’re wasted. But when you’re healthy, life is more a marathon, and I don’t really know how to balance my time or set appropriate goals that won’t burn me out. It’s something I’m going to have to learn. Don’t get me wrong, I love the ambition and the challenge of my work and doing things like writing a novel a month, but this is also in the middle of a global pandemic and civil rights movement months before one of the most consequential elections of my lifetime to date. Will the US finally get a vote by mail system that’s accessible to all, or are we watching what’s left of democracy crumble into the ocean?

 

Figuring out how to survive this political shitshow

July is quickly approaching when the covid 19 unemployment benefits of, you know, basic living wage that has been like a lottery in my house will run out, and I’m looking at all the bills I deliberately didn’t pay the last months because I knew the moment covid hit, that this cliff would be inevitable, and it’s better to have enough $ now to eat than throw away on bills early on, no matter the debt accrued. Covid has not magically cured itself or disappeared with the hot weather. There is no 100% guarantee that a vaccine will be viable, and if it is, not for 6 months to a year. It’s a really stressful time, as I’m sure lots of people are experiencing right now, especially those without financial support.

If you’re not up to date, or even better, if you live in a country who cares about their citizens, Congress is basically leaving us to die in America. More than half of the people in Congress are millionaires who have no perspective to the wealth inequality they’re creating. Those with enough money to work from home have no idea what it’s like to have a job where you’re asked to go die so that other people can have groceries or gas or fast food. For every person who readily wears a mask, there is another who refuses to, will walk into businesses, get into people’s faces and will not be stopped from coughing or sneezing or contaminating others, including the workers who have to be there.

Our government should be paying us to stay home and uphold the public health to prevent an overburdening of hospitals, but instead they looted our taxes and handed it to the largest corporations in the country to bail them out, and they’re letting the citizens fail, ensuring that we will not be economically sound enough to do the job of staying home and upholding public health. Partly why some people want to go to work right now in America is because they don’t have any food, they don’t have any income, and they have no way to get it. They’re being kicked out of their houses and apartments because they can’t pay to stay there. They have kids who need to eat, and have nothing— losing school meant losing the school lunch program for families in need. Entire states are refusing to pay unemployment benefits because they don’t want to give the tax money collected from citizens back to their citizens. They want the people to go to work like a global pandemic isn’t happening at all, no matter who dies.

And as stark as that is, it’s leading to a larger, even worse problem, because the economic classes are being divided greater than ever before. Wealth has changed hands exponentially where the stock market and fortune 500 companies have seen their greatest gains in decades while citizens are kicked out of their homes and lost businesses and jobs. The mismanagement of covid relief from the government is leading to hundreds of thousands of small businesses shutting down completely because little to nothing was enacted to support their payrolls, to ensure workers would have jobs to go to after this is all done. And larger businesses gobbled up the money whenever a loophole was available. Even when the big businesses gave the money back, that went right into the government’s pocket, not to the small businesses that needed it. Fresh graduates have no jobs to go to, unless they want a pittance and to risk their lives and the lives of their families as an essential worker as they clutch their expensive degrees.

My country is looking at a cataclysm of wealth inequality that will be felt for the next decade, easy, with businesses who don’t uphold human rights like Amazon taking over our infrastructure (pretty sure we’re going to see the Post Office destroyed and Amazon put in place) and Bezos looking to be the first trillionaire ever. All while small businesses are wiped out and those running them won’t be able to get credit or cash to revive them because the banks are playing favorites and no one is stopping them. And we’re given a joke of a candidate against Trump, a man who wants to turn things back to 4 years ago to a time that led us to exactly why we ended up with Trump and the wealth divide we have. The government is infested with corporatists wearing either blue or red political signs and claiming they’re going to fix things while they keep bleeding the American people dry.

The reality is, we have a government who doesn’t care about the lives of their people. And it’s not a new problem. It’s why health care only goes to those who can afford it in the richest country in the world. Why you need a fucking job to be allowed to have healthcare—how insane as millions upon millions of Americans are removed from their employment and they lose their healthcare all in one go during covid. They did nothing to stop it from happening and they don’t care that in a global pandemic Americans can’t afford to go to a doctor. This is why drug patents are paid for by our government and then handed for free to pharmaceutical companies who then charge gigantic profits on every American who needs that drug. My diabetic brother is getting a first hand lesson of watching his insulin prices jump up during covid — when people have less money — all because the pharmaceutical companies are allowed to gouge us until we’re literally dead. It’s why minimum wage is not a living wage, and hasn’t been for years. It’s why black individuals can be shot and murdered by police again and again while they try to survive in an economic genocide that’s been going on since slaves were freed centuries ago. It’s why our prisons are for profit and not for rehabilitation.

Our government doesn’t care if we live. And when that’s the reality, the next best thing you can get is for your government to be terrified of the people. The protests are important, and even more so are the riots, and I am happy to support whoever is going out there risking attack by equipment and strategies made for war as unarmed protesters fight against the tyranny of their militarized, tax funded police force. The government shouldn’t be comfortable— no one should be comfortable right now until every single person is allowed to be as safe as the most wealthiest among us.

Change can happen, but only if we’re willing to be uncomfortable, and willing to let go of our collective apathy.

So yeah, shit is grim. I don’t have any glasses rose colored enough to make this not stink like the shit it is. And because my brain is far too aware of exactly all of this, I need to find coping strategies like focusing on how to have fun. And once this adult choose your own adventure book is made, maybe it will help others have a little fun too — because fuck, we all need some damn fun. Revolutions aren’t won in a day. This fucking battle for equality has been going on my entire lifetime and far longer before it. We gotta live, even as we continue to fight the good fight.

Oh, and if you have issues with an erotic author speaking about politics, you can suck my clit. I don’t care about your minuscule discomfort when people are out there literally being murdered for existing while black. If you haven’t figured out what I stand for yet, see my bluntness as a gift.

Hope you’re all safe. Hope you’re all healthy, and being smart, and not risking you or the lives of your community by being fucktards mid global pandemic. We’re all in this together (whether we like it or not.) We are only as strong as our willingness to raise up the weakest. This pandemic is because of our horrendous approach to environmentalism, an approach that will be repeated no matter which candidate in the US is elected because they both don’t give a fuck about the changes that need to happen. So hopefully we will find some real problem solvers to step up, because this apathy and looting of the country as it decays just isn’t working. Enough is enough.

Hey peeps,

I wanted to check in and let you all know that I have some new audiobooks up on the website, many of them free. So far there’s

Demon Bonded: Demencious Saga

Demon Bonded: Apprentice Saga

I’ll Tell: A Blackmailing Stepbrother Romance

The Autumn Prince (members only)

I’m recording Hellcat: Mated To The Demon Prince atm. One of the longer novels, I’m hoping to have it on the website soon depending on how well I can keep my focus. I’m also eyeballing certain tech and having different ideas about how to proceed. I stopped to try something different with I’ll Tell, where I attempted to alter the voices so that they would sound like different characters… but I don’t think it really worked because of the synthetic voice base.

Oh, Wendy has a new book out! It’s a continuation of her Omega Misfits series.

Alpha’s Embrace

I am Misha.

My name was given to me at birth by the doctor who delivered me. I have never known my parents. I live in a ten by ten space with one window, a sink and toilet, a bed and a locked door. Once a day I’m taken to an outdoor exercise area. I am allowed a limited access tablet and tutored online by computer programs. I have one friend I talk to through a tiny crack in the wall. His name is Cedric and he has trouble keeping himself quiet. When he isn’t talking to me about monsters and demons, he screams all the time.

Why is my life so isolated and depressing? Because I am a Sylph. Sylphs are the byproduct of illegal Omega to Omega matings. We are all beautiful, but 99.9% are born insane. The rarest of Sylphs, like me, show no outward signs of madness or brain damage, but we live in institutions because we cannot be trusted.

All of us Sylphs who have lived long enough to pass through puberty have hypersexual disorder which makes life even more difficult for us, let alone our keepers. It is like something Alphas call the Burn, a mating urge Alphas experience once every couple of months.

But we’re Sylphs, not Alphas, and this Burn thing? We experience it all the time. It’s a huge problem and why we are kept isolated. Most of us don’t survive through our teens because of it.

One day, a handsome Alpha comes to interview and study me. He calls himself the Chief of Staff but his real name is Geo. Like magic, I fall in love with him instantly. I do everything I can to seduce him. He will have none of it because touch between an Alpha and a Sylph is taboo. But I have plans. No matter what, I intend to bond him and make him mine. Forever.

 

catching up

So after a month of me living in the car, things have finally been settled between the landlord and homeowners insurance, etc and we got some mold people to come in and clean things up. They started yesterday. Won’t be 100% done until Monday (I think.) I’m having some misgivings about the whole thing, one being that no one found out how water got in the house and therefore we have no way of knowing if there’s a leak or something. >_> And one mold group said there was mold in the insulation under my bedroom, while this mold group says there isn’t, and, yeah… since they won’t remove the insulation, that might be a serious issue, depending on if it’s moldy or not.

I don’t know. I don’t understand half-assing something like this. No inspector to figure out how water got in — I don’t understand why someone would spend thousands while not actually ensuring the job is done right to prevent needing to spend thousands later. I’m thinking about making a bubble in the house once the mold peeps are done, see if that might be useful… >_>

So yeah, that’s the news I woke up to and just shit I gotta deal with. Being sick has made it really hard to advocate for myself in a reasonable way—I want to yell a lot. It’s like my default. My brain is swollen and all I want to do is yell about shit. And don’t get me started about what’s happening in the world, cuz I got plenty of rage for the ineptness and stupidity and criminal ignorance that has led to such shitty responses to the virus. But I’m not going to talk about that shit— or much shit at all, because I’m just angry and tired and broken about everything.

Anyways… Err…

I haven’t been able to write, but I’m enjoying making the audiobooks. I found some cool software to try different voices, but my Internet connection just doesn’t seem to be steady enough for it. I can’t believe Hellcat is nearly done — it felt like such a big project but it really didn’t take too long. I’m just being slow cuz of the edit. The synthetic voice pauses a lot on commas. Like, to the point the phrasing just sounds wrong and confusing, so I’m literally going in and shortening certain dead air to make things flow… (because I’m a crazy person. >_> ) I’m not sure which one to do next… maybe Heat and Bite from the A Mate Of His Own Series… We’ll see. I’m holding off on the PATB books, only because I did so many freaking sound effects and growls and shit @[email protected] and I’m not sure how to get that to work just yet. Like, should I try to overlay a weird wolf growling to get the effect or a hissing noise? Hmm… that might actually work instead of trying to get the synthetic voice to hiss…

So yeah, that’s been my last month. My brain goes in and out of severe inflammation. Focus has been shit. Emotional stability shit. But I’m, for the most part, perfectly fine. The car is comfy. I’ve got a mini heater for the nights. We wet down the ground and driveway so the dust and mold in the yard doesn’t fuck me up when I’m in the car at night. I have little to no routine—showering is extremely scarce. Stare at the phone screen a lot wishing my mind would focus… uh… yeah. It’s not death. Pain comes and goes. Getting over a tooth infection — because of course it got infected again. Yeah, just stuff. Not much worth mentioning except maybe, soon, I’ll have a mold free house back.

Hope you’re all healthy and safe, and that this virus hasn’t reached you. The privilege to be able to social distance when some people live on top of each other in small apartments just to have a roof over their heads is rarely talked about. Those forced to work right now (my bf is working >_> ) when we all know staying home and put is the safest… it’s a lot of bullshit to have to face. Essential workers are paid the least— have been for decades— and are also taken completely for granted. And this has not changed that at all. The lip service while workers still aren’t paid a living wage or even given adequate safety equipment, while congress refuses to get money to people to ensure they don’t need to go into work or starve— all while you have rich celebrities and media talk heads and congress people videoing in from their fucking mansions while not doing shit to help anyone… *sigh*

 

I don’t really want to talk about it…

This is shit, babes. Like, the world is going to hell, I’m watching my government’s ineptness and corruption lead to the worst consequences for everyday people, and it’s just enraging. It’s one thing to see common sense and question things on a small scale, but when you just watched 4.5 trillion dollars be handed to corporation in a bailout they don’t deserve because they inflated the stock market with stock buybacks instead of being responsible and saving their money for later so they could bail themselves out?

When you watch a shitty candidate be installed as the Democratic nominee by the DNC — a choice between rapists, that’s what this election has become. >_< All because the DNC is terrified that a populace candidate will steal their power away (and this is how they use their power, by not helping the working class who can’t pay rent, who are the ones forced to work at grocery stores and in shipping without any appropriate safety equipment for the shittiest of pay) and they won’t even give them single payer healthcare, won’t give them free treatment for coronavirus, won’t pass a moratorium on rent and utilities — let me just say how fucking pathetic the US system is where they think capitalism is going to save us when we can’t even get a company to make us fucking masks or life saving ventilators right now. The people running the show from the corporate mouthpieces posing as government to are actual government are greedy, inept, selfish, and they’re using this global pandemic as an opportunity to grow fat while the American public wonders if they’re going to have food or if hospitals will have enough supplies to keep us alive.

Yeah, I’ve got anger and I don’t want to turn this newsletter into me bitching about the shit that is the wealth inequality that is highlighted and growing because of Covid-19 right now. But it’s what I’m thinking about. A lot. >_> Sorry, I thought this was going to be about making audiobooks, but nope, just lots of rage lately. Stay safe, stay healthy, and tell anyone who wants you to risk your life for some rich assholes who aren’t brave enough to work a hospital or grocery store or delivery truck job for minimum wage to go fuck themselves. Life is worth more than $$ (but if you have to risk your life for others, my fuck, pay people enough to make it worth their while.)

…

 

…I think I’m freaking out a bit. Hope. It has been years running from this mold thing, and yet here we are, some weird, sudden promise that it’s going to be fixed in less than a week. That I can have a stable home that doesn’t make me sick and as a result, a stable life where I can do whatever I want to do. I think it’s a bit like being on a rocking boat all your life and suddenly standing on solid ground. It’s unsettling and I’m nor sure how to deal with it all just yet…

Sorry. This is a weird newsletter. Weird times. I truly do hope you’re all well — I know some aren’t. I know a few who already got the virus. But hope, yeah? Tomorrow can be better.

Peace, babes.

 

Hey peeps,

So, this is a tough one, but I’m trying to not have it be a tough one because attitude is pretty much everything these days. There’s mold in my place. White mold– less toxic by default than the black stuff that took over my bedroom and living room a couple years ago. It’s in the basement this time around– we discovered it when some random ceiling tiles fell down. There’s a mini bathroom down there, unfinished, and the ceiling tiles suddenly fell and knocked a shelf sideways. And I guess there’s been moisture building, and mold growing for a while, and with the tiles down it’s all exposed to the air…

Teh landlord is working with us to ensure it all gets cleaned up, but it’s going to take some time. and I… well, I already broke. Let’s be real. The exhaustion of late from the mold growing under the floor was suddenly joined with brain sparking once the spores flooded the air, and I’m just struggling to pull myself back together. Dystonia has started up again, my limbs unbearably heavy, head hard to hold up, brain fucked– it doesn’t matter. It is what it is.
 

A break

I’ve stopped working on the books for now. I can’t do it– I can’t watch my brain slip away all over again after I fought so hard to get here. I can’t force myself to walk a path my body and brain can’t survive like this. I spent over two years pouring the little energy and focus I could muster into writing these books, only to get my brain back and rewrite them each in a month– its not fucking worth the effort to write when my brain is broken. I only exhaust myself while somehow feeling like a constant failure.

So this time I’m resting– I am bored out of my mind, but I refuse to contribute to the destruction of myself by trying to get this broken brain to do what it can’t do. Mold is tough enough on me without me being an unrealistic psycho as well.

Uh… but I decided on a project for the moment so the boredom and bitterness can’t creep in and overtake me. I had another reader approach me about the fact that they can’t use text to audio technology on my site to hear the books, and it got me thinking how hard it has been for me to read since my brain got scrambled with mold. So, while I’m waiting to get the mold removal peeps in to survey and figure out what’s going to happen next, I’m starting to make some basic audio books of the completed stories on the site. That way subscribers can choose to read or hear the words, and for those who struggle with reading a screen or wall of text (I get it, it swims after a while) will have an option that works for them.

It’s hard to stay awake. It’s hard to have my mind when I am awake. The world is filtered though inflammaiton right now and doesn’t fully make sense — and the fact that the most competent candidate for president in the US dropped out because America can’t see a woman as electable is just as insane. So fuck it all — gotta let the insanity play out as it will. I will survive this. I already have, and I damn well know the books will be awesome once my brain is in working order to finish writing them, and yeah, this is a break. A pause in the journey, and while on this pause I can create something useful for people who need better accessibility to my site.
 

… sorry in advance

I don’t know if I can handle whatever people want to say in response to all this, gonna be real. I definitely can’t handle pity, barely disappointment, well wishes– seriously, I feel like acknowledging the potential shittiness of mold over taking my house in the middle of winter when I should be safe is just too freaking hard right now. 2 months — I had two months of a working brain, wrote two books and it was stolen away just like that… >_> You guys are awesome and it’s totally not your fault I’m a psychological mess over all this, and I apologize now because I doubt I will respond to emails. I’m tired, and this has broken me in a way I don’t want to think about right now.

This will be easier to heal from — I know how, now. I know I can. I know this isn’t the end I feared it was each time it hit. But there is this frustration with realizing how damn fragile I am, where the other people in the house go through their days like nothing has happened while I once again am trapped in a body that doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to think. And it’s just the way this body is. Mold will alwasy be out there and my body is always going to react like this, no promise of any stability or ability to plan.

And currently, I can’t get a face mask to save my life with everyone buying them up with the coronavirus fear — face mask only theoretically prevent you from spreading the disease if you have it, btw, you can still catch it while wearing a mask. Coronavirus can survive outside the human body for up to 9 days, and in colder temperatures, up to a month. (Aka, practice good hygiene and don’t lick anyone.) And maybe get the facts straight on how to clean it up while you’re at it. And if you find yourself with sudden conjunctivitis, it could be coronavirus and it is contagious by eye.

So even though masks won’t save someone from getting coronavirus, proper masks prevent the brain sparking inhalation of mold spores for someone like me, and I am shit out of luck. I’m grateful this hasn’t turned into multiple chemical sensitivity like last time — a good sign the spores this current mold is releasing aren’t as bad as the previous one. But people who need those multiple chemical sensitivity masks to be able to not feel like they’re going to die in unbearable pain 24-7, I’m sure they’re struggling more than ever now because of this ignorance of others about face masks. Ignorance + panic rarely helps anyone. :/

Hope you’re all safe out there, and your week is going better than mine. There’s never a bad time to remember all the people you love and spend a little extra time with them, yeah? Even with the world gone mad, it’s good to remember what matters.

Hey babes,

This week, I thought I’d try something new. I was thinking we could do some character prequels for The Paranormal Academy For Troubled Boys Serial. But… I wasn’t sure where to start. I thought since we’re in the Demon Arm Saga of everything, we might focus on either Wylie or Dorian. For Wylie, I want to start where he meets Beck, how they kinda drift towards each other when Wylie starts school after placed in the detention home. Then go into how Beck eventually gets Wylie interested in the gang because of Beck’s personal problems at home as he tries to escape a really oppressive/abusive home life. For Dorian story, I wanted to go into how he had his accident, all set within his very difficult home life of being a sorcerer expected to live up to a family name while he just wants to be a normal teen. When he rebels, and seeks hope with Alastor, that’s really when it all goes to shit for Dorian, and he ends up at the Academy a little after, where, three years later, Wylie shows up. So Wylie’s story would be much more recent to events, while Dorian’s story is a more detailed account of his power origin story.

So because I’m too close to this, I thought I’d leave it up to the fans to decide which story they would rather read. I’ll probably end up writing both eventually, but for now I just want to do one. This prequel will be 100% free, btw! So I’ve made a poll where people can click which character story they would rather read first as a prequel. Check it out and let me know what you think.

So I am in the middle of writing episode #3 of PATB serial, and it’s kind of exciting because we get a really good inside look at Academy life for the shifters. I love being able to expand on the world so much more this time around, and really start fleshing out the characters and their experiences. Wylie and Dorian are also going to have more moments as they try to figure out if what’s sparking between them is more important than the warnings the Academy Masters keep giving them. I get to start on one such scene on Monday, and I’m excited about that. <3

What I’m realizing as of late, is just how hard it is to juggle writing and having a life – still! I thought feeling better would make it easier. I made a point to take the weekend off, and that’s more of a joke to me in a lot of ways because I did so much work this weekend! I have so much work that I didn’t finish this weekend! @[email protected] But I did make a point to go outside both days before coming home and getting more work done. I would like to be able to pace these sorts of things during the rest of the week so I could actually have a weekend off, but that might be like trying to bend the reality of time in some ways. The truth is, there’s just a lot to do.

I wanted to let you guys know that I have been reading all the comments about what your fan fav taboo subjects are, and I am definitely looking at writing a new episode of Demon Bonded – well, at least fleshing out an episode – for March. I don’t want over promise anything right now. My main priority is the PATB serial, and I do want to get one out a month. But I know the fans of Demon Bonded have been ravenous for more, and me being sick and unable to write the last year has made the anticipation for the next episode certainly much worse. So I want to make sure I get some word count in there for you guys.

Also, I seriously have to get to emails and comments tonight. I have been ignoring my inbox outside of any website issues the last… 2 weeks? 3? It’s another thing I need to figure out how to juggle and squeeze into my day in a more effective way. I got so many ARC readers responding and sharing their reviews—you peeps are awesome and I loved every one!

I’m really not good at task switching. I definitely can’t multitask at all. My brain just will not. So I gotta figure something out because this stuff doesn’t get easier the more I write – if anything it gets more difficult as I put all my attention into writing, and fail to be able to balance with the rest of the world. But I’m enjoying my weekend off, of sorts, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to be able to have some time to think about how I’m just always rushing toward a goal instead of planning things better. Doing things doesn’t have much point if you don’t enjoy the journey. I can always get something done, but I won’t remember it as being worthwhile if I didn’t enjoy the process. It’s important. I should treat it as important as it is.

I hope you guys are having a great weekend; the weather here has been amazing. Well, as long as we don’t think of it is terrible climate change creeping up on us. @[email protected] I’m trying to keep the real world out of my newsletters as much as possible, because I need the escape I’m pretty sure just as much as we all do. So for today, I’m focusing on the wonderful weather and the nice, comforting cup of decaf coffee I’m drinking. Happy reading, and don’t forget to vote for your fav prequel idea!

Hey peeps,

I had ideas planned for this newsletter but I just… well, I got sick. I am feeling ragged, run out, just doing too much. I had hoped that I would have recovered by now, but my body is telling me very persistently to rest, and I am foolishly fighting it even now. (Btw, if you emailed me, I will get to you. Just being slow atm.)

So maybe we can do some catch up? I know it’s been a while. I’ve been pushing the books hard—speaking of which, the latest PATB Serial book hit #1 in New Releases for LGBT Fantasy Fiction!

Yay! If you missed it, it’s out and gorgeous. We finally catch up with Dorian, who has spent the last 3 years at the Academy trying to get his shit together, only to fall madly head over heels (in as resistant a fashion as possible) with Wylie-fucking-Doe and his hissing inner dragon. Check it if you missed it. It’s in KU for you kindle unlimited readers.

So yeah, there’s that (yay!) Uh, I threw together a cover for the next episode but it’s a draft atm because—guess what? I decided the episodes needed title names and not just numbers. I was kinda super lazy doing the bare minimum there and realized it was a disservice to anyone who wanted to try the books out and had no clue about anything inside. So now, titles! (Once I can figure out how to arrange all the elements so it doesn’t look like I just crammed a ton more words in there. @[email protected] These are some rather busy covers already…)

I’m not doing a preorder yet. This month has kinda proved to me that I’m ignoring my limits, and I need to figure something out with how to go forward. It might be that I plan to release a book every 6 weeks instead of every 4, or maybe even a book every 9 weeks—I don’t know yet. All I know is that I’m struggling with my current pace and I might have to change things up as I go along. There were definitely perks to having a preorder with a deadline. When the days started creeping up and I saw the deadline looming, I got shit done. 10 days and bam! Book! But there were other issues, like me totally working beyond my limits to make that deadline. I’m a very all or nothing person and it can be pretty self destructive if I’m not careful. For example…

Let me tell you about my short love affair with coffee <3

So, for the last two weeks coming up to when I got this book published, I did some big changes. One of those big changes was removing all sweeteners from my diet. Even the good, healthy, natural ones. I cut them all out because I suspected (and was unfortunately right) that they were setting off my immune system and triggering the autoimmune. Removing them was great. I could focus again, I could write, everything was flowing and I felt so good. But there was the drawback of a lot of the things I enjoyed had some sort of sweetener in it.

My morning routine would be to wake up and eat a Questbar before sitting down to write. Easy, simple, uncomplicated. But when I saw even stevia and erythritol were making me jittery and stealing my focus, suddenly I had to figure out what breakfast was without feeling, well, bereft of my treat, I guess. I’m a sugar addict. It was my comfort as a small child and I have been seeking some sort of sugary flavor my entire life. Going cold turkey was really the only way I could make this work given my nature, so I chose a different addiction to seek out (of course I did—don’t give me that look XD) and it was coffee.

I was crushing hard on coffee this month. I started with instant—you know, the bare minimum—but as I felt like I was losing without having that sweet flavor, I started really throwing myself into the hobby of coffee. I got a mini 4-cup French press, got a milk frother thingy that mixes everything up, even some protein powder and powdered goat’s milk to throw in there in the morning. It’s been good, really good. Except at some point, I forgot that my adrenals are still iffy, and the caffeine I was drinking every day was squeezing the life out of the poor little buggers, and yeah, I crashed, hard. Funnily enough, shortly after I finished the book—like, by days. It was like my body was only allowed to break once I was done; I’m really a monster to myself like that. @[email protected]

I realized I must have been ignoring the signs that I was working so hard, masking it by reaching for caffeine and just pushing past my limits. Not good. So I have discovered decaf—which is fucking awesome, btw! I can now have coffee whenever I want while also going back on my adrenal meds for support until I get myself back to healthy. I’m still off sweeteners, which is also great. There’s a lot of things I’m probably not going to be able to have again, if I’m real about it, but I guess time will tell. I’m excited to have stopped my immune responses so well that now I can notice when I screw up and eat something wrong and get sick, instead of being sick constantly and not knowing why.

I have been so excited to be able to write again, to just be in the flow of it all, that I did that thing I tend to do, which is kick my own ass going after a goal. I have to reevaluate some things, see if I can pace myself better to avoid what happened last time, etc. I think I don’t want to actually put the preorder up until the book is 100% written like I did with episode #1, giving me a chance to do the publishing side of things during that week before it goes live. I guess we’ll see. I’m feeling a bit like a long distance runner; I need to plan everything so differently from my old mentality of just sprinting like mad at a goal. It’s a different kind of strategy that I’m still learning—one I’m sure that will be super worth learning once I do.

Hope you’re all having a great weak—and don’t miss the reads below. There are some awesome books there this week, including Wendy’s new take on the Alpha/Omega trope that people are loving like mad!

MM, LGBTQ and RH Reads

Trust No Alpha

It’s a world gone mad. The Alphas are out of control.

When you discover you’re not who you thought you were, the nightmare begins.

KRIS

At age eighteen, life as he knows it is over for Kris. A secret to his nature he was not aware of has been revealed.

Now, kept as a prisoner in a locked room in the mansion of his wealthy father, Kris is at the mercy of Alpha laws and Alpha domination.

Things take a turn for the worse when his own litter mate threatens him, and his father starts behaving strangely around him.

Escape is his only hope. But where can he go in a world that allows him no rights?

THORNE

Marked as a dangerous Alpha, and living a secluded life alone and unloved, Thorne still grieves for the mate whose death he feels responsible for. Years have passed, and he refuses to even try to function in normal society.

One day he discovers a young man on his property, disheveled, desperate, and scared. He acts like a runaway Omega, but he doesn’t smell like one.

What is this boy? And why does Thorne feel an immediate need to protect him? To bond him? To make him his?

A non-shifter, Omegaverse love story of rescue, first time, fertility issues and an HEA. Standalone read. 65,500 words. (While Omegas are birth-fathers in this universe, there is no on-page mpreg in this book.)

 

Cat Escort

A night of passion with a Cat Shifter escort becomes everything for a man with poor self-esteem.

To mend his broken heart, Seth purchases a date with a Cat Shifter Escort. The sex was so amazing, it let him forget his pain. Seth never expected to see him again.

Nao couldn’t forget the client who’d cried in his arms, so destroyed from love gone wrong. He wanted nothing more than to help the beautiful, broken man.

Their night was supposed to be a onetime thing, but six months later, everything changed when they met again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Vampire’s Honor

Years ago, the true king of the vampires sacrificed his throne and his fated love for the common good. But it wasn’t enough…

Rune knows the Adini Treasure is real, and he wants it. With the treasure, he’ll have the power to crush his enemy—the Adi ’el Lumi—forever.

Isaac longs for love but is sick of waiting for it. When he witnesses the murder of a strange vampire with an even stranger map, he isn’t sure what he’s found. But he isn’t letting it go. Not even for the swoon-worthy vampire prince who comes to claim it.

When a witch’s calling card leads Rune to a snarky vampire with secrets and a sassy human with a treasure map, he takes them on a perilous hunt into the forgotten vampire cities. His worst fears and darkest desires await him. With everything at stake, he’ll have only one chance to either fulfill his destiny… or save Isaac, his fated love.

Don’t miss the exciting, heartwarming conclusion to the Ellowyn Found trilogy!

 

 

Fake it ’til You Make Out

Heath
It’s a classic story: Boy meets girl, girl breaks boy’s heart, boy pretends to be gay to get back at girl, girl outs boy to everyone on Facebook…

Okay, maybe it’s not that classic. But it’s what happened to me.

When I bump into my cheating ex and catch sight of the moon-sized rock on her finger, there’s only one option to save face: pretend to be dating my gay best friend, Declan.

And when she outs me on Facebook and everyone I know sees it, there’s still only one option: keep pretending to be dating Declan.

And when Declan and I have to kiss to keep up the ruse and it turns out there’s actually a spark between us (more like a blazing inferno, if truth be told) there’s once again only one option…

Warning: this book is not appropriate for anyone who doesn’t like laughing, anyone who doesn’t like dogs, or anyone who doesn’t like hot men having a lot of sex…with each other.

 

 

Don’t Call Me Kid

Falling in love with your brother’s boyfriend and pining over him for a decade? It can’t get any more complicated than that!

Van found the man of his dreams on his fifteenth birthday. And promptly lost him on the same day when he realized Parker was dating his older brother, Taylor.

Ten years later, Van still nurses his unrequited love, but Parker and Taylor are no longer together. Too bad Parker only sees Van as an inexperienced kid, or a friend at best.

If Van plays his cards right, he might get a chance to tell Parker how he feels. With their complicated histories and Taylor wanting his husband back, their situation is as difficult as they come. Will Van finally get his man, or will he have to give up his teenage fantasies once and for all?

Don’t Call Me Kid is the first novella in the Just Don’t contemporary gay romance serial. If you like your romances on the angsty side and with a touch of complicated family dynamics, then this first book will have you craving for more in no time.

 

 

Crimson: Secrets and Lies of a Living Vampire

An isolated mountain estate. A hidden lab. A dark secret that threatens the entire vampire race.

When vampire Emilie takes a new nanny job at the remote mountain home of Dr. Owen Bennett, the last thing she expects is to be thrown head-first into a dangerous mystery.

After spending the last hundred years believing she was alone in the world, the undeniable chemistry with handsome and eccentric Owen⎯who she suspects may also be a vampire⎯promises a future she never thought possible.

But…things at the Bennett house just don’t add up.

Owen’s ex-wife has seemingly vanished, he refuses to divulge who he works for, and he keeps his research under lock and key.

Determined to uncover the truth, Emilie discovers a secret that holds severe repercussions for all her kind.

When dark forces intervene, Emilie is forced to make an unthinkable choice – between newfound love or what she knows to be right.

 

Hey peeps,

So I’m flying through getting the final draft of episode #2 of the PATB serial ready for Valentine’s Day. Aka, you guys are getting a sneak peek!!! (and I don’t have to write a newsletter XD)

I thought I’d introduce you all to one of the new villains. Elie has quickly become a fav of mine—likely because he’s fucked in the head (always so fun. XD) This is the first inside look into skinners in the series, they’re mentality, interactions and goals. You can read the excerpt below. ^^

I’m starting a new reference area for the PATB serial, stuff that will be filled out as I go along and can snag some spare time. You can find it here! Wylie’s bio page is filled out so far, and I’m planning on doing everyone’s by the time it’s all done. Right now you can find some fun facts, and more digestible facts of the magic, tech, and lore stuff.

I eventually want to get some PATB focused quizzes up—stuff like, which character is your best match? Or what type of paranormal would you be? That fun kind of stuff. But for now, I’m off to edit! Hope you’re all having a great weekend. <3

Excerpt from Scene 5 of Episode #2 of PATB Serial:

“Evelyn, run. Just fucking run,” Elie gasped, his chest heaving as he watched his sister pull herself up from her sprawl on the ground. Blood was thick, smeared down here face where it had smashed against the ground unprotected. Her eyes were focused though—Evelyn never wavered even when the world was falling down around them. It had a lot to do with the drugs she took before every hunt, a mixture of potions made to keep her from feeling panic or pain. Normally he would have found his sister’s steady presence reassuring, but she stank of death. It was a heavy perfume in the air, one that appeared since he watched Edsel fall to the crimson haired killer.

“Don’t be a fool, Elie. I’m not going to leave you here to die.” Evelyn wiped the back of her sleeve carelessly across her face to sop up the blood and stumbled forward, her left leg dragging at her side where the knee refused to hold her up. “Just calm down, stop your fucking freak out, and relax your muscles enough for me to get you out of this trap.”

Elie’s leg had grown stiff in the snare, but he still managed to flinch away once his sister reached him, her hand bloody with bits of bird sticking to it. It had happened almost immediately. The moment his foot had stepped down into the magic infused loops of wire, three points of enchanted tipped blades had slashed into his leg, numbing the muscles and nerve ending while also filling him with the illusion of intense pain. A sadistic trap, Elie’s body was flooded with adrenaline and his mind overloaded with the horrendous sensations of his flesh being ripped from his bones, his jerking movement of escape only pulling the wires in tighter and trapping him more complete.

The illusion left him wanting to scream in agony, but every time Elie looked at his leg, he could see it was intact. The flesh would only entropy if he was caught too long and the wires were pulled tight enough to cut off his circulation. Not that it mattered. Elie already knew he’d be dead long before that process could start.

“You’ve tangled this completely around you,” Evelyn hissed in frustration, blood threatening to drip past her eyebrow and into her eye. “Fuck. All you had to do was sit still!”

Elie watched his sister’s nimble, gut splattered fingers dance around the wire encasing his leg. “Do you feel it?” Elie asked shakily, his teeth refusing to stop chattering. He might have been cold, but Elie had long stopped feeling the high winds blowing at their altitude that October evening. Shock was setting in, his body already at its limit to this torturous trap.

“What, the wounds?” Evelyn shook her head sharply. “If you were trained enough, you could drink the potions too. But right now it would only make you high and even more useless.”

“No…” Elie avoided his sister’s sharp gaze. “Do you feel it when all your familiars are killed?”

Evelyn growled under her breath and gritted her teeth. “You are the worst. Stop talking and focus on holding still.”

Elie nodded and let his head fall back on the raised edge of the roof that marked the end of the building. “I’m sorry I’m useless.”

“Me too.” Grunting, Evelyn held her hands over his leg and Elie’s gaze darted down as he watched his sister weave her spell into the air and his flesh.

“I’m sorry I got him killed…”

“Shut up! Your words are a curse to us all.” Snarling, Evelyn slashed her arm forward, and a blade tore through Elie’s pant leg. She pulled the material down, growling the entire time. “I’ll take the fucking leg if I have to. Shut up and let me work!”

Elie’s impulsive retort froze on his lips when Evelyn’s magic washed over him and his body was forced into a temporary paralysis. The snare could only be released if he didn’t move long enough to prevent the wires from pulling tighter and tighter. But Elie hadn’t been able to focus past the pain to do the spell, hadn’t been able to do anything but cover his screams when the snare bit into his leg when he was caught.

Elie’s thoughts only felt more frantic as his opened eyes stared out into the dark around them. He couldn’t hear their hunter, but he knew he was still out there. A skinner, obviously. No basic sorcerer or hunter had skills like the monster lurking out there. He felt like a monster; every time Elie caught a glimpse of the crimson haired warrior, something in his brutality spoke of animal, monster, demon. The skinner must have been hunting for years, soaked in the blood of his kills until he didn’t know what it was to be human.

Elie shuddered internally, wishing he could close his eyes as his mind filled with visions of the monsters that came for him whenever the dark was complete. So many dead, generations of blood and power carved into him and ingrained in his mind from every dark story his parents taught him from the moment he could listen. But the monster out there wasn’t from his mind, not some far away fairytale or ghostly visage from a past kill. No, this was Elie’s worst nightmare come to life, a man powerful enough to kill the strongest person he knew—his brother, Edsel—and suck the very life from him.

“Finally!” Evelyn hissed as she pulled the broken wire from Elie’s leg, her fingers getting pinched from the sharp edge and releasing droplets of blood to glitter in the low light. “Come on. Get to your feet.”

The moment Evelyn released him from the spell, Elie grabbed her arm, his eyes wide with fear. “He’s an energy eater, Evelyn. He drinks…”

“Stop it with your fucking nonsense.” Evelyn pulled his hand roughly off her arm and glared into her younger brother’s eyes. “Get the fuck out of here, Elie. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Elie shook his head, his lips pursed in stubborn refusal even as he saw the rage sparking in his sister’s eyes. “He’s dead. There’s no point in staying. They’re all dead and I don’t want you dead too!” Elie’s plea was wasted; he could see the resolve on Evelyn’s face, her intimidating makeup and streaked blood making her look more like the monster out in the dark than the girl she was.

“You’re a fool if you think he’ll stop,” Evelyn said tightly. “You’re too inexperienced, Elie. You don’t understand how we operate.”

Elie’s shoulders sagged. Maybe that was true. His parents had only begrudgingly started to train him before they were killed on a hunt gone wrong—his first hunt. His parents had treated him differently from Edsel and Evelyn, his mind so fragile to them… Deranged.

Elie blinked, his gaze focusing on Evelyn’s angry expression. “Don’t let him get your blood. He will suck the life from you.”

“Spare me your demented visions,” Evelyn snapped as she pulled the chameleon coat up from where she had folded it on the ground. “You should have stayed in college.”

“Stayed with the weak, soft things that are hunted, yeah?” Elie forced out, his teeth chattering as he struggled to move his leg. “Things you hunt. Kill. Murder. Subhumans to the slaughter. No, college was an insult.” Blood was pouring down the limb from where the wires had cut deep, but he simply wrapped it in a bandage that congealed the wound, then gave some of the material to Evelyn, who snarled when he made an attempt to touch her.

“Better an insult than to get your parents killed.”

She muttered it under her breath but Elie heard, his eyes widening minutely. He nodded, for it was true. His parents should have left him in college. Deranged. Their choice term for him behind his back. But at college he was clever, innovative, useful, even if it was only to a bunch of powerless subhumans. “A god among swine,” Elie whispered bitterly, “Or fool of the slaughter?”

“Save your mad ramblings for someone who gives a fuck,” Evelyn growled and pushed up from the ground.

Elie looked away when Evelyn approached their fallen brother and ruthlessly went through his pockets, stripping anything of use. He wrinkled his nose, certain he could smell the rot already sinking in, or perhaps seeping out. Edsel was full of such ugliness, such disgusting filth that reached levels Elie couldn’t bare to think without a part of his brain screaming in protest. He grasped his head, fingers digging into his scalp as he listened to his sister clean any magical remnants that could be used to trace back to them from Edsel’s body.

Edsel had forced the family business on him. Once their parents had died, fallen to their fragile son’s mistake in battle, Evelyn had demanded he be sent away, exiled to another type of life for softer, weaker creatures. Edsel had refused; Elie was already marked as a Briargrave. He had dragged Elie with him everywhere, forcing him to learn the art of hunting, catching and slaughter no matter his protests or poor skills. His older brother didn’t care if Elie vomited during every kill; he would see all his siblings skinners to ensure their family legacy lived on.

His sister adapted to Edsel’s leadership, but that was to be expected. Evelyn was always so detail oriented, so methodical. Always full of plans she would break down in ways that would be seen through to the very end every time. Product was always caught. Product always got to where it needed to go. Payment was always received. Evelyn was the brains behind the business, the will to insure that they were more than just a family of shifter hunters, but that they profited.

Elie’s gaze wandered, daring to dart to where Edsel’s corpse stretched, blood and semen cleaned away with spells now, his tattoos burning away under Evelyn’s spells as she worked. Even that night while his sister’s illusions dazzled and confused the sorcerer hunting them, Evelyn had spent most of her time erasing their tracks and setting up protection. The sharp eyed skinner with red hair had yet to strike a blow against his sister, and Elie felt bursting with pride just thinking of it. Evelyn never ran, never hesitated, but set trap after trap while erasing their presence from the world around them. She even used his designs; while Edsel mocked Elie’s adjustments to their legacy weapons, his sister had seen the value of his innovations enough to take them into battle.

Elie managed to get enough sensation in his leg to stand when Evelyn stalked over to him and grabbed him roughly by the jacket. “Listen to me,” Evelyn hissed as she pulled his coat from him and forced Elie’s hand into Edsel’s chameleon skinned coat. Elie tried to flinch away but Evelyn wouldn’t let him, grabbing his other arm to push it into the jacket’s empty sleeve. “Do not look back, Elie. Just walk the fuck away and don’t look back. You aren’t strong enough to win—you will never be strong enough to take on this lifestyle. Do you understand me!” Evelyn demanded when Elie continued to cower, refusing to meet her eyes. “You have always been clever, Elie, the smartest of us three. Use your brain! Walk the fuck away from all this! Tonight. Forever!”

Deranged. It was always the same. None of them accepted him.

Elie licked dry lips, his hand coming up to grasp at his hair. “I-I… Evelyn, I can’t. With Edsel dead, I’m the last male heir. I have to take over—”

“Don’t you lie to me, Elie Briargrave!” Evelyn screamed and wrenched him by the lapels of the chameleon scaled jacket, forcing him to meet her blazing eyes. “You wanted him dead! You wanted him dead, and now he is! You wanted mother and father dead, and you said it, and they’re gone! And when you look at me…” Evelyn glared at him, her eyes burning into his. “I know what you’re thinking, Elie. It’s all over your stupid, crazy face!”

Elie stared back at her silently, his chest heaving for air. He couldn’t deny it. He wanted Edsel dead. He hated him, and he wanted him dead, and had said it aloud only a day ago, daring any wayward spirit to hear it and comply. Looking at Evelyn, the rage twisted on her face smeared in black makeup, he couldn’t say that he didn’t want her dead either. In her face he saw every one, every spirit carved into her flesh and tied to her soul forever. Tied to him…

Elie tore his gaze away from the death in Evelyn’s eyes. “I would never say it,” he whispered. “Not you, Ev. I would never curse you like I did them.”

“You didn’t curse them, you idiot!” Evelyn shouted and pushed him back with a disgusted look on her face. “You don’t have the ability to will magic, Elie. You’re just fucking crazy.”

Deranged… Too fragile for our legacy of slaughter… A curse on the bloodline… Cursed.

“Still,” Elie tried, his voice pitched softly to avoid enraging his sister further. “I would never wish you dead. You… It’s different.” When the voices came—when the faces swarmed his vision, haunting him for being trapped in the flesh of the Briargraves—Elie never listened to the ones who wanted Evelyn dead. They didn’t know her. They didn’t know that she was good inside. She cared. “You… you came to save me.”

“You fucking fool.” Evelyn swung before Elie could react, and he screeched and fell backwards as colors burst behind his eyes and pain exploded through his face. He grabbed his cheek with two hands and gaped up at his sister, blinking dumbly from where he ended up sprawled on the concrete. “Did that hurt?” Evelyn spat as she stepped over him and glared down. “Dying is going to hurt a fuck ton more. Run, Elie. Run the fuck away and let this life go. You were never one of us.”

But he was! He had the mark, had it all carved into his flesh before he could even walk or speak or understand the monsters waiting for him in the dark…

Elie’s eyes widened when a grimace of pain crossed Evelyn’s face. “You’re hurt!” He scrambled up, seeing for the first time the thick layer of blood sticky on her leather boot where a sword had slashed deep. Her blood was only in place because of the crisscross of magically enhanced bandages Evelyn had placed along the artery. “Shit, Ev. If that bandage goes…”

“Run! Fucking run, you dumb, weak, useless little nuisance!” Pelting him with her familiar, childhood curses, Evelyn dragged Elie up by the arm and set him on his feet. Before he could flinch back, she pulled a dagger free, slashed the blade across her palm, and smeared her fresh blood into the dark green scales of the chameleon coat. The blood soaked in and the magic activated, the scales growing clear and bending light until all that could be seen of Elie standing there was his face and hands not covered by the shifter pelt. Evelyn raised her hand to paint Elie’s face with blood to hide him completely. She froze, her body went rigid, and she exhaled in a sharp gasp.

“Ev?” Elie stared at his sister, a scream clawing at his throat when she didn’t breathe again, her eyes bulging and body motionless. “Evelyn!” He grabbed her hand, trying to get her to respond, only to cry out in alarm when his hand grew wet with her blood. Elie dropped her like she burned to the touch, and went to wipe the fluid from his fingers, only to freeze when breath broke free from his sister in a long, soft wheeze.

“You can’t win.” Evelyn’s words were like dry paper on her unmoving lips as she struggled to speak. “He’s an old one… using ancient blood magic… There is no winning.”

Thud. At the noise behind him, Elie whirled, a blade jumping into his hands that he held up defensively. He squinted his eyes, peering at the far side of the barrier shrouded in shadows where a raven fluttered wildly on its side, streaking blood along the rooftop as it tried to get to its feet. While Elie watched, the bird began to shrink. Its chest caved in, growing thinner and thinner, and feathers fell away and disintegrated like ash. Thud. Elie’s gaze dart to the right when another of Evelyn’s familiars dropped down from the dark sky and collapsed, its beak open wide in a death scream it never released. Its body shuddered and collapsed, the bird’s muscles growing tighter and tighter until they snapped completely and the air, magic, and life force were sucked straight out of the creature.

Thud. Thud! “No,” Elie whimpered when another raven fell, then another, then another. Evelyn’s familiars rained down from the sky and crashed to the rooftop, their feathers flaring into bursts of ash before disintegrating completely. “Evelyn,” he croaked as he turned back, his eyes wide in horror when he found his sister’s chest sunken in, her limbs spindly thin and growing thinner.

“How do I cut the connection?” Elie shouted, but he knew it was too late. Evelyn’s beautiful hair was disintegrating, the golden strands breaking away into a glitter of crushed stars quickly stolen away by the wind.

“Run.” Evelyn’s voice hissed out. “Don’t waste this moment…”

“I didn’t wish it, Evelyn! I didn’t!” Elie insisted, rushing toward his sister, only to stop short when one of her bones snapped. “Oh no… No! I don’t want you to leave,” he pleaded. “Not like this.” Tears welled in Elie’s eyes while he gazed at his sister’s face at it twisted and distorted, her energy being sucked out of her.

Evelyn’s body wrenched, her back arching unnaturally. When her voice wheezed out, it sounded older than dust. “You never should have come home… Be clever and run… Run.”

Deranged. His father’s voice called to him, accusing, damning as Elie fought back tears. He hadn’t wished it. He hadn’t! He never wanted this!

Don’t forget to preorder episode #2 of PATB serial! It releases February 14th where we not only meet villains, but the paranormal patients at the Academy, including Wylie’s soon to be deadly obsession, Dorian Black. ♥