?Catching Up With MM Freebies and Goodies?

Hey babes, it’s been a while.

Things are actually really good. About (3?) weeks ago, right around Halloween, something shifted in my life. Not sure if it was the mold going dormant from the winter weather, the new probiotics I started up—magic? There’s always hope for magic XD—but I found myself adapting up instead of down for a change. I have so much energy. I actually hadn’t realized how little energy I had until it all hit me. I suddenly had a clean house, was eating daily, cooking again, getting errands done. I was able to focus writing for hours on end and not feel like crawling up the walls. I caught a cold soon after, and yet I still had more energy with the cold than before. It’s been damn good.

So, for those who checked up to see how I’m doing, no worries. Besides a few annoying things (such as a broken tooth with an exposed nerve just in time for Thanksgiving,) I’m damn fabulous. A little nervous as I wonder what might happen when the heat returns and the mold sprouts. I may have to find a frozen wasteland to live in full time…

So, what fun stuff to share? I carved a pumpkin for the first time this year! Not like carved, er, sculpted? Is that what they call it? It’s a 3d thing. Let me hit you with some pics. It’s of Pan from Pan’s Labyrinth, one of my all time favorite movies to be honest. I ran out of time, but I think his face came out pretty cool, if not totally orange. <3

Writing has been amazing. It’s flowing, it feels good, and I’m really happy with the direction it’s all going. Delving back into Demon Arms has been awesome. I love having the viewpoint of Theodore and Michael, some older (although not always mature) voices to balance out Wylie and Dorian’s younger perspectives. Theodore is such a study in grumpy coolness. XD

A little unedited preview for those curious <3

He unclipped the strap from beneath his despoiler coat and pulled free the sheath and encased diamond sword. When Theodore could trust that his voice wouldn’t reveal too much of his evening, he finally spoke. “Worried I was dead?”

Michael grimaced at the accuracy of the statement and lowered his cup of tea. The intricate clock on the wall behind him displayed it was just after 3 A.M. “It’s the first time a dragon has been placed on the registry, ever. If I didn’t have the boys to protect…”

Theodore turned toward him. The white cloth folded in his hand carefully moved along the laser smooth surface of his sword stained red. “I would have called if I needed help.”

Michael’s eyes sharpened at the blatant lie, and Theodore looked away. He busied himself with cleaning the deadly blade. Michael’s gaze felt like a razor as he accessed every sign, every tell of when he’d been too slow that night, when his reflexes failed and his speed hadn’t been enough. It was as if he were flayed from his coat and clothes, and every injury, every bruise was revealed.

Michael’s unwavering stare landed on the blood dripping down Theodore’s fingertips. He sipped his tea. “So, how did it go?”

Theodore shrugged noncommittally. Pain lanced through his shoulder from the movement, and his jaw tightened. His eyes slid over his desk and to behind Michael where he kept a collection of rare, beautiful objects. Some were weapons as well, but most were art. Dragons of lore from different cultures representing sea monsters, fire breathers, and earth burrowers posed along the shelves. His gaze stopped on a coil of an Asian style dragon formed from gold, and then returned to the blade in his hands.

“The skinners found a dragon tonight, just not the one they were expecting.”

Michael exhaled slowly and placed his mug on the desk. Without looking, Theodore flicked his fingers, and a coaster appeared and went sailing across the room to land right next to the cup. Michael blinked at the sudden appearance and obligingly nudged the coaster beneath his tea.

“Dead?” Michael asked quietly.

Theodore licked his fangs as his inner dragon shuddered at the memory of hot blood. “Two. I lost the third in the ether before I could get a tracer on him.”

Michael jumped up from the chair. “You were hunting in the ether? Have you lost your mind completely?” He moved around the desk, and his green bunny slippers flopped with each step as he headed right for Theodore.

Theodore fought the impulse to throw his hands up, to strike out, to slash with the very convincing weapon in his hands that would prevent whatever physical contact was imminent. A shadow flickered in Michael’s stormy gaze, and he stopped short as he read the discomfort in Theodore’s stance. Michael’s fingers twitched at his side as he held back whatever compassionate impulse he had intended on indulging.

“It wasn’t planned,” Theodore said tersely. “I’m not reckless.”

Michael shook his head and reached up to rake at his golden hair. “No, it’s never planned. But if you were sensed in there…”

“Clearly, I wasn’t. I’m alive. I’m here.” Theodore’s pale, violet eyes flashed steel. He turned and carefully placed the clear sword into its display sheath. He stared at it once he was done, not really seeing anything but the swirl of black and scent of blood still around him. “I still have prey to find. I’m sure he’ll offer me a chance to take his life soon enough.”

Michael’s gaze slid down to the splatters of blood beneath Theodore’s feet. “You reek of blue ash. Can you even feel your arm?”

“It’s fine,” Theodore muttered. He gripped his upper arm delicately and gritted his teeth when pain lanced down his side. “You know how quickly I metabolize.”

“Maybe when you were twenty,” Michael shot back. “That shit is dangerous in high doses, even for shifters. I feel lightheaded just smelling it. The last thing I need is you falling into a coma.”

Theodore rolled his eyes as he turned from the wall. He resisted the urge to brace himself no matter how much the room insisted on wavering. Michael’s disapproving glare came into view, and he growled warningly. “I’ll stop in with Rob once I’m updated on the kid.”

Michael’s mouth remained tight with worry. “You can see Wylie for yourself in the hospital. He hit the nullifiers on the way out of the transport. He’s down for the night.”

“Fine,” Theodore grunted. He hitched the sleeve of his despoiler jacket up his bleeding arm and brushed past Michael. He paused at his desk and pulled the stack of wards from a pocket and threw them next to the cheerfully bright cup of tea. He scowled when scarlet splattered onto the top heptagon ward and blurred out the intricately drawn insignia. “Fuck.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed, and his suspicious glare followed to where Theodore was scowling at his desk. “It usually takes a lot more to knock a dragon out.”

Theodore sneered as he used the outside of his coat to clean the blood from the ward. “He didn’t hold up well to interrogation.” He pulled the chiggers and a poisoned dagger from his pockets and slammed them into the desk drawer. He immediately spelled it shut while ignoring Michael’s outraged shout.

“For fuck sake, Theo!”

“For fuck sake, Theo,” Theodore mimicked under his breath. He lifted his head when Michael stalked over, and his tone turned defensive. “The kid’s fine. There was no time, the little punk had a mouth on him, and, well,” Theodore grinned sharply, “He started listening to me once he realized I was the strongest thing he was ever going to meet.”

“No! You will not stand here and justify your sadistic, territorial bullshit.” Michael grabbed Theodore by his good arm, the tension in his fingers revealing he’d rather be shaking him. “These are patients, not enemies, not challengers. Patients!”

Theodore stiffened in the grip and his breath stilled in his chest. When he met Michael’s gaze, the violet color had drained from his eyes to reveal an otherworldly white.

“Whiteheart, my dragon has feasted on death tonight. The scent of blood is all around us. Kindly refrain from touching me unless you’re volunteering to be the next offering.”

Michael’s angry expression grew darker, but he pulled his hand away and took a step back. “Theo, he needs protecting.”

Theodore tilted his head, and color sparked back into his eyes as his dragon withdrew. After a beat, he waved his hand dismissively. “It won’t happen again. I was worked up.” His lips tugged down into a grim frown, and he turned away to dig through his pockets. A cell phone, five empty vials in need of refilling, and a compact mirror clattered onto his desk. “I was afraid for the ignorant punk. My fuck, what an idiot.”

“He’s not the only one,” Michael growled under his breath. “It better not happen again, or I’m going to be the one who links with Doe.”

“No.” Theodore whirled back, fire flaring in his eyes. He went to point at Michael, then thought better of it as his blood splattered in an arc on the floor. “Shit.” Theodore took a steadying breath and tried again, calmer. “I’m Doe’s guardian. No one else can protect him the same way. It has to be me.”

Michael’s chest heaved, and he exhaled heavily. “I know. We all know. I just need you to not hate him for it.”

I think way back in the day, Michael and Theodore probably fucked. I mean, you don’t end up being the few to survive while everyone you know ages and dies around you without hooking up once in a while out of basic companionship for sanity. They’re BFFs even if they totally can’t stand each other some days. They hated each other way more when they first met. XD I wonder if I’ll ever get an excuse to write the two of them when they were young and Theo’s family is killed off one by one… Hmm.

I’ve been writing their backstory, if you can’t tell. Just filling out some more extensive character sheets I plan on sharing eventually. Doing a terms sheet too, because I want the world building to be more extensive. Squee, I’m totally nerding out over it. <3 I’m sorry it’s taking so long but I’m glad I’m making the effort because it’s going to make all the books going forward way better. If you missed it, you can read the first five rewritten scenes on the site here.

This Week’s MM Goodies

$0.99 Nocturnal Beloved: MM Immortal Lovers Romance

Julian Castrow is a young man tending at the local bar, the Hopper, serving drinks during the night and going to college during the day. Life is going at a steady pace until a vampire walks in one night changing Julian’s life forever.

Graham Beliviston is a considerably young vampire whom finds his attraction to Julian, strange and alluring. Usually he feeds and moves on, but something about Julian makes him yearn for more understanding of the mortal. But love can be hard for an immortal when there are vampire hunters on the move, and they’ve got their eyes set on the young mortal lover.

What will happen when a bond between an immortal and a mortal is inexplicably created?

$0.99 Beneath the Autumn Sky

“I could look into your friend’s disappearance,” Daniel found himself blurting out. After a few minutes of awkwardness, he mentally kicked himself. The sheer look of shock was more than enough to make Daniel regret those words, but even more so when Alec’s grip tighten. “No, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I know a couple of guys at the police station. I could-”

“Please Daniel. Just…leave it be.”

Daniel stopped. He couldn’t help but turn away, looking at the small plate of vegetables. Before he knew it, he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

He was about to take his hand back, but he couldn’t. It was warm, and it was the first thing he noticed. “Hey Daniel?”

“What’s up?”

“I love you. You know that right?”

In which love and death dance within the confines of Autumn. This collection includes The Devil’s Playground, Mayhem, Hero, and Promises.

$0.99 Game Time: Gay First Time Sports Romance

Things Can Get Hot Off The Ice 

All Scott has wanted since a child was to represent his favorite hockey team, but after a couple of seasons toiling away as a second string he’s traded away unceremoniously. At first it hurts, but he vows to play well enough to make them regret ever letting him go.

He’s welcomed at his new team by Mark, the personal trainer, and the two of them form an instant bond. Scott is unable to deny the attraction he feels, even though exploring it could jeopardize his standing among his new team-mates. Mark is an anchor to Scott, until everything around him starts to sink.

Scott is forced to ask himself if his career is more important than his personal life. He’s already lost one dream, can he afford to lose another? And when it comes time to face his former club, will he prove them right or wrong?

Free! Surrender: An MM Erotica Short Story

Jonathan Estes could have just went home for Thanksgiving. Fortunately, he stayed behind to enjoy the solitude of campus. When his roommate and crush, Jake Kettleman, decides to stay, Jon begins to fantasize about what the holiday could bring.

Jon knows Jake could have any girl he wants. But on Thanksgiving Jake gets something more than a girl, he gets his kinky dorm buddy.

Self-revelations turn into sexual revelations in this short story about two men exploring their own bondage fantasy, and each other.

This is a story with BDSM

??A Smexy Halloween!??

Hey babes,

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

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

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

Is it a good time for a sneak peek?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Forest snarled. “You little…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I fucked up,” Leo announced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, guys, who is that?”

“Crap,” Leo hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Achoo!”

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

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

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

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

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

This Week’s MM Goodies

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

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

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

The Same Page

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

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

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

$0.99 Operation Makeover

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

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

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

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

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

?Dark Fantasies For Abuse Survivors And A Ton Of Rainbows?

Hey babes,

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

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

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

How To Help The World…

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

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

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

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

This Week’s MM Goodies

$0.99 Dead In The Garden

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

Dead body in the garden? Check.

Mystery to solve? Check.

Police focused on the wrong person? Not good.

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

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

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

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

Buyer’s Remorse

Will love persevere when the truth comes out?

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

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

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

The Heights

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

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

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

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

Or find out that his entire life is a lie.

Last Chance To Snag Hellcat For $0.99!

?Are You Freaking Kidding Me, America??

Hey babes,

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

The Imposter King

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

?Hacked, Patched, And Looking To Escape?

Hey babes,

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

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

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

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

Hacked

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

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

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

I need an escape

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

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

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

Of Princes False and True

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

Only in a fairy tale.

Nothing But Trouble

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

Honey From The Lion

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

Remember Tomorrow

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

Greyson Fox

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

No Way Out

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

$0.99 Mated To The Demon Prince

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

⌛Musings of Mortality, Suffering, and Mercy⏳

Hey, babes

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

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

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

Mortality

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mourning

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

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

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

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

Suffering

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mercy

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

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

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

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

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

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

You Ever Wonder How Books Make Money

Hey, Babes,

Hmm, so another different newsletter this week only cuz my brain is on fire… mostly metaphorically. I could spend my time talking about all the fucking injustice in my little slice of the world (mostly what I focus on when not writing but I know how oppressively unhappy politics can leave people.) Or I could talk about the mold that has taken over my neighborhood this week. Like, it’s a cloud of spores every time I drive near the house and the rest of the surrounding area isn’t much better. But that just depresses the fuck out of me because I have no idea if and when it will improve. My heart is set to hummingbird, blood pressure is in the pits, and everything hurts. I was in the house for a good couple of week, writing consistently, brain working gloriously, etc, but now it’s back to being in the car seeking little spots of relief.

But hey, I got a car and can find places that don’t kill me too much, and I just got to wait it out. The town where I used to work basically blew up from a giant gas disaster (40 houses on fire) so that was intense and there are a bunch of people without homes in eastern Massachusetts because of it. Mold doesn’t look so bad atm. So I’m talking business strategies today, cuz that’s where my brain is to avoid those other topics. (Ah, avoidance. Such bliss XD) Also, I like this kind of stuff: pattern recognition, problem solving, cause and effect, trial and error, etc. It’s cool beans.

Strategizing a new sales model—aka, a peek into my brain

I hopped onto my Book Report page for the first time in a while (I’ve been ignoring a lot of this shit so I can just focus on writing and getting healthy) and got some interesting numbers with my Amazon sales. For those who don’t know what Book Report is, it’s an app that allows you to view your Amazon book sales and page reads and break it down in a gazillion different ways to understand what is selling and what’s not.

So, the numbers were revealing. Out of 48 books, 6 of them were making over 77% of my Amazon income. Intense. That means I have 42 books just sitting there barely making money. What a waste.

So, a couple main thoughts this resulted in: what is similar about these 6 books, how do these 6 books brand me as an author, and how do I get those other 42 books to start making money? Here’s my breakdown.

1) What do these 6 books have in common?

To figure out why these books are a success, we need to look at a few different aspects of what makes them similar. These aspects aren’t what an outsider to selling books might automatically think. You might be asking questions like how good is the story, or the characters personality, or did each one totally have a quirky best friend; or you might want to know if it’s a horror MM verse a romantic MM. Unfortunately, it’s rarely so deep when it comes to writing. The genre plays a roll, but you need to take into account things like cover design, blurb writing, Amazon algorithms, length, etc. Some examples.

• 3 of these books were KU (kindle unlimited) reads. Hellcat, Demon Bonded #11, and Taken By Beasts. These are my only books enrolled in KU, and they’re already at the top of the income pile. Be it algorithms or just readers unwilling to throw down cash outside of KU when on Amazon, this program generates income.
• 4 of these books are either bundles or collections: Taken By Beasts, Demencious Saga, Apprentice Saga, and Bullying Teacher: the complete serial.
• 5 of these books are between 60,000-100,000 words
• All of them have newer covers verse my old, moldy style
• 4 have newer blurbs with an understanding of genre copy-writing
• 4 have been extensively edited, or written originally in my mold free style, aka, quality of writing is better
• 5 books are paranormal, with Bullying Teacher being the odd man contemporary title out
• All of these books are high heat
• Demencious Saga and Apprentice Saga are books previously to my most recently released Demon Bonded book #11. It’s known that books just released in KU get about a month of a ranking boost before a different set of algorithms kick in, meaning all 3 could be a fluke to watch for.

2) If I had a smaller catalog of books on Amazon, would it be easier for new readers to find these 6 books that are already drawing the most attention? What kind of ‘brand’ am I presenting right now, and would it be improved by only having these 6 books on Amazon instead?

This is a question I’ve been poking at for about 2 years when I realized just how much my brain had been impaired by the mold. And even if it hadn’t been an illness at the root, I think it’s a good question for any author to ask after a few years of self-publishing. What are you presenting to your audience, and is that message clear? When someone sees your name on a book, do they already know what that book is going to be about? Do your stories have a consistency of genre/trope, quality, subject matter, etc?

For the varied author, this might be a terrifying question. What, I’m supposed to only write one type of book? If you enjoy writing a variety of topics, no, but if you’re looking to create an income off your books, fuck yeah. Consistency is important. What do you think of when you hear names like Anne Rice, Stephen King, Nora Roberts, RR. Martin, J.K. Rowling, Diane Steele, James Patterson? If you’re familiar with these main stream authors, you immediately think of the ‘type’ of book they write. The genre, be it horror, romance, political intrigue, vampires to wizards to castles and assassins. If J.K. Rowling came out with a contemporary romance in the modern world, wouldn’t you be confused as fuck? If she did decide to write a book like that, it would be smarter to put that book under a completely different pen name so she wouldn’t water down her wizard brand. Otherwise, you might pick up that new book and wonder why there are so many wizards in the rest of her books.

So yeah, here I am looking at my catalog of books asking myself, what am I selling to people as an author, and is that message clear? Not only that, is what I’m selling what I want to be writing?

Books like Hellcat, The Paranormal Academy for Troubled Boys, and Demon Bonded are series I want to write. I wake up thinking about them, plotting them, wondering what those characters are going to do next. And the shorter fics that you find in Taken By Beasts? I enjoy making those even if I don’t usually write them in groups but once in a while between novels. As for Bullying Teacher, I love everything about that book from the high heat to dirty sex, but I don’t like contemporary fics the same way I do paranormal. I don’t like having to make everything feel ‘real’ which is why that book is still such an exaggeration (which probably makes it less believable, but fuck it, real life isn’t that interesting.) So yeah, I can at least say I 100% enjoy writing the books that are selling.

But the other question, is the message of what I write clear? That’s much harder to discern (aka, probably not clear at all.) The genre/trope of dubcon and paranormal are pretty strong themes but other things like consistency in quality and plot are not. Being sick did not allow me to really grow as a writer but just write to escape thoughts of being sick. What I thought was good enough back then isn’t remotely so now that I’m healthy. As a writer, do I want to be known as someone who has interesting ideas but doesn’t follow through, doesn’t push to make a complicated story that really satisfies? Do I want to be known as the author who can’t be assed to edit and ensure every sentence actually makes sense? I’ve tried to read some of my first published books, and my fuck, I don’t even understand what I was trying to say sometimes. (looking at you, Blackthorne @_@) It’s not pretty.

3) How do I get the other 42 books to make me money?

Now, if I was any other author, this would be a question of do I continue to sell the old books, remove them permanently, or edit them and then try to sell them? Do I seek out other platforms and go wide (put my books everywhere you can) and see if that draws in an audience of new readers? Which made me ask very bluntly: has going wide done anything positive for me?

No. I don’t know how to rank on other platforms outside of Amazon, and the platforms themselves have a poor algorithm and SEO set up. I don’t want to do the work to climb to the top of those platforms, especially when it’s much harder to even gain a foothold without those algorithm aspects. I think I made a little less than $100 a month on my books total on other platforms. These platforms can’t compete with Amazon—that fucking monopoly is taking over everyone, let’s not pretend, and KU is part of the problem. But fuck, I want to make money so I’m going to feed the beast for now.

But I have an option most authors don’t take, and that’s the subscription site. Something I realized I haven’t been putting center. The subscription site is how I can make those 42 books generate income while keeping them from watering down the quality of my brand, and stupid me, I was competing against that subscription site by putting those books on other platforms instead of making it so the only way to find them was on the site.

Which leads me to the key: Exclusivity

It goes against the grain as a writer, lol, but so do a lot of marketing strategies. For example, free books. Free books are the quickest way to get people on your mailing list and notice that you exist (at least before Instafreebie started making free so redundant people hoard those digital files and will never have enough time to read them all.) But there are so many authors terrified of giving their work away. They don’t see it as fishing for new readers, but just throwing their hard work away, and because of it, they don’t take the risk and they don’t get noticed.

In the same way, exclusivity on one site instead of spreading your books out everywhere to find as many eyes as possible seems risky, potentially suicidal. How will people find you? Well, through Amazon. Because that’s where most readers find you anyways because it is so fucking hard to compete against that corporate giant. The readers are already there, so that’s where you seek them out.

It helps that those in the KU program already understand the idea of a subscription service. Will they all think that my small number of books is worth the same cost as the thousands of books in KU? Probably not. But the ones who enjoy my type of writing, the genre, the tropes, will be interested enough to give it a month and see. And if they like the new stuff coming out, they may stay.

Crafting a new strategy

So, after I went through all those questions above, I came up with a new strategy I’m going to be focusing on for the next year. The two main goals of this strategy is to

1. create books that work for the KU program which will push views, ranking, and ideally sales
2. ensure the subscription site is utilizing all those books of exclusive content to the best of its ability
3. make sure I focus on branding for both sites

For part 1, it’s about taking those aspects that work in KU and focusing on them. This includes longer stories and bundles. So, if I wanted to have Heat in KU, I would make sure I bundled it with its sequel, Bite, maybe even Feral if I have it written by that time. This would allow for more pages to be read, pushing more income out of one sale instead of the hope the reader would seek out the sequels and read those too.

KU allows for a different strategy in this regard compared to selling book by book. When you’re selling pages, you want as many pages there to be read instead of leaving it up to the reader to seek out the rest of the pages in another book. Make things easy for your reader and give them everything up front. This would also mean rewriting and editing the fuck out of Heat and Bite to ensure my writing is cohesive and at a quality that could sit side by side on the shelf with a book like Hellcat, which is high heat, novel length, and has a cohesive plot that’s well edited.

For part 2, I want to go into creating an exclusive feel to the website and that content. I want to push that there are books to be read that you can’t get anywhere else, and while you’re waiting for me to finish a novel, you can read this too. I need to convey to readers the value of this content, a value that has just gone up if it can’t be found elsewhere. This also means working on my sales funnel and ensuring that my ads in the back of books are pulling people where they need to go.

Part 3, is two fold, and should be thought out on all the different levels. Branding might seem like one of those buzz words, but it matters big time. I want my main series to be my brand on Amazon. When someone picks up a Sadie Sins book there, I want them to think, oh, like Demon Arms, or Mated to the Demon Prince, or Demon Bonded. That’s my goal of a brand on Amazon, those 3 main series going forward. That means those series have to be front and center, be of the highest quality writing I have, covers and blurbs must be exemplary, and the books that are shown side by side with them need to have elements that reflect those series.

Branding for the website, though? Oh, we’re pushing the hardcore erotica and taboo nature of my books you can’t find elsewhere. Not only is it exclusive, but it’s super naughty, and way too hot for Amazon. It’s the idea that these books, if left out in the public, could somehow bring the world crumbling down (or so those shame based censors would have us all believe when it comes to erotica. XD) I want to use that not as a reason to hide my books, but as a reason for readers to come find my dangerous books. Selling sin, basically. <3

Sales Funnels

I mentioned this when it came to the website, and I want to expand because if you’re selling something on the Internet, you need to understand what a sales funnel is.

You ever see those totally transparent, kinda sleazy blog posts where someone is saying how much they love a product, it helped them after they had this terrible problem (let’s say it’s a weight loss product,) and hey, if you have trouble losing weight too, you should BUY NOW!!! In bright link letter and giant font? Yeah, that’s a sales funnel of the most obvious type. I’m not judging sales funnels (they’re a structure while it’s up to the user to decide if it’s used for good or evil,) I’m just giving you an example that I think we’ve all come across where it doesn’t feel like the end goal is to actually give the reader of that blog a solution to their problem, but just put some cash into the blogger’s pocket

Sale Funnels are all about conversion. Grabbing as many eyes as you can, pulling in the ones interested, and leading them to the end. Cuz I study other authors and marketing, I’ve watched as some authors push certain marketing books in other people’s newsletters with the intent to sell a how to market, or how to brand, or how to write—or breath through your fucking nose and hop on a leg—e course at the end of that sales funnel. I saw an annoyingly transparent sales funnel for one of those master classes (I get the ads on Facebook all the time cuz Facebook knows I’m a writer) where another author claimed to have taken the Master Class of the author in question, and how it was worth the time, etc. Sales funnels may come in different shapes and sizes, might stretch across different areas and employ many strategies, but the goal is still always the same, to get people to the end of the funnel.

So, for myself, when I’m putting books up on Amazon, my end goal is not to make a fuck ton of money there because I had a bestseller (don’t get me wrong, that would be fucking awesome XD) but more, my end goal is to put out work that a certain group of people will enjoy consistently enough to want to see what else I write and invest their free time, and their money, in reading what I write. Instead of directing them towards my back catalog of books on Amazon, I would instead be directing them to that back catalog on my website where they can also get my taboo fiction they never would have had an opportunity to find on Amazon. It’s important that I’m putting my best work forward in that regard with those Amazon books, and creating a brand that promises to continue that quality when you come back to the site.

So when I say authors don’t understand the value of a free book, that’s because they don’t understand a sales funnel. That free book is at the top of the funnel, drawing potential readers in to fall in love with your stories and invest in you as a writer. Instafreebie is great for that, as well as Goodreads giveaways. When you have a blurb at the back of your book telling people about books they haven’t read yet, that’s part of a sales funnel. When you get your book in other author’s newsletters, that’s part of the sales funnel. My newsletter is part of my sales funnel where I might not even be advertising my books, but you’re seeing how I write, and that might interest you enough to pick up one of my books. Every free book on my website is part of a sales funnel where my hope is the reader will invest and want to stay and grow with my books.

I guess I don’t think of my sales funnel as sleazy because I know that it involves me keeping a promise to readers and to myself. That’s not just of quality editing and stuff, but of being committed to what I do, to taking the time to make the story the best I can, and knowing I’m not going to grow bored and run off and never finish a story or some shit. If my end goal was to sell a book, that would be when it all ends. An exchange of cash for story, but by making the focus about building a readership that wants to grow with my stories, I’m promising those stories will be there to grow with. I wish I could have started off healthy, that I could have made that promise look far more stable in the beginning, you know? As a sales pitch, that would have kept people invested. But reality is not a sales pitch, and all we have is reality at the end of the day in all it’s imperfectionism.

Complicated or clear?

I love this kind of shit because of the intellectual challenge. Patterns, structures, and then all the trial and error as you find out what works and what doesn’t. Whether I’m actually good at it? Eh.

So I just removed those 42 (or nearly) books from Amazon and I’m already seeing the KU sales fill in the income those other books brought in, as well as exceed it. Will it hold once Demon Bonded #11 loses it’s algorithm push? No clue. I haven’t been doing any advertising or cross-promotion lately, just playing with Amazon atm. I’d say it was just because of the experiment, but really, I’m so lazy about this kind of shit. =_= I’m looking to create a system where once it’s set up, I don’t have to fuck around with it. I can just add new content, publish books, and the system perpetuates itself. It’s like building a house around my books in the hopes that I can keep the writing process and my income completely stable. But first I have to make a system that works, that sells, and you know, I should probably advertise. >_>

If Amazon tanks, or the KU program fucks up and refuses to count pages again, or maybe they change it all completely again, my system would have to change to adapt. If Amazon decides to censor all mm fiction or says my books cross their acceptable line, again, the system would need to change. It’s always good to reevaluate and question your strategy for this kind of thing anyways, cuz just because something is working doesn’t mean it can’t be better, too.

So, yeah, there’s an inside look at some of the things I do to sell books. I find it all really fascinating <3 (I’m a nerd, sorry. XD) But hey, if you’re interested in understanding how some things on the Internet make money, this might be interesting to you as well. Nothing wrong with making a living.

Hope everyone is safe during this crazy hurricane season. Peace, babes.

Sneak Peak At Theodore From Demon Arms

Hey, peeps ^^

So I caught a cold this weekend. It’s dragging at me but so far I’m doing alright. Found myself at a party Saturday discussing Internet economics to politics to PTSD (because no, I don’t give a fuck about your kids) and somehow it’s Sunday night—Monday morning—and I’ve just slept the weekend away. So, for this week’s newsletter, I’m doing something random. I’m sharing my stuffed mushroom recipe that I just made cuz I wanted some decadent stuffed mushrooms (but are gluten, egg, and mold free unlike the ones at that party,) and I’m going to give you a sneak peek into the Demon Arms rewrite.

Now that my brain is, you know, ‘functioning’ XD I wanted to rewrite Demon Arms to ensure it matches the many novels that are to follow. The other novels do a lot of character changes as we go along. We see different aspects through different characters because these peeps are hanging around long term and even if their love story isn’t in the particular novel of the moment, they will be later. I wanted a kind of soap opera/community feel with the Academy guys. Which means, the dual perspective in Demon Arms needed some expanding. Which means, we need some grumpy as fuck Theo!

Wylie is never really going to know the shit Theodore goes through to ensure he isn’t picked off by sorcerers the moment he ends up in jail, but the readers are now going to get a clue. I love Theo, and I think he’s the perfect Academy caretaker to really feature for Demon Arms, cuz hey, dragon buddies. <3

But first, a recipe of delicious decadence

It’s one of my favs; Paleo, no carb, high fat, and perfect now that the weather is getting cold where I am—aka 3 days ago it was a heat wave and too hot to turn the oven on and now it’s cold and autumn. @_@ And just so we’re clear, I’m not someone who really ‘sticks’ to recipes. I change shit up when I have different stuff on hand, so this is all adjustable. I like diced kalamata olives instead of the crab, feta instead of goat cheese, scallions, almond meal for a little crunch, that sort of thing. It’s all good. Oh, and the love of my life can’t stand the texture of mushrooms, so this stuff does make a great dip too. I’ve made different versions all at the same time just to switch things up too. Stuffed mushrooms can be time consuming, so it’s nice to play when you do take the time.

• 1 Vidalia onion, chopped finely
• 6 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1 pound of bacon, crumbled
• 8 ounces of goat cheese, crumbled
• 1 can of crab meat
• 1/2 stick of butter
• 2-4 packages of baby bello mushrooms, washed with stems removed (I use the baby bellos cuz I like the mushroom/stuffing ratio better this way, and they’re damn filling, but your choice.)
• Salt, pepper, whatever seasoning you prefer. (I usually just salt stuff cuz of my mold allergy, but I’m sure there are a million ways to add some extra zing.)

Directions:

Cook and crumble bacon once cool (I cut it for ease.) Melt butter in a pan and saute onions and garlic together. While that’s cooking, mix the goat cheese with the crab meat and bacon in a large bowl. Then slowly mix in the onion and garlic that’s still hot/warm from the stove so the cheese melts down. Prep mushrooms, and preheat the oven to 350 F. Stuff the mushrooms with a small spoon (I pile it on high) and place on a buttered pan or oven safe casserole dish. Once the oven is preheated, pop the mushrooms in, and if you have an oven safe bowl, put any leftover stuffing in there to make a nice dip. Cook for @25-30 minutes until the tops are browned, and voila! Deliciousness! <3

An unedited sneak peak into the Demon Arms rewrite, aka, a peek at Theo being, er, homicidally emotional…

The October morning was just gaining heat when Theodore stalked out of the police station. The sidewalk was empty of everything but slowly dispersing mist, and the side street the station was located on was free of any Thursday morning commuters.

Redham was the suburb over from the sparsely populated town Collin had chosen to build his house. The police district covered the entire area, but were more used to dealing with traffic accidents and personal property damage than anything paranormal. The peaceful streets and friendly faces of the town had the opposite of a calming effect on Theodore as he sought a place free of interruption. Everywhere he looked, he saw only potential victims and gaps in security so wide, there would be no way to effectively fill them.

Theodore had arrived the moment the station allowed visitors in, but not before a sleepless eight hours as he and his colleagues worked to keep Collin McPherson alive. He was tired, cranky, and more than aware his magic was not responding as it should. The young man who was following doggedly after him was proof of that.

Theodore eyed the police intern as he paused by a decorative, black metal gate and patted down the pockets of his long coat. The intern stopped short when Theodore did and held out a plastic wrapped sandwich in offering. He couldn’t have been older than twenty and had a hopeful shine in his eyes that refused to fade no matter how much Theodore scowled.

“Get lost,” Theodore ordered.

The intern whimpered and knelt down on the concrete sidewalk. Theodore rolled his eyes when the man lifted the sandwich above his head and held it out like a ritual sacrifice.

“Damn it.” Theodore sighed heavily and did his best not to make eye contact. Short of spelling the guy to fuck off, there wasn’t much he could do. Hexing a human in broad daylight right outside a police station probably wasn’t the smartest of moves, even if he was seriously contemplating it. His power was fluctuating from all the stress of this insane situation. Although he’d only been there less than an hour, Theodore was already fed up with having to socialize with so many people. He hated people.

Theodore dug through his coat pockets while muttering under his breath each time he failed to find his goal. He only wore the long, black despoiler jacket when he was in the mood for battle, and the many hidden openings within the layers of fabric had saved his life more than he could count. In his current mindset and with only the basic of tasks required, Theodore discovered having so many pockets to be annoying as fuck.

He patted through a multitude of daggers, razors, wands, and a small sword made of diamond the metal detectors always failed to notice; vials of poisons, sedatives, excitatives, hallucinogenics, paralyzers, purifiers, and anesthetics all in uniquely shaped bottles just in case his sight was impaired; wards for all occasions, mostly for the killing and shielding kind; and deadly, impossibly strong wires and nets, some so thin they were nearly invisible to the human eye. His fingers caressed a particularly painful but nonlethal weapon the same moment he looked at the intern still kneeling like a fool. Theodore resisted the urge to see what a swarm of metal chiggers—spelled to burrow into the thickest of pelts and cause excruciating pain short term, and insanity long term—might do to human skin.

“Found you.” Theodore smiled grimly as he slipped his fingers free from his breast pocket and withdrew a slim, gold compact that fit into his palm. He clicked it open with his thumb and revealed an ordinary, circular mirror within. “Show me Michael Whiteheart.”

In seconds, his reflection faded and the mirrored glass grew misty. Theodore tapped his foot impatiently as the seconds ticked by. He glared down at his handmade, goatskin shoes dyed the color of blood with a shine so bright he could see his own reflection. They went with the suit, a bespoke number he had tailored to ensure he could move naturally—and more importantly, unnaturally—without destroying his clothes while also remaining professional in appearance. He’d once taken out an assassin and only had a wrinkle in the left pant leg to show for it, even with all the blood.

There was a soft whimper and Theodore glared sideways. The intern was still trying to entice him with the disgusting, premade sandwich riddled with carbs. He might have missed breakfast, but he was hardly desperate.

Theodore fixed his attention back to the mirror when a man’s face began to appear. He had a square jaw, strong, Roman nose, and piercing blue eyes that were currently sharp with agitation. “Michael,” Theodore greeted simply.

“Sorry for the delay. The guys are off the walls this morning. They know something is up but haven’t gotten wind of the details yet.” Michael’s eyes darted up, and by his exasperated expression and the sound of something crashing in the distance, he was still at the Academy. “Did you find our shifter punk?”

Theodore nodded and looked around to make sure he wasn’t being overheard. He scowled at the intern and turned fully. With a few quick words, he spelled up a cone of magic around him to absorb any vibration of the air and prevent sound from escaping. “Collin was right. The kid’s a dragon.”

“Fuck,” Michael growled. The mirror immediately emptied of his face, and Theodore was left to stare at a curtained window dripping in green and purple ivy while he listened to Michael rummage through his office for something.

“I got a call back from Doe’s detention house in West Bristol,” Michael explained. “He’s flagged. They’re going to have him on a bus to Daiker by this evening. I think my questions must have tipped someone off, because when I last checked, the Redhem cops hadn’t even classified him.”

Theodore pursed his lips and ignored the growing urge to walk the perimeter of the station and ensure it was free of danger. “It was only a matter of time,” he reminded gruffly. “Once the Lifecare paramedics identified the mark, we both knew it would be less than 24 hours before someone came around looking for dragon blood. Right now, Doe is in the safest cell this backwater precinct has until I can get him out of this death trap.” Theodore glanced over his shoulder at the intern and shook his head in disgust. “This place is a joke. They have no defenses in place that can impeded a sorcerer of our caliber.”

Michael reappeared in the mirror with his golden curls of hair askew. He squinted at something behind Theodore. “Who’s your friend?”

Theodore grimaced and moved the compact so Michael had a clear view of the kneeling intern. “They really need to work on their hiring process. He has no magical shielding, and I can’t shake him.”

Michael raised an eyebrow and focused on Theodore’s defensive expression. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Theodore muttered. Michael’s eyes bored into him and Theodore avoided his gaze.

“Here, pass me over,” Michael said abruptly. “I’ll take care of him.”

Theodore scowled at the idea of having to get that close to the intern. “Fine,” he huffed. He took down the sound dampening spell with a wave of his hand, and turned on his heel. The intern had his head down, and his arms were shaking from the strain of holding his hands above his head for so long. Theodore shook his head at the stupidity of it all and pointed to the spot right in front of his shoes.

“You. Come here. No, put down the disgusting sandwich.” Theodore held his hand up warningly when the intern jumped up and rushed toward him. “Small steps. Touch me and I’ll decapitate you.”

It was clearly a strain for the young man, and Theodore watched his every movement warily. The last time he lost control of his allure like this, he ended up with three very rude sets of hands trying to tear his clothes off.

“No, don’t kneel,” Michael said quickly when the intern stopped in front of Theodore. “Come on, Theo. Hand me over, then walk away. You know how your power gets.”

Theodore rolled his eyes but did as Michael asked. He placed the compact into the intern’s hands, who immediately held it close to his heart like it was a precious gift. Theodore took two steps back, and held his finger up when the intern went to follow. “No. Stay. Listen to him, That’s an order.”

Theodore stepped swiftly down the sidewalk, his ears straining to hear what Michael was saying. Michael, as usual, was unbearably calm and compassionate when it came to the magically enthralled.

“Greg, was it? I don’t think you can tell what you’re doing right now, so I thought I’d help you understand the situation you’re in. You see, you’re stalking my associate.”

“Wait, what? He loves me. I mean, well… What?”

“Yeah, I get that you believe that, but you don’t even know his name, right? He definitely doesn’t know yours. Can you remember when you first met him?”

“Uh… I saw him. He was walking down a hall and… and he left. I didn’t want him to leave.”

“Idiot,” Theodore muttered down at the leaves scattered on the pavement. “Stupid, punk idiot.”

“Yeah, not really something to build a relationship off of,” Michael said cheerfully. “The thing is, Greg, you’re coming on really strong, and my associate is starting to feel uncomfortable. You don’t want him to feel uncomfortable, right?”

“No, I… what? Who are you?”

“Let’s go for a walk, Greg. Turn, and start walking. In a few blocks, you’re going to start seeing things more clearly.”

“But… but he’s…”

“He told you to do as I say. You’re not going to ignore the magic man in the mirror, right, Greg? Come on, let’s go find some coffee.”

“For fuck sake,” Theodore growled when Greg started walking back toward the police station with Michael clutched in his grasp. With a flick of his finger, the compact sailed out of Greg’s hands and landed in Theodore’s palm. “Go!” He pointed down the street. “Get me a coffee from a shop more than four blocks away, then sit there. Do not return to work today.”

The intern blinked owlishly. “What kind…?”

“Black, no sugar. Now!” Theodore barked.

Greg was torn between his unnatural wish to stay in Theodore’s presence and the compulsion to do as he was told. Theodore’s glare won him over, and with a beaming smile, Greg turned and quickly jogged down the street to comply as readily as possible.

Theodore watched him go while wondering what fifty magically enhanced metal burrs would do to human flesh. It was probably irresponsible to not test them out on a human, really…

“Theo, you’re growling,” Michael spoke up from the compact. He draped a tie around his neck and efficiently twisted the knot in place.

Theodore only growled louder, then sighed abruptly. “He’s an idiot.”

“Who, Greg?” Michael shot him a sardonic grin. “You know what your allure does to humans. Hell, you can seriously mess up anyone when you actually try.”

“No, the kid.” Theodore combed fingers through his hair roughly. His scarlet locks fanned out and fell perfectly around his shoulders. “Fuck, he is such a stupid kid. He was joining a gang!”

“Theo, volume.”

Theodore spelled up another sound absorber and didn’t miss a beat. “Do you know how quickly Doe would have been hunted down if anyone in the underworld got wind about the ‘new kid’ who could tear through metal with his bare hands? I saw Collin’s door. Anyone with a fucking brain would know a dragon came through that mess.” Theodore cut his hand through the air in frustration. “If he was spotted even once pulling some kind of shit like that, it would be all over. Dead, he’d be dead! He’s not even an adult, and he’d be fucking dead.”

The compact sparked in his hand. Theodore snarled and glared at Michael, who peered back pointedly.

“Calm down. Your power is growing erratic.” Michael looked around the limited view his vantage gave him. “There are no wards where you are. Don’t make yourself a target by freaking out at the kid being an easy target.”

Theodore opened his mouth to tell Michael off, and his eyes burned with power. “Shit.” He raised his arm to block his gaze from Michael’s view. He took a deliberate, slow breath.

Michael pursed his lips. “You alright?”

“Fine. Pissed off,” Theodore added sharply. He bared his teeth and after a quick look around, stalked over to a maple tree surrounded by a metal grate. He ducked behind it where the bright red and orange leaves hid him from above. “Michael, if Collin hadn’t told us, that kid would already be…”

“But Collin did tell us,” Michael interrupted smoothly. “Even if he hadn’t, either you or I would have seen the healer mark and the door and put it together in moments.”

Theodore huffed up at the leaves above. “Only because you’re listed as Collin’s emergency contact. In one night we nearly lost two. My fuck, I can’t get over that. It was a 911 call, for fuck sake!”

Michael nodded calmly and shrugged into a suit jacket. “Yes, and now they’re allowed to deny service to paranormals. We knew this was coming.”

Theodore gritted his teeth and growled up at the sky. “It’s starting so quickly.”

“I’m surprised it wasn’t sooner,” Michael said flatly. “The precedent was set in that court case over a month ago, yet we’re only just seeing the first of private companies ignoring basic human rights for paranormals.”

“Because we’re not human, remember?” Theodore spat bitterly.

“Don’t repeat that disgusting drivel. Paranormals are absolutely human. Everyone should be treated with a basic level of dignity and respect no matter their appearance or abilities.”

“Yeah, good luck convincing the human race who still commits genocide on each other.” Theodore’s eyes sparked with rage. “Same but different might as well be asking to be murdered by these trigger happy, heartless fucks.”

Michael sighed. “Theo, I can’t believe I’m the one saying this to you, of all people, but you need to get your emotions under control. I don’t think I’ve seen you this shook up since, well, since Alex passed away.”

Theodore winced at the mention of his brother. “Don’t.”

Michael frowned sympathetically but didn’t push the subject. “We’re on top of this. Bear is here and he’s promised to stay the night if needed. I’m minutes from meeting with the governor to get Doe transfered. Everything is under control. You just need to keep your cool and remember why you’re there.”

Theodore closed his eyes and took another slow breath. This one seemed to take, and he followed it with a second and a third.

He didn’t want to think of Alexander, or how Wylie Doe was just a little too similar with his foul mouth and stupidly big heart. It wouldn’t matter who Doe was if he ended up dead. He wasn’t even nineteen, and Doe was going to have every homicidal sorcerer in the area looking to murder him before the day was out.

The gruesome reality was what Theodore needed after his difficult interview with Wylie. He had a job to do. He was going to do what the police couldn’t and keep Wylie Doe alive at all costs.

Theodore opened his eyes and fixed on Michael’s patient expression. “Any news on Collin?”

“Rob says he’s going to be fine. He had to put him in a magically induced coma for the energy transfer.”

Theodore raised an eyebrow. “He agreed to that? Seriously?”

“Of course not,” Michael said with a smirk. “Collin wouldn’t agree to anything until he called the governor personally and demanded Doe be released. Then he made me promise to make it happen.” Michael’s eyes grew stern with the responsibility he was carrying. “Listen, I don’t think the kid understands his healing comes with an energy drain. You might want to explain that to him. Collin said he’s new to healing in general.”

Theodore shook his head as he was hit with a fresh wave of frustration at the thought of Wylie. “He has no clue. I’m serious, Michael. He has no idea what he is and even less of a clue of what’s coming for him. The kid is ignorant as fuck. He’s lucky he’s alive because I have no idea how he made it under the radar this long.”

Michael was silent for a long moment. His voice was solemn once he spoke. “Good. That means he hasn’t lived his life in fear.”

Theodore sneered, his fangs sharp. “Don’t use that optimistic, silver lining bullshit on me, Whiteheart. The kid doesn’t know how to defend himself. Every asshole with a wand will be looking to bleed him dead and he doesn’t know fuck shit about anything.”

Michael fought a chuckle. “Sorry, forgot who I was talking to for a moment.” The mirror shifted as he grabbed a briefcase. “Have you gotten any sleep at all? You’re more bitchy than normal.”

“I’m awake enough to hex your ass through this portal,” Theodore warned. He pushed himself off the trunk of the tree, relieved to feel more like himself. “Get on that asshole governor and remind him how paranormals are actually human.”

Michael snorted. “You mean spell him stupid. Trust me, if I didn’t know that place was locked down with magical detectors, I’d use everything I have. The guy is bigoted as fuck.” Theodore’s frown turned grim at the reminder, and Michael caught the change. “We’re going to save this kid, Theo. We both know the odds if Doe ends up in Daiker.”

“He’ll be killed and dissected before he even gets there,” Theodore said tersely. He squared his shoulders and his eyes darted to the police station he needed to defend. “This is the only warning you get, Michael. If you can’t fix this through the proper channels, I’ll deal with it my way.”

Michael’s eyebrows drew down sharply. “Do no start killing…”

“I need to make a phone call.” Theodore clicked the compact shut without a goodbye and stuffed it in his breast pocket. He patted down his jacket and fished out a cell phone, saw it was Diego’s, and stuffed it back into the pocket.

“Fuck this day,” he muttered under his breath as he searched through his array of hiding places. “Winchester… Diane Winchester of Social Services… Ah ha!” Theodore held the phone up, only to frown when it refused to turn on. “Fucking magic!”

Theodore rummaged through his pockets again and pulled out a stack of small, heptagon wards. He sifted through and flipped each one over to discern which spell was which. “Stupid Michael. I’ll kill whoever I want to kill, Mr. nosy, overly ethical, bleeding Whiteheart who thinks he’s everyone’s knight in squeaky clean armor…” Theodore suddenly grinned, his teeth sharp, and slapped a buffer onto the back of his phone. The machine immediately chirped to life and the signal connected.

Theodore paused as he glared at the phone and exhaled heavily through his nose. He just needed to make it through the next hours and hope no one showed up to capture and kill his eighteen year old, ignorant as fuck, smartass dragon shifter. One day. After that, everything would be golden.

Demon Bonded #11 Now In Kindle Unlimited!

Hey babes,

Super quick newsletter this week. I wanted to let you know Demon Bonded #11 Cocky Self Inflicted Wounds is now available on Amazon Kindle Unlimited. So, if you’re an Amazon fan, you can now read it there for free with a KU subscription. It’ll be there for 90 days, then it goes wide with the rest of the Demon Bonded series on other platforms.

It looks like the tea tree oil mold treatment is working. It’s not as thorough as I hoped, but I think once I box up and remove all my books from the house, the rest will fall into place… hopefully. I’m kinda pissed I’m losing all my books. I’ve collected art books for years, some beautiful pieces that are now infested with mold. This thing took over my house really quick, destroyed a lot of property, and I’m not sure what’s going to be salvageable by the end. But hey, I got my health and my writing flow back, and that’s what matters.

Oh, and in case you missed it, Wendy’s book ‘Zeus: Conquering His Heart’ is free for the weekend. Snag it while it’s free (and hot! <3)