Life’s been insane. I started working almost full-time at a local convenience store chain. Escaped my abuser’s home (and yes, I came to terms with the fact that it was abuse, in the past year).

In that time, I’ve been writing. I’ve been competing, too. Remember that writing competition on LJ I waxed poetic about? Well, season 9 started back in… March?

It’s still going.

We’re like three weeks or so away from reaching the top 50.

And I am clawing my way into that coveted range of people. My true goal is Top 25.

In the past year, I’ve split up my Tomorrow Trilogy into three separate books, each with their own separate story lines and casts. Gray Morning is still titled that — Gray Morning. Ryan (previously Ryin) has his own world to play in, and so does Jordine and the Hooban race.

I’ve written several new short stories I intend to try and push out into the world.

And my erotica writing has, sadly, ground to a halt. I intend to resume it, and I’m editing all five pieces for Say What You Want to publish as a single book — but I am debating on adding another “bonus” chapter to the end. My muses want to, and I think it might benefit the story if I did, but finding the energy to write that much unabashed smut right now is difficult.

My life, right now, is so much better than it was a year ago. And while I’m not writing as much as I used to, I’m still writing, and I’m piecing together a new draft for Gray Morning. Behold, a little of what I have cobbled together, today:


“Where were you?” Savin growled once the door shut behind him. “The Empire’s been fucking falling apart –”

“I know,” Jazz murmured, frowning.

“They think you’re dead!” Savin shouted, throwing his keys down on the little stand beside his door. He tugged off his jacket and tossed it aside, storming past Jazz once he slipped his shoes off his feet.

“I know,” Jazz whispered, his voice quiet and subdued.

“They think I did it!” Savin turned sharply on his heel, running his fingers through his hair. “Do you know how long it took for them to let me go back to my job? Fucking Amelia kept an eye on me for at least a month — I almost got fired — I –” He cut himself off, noticing the look on Jazz’s face.

“Do you blame them?” Jazz asked, his back nearly to the door, his lip caught underneath his teeth. “You did tell them what happened, right?”

Savin paused, the anger having been sucked from his lungs. He frowned and looked away from Jazz. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “They only wanted to know where you were — and since I didn’t know…”

Jazz nodded, still chewing on his bottom lip as he turned his gaze towards the floor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just — I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Savin said, turning on his heel and waving his hand dismissively in the air. He kept talking as he moved towards his bedroom, tugging his top over his shoulders as he walked. “I really fucking don’t, okay? You left, and my life nearly fucking fell apart, and I don’t give a shit anymore.”

He slammed his bathroom door behind him and shed the rest of his clothes. He needed a shower. Needed to get away and just forget that Jazz was even there. In his apartment. Alive. And apparently no worse for wear, even after the past six months, and —

Savin shut off the water and tugged his jeans back over his waist. Anger filled him again, and he marched out of the bathroom, arms folded over his bare chest. “Where the fuck where you, anyway?” he snapped, his nails digging into his upper arms. “You’re the fucking Emperor — how could you just abandon your whole fucking Empire like that?”

Jazz flinched, his back still to the front door. His face flushed and he kept his eyes low. “I thought it would be in good hands,” he said, fidgeting.

Advertisements