???????? HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME, HERE’S A BOOK FOR FREE! ????????

It’s my birthday, and that means I get to do what I want, and what I want to do today is thank each and every one of YOU lovely people for supporting me and having my back in one of the darkest spots I’ve had. It means the world to me to be a part of this amazing tribe of dark and twisted people who love better than anyone else I know. <3
 
AND because I wanna do it, I’m giving away unlimited FREE copies of ‘Security Binds Her’ (Book 1 of the Thalia Series) and I highly encourage you to share and share and share!
 
???? GRAB IT HERE ➡️ https://claims.instafreebie.com/free/qmxkT
 
ALSO! Anyone who comments with a “thank you!” or a comment about the book if you already have it will be entered to win a SIGNED PAPERBACK of the Thalia Series! Which, coincidentally, also serves as a wonderful bludgeoning tool if you should need it. (For real, it’s fucking massive).
 
Anyway, lovelies! It’s my bday and I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone in the world more than you guys! ENJOY! SHARE! READ THE DARK AND TWISTED! I love you all! <3
 
PS – contest will end sometime tomorrow… or the next day. Whenever I remember to turn off the download and pick a winner! It’s open to newsletter peeps too! <3

Teaser Wednesday! ‘The Devil You Know’ by Claire Marta!

I’m absolutely loving sharing all of these dark reads with you guys, so I had to do a #TeaserWednesday this week too! This one is ‘The Devil You Know’ by Claire Marta, and it’s on sale for just 99¢! Not just that, but this scene below is going to get you all wound up and with the reviews I checked out, I know this is going to be another favorite for the Dark Haven! <3 Enjoy!

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The Devil You Know by Claire Marta

My name is Mavi StClair.

I’m a monster with a pretty face. An assassin in trade. Guilt, remorse, it’s never touched me. I’m as cold as they come and just as professional. Dealing death has always come easily, and I inflict it with ease. It fuels and feeds the twisted darkness inside me. My downfall begins with a single night of untamed passion leaving me hungering for more of him.

One wicked soul recognizing another.

Now he owns me.

The lines of what I know are blurred. I’m playing his game. A pawn, eternally tangled in a web of secrets and lies. He won’t let me go. Taking pleasure in my fall from grace.

Question is, can I save myself before I’m damned completely?

* * *

Teaser

I want him to consume me, fuck me hard until my limbs are limp and my body is spent. The chair thumps below us in tempo with our movements.

“You’re beautiful sitting on my cock.” He tells me between grunts. “I could fuck you to death right now.”

“It would be one hell of a way to go if you did.” I moan back. A tingle at the base of my spine begins to grow. Stiffening up, I come hard. In waves, it smashes through me. Grinding myself against his pumping shaft, I feel my inner walls squeeze him tighter.

Max doesn’t stop. Drilling into me harder, he continues with more purpose.

I want to drive him over the edge. Send him coiling down into the insanity that takes me every time we come together like a force of God damn nature.

Panting, unintelligible cries keep breaking from my throat. Everything is sliding into something savage. More animalistic. An orgasm envelops me. It’s so intense it sends a burst of light out from my core. I feel like I’m about to explode into a million pieces, the energy is so overwhelming.

Ecstasy. Max is like a magician. Bringing me to orgasm after orgasm. I can’t imagine anyone else as deep in me as he is at any point onwards. He’s infatuated me.

Placing a hand on the back of my head, he brings me down for a kiss. Falling into a fevered exploration, our tongues entwine.

I’m starting to crave Max more and more. He’s like a drug. Seducing me deliciously every time. One that only gets better and better. Spiraling me down into something I am not sure I will ever want to be free from. Heaven help me.

* * *

I freaking love it when I check out a book and find a bunch of reviews talking about how dark and twisted a book is! It makes me want to dive in even more, especially after that tempting sex scene. #purr You know you want to find out more!

Amazon: 1-click now!

* * *

Want more of Claire Marta?

A native Brit, I live in Italy with my husband and daughter. When I am not writing and drinking copious amounts of tea, I enjoys taking photos of my adoptive country, trying to stay fit with running, reading amazing books and being a stay at home mother.

Teaser Tuesday! ‘Whispers in the Dark’ by LeTeisha Newton!

Oh, lovelies, I am so glad that I’m back because there have been so many fantastic releases and I want to share ALL OF THEM WITH YOU! ‘Whispers in the Dark’ first caught my attention with the title, and then that gorgeous cover, and now that I’ve read the warning below? Let’s just say my interest is officially piqued! <3 Check it out, lovelies!

Warning for ‘Whispers in the Dark’: This book is full of triggers. It’s wicked dark, with created evil falling in love. People die. They are hurt horribly. The bad guys get away, and there is no apology for it. Hardcore trigger within these pages.

I’m in, are you? #cackles

* * *

Whispers in the Dark by LeTeisha Newton

I was captured …

That’s just the beginning of my tale. I’ve survived Purgatory, abuse, and near death. In that abandoned farmhouse I nearly lost everything, but Jacob saved me. We were trapped in this hell together, giving each other the strength to hold on. I fell into darkness with my captor’s son.

Until I left him behind.

She was perfect, my Alana. Brilliant and full of pain. She understood my darkness and fueled the fire. When she left, I waited patiently to find her, and in her honor, I killed men who took away from innocents.

Then I found her …

She’s deadly now, a killer too, and perfectly mine. It was beautiful to behold, but she belongs in a cage. My cage. She’ll love me again, or I’ll expose her dirty secrets for the world to see while going down in flames with her.

In darkness, it’s most definitely till death do us part.

* * *

Teaser

Leaving me to my misery, Master and the doctor left the room to speak in harsh whispers in the hallway. Curling myself into a ball, I kept crying harder and harder until I was gasping for breath. Master threw a glare my way before leading the doctor far away from my room.

The pain, the loss, shot through me like I was taking a bullet to the heart. How could I have done this? How could I put my precious little one through something this awful? I was as bad as Master. I was a monster like him. Crying harder at my thoughts, my eyes caught on the doorway in time to see someone peeking in. My body relaxed in one great whoosh. Jacob was here. He slipped into the room and crept into the bed with me. Ignoring the blood and filth on the towels, for the first time, Jacob took me into his arms. I curled into his chest, inhaling his clean, crisp scent through the tears.

“I’m sorry, Alana. I couldn’t get here sooner, and I can’t stay here long. He’ll come back soon.”

It didn’t matter. He was here now, and I clung to him, curling my fingers into his shirt and holding on desperately. In his arms, the pain dulled, and I could handle it. I could cry into his chest and be held. I could be fragile, and he’d catch the broken pieces. His lips trailed up the side of my neck, soft kisses that pushed away the agony and warmed me.

“You can do it. You’re strong enough. Hold on a little longer,” he whispered into my skin. I believed it because he did too.

So I lifted my face so his lips could touch mine.

Soft and warm, his mouth was different. He slipped over the scars of my abuse and filled in the cervices left behind. Maybe it was the medicine making me fanciful, but I thought I could ask for this. That maybe I would ask him to take me. That I’d like to have him. But then, he was pulling away.

“I have to go. I’ll be with you later. Look for me.”

And as fast as he’d come, he was gone, but the pain was behind a wall, one he’d built high. He gave me strength, and I would use it to survive. I’d done the right thing, as horrible as it was, and I knew he didn’t judge me for it. We’d done this together, and it made the load easier to bear. Master stomped his way back into the room, face scarlet and chest heaving like a locomotive. I wanted to cringe at his bald fists, but I couldn’t move. I was too tired, or too resigned maybe, to care.

* * *

Dark promises in this one, lovelies. I can’t imagine where it will go with a teaser like that, but I can bet there will be blood and darkness and devastation before the end comes. So, are you in?

Amazon: 1-click now!

* * *

Want more of LeTeisha Newton?

Writing professionally since 2008, LeTeisha Newton’s love of romance novels began long before it should have. After spending years sneaking reads from her grandmother’s stash, she finally decided to pen her own tales. As many will do during their youth, she bounced from fantasy, urban literature, mainstream, interracial, paranormal, heterosexual, and LGBT works until she finally rested in contemporary romance.

LeTeisha is all about deep angst and angry heroes who take a bit more loving to smooth their rough edges. Love comes in many sizes, shapes, and colors, as well as with—or without—absolute beauty and fairy tale sweetness. She writes the darker tales because life is hard … but love is harder.

 

Music Monday – How do you Like it

Today’s #MusicMonday is a fun one, lovelies! In honor of the release of the ‘When the Dark Wins’ boxset, I am sharing this song that just makes me shiver in all the right ways… because it’s fucking hot and a bit twisted. I do hope you’ll enjoy it, because it’s been on my playlist for a bit. Anyway, I’m on a work trip this week, and then I have RT Book Con next week! There’s no official video for this song, BUT I reaaallllyyy hope you scroll down and enjoy this one, lovelies! <3

Lyrics

I might be a tad naive,
but I learn quick.
I will shatter your belief
that I’m so innocent.

So savor your surprise,
I could tip you like a vintage wine.
A whisper down your neck,
I could wrap your muscles tight,
or sing your silhouette.
Darlin, please don’t make me guess…
How do you like it best?
How do you like it?

You are such an Gentleman,
you touch me like a flower,
like a petal that could bend.
When we talk we sound like friends.
I dont want to take the heat,
you rise in me so secretly,
and let it go unsaid,
so dainty in my head.

Cause baby all the time,
I could tip you like a vintage wine.
A whisper down your neck,
I could wrap your muscles tight,
or sing your silhouette.
Darlin, please don’t make me guess…
How do you like it best?
How do you like it?

You might have a few years on me,
but I’m no little girl,
I’m no little lady.
Yeah, you might have a few years on me.
So if you’re such a man,
tell me how you take me
when you sip me like a vintage wine.
When you sip me like a vintage wine.

I could tip you like a vintage wine.
A whisper down your neck,
I could wrap your muscles tight,
or sing your silhouette.
Darlin, please don’t make me guess…
How do you like it best?
How do you like it?

‘How do you Like it’ by Jynjo (feat. Spritely)

Teaser Wednesday! ‘Rain’ by CE Johnson!

Well, I didn’t have this intense snippet in time to post it on Teaser Tuesday, but that’s why I have backup graphics for when Teaser Tuesday needs to slide around… or be extended. In this case, once I read the sneak peek of ‘Rain’ by CE Johnson I knew I couldn’t wait until next week to share it! IT’S SO GOOD! Check out this hot cover and the heart-pounding sneak peeks below before you 1-click! You won’t regret it!

* * *

Rain by CE Johnson

Charlie had it all.
Beauty. Brains. And the guy.
Until the perfect boyfriend went from heaven to hell.
Fearful for her life, and the sting of his hand still lingering on her cheek, she runs.
But she knows he won’t let her go so easily.

Determined to leave his crime-ridden life behind, Rain retreated deep into the Oregon woods.
He has everything he needs.
A beautiful home and a life of solitude.
But when an injured woman staggers onto his property, he can’t help but think she’s part of an elaborate setup.
His gut says believe her.
His paranoia says trust no one.
His heart, however, is completely screwed.

Will enemies from both of their pasts ruin their chance at a future, or will love find a way?

* * *

Teaser

The crunching of the forest floor beneath my feet makes me cringe, but there’s no time to slow down. I’m desperate to get as far away from this car as possible, so I run. Whether it is Austen or someone who would call the police, neither will turn out good for me. Austen has connections in and around Portland. If he’s woken up and knows I’m gone, he’ll have every one of his friends—whether they work for the law or against it—looking for me. They aren’t looking to make sure I’m okay either. I’ll never forget the smirk on the police officer’s face when he brought me back to Austen the last time I left. For a brief moment, I thought I saw empathy in the cop’s eyes, but that disappeared when Austen handed him a wad of cash. Neither his morals nor the uniform he put on every day were enough to stop him from handing me over to the devil. I’m shaken from the memory as I almost lose my footing to a stick on the ground.

Running isn’t my forte. Hell, I hate briskly walking. I severely lack the endurance it takes to run a long distance on a flat surface, much less through the thick, uneven forest. The trees are unforgiving, and I have to dodge left and right every few feet to avoid running into anything. Lightheadedness taunts me, making the trees tilt, but I keep going. After running quite the distance from the car, I finally stop to catch my breath and shake the weakness away. Dread enters into my bloodstream as the sound of feet on the ground assaults my ears. Standing still, I try to pinpoint which direction they are coming from. Suddenly, they stop and there’s nothing but the sound of the forest at night.

Could it be my own echo? Am I imagining things?

Cautiously, I keep trekking on. It’s a struggle to see anything in the dark. Even the moonlight would have helped light my way, but of course, the clouds conceal it tonight. My very small flashlight only lights directly in front of my feet, so at least I can watch where I step, but I’m trying to use it sparingly. Although the forest has become quiet again, I can’t shake the feeling of eyes on me, watching my every move. It’s probably just animals. Even the thought of bears doesn’t frighten me as much as what could be coming for me. They could eat me alive and still I would prefer that death to Austen. The feeling grows stronger and my body freezes, trying desperately to see if my paranoia proves true. Then, it becomes frightfully obvious as steps become louder. Tears fill my eyes as they frantically spin, only seeing shadows of tall trees all around. The sight alone is dizzying, but I have to get away. I shut off my flashlight and, blindly, I run. The footsteps in the dead plant material on the forest floor come closer no matter which way I turn. Frenzied, I dodge between the trees as everything around me becomes a blur. A large trunk appears right in front of me and I bolt my way around it. The air pushes from my lungs. Terror takes over as I run right into a large, hard body. A bright light flashes into my face, and all I see is the barrel of a gun aimed right between my eyes.

* * *

I know, I KNOW, it’s already so good, but because I can’t resist, here’s another quick teaser! I CAN’T WAIT TO READ THIS!

* * *

Teaser 2

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“Rain.”

Curiosity fills her eyes, but she doesn’t ask anything else.

“Thank you,” she whispers as she puts her wrapped arm back at her side.

Sitting back in the chair, I nod and feel the pull from a muscle on one side of my cheek. Her eyes dip to my mouth, taking in the half smile that I didn’t mean to do. It disappears quickly as a loud knock on the door sends her flying out of the seat. I rise forcefully but steady until she collides with me. Ignoring the small woman against me, I grab my gun from the counter. Instead of leaping for the door for someone to rescue her from me, she latches onto my arm. Her grip is so tight that it could draw blood, and all I can think about is how amazing her touch feels against my skin. It takes me a minute to regain the fact that someone is at my fucking door. I look down to her long fingers begging for protection. For saving. It’s possible she’s a really good actress. But what if she isn’t and there is something truly evil torturing her? I don’t know what is wrong with her. But for the first time in years—and with no idea how I got to this point already—I give a fuck enough to find out.

* * *

Are you as intrigued as I am? I seriously am already in love with Rain and this is all I’ve read about him. But you know how quickly I melt for a man with a dark side. #purr You’ve got to check this out, lovelies! It’s even on Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: 1-click now!

* * *

Want more of CE Johnson?

C.E. Johnson is an author of contemporary and suspense romance novels. Her first novel Done (In the Dark Series, #1), released in May 2017.

When not writing until all hours of the night (with lots of late night coffee runs), she loves to read books that feature a strong male with a soft spot for his feisty heroine. She prefers stories that rip your heart out completely, then kindly place it back into your chest with a HEA.

She lives in a suburb of Chicago with her husband, two kids, and some spoiled rotten animals.

You can connect with her on

Music Monday – Asking for a Friend (Stripped)

Look at that, the first #MusicMonday since chaos stormed my life hardcore. This song, “Asking for a Friend” by Annabel Jones, stumbled upon me during the insanity and it struck me because it seemed to ring so true to me in that state (after you read the lyrics you won’t be surprised why). Not to mention it’s beautiful, and just her and a piano which is just so perfect with her clear voice. Enjoy, lovelies.

Lyrics

How are you happy?
I’m asking for a friend.
Smiling and laughing, even when you’re feeling bad…
How do you stay clear?
I’m asking for a friend.
Even when you’re here, you’re somewhere else instead.

When every day is agony, it’s hard
to find somewhere where you can still belong.
Summer almost came but you left us.
Things were really bad, things got pretty tough.

Trouble, trouble followed you,
sadness, sadness swallowed you.
Call to the dark, it was broke from the start,
love won’t fix that part.

How can you find sleep?
I’m asking for a friend.
Quiet, still, and deep, it was simpler back then.
How do you stay close?
I’m asking for a friend.
Stay up, sweet recalls,
maybe you’re better off like that.

When every day is agony, it’s hard
to find somewhere where you can still belong.
Summer almost came but you left us.
Things were really bad, things got pretty tough.

Trouble, trouble followed you,
sadness, sadness swallowed you.
Call to the dark, it was broke from the start,
love won’t fix that part.

Love won’t fix that part.

I’m asking for a friend…

‘Asking for a Friend’ by Annabel Jones

Dark times, day jobs, and pseudonyms

I know I’ve been gone for a long time, and I know that so many of you wonderful lovelies have reached out through FB, Twitter, and email, and I’ve been awkwardly silent. Honestly, I haven’t been on FB at all in over a month. Pretty much the only people who were able to get a peep from me are those who have my cell phone number to text me. And I know I owe you guys at least some semblance of an explanation, so here’s my best attempt (with GIFs where possible).

But for those not in the mood to read about my life, just know I’m sorry I’ve been gone, and know that I’m working to get back on track.

For those who want to, here it is. <3

You know that feeling you get when everything is going great and you start to get really nervous because you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop? For something bad to happen to balance out all of the good stuff? Like you’re walking a very thin rope over disaster, just trying to keep everything going so you don’t fall?

No? Well, maybe that’s just me.

I’m a realist, and on the spectrum of optimist to pessimist I generally lean towards cautiously pessimistic to prepare myself for disaster (and it blends oh so seamlessly with my anxiety)… but, whether you’re an optimist / realist / pessimist you probably know what I’m talking about by now, and in December and January I was riding a high like no other. ‘Destruction’ was killing it, people were loving ‘Imperfect Monster’, and we had the next Black Light Roulette box set getting ready to go. I felt amazing. It was like I finally felt like I’d figured out this whole author thing.

On top of that I got a major promotion at work, one I’ve been working towards for three years. It was something I wanted really, really badly because I was already doing so many of the responsibilities – and when the stars suddenly aligned and I got the opportunity (and the job) I felt like I had exploded through Cloud 9 and into the stratosphere of unbelievable good luck.

My kiddo was doing better, my mom was feeling well, everything just seemed to be perfect.

Which, is kind of the issue. I want to be perfect all the time. I hold myself to that, and as many of you know by now, I’ll kill myself to do it. I could almost see it from the very beginning, right after I took the new job at work, because the huge project I was supposed to take on in the role was… much larger than anyone involved had ever expected. It was one of those things where from afar it doesn’t look like such a big deal, kind of like driving in the rain and seeing standing water on the road. It never looks deep, but sometimes it is. Sometimes it’s deep enough to take you, the car, and the road with it.

In Texas they say “turn around, don’t drown” all the time during epic storms, because as humans we have this weird sense of invincibility that we definitely shouldn’t have. We drive the car straight into the water, and realize too late the water is deep, and we’re fucked.

I was drowning pretty soon after I took on the project. We figured out just how screwed we were based on the deadline, and we got to work. Except, this was unlike any other work I’ve ever done for this company. At first it was just stress-filled days that left me exhausted in the evenings, ineffective at pretty much everything except keeping my kid alive. I managed to do a cursory edit on the Thalia series to get it ready for the epic re-release, and my PAs (Michelle Brown and Niki Roge) made miracles happen to help me get those books launched with any kind of fanfare. The covers were gorgeous, people loved them, and then Amazon bitch-slapped many of us into erotica categories (and I still don’t have some of my books fixed) and fucked up the connections on the ebooks to new paperbacks, which took every ounce of energy I had at night to try and fix.

And then things just got worse.

The Dark and the Day Job

As my author stuff fell apart, with no new word counts, falling behind on promises and commitments and fixing KDP issues… work just went to hell. It was like every time we got one thing checked off, two more things exploded. There was always more to be done, and everything was urgent and important and omg on fire, Jen, we need to fix this right now. So, long stress-filled days turned into working nights and weekends. All of my usual “author time” was eaten up by this apocalyptic project that we had to get as close to perfect as possible because every leader in our company was aware of it, talking about it, and waiting for it.

And I was the main person for all of it. The project manager, the senior on it, the owner. I’d volunteered for it, and wanted it… and I still did. I just couldn’t breathe, couldn’t find a single moment to come up for air.

It was a never ending cacophony of chaos that seemed to only get worse and worse. I can’t even explain how stressful it was, how exhausted I was, and how insane I felt to be spending every waking moment of my life on it with the ever looming deadline threatening to ruin everything we’d worked so hard for, threatening to destroy my reputation in this new position before I’d even had the chance to prove myself. I was running on empty, but there was no choice but to keep going.

During this mess we lost several employees on our team at work (people who could have been working on this project). Two got promoted to other positions, one quit, one went out on leave, and one position was never even back-filled from when it went empty last year. Our department had never been so understaffed in three years, and we were working on the largest scale project we had ever attempted in the shortest timeline we’d ever committed to. In the middle of this, my manager also got promoted and I got a new manager, the other manager in our department left, and if you’ve ever worked in a big company you probably have an understanding of the constant hum of internal screaming and anxiety / panic / fear that I lived with for months.

All of the light I’d started the year with was getting blotted out by the darkness, and I was getting sucked into the pit no matter how hard I clawed to stay up, to pull my head above water, and I hadn’t even reached the bottom yet.

You know how people say things get worse before they get better? I hate how fucking true it is.

It had been months of killing myself for this project, and it was set to launch on April 9th. The week before that, I hit the lowest point in my corporate career that I ever have. You see, I don’t write under my real name because I have a day job. I need my day job to pay my bills and take care of my daughter, because I’m a single mom, and I need health insurance, and a car, and an apartment, and currently author income just isn’t reliable enough to do that. So, I protect my corporate career by using a pseudonym. I don’t share my pseudonym with people very often, especially at work, because I don’t want to lose my day job. It has always been my worst fear that somehow my company would find out what I write and either make my job life so uncomfortable I’d have no choice but to leave, or straight up fire me.

But, that’s a ridiculous fear, right? Why would a company care what I do in my personal time?

I’ve seen people rant on social media about how people who write under pseudonyms are fake, or hiding, or whatever… but those people probably aren’t facing the backlash that many of us are.

Before I continue, let’s get one thing straight.

Pseudonyms are Fucking Important

And they should be respected, and protected, and if you are fucking lucky enough to learn the true identity of an author you should understand how precious that knowledge is.

Why am I on this soapbox?

Because the week before my giant monster of a project went live for pilot testing, the week when we were all working long hours to get every last minute thing done, when none of us were sleeping… someone called our anonymous HR report line and reported me for being an author, writing / promoting myself on company time, using company equipment, handing out “pornography”, and a host of other ridiculous accusations that left me stunned and broken by the end of my investigation interview with one of our HR people. Someone who, by the way, I work with regularly in my position at my company.

This person not only revealed my pseudonym, but also provided links to all of my social media, my website, Black Collar Press, and links to my specific books on Amazon. I spent an hour being interviewed by HR about my “sadomasochistic sex books” and being asked whether or not I had ever “pushed pornography” on my coworkers, and a lot of other humiliating and traumatizing shit. This HR coworker of mine has read through my social media accounts and my website. She knows more about me than anyone at my job has any right to know. Then, they took my work laptop to have IT review it to see if I had done any of those things (which I had not), but it meant I wasn’t able to work for an entire night on this insane project, while I waited to see if I’d be fired / written up / etc.

Now, I openly talk about myself here, I write the ‘Ask Me Anything’s to help people, and I do all of that under my pseudonym. I don’t talk about those things at work, I don’t do any of the things I was accused of by a person who was clearly after me for some insane reason, and while I am 99% sure who reported me… I don’t know for sure, and I can’t really say anything else on that topic except that I hope that karma is a bitch.

I was cleared by HR the next day, which was appropriate since I’ve never done anything author related on my work laptop, but as I told a few of my close friends… “You can’t unring a bell.” Whether or not I’ve been cleared of anything wrong at work, I still have to wonder now A) who knows this about me, B) who has looked up my information and now looks at me differently, and finally, C) how will this ultimately affect my career for as long as I have it.

All questions I can’t answer, but honestly, I wish that was all that happened that week.

On top of all the chaos of the actual project and the looming deadline, the nightmare of an HR investigation, and my entire world crumbling around me – the Dom decided that now was the time for me to make a decision on whether or not I could make him a priority in my life.

It hit me out of left field, and was not what I had expected, but we’ve always had the agreement that this was about mutual gratification, and I wasn’t available for him. In fact, I hadn’t been available to him for weeks (between work and getting sick because of work and my kid’s bday and everything else). So, I told him I would think about it and respond after I’d thought about it. And I did, and agreed that we should stop seeing each other because he deserves someone who can spend more time with him than I can. Not sure what that means for the future, and I have no idea what it really means at all actually, I just know that right now I’m too numb and overwhelmed to really process anything.

So, for now at least, the Dom is out of the picture.

Within all of this fucked up mess, my mom’s health has been on a constant rollercoaster of chaotic ups and downs. One of my close friends who was my parent-with-cancer buddy lost her father, and it was a wake-up call that it really does end in death. All of it does. Everything. I tried to be there for her as much as I could, but I’m sure I failed her just as much as I have the Dom, my other friends, and all of you. I was at the hospital with my mom on Tuesday this week  looking at how skeletal she looks, how frighteningly frail and thin and weak, and it feels like a constant ticking clock that runs under my whole life.

Because, let’s be honest, none of this is going to matter the day she dies. Not the day job, not authorlandia, not my responsibilities, or my commitments. I’ll function for my kiddo, and that’s it. Everything else is going to dissolve for a little while, and cancer is a blessing and a curse in the sense that I get to say all of the things I want to say to my mom, and I get to take photos, and do things for her, and hold her hand – but I also have to constantly ask myself “Is this it?” every time she gets really sick.

The rollercoaster of that is just one more piece of tinder on the overall dumpster fire that my life has been the last couple of months.

But, now you know why I haven’t been around. Why I’ve been a total ghost, and haven’t responded to your emails or your messages or comments or tags, etc. I am very slowly bringing myself back to reality, but reality is new and different now. So many things have shifted and changed. Work is a very different landscape, my home life is changing, my world is just… different, and I’m trying to figure out how to deal with all of it.

Just know that even when I disappear, I’m never ungrateful for everything you guys have done for me. You guys make all of this possible, and even the fact that you care when I disappear is incredibly uplifting and warming. I hope to one day be a full-time author so that my pseudonym doesn’t matter quite so much, and then we can all look back on this dumpster fire and laugh about how terrified I was to lose my day job (or at least I can dream about it, right? borrow a little optimism from the optimists?).

The world is a pretty screwed up place, but at least we always have each other. We always have our tribe here that never judges us, or tries to ruin our lives, or tells us to pretend we’re okay when we’re definitely not. Because it’s okay to not be okay sometimes, it’s okay to be a dumpster fire sometimes, and it’s okay to disappear when we need to and come back when we’re ready.

“It’s always darkest before the dawn.”

Here’s to the coming dawn, lovelies.

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