#blackwriters — Public Fediverse posts

“Of Couture and Supers” Full-Length Chapter Preview”

Ellen Montclaire’s office had never looked more like a war room disguised as a sanctuary. The Spartan lines of her desk, the aviator frames catching the late-afternoon light, the faint scent of tuberose and something sharper-gun oil, perhaps, or the particular perfume of people who had already decided who would live. Jim Nelson stood at her left, GQ’s editor-in-chief in charcoal Tom Ford that made him look like a very expensive executioner. I had barely closed the door when Mike and Ian arrived with River between them, two plainclothes officers peeling off at the threshold like shadows that knew their place.

River looked intact. That was the first mercy. His jaw was tight, his eyes already scanning the room the way a House mother scans a ballroom for shade and safety. He crossed to me without speaking and took my hand under the desk, a private gesture that would have been unthinkable six weeks ago.

Ellen did not waste time on greetings. “The text,” she said. “Read it again, Alcide. Out loud. I want everyone in this room to hear the exact temperature of the threat.”

I did. The rhyme sat in the air like cheap cologne.

River exhaled through his nose. “Of course she got out. Of course she found the one man in Texas who still thinks my dead name is a prayer. Mother never needed a lawyer so much as she needed an audience. Jarrett Morgan is her new front row.”

Jim’s voice was dry as good gin. “Forrester’s counsel is the sort who bills in blood types. She walked because the Reagans’ deaths were ruled justifiable by the agents on that rooftop. The insurance policies, however, remain. Two million each. That kind of money does not forgive. It only waits.”

“They’ll try to paint us as unstable,” River said. “Unstable, ungrateful, un-American. They’ll leak something during Paris-photos, a planted story, a ‘concerned source’ who swears we were seen with the wrong people at the wrong hour. Mother always preferred character assassination before the actual kind.”

Ellen’s gaze could have cut Givenchy silk. “The fashion houses, the magazines, the designers who matter-they already know who you are. They know the Lancaster-Monroe line. They know River Forrester is not a scandal; he is a fact. Anyone who attempts to discredit either of you will find their invitations revoked before the first look walks. That is not sentiment. That is policy.”

I kept my voice even. “What do we actually do? Besides look expensive and refuse to die.”

Jim answered. “FBI and CIA have already coordinated with Interpol. The French, Italian, and British details have your files. Several of our people-heroes who do not clock out when the lights go down-will travel with the official parties. You will not be alone in a corridor, a fitting room, or a hotel elevator. You will also not be reckless. Recklessness is a luxury for people whose grandparents did not leave a ledger.”

River’s thumb brushed my knuckles. “We already made that promise on a rooftop, Jim. We keep it.”

Ellen stood. The movement was small and final, the way Miranda Priestly used to stand when a collection had been approved or a career ended. “Tomorrow morning you meet Ra’Keem, Ja’Nisha, and Snow. Wardrobe upgrade. Style seminar. Paris is not New York with better bread. Paris is a stage that remembers every misstep for a decade. You will walk it as Guardians-in-training and as the last two interns who refused to fold. You will look as if you were born to it because, in the only way that matters, you were.”

Emilia entered without knocking, tablet in hand, the itinerary already glowing. She set it between us like a treaty.

“Monday: arrival, fittings at the Ritz, dinner with the Mughelli and Watanabe representatives. Tuesday: Dior, then the liaison briefing with the French detail. Wednesday: Givenchy and the first September-issue roundtable. Thursday: Valentino, followed by the private salon for the Asian houses. Friday: Chanel and the night the villains usually try something theatrical. You will also continue every ordinary duty-coffee, proofs, dry cleaning, holding a lens when Marcel needs a second pair of hands that do not shake. The celebrities will still test you. The politicians will still want to be seen with you. You will still be the ones who remember the oat-milk shot and the exact temperature of a smoothie.”

I almost smiled. Almost.

Ellen’s voice dropped into the register that used to make entire floors go silent. “Paris Fashion Week is the beginning of the public proof. You do not merely attend. You represent the bridge your grandparents built and your parents burned. You will show the world that chosen family, hard work, and the refusal to become furniture are not weaknesses. They are the only currency that still holds.”

River looked at me then, really looked, the way he had in my apartment the night we stopped pretending we were only allies. “We said it before they took me. We watch each other’s backs. We finish the summer. We show them who we are when the cameras are on and when they are not. This time we do it knowing the knives are already drawn.”

I squeezed his hand once, hard enough to mean it. “Say less.”

Ellen’s mouth did the smallest thing that might have been approval. “Good. Now get out of my office. Both of you have a city to survive and a wardrobe that is currently insufficient for what is coming. Tomorrow you will look like you belong in every room that ever tried to keep you out. That is not optional.”

We stood. Mike and Ian fell in behind us without being asked. The officers at the door nodded once, the way men nod when they have already decided they will take a bullet if the arithmetic requires it.

In the elevator River leaned his forehead against the cool metal for three seconds. “She’s going to try to make us look like the problem,” he said quietly. “Like we brought the violence with us.”

“Then we will be so precisely ourselves that the lie won’t have anywhere to sit,” I answered.

The doors opened onto the sixth floor that no longer felt like an intern’s floor. My new office waited. The passport would arrive tomorrow. The clothes would be chosen tomorrow. The threat had already arrived.

We walked toward the next hour the way people walk toward a ballroom when they already know the judges are watching and the prize is simply remaining standing.

No looking back.

“Of Couture and Supers” has fashionably returned with new chapters and plenty of drama! You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!

“Of Couture and Supers” Full-Length Chapter Preview”

Ellen Montclaire’s office had never looked more like a war room disguised as a sanctuary. The Spartan lines of her desk, the aviator frames catching the late-afternoon light, the faint scent of tuberose and something sharper-gun oil, perhaps, or the particular perfume of people who had already decided who would live. Jim Nelson stood at her left, GQ’s editor-in-chief in charcoal Tom Ford that made him look like a very expensive executioner. I had barely closed the door when Mike and Ian arrived with River between them, two plainclothes officers peeling off at the threshold like shadows that knew their place.

River looked intact. That was the first mercy. His jaw was tight, his eyes already scanning the room the way a House mother scans a ballroom for shade and safety. He crossed to me without speaking and took my hand under the desk, a private gesture that would have been unthinkable six weeks ago.

Ellen did not waste time on greetings. “The text,” she said. “Read it again, Alcide. Out loud. I want everyone in this room to hear the exact temperature of the threat.”

I did. The rhyme sat in the air like cheap cologne.

River exhaled through his nose. “Of course she got out. Of course she found the one man in Texas who still thinks my dead name is a prayer. Mother never needed a lawyer so much as she needed an audience. Jarrett Morgan is her new front row.”

Jim’s voice was dry as good gin. “Forrester’s counsel is the sort who bills in blood types. She walked because the Reagans’ deaths were ruled justifiable by the agents on that rooftop. The insurance policies, however, remain. Two million each. That kind of money does not forgive. It only waits.”

“They’ll try to paint us as unstable,” River said. “Unstable, ungrateful, un-American. They’ll leak something during Paris-photos, a planted story, a ‘concerned source’ who swears we were seen with the wrong people at the wrong hour. Mother always preferred character assassination before the actual kind.”

Ellen’s gaze could have cut Givenchy silk. “The fashion houses, the magazines, the designers who matter-they already know who you are. They know the Lancaster-Monroe line. They know River Forrester is not a scandal; he is a fact. Anyone who attempts to discredit either of you will find their invitations revoked before the first look walks. That is not sentiment. That is policy.”

I kept my voice even. “What do we actually do? Besides look expensive and refuse to die.”

Jim answered. “FBI and CIA have already coordinated with Interpol. The French, Italian, and British details have your files. Several of our people-heroes who do not clock out when the lights go down-will travel with the official parties. You will not be alone in a corridor, a fitting room, or a hotel elevator. You will also not be reckless. Recklessness is a luxury for people whose grandparents did not leave a ledger.”

River’s thumb brushed my knuckles. “We already made that promise on a rooftop, Jim. We keep it.”

Ellen stood. The movement was small and final, the way Miranda Priestly used to stand when a collection had been approved or a career ended. “Tomorrow morning you meet Ra’Keem, Ja’Nisha, and Snow. Wardrobe upgrade. Style seminar. Paris is not New York with better bread. Paris is a stage that remembers every misstep for a decade. You will walk it as Guardians-in-training and as the last two interns who refused to fold. You will look as if you were born to it because, in the only way that matters, you were.”

Emilia entered without knocking, tablet in hand, the itinerary already glowing. She set it between us like a treaty.

“Monday: arrival, fittings at the Ritz, dinner with the Mughelli and Watanabe representatives. Tuesday: Dior, then the liaison briefing with the French detail. Wednesday: Givenchy and the first September-issue roundtable. Thursday: Valentino, followed by the private salon for the Asian houses. Friday: Chanel and the night the villains usually try something theatrical. You will also continue every ordinary duty-coffee, proofs, dry cleaning, holding a lens when Marcel needs a second pair of hands that do not shake. The celebrities will still test you. The politicians will still want to be seen with you. You will still be the ones who remember the oat-milk shot and the exact temperature of a smoothie.”

I almost smiled. Almost.

Ellen’s voice dropped into the register that used to make entire floors go silent. “Paris Fashion Week is the beginning of the public proof. You do not merely attend. You represent the bridge your grandparents built and your parents burned. You will show the world that chosen family, hard work, and the refusal to become furniture are not weaknesses. They are the only currency that still holds.”

River looked at me then, really looked, the way he had in my apartment the night we stopped pretending we were only allies. “We said it before they took me. We watch each other’s backs. We finish the summer. We show them who we are when the cameras are on and when they are not. This time we do it knowing the knives are already drawn.”

I squeezed his hand once, hard enough to mean it. “Say less.”

Ellen’s mouth did the smallest thing that might have been approval. “Good. Now get out of my office. Both of you have a city to survive and a wardrobe that is currently insufficient for what is coming. Tomorrow you will look like you belong in every room that ever tried to keep you out. That is not optional.”

We stood. Mike and Ian fell in behind us without being asked. The officers at the door nodded once, the way men nod when they have already decided they will take a bullet if the arithmetic requires it.

In the elevator River leaned his forehead against the cool metal for three seconds. “She’s going to try to make us look like the problem,” he said quietly. “Like we brought the violence with us.”

“Then we will be so precisely ourselves that the lie won’t have anywhere to sit,” I answered.

The doors opened onto the sixth floor that no longer felt like an intern’s floor. My new office waited. The passport would arrive tomorrow. The clothes would be chosen tomorrow. The threat had already arrived.

We walked toward the next hour the way people walk toward a ballroom when they already know the judges are watching and the prize is simply remaining standing.

No looking back.

“Of Couture and Supers” has fashionably returned with new chapters and plenty of drama! You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!

“Of Couture and Supers” Full-Length Chapter Preview”

Ellen Montclaire’s office had never looked more like a war room disguised as a sanctuary. The Spartan lines of her desk, the aviator frames catching the late-afternoon light, the faint scent of tuberose and something sharper-gun oil, perhaps, or the particular perfume of people who had already decided who would live. Jim Nelson stood at her left, GQ’s editor-in-chief in charcoal Tom Ford that made him look like a very expensive executioner. I had barely closed the door when Mike and Ian arrived with River between them, two plainclothes officers peeling off at the threshold like shadows that knew their place.

River looked intact. That was the first mercy. His jaw was tight, his eyes already scanning the room the way a House mother scans a ballroom for shade and safety. He crossed to me without speaking and took my hand under the desk, a private gesture that would have been unthinkable six weeks ago.

Ellen did not waste time on greetings. “The text,” she said. “Read it again, Alcide. Out loud. I want everyone in this room to hear the exact temperature of the threat.”

I did. The rhyme sat in the air like cheap cologne.

River exhaled through his nose. “Of course she got out. Of course she found the one man in Texas who still thinks my dead name is a prayer. Mother never needed a lawyer so much as she needed an audience. Jarrett Morgan is her new front row.”

Jim’s voice was dry as good gin. “Forrester’s counsel is the sort who bills in blood types. She walked because the Reagans’ deaths were ruled justifiable by the agents on that rooftop. The insurance policies, however, remain. Two million each. That kind of money does not forgive. It only waits.”

“They’ll try to paint us as unstable,” River said. “Unstable, ungrateful, un-American. They’ll leak something during Paris-photos, a planted story, a ‘concerned source’ who swears we were seen with the wrong people at the wrong hour. Mother always preferred character assassination before the actual kind.”

Ellen’s gaze could have cut Givenchy silk. “The fashion houses, the magazines, the designers who matter-they already know who you are. They know the Lancaster-Monroe line. They know River Forrester is not a scandal; he is a fact. Anyone who attempts to discredit either of you will find their invitations revoked before the first look walks. That is not sentiment. That is policy.”

I kept my voice even. “What do we actually do? Besides look expensive and refuse to die.”

Jim answered. “FBI and CIA have already coordinated with Interpol. The French, Italian, and British details have your files. Several of our people-heroes who do not clock out when the lights go down-will travel with the official parties. You will not be alone in a corridor, a fitting room, or a hotel elevator. You will also not be reckless. Recklessness is a luxury for people whose grandparents did not leave a ledger.”

River’s thumb brushed my knuckles. “We already made that promise on a rooftop, Jim. We keep it.”

Ellen stood. The movement was small and final, the way Miranda Priestly used to stand when a collection had been approved or a career ended. “Tomorrow morning you meet Ra’Keem, Ja’Nisha, and Snow. Wardrobe upgrade. Style seminar. Paris is not New York with better bread. Paris is a stage that remembers every misstep for a decade. You will walk it as Guardians-in-training and as the last two interns who refused to fold. You will look as if you were born to it because, in the only way that matters, you were.”

Emilia entered without knocking, tablet in hand, the itinerary already glowing. She set it between us like a treaty.

“Monday: arrival, fittings at the Ritz, dinner with the Mughelli and Watanabe representatives. Tuesday: Dior, then the liaison briefing with the French detail. Wednesday: Givenchy and the first September-issue roundtable. Thursday: Valentino, followed by the private salon for the Asian houses. Friday: Chanel and the night the villains usually try something theatrical. You will also continue every ordinary duty-coffee, proofs, dry cleaning, holding a lens when Marcel needs a second pair of hands that do not shake. The celebrities will still test you. The politicians will still want to be seen with you. You will still be the ones who remember the oat-milk shot and the exact temperature of a smoothie.”

I almost smiled. Almost.

Ellen’s voice dropped into the register that used to make entire floors go silent. “Paris Fashion Week is the beginning of the public proof. You do not merely attend. You represent the bridge your grandparents built and your parents burned. You will show the world that chosen family, hard work, and the refusal to become furniture are not weaknesses. They are the only currency that still holds.”

River looked at me then, really looked, the way he had in my apartment the night we stopped pretending we were only allies. “We said it before they took me. We watch each other’s backs. We finish the summer. We show them who we are when the cameras are on and when they are not. This time we do it knowing the knives are already drawn.”

I squeezed his hand once, hard enough to mean it. “Say less.”

Ellen’s mouth did the smallest thing that might have been approval. “Good. Now get out of my office. Both of you have a city to survive and a wardrobe that is currently insufficient for what is coming. Tomorrow you will look like you belong in every room that ever tried to keep you out. That is not optional.”

We stood. Mike and Ian fell in behind us without being asked. The officers at the door nodded once, the way men nod when they have already decided they will take a bullet if the arithmetic requires it.

In the elevator River leaned his forehead against the cool metal for three seconds. “She’s going to try to make us look like the problem,” he said quietly. “Like we brought the violence with us.”

“Then we will be so precisely ourselves that the lie won’t have anywhere to sit,” I answered.

The doors opened onto the sixth floor that no longer felt like an intern’s floor. My new office waited. The passport would arrive tomorrow. The clothes would be chosen tomorrow. The threat had already arrived.

We walked toward the next hour the way people walk toward a ballroom when they already know the judges are watching and the prize is simply remaining standing.

No looking back.

“Of Couture and Supers” has fashionably returned with new chapters and plenty of drama! You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!

“Of Couture and Supers” Full-Length Chapter Preview”

Ellen Montclaire’s office had never looked more like a war room disguised as a sanctuary. The Spartan lines of her desk, the aviator frames catching the late-afternoon light, the faint scent of tuberose and something sharper-gun oil, perhaps, or the particular perfume of people who had already decided who would live. Jim Nelson stood at her left, GQ’s editor-in-chief in charcoal Tom Ford that made him look like a very expensive executioner. I had barely closed the door when Mike and Ian arrived with River between them, two plainclothes officers peeling off at the threshold like shadows that knew their place.

River looked intact. That was the first mercy. His jaw was tight, his eyes already scanning the room the way a House mother scans a ballroom for shade and safety. He crossed to me without speaking and took my hand under the desk, a private gesture that would have been unthinkable six weeks ago.

Ellen did not waste time on greetings. “The text,” she said. “Read it again, Alcide. Out loud. I want everyone in this room to hear the exact temperature of the threat.”

I did. The rhyme sat in the air like cheap cologne.

River exhaled through his nose. “Of course she got out. Of course she found the one man in Texas who still thinks my dead name is a prayer. Mother never needed a lawyer so much as she needed an audience. Jarrett Morgan is her new front row.”

Jim’s voice was dry as good gin. “Forrester’s counsel is the sort who bills in blood types. She walked because the Reagans’ deaths were ruled justifiable by the agents on that rooftop. The insurance policies, however, remain. Two million each. That kind of money does not forgive. It only waits.”

“They’ll try to paint us as unstable,” River said. “Unstable, ungrateful, un-American. They’ll leak something during Paris-photos, a planted story, a ‘concerned source’ who swears we were seen with the wrong people at the wrong hour. Mother always preferred character assassination before the actual kind.”

Ellen’s gaze could have cut Givenchy silk. “The fashion houses, the magazines, the designers who matter-they already know who you are. They know the Lancaster-Monroe line. They know River Forrester is not a scandal; he is a fact. Anyone who attempts to discredit either of you will find their invitations revoked before the first look walks. That is not sentiment. That is policy.”

I kept my voice even. “What do we actually do? Besides look expensive and refuse to die.”

Jim answered. “FBI and CIA have already coordinated with Interpol. The French, Italian, and British details have your files. Several of our people-heroes who do not clock out when the lights go down-will travel with the official parties. You will not be alone in a corridor, a fitting room, or a hotel elevator. You will also not be reckless. Recklessness is a luxury for people whose grandparents did not leave a ledger.”

River’s thumb brushed my knuckles. “We already made that promise on a rooftop, Jim. We keep it.”

Ellen stood. The movement was small and final, the way Miranda Priestly used to stand when a collection had been approved or a career ended. “Tomorrow morning you meet Ra’Keem, Ja’Nisha, and Snow. Wardrobe upgrade. Style seminar. Paris is not New York with better bread. Paris is a stage that remembers every misstep for a decade. You will walk it as Guardians-in-training and as the last two interns who refused to fold. You will look as if you were born to it because, in the only way that matters, you were.”

Emilia entered without knocking, tablet in hand, the itinerary already glowing. She set it between us like a treaty.

“Monday: arrival, fittings at the Ritz, dinner with the Mughelli and Watanabe representatives. Tuesday: Dior, then the liaison briefing with the French detail. Wednesday: Givenchy and the first September-issue roundtable. Thursday: Valentino, followed by the private salon for the Asian houses. Friday: Chanel and the night the villains usually try something theatrical. You will also continue every ordinary duty-coffee, proofs, dry cleaning, holding a lens when Marcel needs a second pair of hands that do not shake. The celebrities will still test you. The politicians will still want to be seen with you. You will still be the ones who remember the oat-milk shot and the exact temperature of a smoothie.”

I almost smiled. Almost.

Ellen’s voice dropped into the register that used to make entire floors go silent. “Paris Fashion Week is the beginning of the public proof. You do not merely attend. You represent the bridge your grandparents built and your parents burned. You will show the world that chosen family, hard work, and the refusal to become furniture are not weaknesses. They are the only currency that still holds.”

River looked at me then, really looked, the way he had in my apartment the night we stopped pretending we were only allies. “We said it before they took me. We watch each other’s backs. We finish the summer. We show them who we are when the cameras are on and when they are not. This time we do it knowing the knives are already drawn.”

I squeezed his hand once, hard enough to mean it. “Say less.”

Ellen’s mouth did the smallest thing that might have been approval. “Good. Now get out of my office. Both of you have a city to survive and a wardrobe that is currently insufficient for what is coming. Tomorrow you will look like you belong in every room that ever tried to keep you out. That is not optional.”

We stood. Mike and Ian fell in behind us without being asked. The officers at the door nodded once, the way men nod when they have already decided they will take a bullet if the arithmetic requires it.

In the elevator River leaned his forehead against the cool metal for three seconds. “She’s going to try to make us look like the problem,” he said quietly. “Like we brought the violence with us.”

“Then we will be so precisely ourselves that the lie won’t have anywhere to sit,” I answered.

The doors opened onto the sixth floor that no longer felt like an intern’s floor. My new office waited. The passport would arrive tomorrow. The clothes would be chosen tomorrow. The threat had already arrived.

We walked toward the next hour the way people walk toward a ballroom when they already know the judges are watching and the prize is simply remaining standing.

No looking back.

“Of Couture and Supers” has fashionably returned with new chapters and plenty of drama! You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!

“Of Couture and Supers” Full-Length Chapter Preview”

Ellen Montclaire’s office had never looked more like a war room disguised as a sanctuary. The Spartan lines of her desk, the aviator frames catching the late-afternoon light, the faint scent of tuberose and something sharper-gun oil, perhaps, or the particular perfume of people who had already decided who would live. Jim Nelson stood at her left, GQ’s editor-in-chief in charcoal Tom Ford that made him look like a very expensive executioner. I had barely closed the door when Mike and Ian arrived with River between them, two plainclothes officers peeling off at the threshold like shadows that knew their place.

River looked intact. That was the first mercy. His jaw was tight, his eyes already scanning the room the way a House mother scans a ballroom for shade and safety. He crossed to me without speaking and took my hand under the desk, a private gesture that would have been unthinkable six weeks ago.

Ellen did not waste time on greetings. “The text,” she said. “Read it again, Alcide. Out loud. I want everyone in this room to hear the exact temperature of the threat.”

I did. The rhyme sat in the air like cheap cologne.

River exhaled through his nose. “Of course she got out. Of course she found the one man in Texas who still thinks my dead name is a prayer. Mother never needed a lawyer so much as she needed an audience. Jarrett Morgan is her new front row.”

Jim’s voice was dry as good gin. “Forrester’s counsel is the sort who bills in blood types. She walked because the Reagans’ deaths were ruled justifiable by the agents on that rooftop. The insurance policies, however, remain. Two million each. That kind of money does not forgive. It only waits.”

“They’ll try to paint us as unstable,” River said. “Unstable, ungrateful, un-American. They’ll leak something during Paris-photos, a planted story, a ‘concerned source’ who swears we were seen with the wrong people at the wrong hour. Mother always preferred character assassination before the actual kind.”

Ellen’s gaze could have cut Givenchy silk. “The fashion houses, the magazines, the designers who matter-they already know who you are. They know the Lancaster-Monroe line. They know River Forrester is not a scandal; he is a fact. Anyone who attempts to discredit either of you will find their invitations revoked before the first look walks. That is not sentiment. That is policy.”

I kept my voice even. “What do we actually do? Besides look expensive and refuse to die.”

Jim answered. “FBI and CIA have already coordinated with Interpol. The French, Italian, and British details have your files. Several of our people-heroes who do not clock out when the lights go down-will travel with the official parties. You will not be alone in a corridor, a fitting room, or a hotel elevator. You will also not be reckless. Recklessness is a luxury for people whose grandparents did not leave a ledger.”

River’s thumb brushed my knuckles. “We already made that promise on a rooftop, Jim. We keep it.”

Ellen stood. The movement was small and final, the way Miranda Priestly used to stand when a collection had been approved or a career ended. “Tomorrow morning you meet Ra’Keem, Ja’Nisha, and Snow. Wardrobe upgrade. Style seminar. Paris is not New York with better bread. Paris is a stage that remembers every misstep for a decade. You will walk it as Guardians-in-training and as the last two interns who refused to fold. You will look as if you were born to it because, in the only way that matters, you were.”

Emilia entered without knocking, tablet in hand, the itinerary already glowing. She set it between us like a treaty.

“Monday: arrival, fittings at the Ritz, dinner with the Mughelli and Watanabe representatives. Tuesday: Dior, then the liaison briefing with the French detail. Wednesday: Givenchy and the first September-issue roundtable. Thursday: Valentino, followed by the private salon for the Asian houses. Friday: Chanel and the night the villains usually try something theatrical. You will also continue every ordinary duty-coffee, proofs, dry cleaning, holding a lens when Marcel needs a second pair of hands that do not shake. The celebrities will still test you. The politicians will still want to be seen with you. You will still be the ones who remember the oat-milk shot and the exact temperature of a smoothie.”

I almost smiled. Almost.

Ellen’s voice dropped into the register that used to make entire floors go silent. “Paris Fashion Week is the beginning of the public proof. You do not merely attend. You represent the bridge your grandparents built and your parents burned. You will show the world that chosen family, hard work, and the refusal to become furniture are not weaknesses. They are the only currency that still holds.”

River looked at me then, really looked, the way he had in my apartment the night we stopped pretending we were only allies. “We said it before they took me. We watch each other’s backs. We finish the summer. We show them who we are when the cameras are on and when they are not. This time we do it knowing the knives are already drawn.”

I squeezed his hand once, hard enough to mean it. “Say less.”

Ellen’s mouth did the smallest thing that might have been approval. “Good. Now get out of my office. Both of you have a city to survive and a wardrobe that is currently insufficient for what is coming. Tomorrow you will look like you belong in every room that ever tried to keep you out. That is not optional.”

We stood. Mike and Ian fell in behind us without being asked. The officers at the door nodded once, the way men nod when they have already decided they will take a bullet if the arithmetic requires it.

In the elevator River leaned his forehead against the cool metal for three seconds. “She’s going to try to make us look like the problem,” he said quietly. “Like we brought the violence with us.”

“Then we will be so precisely ourselves that the lie won’t have anywhere to sit,” I answered.

The doors opened onto the sixth floor that no longer felt like an intern’s floor. My new office waited. The passport would arrive tomorrow. The clothes would be chosen tomorrow. The threat had already arrived.

We walked toward the next hour the way people walk toward a ballroom when they already know the judges are watching and the prize is simply remaining standing.

No looking back.

“Of Couture and Supers” has fashionably returned with new chapters and plenty of drama! You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!

“Being Arian Halliday” Sneak Preview

Arian’s POV


The following day arrived as I was soon facing the first day of school.


But this was no typical first day of school, folks. It was my and Catriona’s grand debut as the new kids attending St. Ignatius Academy. With full capital letters.


Needless to say, I was both excited and terrified all at once even as I was joined by my brothers Reagan and Ryan as well as my cousins with them making sure my uniform wasa up to par.


“Never you mind your fears, Arian,” Kyren said as he handed me my pair of black oxford shoes that were equipped with gel insoles for comfort. “You will do fantastic.”


“And when word gets around of you being the long-lost Halliday heir, people will draw to you like moths to a flame,” Tyler commented as his twin brother fixed my tie. “Not only that, you’re going to be part of the Masquerade Games with us. This is basically a year-round coming-out party for you that’s long overdue.”


I nodded as I was handed a cup of tea from Reagan. “I’m just worried that I might make a wrong impression by saying or doing something stupid,” I admitted. “That, and I did run into Derrick Giddens yesterday during the tour.”


The air turned chilly after that statement. “Derrick Giddens and his friends are known as the self-entitled assholes known to all,” Kendrick stated stiffly, eyes narrowed in silts. “To know him and his girlfriend Giada as well as their friends is to hate them with a passion. Little wonder why they’re never qualified to be part of the games no matter how much their parents throw money or curry favor with our dads and granddads. If you can help it, try not to start any drama and stay away from them at all costs. But if it can’t be helped, try to at least bite your tongue and appease them as much as possible.”


“Other than that, Arie, most of the students and teachers are pretty cool to know,” Terrance added as he handed me my uniform jacket. “And it’s mandatory to try and earn as much favor from them as possible. We’ll make sure which ones to bond more and which ones to be cordial but keep your distance from. And I know that Ra’Von and his fellow journalism friends will do the same.”


There was a knock at the door. “Gentlemen, your fathers are waiting for you all down at the lobby,” came the voice of Annette as the maid in question as well as another butler (a dark-skinned older man) came inside my bedroom. “And Master Arian? I believe that this is going to be the senior year of a lifetime for you. Just stick with your brothers and cousins as well as your friend Catriona, and you can’t go wrong. Trust in everyone who believes in you. Trust yourself.”


No better words were said as we grabbed our backpacks and laptop bags before heading out to meet our fathers who were chatting animatedly with Catriona, my best friend looking as if she was born for the hallways at any school. “Damn, Arie,” she trilled. “You look like you definitely belong with your family. St. Ignatius Academy won’t know what hit them when they see you.”


“I’ll bet,” I remarked, giving her a gamely smile. To my dad Jason, “Shall we go?”


“We shall, Arian. Your debut awaits,” my father said.


With that, we all trooped into the black limousine which was waiting for us outside. Let the day begin, I thought as I was greeted by the sounds of Manhattan beginning its usual day of morning chaos.

“Being Arian Halliday” is back with new chapters!” You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!

“Being Arian Halliday” Sneak Preview

Arian’s POV


The following day arrived as I was soon facing the first day of school.


But this was no typical first day of school, folks. It was my and Catriona’s grand debut as the new kids attending St. Ignatius Academy. With full capital letters.


Needless to say, I was both excited and terrified all at once even as I was joined by my brothers Reagan and Ryan as well as my cousins with them making sure my uniform wasa up to par.


“Never you mind your fears, Arian,” Kyren said as he handed me my pair of black oxford shoes that were equipped with gel insoles for comfort. “You will do fantastic.”


“And when word gets around of you being the long-lost Halliday heir, people will draw to you like moths to a flame,” Tyler commented as his twin brother fixed my tie. “Not only that, you’re going to be part of the Masquerade Games with us. This is basically a year-round coming-out party for you that’s long overdue.”


I nodded as I was handed a cup of tea from Reagan. “I’m just worried that I might make a wrong impression by saying or doing something stupid,” I admitted. “That, and I did run into Derrick Giddens yesterday during the tour.”


The air turned chilly after that statement. “Derrick Giddens and his friends are known as the self-entitled assholes known to all,” Kendrick stated stiffly, eyes narrowed in silts. “To know him and his girlfriend Giada as well as their friends is to hate them with a passion. Little wonder why they’re never qualified to be part of the games no matter how much their parents throw money or curry favor with our dads and granddads. If you can help it, try not to start any drama and stay away from them at all costs. But if it can’t be helped, try to at least bite your tongue and appease them as much as possible.”


“Other than that, Arie, most of the students and teachers are pretty cool to know,” Terrance added as he handed me my uniform jacket. “And it’s mandatory to try and earn as much favor from them as possible. We’ll make sure which ones to bond more and which ones to be cordial but keep your distance from. And I know that Ra’Von and his fellow journalism friends will do the same.”


There was a knock at the door. “Gentlemen, your fathers are waiting for you all down at the lobby,” came the voice of Annette as the maid in question as well as another butler (a dark-skinned older man) came inside my bedroom. “And Master Arian? I believe that this is going to be the senior year of a lifetime for you. Just stick with your brothers and cousins as well as your friend Catriona, and you can’t go wrong. Trust in everyone who believes in you. Trust yourself.”


No better words were said as we grabbed our backpacks and laptop bags before heading out to meet our fathers who were chatting animatedly with Catriona, my best friend looking as if she was born for the hallways at any school. “Damn, Arie,” she trilled. “You look like you definitely belong with your family. St. Ignatius Academy won’t know what hit them when they see you.”


“I’ll bet,” I remarked, giving her a gamely smile. To my dad Jason, “Shall we go?”


“We shall, Arian. Your debut awaits,” my father said.


With that, we all trooped into the black limousine which was waiting for us outside. Let the day begin, I thought as I was greeted by the sounds of Manhattan beginning its usual day of morning chaos.

“Being Arian Halliday” is back with new chapters!” You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!

“Being Arian Halliday” Sneak Preview

Arian’s POV


The following day arrived as I was soon facing the first day of school.


But this was no typical first day of school, folks. It was my and Catriona’s grand debut as the new kids attending St. Ignatius Academy. With full capital letters.


Needless to say, I was both excited and terrified all at once even as I was joined by my brothers Reagan and Ryan as well as my cousins with them making sure my uniform wasa up to par.


“Never you mind your fears, Arian,” Kyren said as he handed me my pair of black oxford shoes that were equipped with gel insoles for comfort. “You will do fantastic.”


“And when word gets around of you being the long-lost Halliday heir, people will draw to you like moths to a flame,” Tyler commented as his twin brother fixed my tie. “Not only that, you’re going to be part of the Masquerade Games with us. This is basically a year-round coming-out party for you that’s long overdue.”


I nodded as I was handed a cup of tea from Reagan. “I’m just worried that I might make a wrong impression by saying or doing something stupid,” I admitted. “That, and I did run into Derrick Giddens yesterday during the tour.”


The air turned chilly after that statement. “Derrick Giddens and his friends are known as the self-entitled assholes known to all,” Kendrick stated stiffly, eyes narrowed in silts. “To know him and his girlfriend Giada as well as their friends is to hate them with a passion. Little wonder why they’re never qualified to be part of the games no matter how much their parents throw money or curry favor with our dads and granddads. If you can help it, try not to start any drama and stay away from them at all costs. But if it can’t be helped, try to at least bite your tongue and appease them as much as possible.”


“Other than that, Arie, most of the students and teachers are pretty cool to know,” Terrance added as he handed me my uniform jacket. “And it’s mandatory to try and earn as much favor from them as possible. We’ll make sure which ones to bond more and which ones to be cordial but keep your distance from. And I know that Ra’Von and his fellow journalism friends will do the same.”


There was a knock at the door. “Gentlemen, your fathers are waiting for you all down at the lobby,” came the voice of Annette as the maid in question as well as another butler (a dark-skinned older man) came inside my bedroom. “And Master Arian? I believe that this is going to be the senior year of a lifetime for you. Just stick with your brothers and cousins as well as your friend Catriona, and you can’t go wrong. Trust in everyone who believes in you. Trust yourself.”


No better words were said as we grabbed our backpacks and laptop bags before heading out to meet our fathers who were chatting animatedly with Catriona, my best friend looking as if she was born for the hallways at any school. “Damn, Arie,” she trilled. “You look like you definitely belong with your family. St. Ignatius Academy won’t know what hit them when they see you.”


“I’ll bet,” I remarked, giving her a gamely smile. To my dad Jason, “Shall we go?”


“We shall, Arian. Your debut awaits,” my father said.


With that, we all trooped into the black limousine which was waiting for us outside. Let the day begin, I thought as I was greeted by the sounds of Manhattan beginning its usual day of morning chaos.

“Being Arian Halliday” is back with new chapters!” You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!

“Being Arian Halliday” Sneak Preview

Arian’s POV


The following day arrived as I was soon facing the first day of school.


But this was no typical first day of school, folks. It was my and Catriona’s grand debut as the new kids attending St. Ignatius Academy. With full capital letters.


Needless to say, I was both excited and terrified all at once even as I was joined by my brothers Reagan and Ryan as well as my cousins with them making sure my uniform wasa up to par.


“Never you mind your fears, Arian,” Kyren said as he handed me my pair of black oxford shoes that were equipped with gel insoles for comfort. “You will do fantastic.”


“And when word gets around of you being the long-lost Halliday heir, people will draw to you like moths to a flame,” Tyler commented as his twin brother fixed my tie. “Not only that, you’re going to be part of the Masquerade Games with us. This is basically a year-round coming-out party for you that’s long overdue.”


I nodded as I was handed a cup of tea from Reagan. “I’m just worried that I might make a wrong impression by saying or doing something stupid,” I admitted. “That, and I did run into Derrick Giddens yesterday during the tour.”


The air turned chilly after that statement. “Derrick Giddens and his friends are known as the self-entitled assholes known to all,” Kendrick stated stiffly, eyes narrowed in silts. “To know him and his girlfriend Giada as well as their friends is to hate them with a passion. Little wonder why they’re never qualified to be part of the games no matter how much their parents throw money or curry favor with our dads and granddads. If you can help it, try not to start any drama and stay away from them at all costs. But if it can’t be helped, try to at least bite your tongue and appease them as much as possible.”


“Other than that, Arie, most of the students and teachers are pretty cool to know,” Terrance added as he handed me my uniform jacket. “And it’s mandatory to try and earn as much favor from them as possible. We’ll make sure which ones to bond more and which ones to be cordial but keep your distance from. And I know that Ra’Von and his fellow journalism friends will do the same.”


There was a knock at the door. “Gentlemen, your fathers are waiting for you all down at the lobby,” came the voice of Annette as the maid in question as well as another butler (a dark-skinned older man) came inside my bedroom. “And Master Arian? I believe that this is going to be the senior year of a lifetime for you. Just stick with your brothers and cousins as well as your friend Catriona, and you can’t go wrong. Trust in everyone who believes in you. Trust yourself.”


No better words were said as we grabbed our backpacks and laptop bags before heading out to meet our fathers who were chatting animatedly with Catriona, my best friend looking as if she was born for the hallways at any school. “Damn, Arie,” she trilled. “You look like you definitely belong with your family. St. Ignatius Academy won’t know what hit them when they see you.”


“I’ll bet,” I remarked, giving her a gamely smile. To my dad Jason, “Shall we go?”


“We shall, Arian. Your debut awaits,” my father said.


With that, we all trooped into the black limousine which was waiting for us outside. Let the day begin, I thought as I was greeted by the sounds of Manhattan beginning its usual day of morning chaos.

“Being Arian Halliday” is back with new chapters!” You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!

“Being Arian Halliday” Sneak Preview

Arian’s POV


The following day arrived as I was soon facing the first day of school.


But this was no typical first day of school, folks. It was my and Catriona’s grand debut as the new kids attending St. Ignatius Academy. With full capital letters.


Needless to say, I was both excited and terrified all at once even as I was joined by my brothers Reagan and Ryan as well as my cousins with them making sure my uniform wasa up to par.


“Never you mind your fears, Arian,” Kyren said as he handed me my pair of black oxford shoes that were equipped with gel insoles for comfort. “You will do fantastic.”


“And when word gets around of you being the long-lost Halliday heir, people will draw to you like moths to a flame,” Tyler commented as his twin brother fixed my tie. “Not only that, you’re going to be part of the Masquerade Games with us. This is basically a year-round coming-out party for you that’s long overdue.”


I nodded as I was handed a cup of tea from Reagan. “I’m just worried that I might make a wrong impression by saying or doing something stupid,” I admitted. “That, and I did run into Derrick Giddens yesterday during the tour.”


The air turned chilly after that statement. “Derrick Giddens and his friends are known as the self-entitled assholes known to all,” Kendrick stated stiffly, eyes narrowed in silts. “To know him and his girlfriend Giada as well as their friends is to hate them with a passion. Little wonder why they’re never qualified to be part of the games no matter how much their parents throw money or curry favor with our dads and granddads. If you can help it, try not to start any drama and stay away from them at all costs. But if it can’t be helped, try to at least bite your tongue and appease them as much as possible.”


“Other than that, Arie, most of the students and teachers are pretty cool to know,” Terrance added as he handed me my uniform jacket. “And it’s mandatory to try and earn as much favor from them as possible. We’ll make sure which ones to bond more and which ones to be cordial but keep your distance from. And I know that Ra’Von and his fellow journalism friends will do the same.”


There was a knock at the door. “Gentlemen, your fathers are waiting for you all down at the lobby,” came the voice of Annette as the maid in question as well as another butler (a dark-skinned older man) came inside my bedroom. “And Master Arian? I believe that this is going to be the senior year of a lifetime for you. Just stick with your brothers and cousins as well as your friend Catriona, and you can’t go wrong. Trust in everyone who believes in you. Trust yourself.”


No better words were said as we grabbed our backpacks and laptop bags before heading out to meet our fathers who were chatting animatedly with Catriona, my best friend looking as if she was born for the hallways at any school. “Damn, Arie,” she trilled. “You look like you definitely belong with your family. St. Ignatius Academy won’t know what hit them when they see you.”


“I’ll bet,” I remarked, giving her a gamely smile. To my dad Jason, “Shall we go?”


“We shall, Arian. Your debut awaits,” my father said.


With that, we all trooped into the black limousine which was waiting for us outside. Let the day begin, I thought as I was greeted by the sounds of Manhattan beginning its usual day of morning chaos.

“Being Arian Halliday” is back with new chapters!” You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!

blue ground mist, sunrise
at your seven. quarter to,
six hours to go

#haiku #BlackFedi #blackwriters #writingcommunity #RoadtripRambles

blue ground mist, sunrise
at your seven. quarter to,
six hours to go

#haiku #BlackFedi #blackwriters #writingcommunity #RoadtripRambles

blue ground mist, sunrise
at your seven. quarter to,
six hours to go

#haiku #BlackFedi #blackwriters #writingcommunity #RoadtripRambles

“Nacirema Requiem” Sneak Preview

“Armando?”

Said young man snapped out of his reverie (or rather, his umpteenth argument with Amanda, the young woman he shared his body with) and stared into the concerned eyes of Melina. “Sorry, lost in thought after last night,” he said apologetically.

“Are you okay? You look a bit out of it. Come to think of it, you look like you’ve been at odds with yourself lately,” Melina replied.

That’s because I AM at odds, but with a hardy and extremist-minded young woman from another version of Earth, Armando thought inwardly.

“I’m still here, you know that?” Amanda’s voice shot back before the Hispanic young man shoved her back.

Armando inhaled sharply. “It’s the planning of everything and all,” he said to Melina. “That, and with this being our senior year…it feels like every day is like we’re facing a lot of pressure.”

“Has Corwyn been haunting your dreams again?”

That statement gave Armando pause while Amanda took a great deal of interest. “Okay, this Corwyn girl is DEFINITELY like me, but what did she did to you?”

Armando shook his head, pushing Amanda to the back once again. “Not lately, but who knows what she’s planning? It’s getting a bit too quiet, and it means that she’ll be ready to strike once again.”

Melina nodded, reaching towards him and patting his back twice as they exited her car. “If you wanna talk more about her or get something off your chest, I’m here for you…and Tybee,” she replied, a bit of Salgiel slipping in her voice.

Sure enough, the first night of the mandatory breeding period had come and gone. Most of the students were hanging out with either their friends, their opposite-sex pairs, or a bit of both. Others were milling around the parking lot and shooting the breeze. For Armando, however, his mind was not only filled with Amanda’s presence but also of his concern that he wasn’t going to last long with the deceased young woman still acting passively defiant about the new world she was to endure for the thirty-day trial period.

Armando knew that Amanda felt grossed out from last night, but he was loyal to the cause as a Nacireman citizen. And gentle reader, he knew that Amanda didn’t have enough time on her hands. The more she wanted to defy the odds, the more at risk she was for hell. And he wasn’t going to let her or Corwyn get the best of him.

“I wonder where Ryan and Ariah could be?” Melina asked as she looked around. “I know that the bus that you two would take hadn’t arrived yet.”

That’s what I’d like to know myself, Amanda responded snidely.

“I’m sure that Ryan’s dads want them to have a big breakfast together,” he answered.

The two didn’t have to wait longer for the two teens to arrive, Armando’s eyes going wide with amazement as he took in Ryan being dressed in a form fitting bright-blue shirt with a V-neck collar and beige jeans that highlighted the diver’s legs perfectly. A pair of blue-and-white Converse sneakers and leaf-shaped pendant necklace completed the look. But what caught Armando off-guard was how Ryan felt more and more relaxed and at ease with himself, Ariah (dressed in a simple pink sundress with white tennis shoes) walking with him hand-in-hand as if they were crowned royalty.

Most of the students and teachers thought that the two friends were glowing after last night’s sexual escapade.

Armando, however, knew the truth. And so did a now-livid Amanda who was ready to show herself through her male counterpart. “What is this?!”

“That, Amanda, is your Ryan and my Ryan now fused as one,” Armando said inwardly before pushing her to the background and approaching his godbrother. “Bro, I know that you’re not turning straight on me, right?”

Ryan smirked. “And forget about our times together, even when we’re supposed to be studying? Not on your life,” he said. “You know the motto, bro. Equality and tradition.”

“Until the day we die,” Ariah and Melina finished in unison.

“Come on, you guys,” Armando stated good-naturedly. “We don’t wanna be late for homeroom. Let’s go to class.”

Amanda, on the other hand, was itching to break free and read the now-consolidated Ryan for filth. That bastard owes me some answers, she said as she let her male counterpart take over the wheel. Who does he think he is? He can’t be going through with this, right? Right? 

You’ll never forget the first time! “Nacirema Requiem” is back with new updates, available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Nacirema Requiem” Sneak Preview

“Armando?”

Said young man snapped out of his reverie (or rather, his umpteenth argument with Amanda, the young woman he shared his body with) and stared into the concerned eyes of Melina. “Sorry, lost in thought after last night,” he said apologetically.

“Are you okay? You look a bit out of it. Come to think of it, you look like you’ve been at odds with yourself lately,” Melina replied.

That’s because I AM at odds, but with a hardy and extremist-minded young woman from another version of Earth, Armando thought inwardly.

“I’m still here, you know that?” Amanda’s voice shot back before the Hispanic young man shoved her back.

Armando inhaled sharply. “It’s the planning of everything and all,” he said to Melina. “That, and with this being our senior year…it feels like every day is like we’re facing a lot of pressure.”

“Has Corwyn been haunting your dreams again?”

That statement gave Armando pause while Amanda took a great deal of interest. “Okay, this Corwyn girl is DEFINITELY like me, but what did she did to you?”

Armando shook his head, pushing Amanda to the back once again. “Not lately, but who knows what she’s planning? It’s getting a bit too quiet, and it means that she’ll be ready to strike once again.”

Melina nodded, reaching towards him and patting his back twice as they exited her car. “If you wanna talk more about her or get something off your chest, I’m here for you…and Tybee,” she replied, a bit of Salgiel slipping in her voice.

Sure enough, the first night of the mandatory breeding period had come and gone. Most of the students were hanging out with either their friends, their opposite-sex pairs, or a bit of both. Others were milling around the parking lot and shooting the breeze. For Armando, however, his mind was not only filled with Amanda’s presence but also of his concern that he wasn’t going to last long with the deceased young woman still acting passively defiant about the new world she was to endure for the thirty-day trial period.

Armando knew that Amanda felt grossed out from last night, but he was loyal to the cause as a Nacireman citizen. And gentle reader, he knew that Amanda didn’t have enough time on her hands. The more she wanted to defy the odds, the more at risk she was for hell. And he wasn’t going to let her or Corwyn get the best of him.

“I wonder where Ryan and Ariah could be?” Melina asked as she looked around. “I know that the bus that you two would take hadn’t arrived yet.”

That’s what I’d like to know myself, Amanda responded snidely.

“I’m sure that Ryan’s dads want them to have a big breakfast together,” he answered.

The two didn’t have to wait longer for the two teens to arrive, Armando’s eyes going wide with amazement as he took in Ryan being dressed in a form fitting bright-blue shirt with a V-neck collar and beige jeans that highlighted the diver’s legs perfectly. A pair of blue-and-white Converse sneakers and leaf-shaped pendant necklace completed the look. But what caught Armando off-guard was how Ryan felt more and more relaxed and at ease with himself, Ariah (dressed in a simple pink sundress with white tennis shoes) walking with him hand-in-hand as if they were crowned royalty.

Most of the students and teachers thought that the two friends were glowing after last night’s sexual escapade.

Armando, however, knew the truth. And so did a now-livid Amanda who was ready to show herself through her male counterpart. “What is this?!”

“That, Amanda, is your Ryan and my Ryan now fused as one,” Armando said inwardly before pushing her to the background and approaching his godbrother. “Bro, I know that you’re not turning straight on me, right?”

Ryan smirked. “And forget about our times together, even when we’re supposed to be studying? Not on your life,” he said. “You know the motto, bro. Equality and tradition.”

“Until the day we die,” Ariah and Melina finished in unison.

“Come on, you guys,” Armando stated good-naturedly. “We don’t wanna be late for homeroom. Let’s go to class.”

Amanda, on the other hand, was itching to break free and read the now-consolidated Ryan for filth. That bastard owes me some answers, she said as she let her male counterpart take over the wheel. Who does he think he is? He can’t be going through with this, right? Right? 

You’ll never forget the first time! “Nacirema Requiem” is back with new updates, available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Nacirema Requiem” Sneak Preview

“Armando?”

Said young man snapped out of his reverie (or rather, his umpteenth argument with Amanda, the young woman he shared his body with) and stared into the concerned eyes of Melina. “Sorry, lost in thought after last night,” he said apologetically.

“Are you okay? You look a bit out of it. Come to think of it, you look like you’ve been at odds with yourself lately,” Melina replied.

That’s because I AM at odds, but with a hardy and extremist-minded young woman from another version of Earth, Armando thought inwardly.

“I’m still here, you know that?” Amanda’s voice shot back before the Hispanic young man shoved her back.

Armando inhaled sharply. “It’s the planning of everything and all,” he said to Melina. “That, and with this being our senior year…it feels like every day is like we’re facing a lot of pressure.”

“Has Corwyn been haunting your dreams again?”

That statement gave Armando pause while Amanda took a great deal of interest. “Okay, this Corwyn girl is DEFINITELY like me, but what did she did to you?”

Armando shook his head, pushing Amanda to the back once again. “Not lately, but who knows what she’s planning? It’s getting a bit too quiet, and it means that she’ll be ready to strike once again.”

Melina nodded, reaching towards him and patting his back twice as they exited her car. “If you wanna talk more about her or get something off your chest, I’m here for you…and Tybee,” she replied, a bit of Salgiel slipping in her voice.

Sure enough, the first night of the mandatory breeding period had come and gone. Most of the students were hanging out with either their friends, their opposite-sex pairs, or a bit of both. Others were milling around the parking lot and shooting the breeze. For Armando, however, his mind was not only filled with Amanda’s presence but also of his concern that he wasn’t going to last long with the deceased young woman still acting passively defiant about the new world she was to endure for the thirty-day trial period.

Armando knew that Amanda felt grossed out from last night, but he was loyal to the cause as a Nacireman citizen. And gentle reader, he knew that Amanda didn’t have enough time on her hands. The more she wanted to defy the odds, the more at risk she was for hell. And he wasn’t going to let her or Corwyn get the best of him.

“I wonder where Ryan and Ariah could be?” Melina asked as she looked around. “I know that the bus that you two would take hadn’t arrived yet.”

That’s what I’d like to know myself, Amanda responded snidely.

“I’m sure that Ryan’s dads want them to have a big breakfast together,” he answered.

The two didn’t have to wait longer for the two teens to arrive, Armando’s eyes going wide with amazement as he took in Ryan being dressed in a form fitting bright-blue shirt with a V-neck collar and beige jeans that highlighted the diver’s legs perfectly. A pair of blue-and-white Converse sneakers and leaf-shaped pendant necklace completed the look. But what caught Armando off-guard was how Ryan felt more and more relaxed and at ease with himself, Ariah (dressed in a simple pink sundress with white tennis shoes) walking with him hand-in-hand as if they were crowned royalty.

Most of the students and teachers thought that the two friends were glowing after last night’s sexual escapade.

Armando, however, knew the truth. And so did a now-livid Amanda who was ready to show herself through her male counterpart. “What is this?!”

“That, Amanda, is your Ryan and my Ryan now fused as one,” Armando said inwardly before pushing her to the background and approaching his godbrother. “Bro, I know that you’re not turning straight on me, right?”

Ryan smirked. “And forget about our times together, even when we’re supposed to be studying? Not on your life,” he said. “You know the motto, bro. Equality and tradition.”

“Until the day we die,” Ariah and Melina finished in unison.

“Come on, you guys,” Armando stated good-naturedly. “We don’t wanna be late for homeroom. Let’s go to class.”

Amanda, on the other hand, was itching to break free and read the now-consolidated Ryan for filth. That bastard owes me some answers, she said as she let her male counterpart take over the wheel. Who does he think he is? He can’t be going through with this, right? Right? 

You’ll never forget the first time! “Nacirema Requiem” is back with new updates, available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Nacirema Requiem” Sneak Preview

“Armando?”

Said young man snapped out of his reverie (or rather, his umpteenth argument with Amanda, the young woman he shared his body with) and stared into the concerned eyes of Melina. “Sorry, lost in thought after last night,” he said apologetically.

“Are you okay? You look a bit out of it. Come to think of it, you look like you’ve been at odds with yourself lately,” Melina replied.

That’s because I AM at odds, but with a hardy and extremist-minded young woman from another version of Earth, Armando thought inwardly.

“I’m still here, you know that?” Amanda’s voice shot back before the Hispanic young man shoved her back.

Armando inhaled sharply. “It’s the planning of everything and all,” he said to Melina. “That, and with this being our senior year…it feels like every day is like we’re facing a lot of pressure.”

“Has Corwyn been haunting your dreams again?”

That statement gave Armando pause while Amanda took a great deal of interest. “Okay, this Corwyn girl is DEFINITELY like me, but what did she did to you?”

Armando shook his head, pushing Amanda to the back once again. “Not lately, but who knows what she’s planning? It’s getting a bit too quiet, and it means that she’ll be ready to strike once again.”

Melina nodded, reaching towards him and patting his back twice as they exited her car. “If you wanna talk more about her or get something off your chest, I’m here for you…and Tybee,” she replied, a bit of Salgiel slipping in her voice.

Sure enough, the first night of the mandatory breeding period had come and gone. Most of the students were hanging out with either their friends, their opposite-sex pairs, or a bit of both. Others were milling around the parking lot and shooting the breeze. For Armando, however, his mind was not only filled with Amanda’s presence but also of his concern that he wasn’t going to last long with the deceased young woman still acting passively defiant about the new world she was to endure for the thirty-day trial period.

Armando knew that Amanda felt grossed out from last night, but he was loyal to the cause as a Nacireman citizen. And gentle reader, he knew that Amanda didn’t have enough time on her hands. The more she wanted to defy the odds, the more at risk she was for hell. And he wasn’t going to let her or Corwyn get the best of him.

“I wonder where Ryan and Ariah could be?” Melina asked as she looked around. “I know that the bus that you two would take hadn’t arrived yet.”

That’s what I’d like to know myself, Amanda responded snidely.

“I’m sure that Ryan’s dads want them to have a big breakfast together,” he answered.

The two didn’t have to wait longer for the two teens to arrive, Armando’s eyes going wide with amazement as he took in Ryan being dressed in a form fitting bright-blue shirt with a V-neck collar and beige jeans that highlighted the diver’s legs perfectly. A pair of blue-and-white Converse sneakers and leaf-shaped pendant necklace completed the look. But what caught Armando off-guard was how Ryan felt more and more relaxed and at ease with himself, Ariah (dressed in a simple pink sundress with white tennis shoes) walking with him hand-in-hand as if they were crowned royalty.

Most of the students and teachers thought that the two friends were glowing after last night’s sexual escapade.

Armando, however, knew the truth. And so did a now-livid Amanda who was ready to show herself through her male counterpart. “What is this?!”

“That, Amanda, is your Ryan and my Ryan now fused as one,” Armando said inwardly before pushing her to the background and approaching his godbrother. “Bro, I know that you’re not turning straight on me, right?”

Ryan smirked. “And forget about our times together, even when we’re supposed to be studying? Not on your life,” he said. “You know the motto, bro. Equality and tradition.”

“Until the day we die,” Ariah and Melina finished in unison.

“Come on, you guys,” Armando stated good-naturedly. “We don’t wanna be late for homeroom. Let’s go to class.”

Amanda, on the other hand, was itching to break free and read the now-consolidated Ryan for filth. That bastard owes me some answers, she said as she let her male counterpart take over the wheel. Who does he think he is? He can’t be going through with this, right? Right? 

You’ll never forget the first time! “Nacirema Requiem” is back with new updates, available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Nacirema Requiem” Sneak Preview

“Armando?”

Said young man snapped out of his reverie (or rather, his umpteenth argument with Amanda, the young woman he shared his body with) and stared into the concerned eyes of Melina. “Sorry, lost in thought after last night,” he said apologetically.

“Are you okay? You look a bit out of it. Come to think of it, you look like you’ve been at odds with yourself lately,” Melina replied.

That’s because I AM at odds, but with a hardy and extremist-minded young woman from another version of Earth, Armando thought inwardly.

“I’m still here, you know that?” Amanda’s voice shot back before the Hispanic young man shoved her back.

Armando inhaled sharply. “It’s the planning of everything and all,” he said to Melina. “That, and with this being our senior year…it feels like every day is like we’re facing a lot of pressure.”

“Has Corwyn been haunting your dreams again?”

That statement gave Armando pause while Amanda took a great deal of interest. “Okay, this Corwyn girl is DEFINITELY like me, but what did she did to you?”

Armando shook his head, pushing Amanda to the back once again. “Not lately, but who knows what she’s planning? It’s getting a bit too quiet, and it means that she’ll be ready to strike once again.”

Melina nodded, reaching towards him and patting his back twice as they exited her car. “If you wanna talk more about her or get something off your chest, I’m here for you…and Tybee,” she replied, a bit of Salgiel slipping in her voice.

Sure enough, the first night of the mandatory breeding period had come and gone. Most of the students were hanging out with either their friends, their opposite-sex pairs, or a bit of both. Others were milling around the parking lot and shooting the breeze. For Armando, however, his mind was not only filled with Amanda’s presence but also of his concern that he wasn’t going to last long with the deceased young woman still acting passively defiant about the new world she was to endure for the thirty-day trial period.

Armando knew that Amanda felt grossed out from last night, but he was loyal to the cause as a Nacireman citizen. And gentle reader, he knew that Amanda didn’t have enough time on her hands. The more she wanted to defy the odds, the more at risk she was for hell. And he wasn’t going to let her or Corwyn get the best of him.

“I wonder where Ryan and Ariah could be?” Melina asked as she looked around. “I know that the bus that you two would take hadn’t arrived yet.”

That’s what I’d like to know myself, Amanda responded snidely.

“I’m sure that Ryan’s dads want them to have a big breakfast together,” he answered.

The two didn’t have to wait longer for the two teens to arrive, Armando’s eyes going wide with amazement as he took in Ryan being dressed in a form fitting bright-blue shirt with a V-neck collar and beige jeans that highlighted the diver’s legs perfectly. A pair of blue-and-white Converse sneakers and leaf-shaped pendant necklace completed the look. But what caught Armando off-guard was how Ryan felt more and more relaxed and at ease with himself, Ariah (dressed in a simple pink sundress with white tennis shoes) walking with him hand-in-hand as if they were crowned royalty.

Most of the students and teachers thought that the two friends were glowing after last night’s sexual escapade.

Armando, however, knew the truth. And so did a now-livid Amanda who was ready to show herself through her male counterpart. “What is this?!”

“That, Amanda, is your Ryan and my Ryan now fused as one,” Armando said inwardly before pushing her to the background and approaching his godbrother. “Bro, I know that you’re not turning straight on me, right?”

Ryan smirked. “And forget about our times together, even when we’re supposed to be studying? Not on your life,” he said. “You know the motto, bro. Equality and tradition.”

“Until the day we die,” Ariah and Melina finished in unison.

“Come on, you guys,” Armando stated good-naturedly. “We don’t wanna be late for homeroom. Let’s go to class.”

Amanda, on the other hand, was itching to break free and read the now-consolidated Ryan for filth. That bastard owes me some answers, she said as she let her male counterpart take over the wheel. Who does he think he is? He can’t be going through with this, right? Right? 

You’ll never forget the first time! “Nacirema Requiem” is back with new updates, available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

The Weight of Snow and Regret & Bo Hopkins’ Blues

My Review The Weight of Snow and Regret by Elizabeth Gauffreau is a beautifully-written story that throws light on an important and largely unmet societal problem. One that has eluded us forever: how to house the houseless, including families with no place they can afford to live, people with mental health issues unable to care […]

The Weight of Snow and Regret & Bo Hopkins’ Blues

The Weight of Snow and Regret & Bo Hopkins’ Blues

My Review The Weight of Snow and Regret by Elizabeth Gauffreau is a beautifully-written story that throws light on an important and largely unmet societal problem. One that has eluded us forever: how to house the houseless, including families with no place they can afford to live, people with mental health issues unable to care […]

The Weight of Snow and Regret & Bo Hopkins’ Blues

The Weight of Snow and Regret & Bo Hopkins’ Blues

My Review The Weight of Snow and Regret by Elizabeth Gauffreau is a beautifully-written story that throws light on an important and largely unmet societal problem. One that has eluded us forever: how to house the houseless, including families with no place they can afford to live, people with mental health issues unable to care […]

The Weight of Snow and Regret & Bo Hopkins’ Blues

The Weight of Snow and Regret & Bo Hopkins’ Blues

My Review The Weight of Snow and Regret by Elizabeth Gauffreau is a beautifully-written story that throws light on an important and largely unmet societal problem. One that has eluded us forever: how to house the houseless, including families with no place they can afford to live, people with mental health issues unable to care […]

The Weight of Snow and Regret & Bo Hopkins’ Blues

The Weight of Snow and Regret & Bo Hopkins’ Blues

My Review The Weight of Snow and Regret by Elizabeth Gauffreau is a beautifully-written story that throws light on an important and largely unmet societal problem. One that has eluded us forever: how to house the houseless, including families with no place they can afford to live, people with mental health issues unable to care […]

The Weight of Snow and Regret & Bo Hopkins’ Blues

2) Dive headfirst into the lives of 2 Black lovers in the racist 1920s & their struggles for a better life in Jasmine Elizabeth Smith's blues-infused poetry collection "South Flight", winner of the 2021 Georgia Poetry Prize

#BlackWriters #AmericanLiterature #AmericanPoetry

2) Dive headfirst into the lives of 2 Black lovers in the racist 1920s & their struggles for a better life in Jasmine Elizabeth Smith's blues-infused poetry collection "South Flight", winner of the 2021 Georgia Poetry Prize

#BlackWriters #AmericanLiterature #AmericanPoetry

2) Dive headfirst into the lives of 2 Black lovers in the racist 1920s & their struggles for a better life in Jasmine Elizabeth Smith's blues-infused poetry collection "South Flight", winner of the 2021 Georgia Poetry Prize

#BlackWriters #AmericanLiterature #AmericanPoetry

Deadline Today: BLACK Screenwriters Festival:

blackfeedbackfilmfestival.com/black-screen...

This festival has a guaranteed 4-tier set up for each accepted script. (No matter what, all #screenplays submitted receive FULL FEEDBACK on their work.)

#blackwriters

BLACK Screenwriters Festival

Deadline Today: BLACK Screenwriters Festival:

blackfeedbackfilmfestival.com/black-screen...

This festival has a guaranteed 4-tier set up for each accepted script. (No matter what, all #screenplays submitted receive FULL FEEDBACK on their work.)

#blackwriters

BLACK Screenwriters Festival

Deadline Today: BLACK Screenwriters Festival:

blackfeedbackfilmfestival.com/black-screen...

This festival has a guaranteed 4-tier set up for each accepted script. (No matter what, all #screenplays submitted receive FULL FEEDBACK on their work.)

#blackwriters

BLACK Screenwriters Festival

Deadline Today: BLACK Screenwriters Festival:

blackfeedbackfilmfestival.com/black-screen...

This festival has a guaranteed 4-tier set up for each accepted script. (No matter what, all #screenplays submitted receive FULL FEEDBACK on their work.)

#blackwriters

BLACK Screenwriters Festival

Deadline Today: BLACK Screenwriters Festival:

blackfeedbackfilmfestival.com/black-screen...

This festival has a guaranteed 4-tier set up for each accepted script. (No matter what, all #screenplays submitted receive FULL FEEDBACK on their work.)

#blackwriters

BLACK Screenwriters Festival

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview (Grand-Finale Week)

“Skylar, did you have fun tonight with Jorge?” Dad asked me upon my entrance inside the house after two hours spent at the upscale diner and a matinee at the movies. And now, both my parents were waiting up for me in the living room with expecting looks on their faces.

“We did, but remembered that we had school tomorrow,” I replied as I took off my jacket. “Jorge gave me his undivided attention and I did the same for him.”

“And are you excited for this Wednesday when you’ll see him again?” Mom asked eagerly.

I inhaled sharply. “I am, but-“

“Ah-ah, no ‘buts.’ This is a week dedicated to you and you alone, Skylar, as your peers are hoping that you’ll make the right choice,” Dad cut me off. “Don’t you think that you deserve to have a bit of happiness of your own, especially with a boy like Jorge who grew up with you?”

“Enrique grew up with me back in the day as well,” I replied meekly.

Mom scoffed, rolling her eyes as she motioned to sit in between her and Dad on the sofa, the TV playing some reality show on mute. “Enrique Pinero’s your grandparents’ favorite, not ours,” she stated. “Yes, his family is well-to-do and they have their connections as well, but the boy is too enigmatic for my and your father’s tastes. That, and I heard that he’s too deep with that Simmons huzzy and her friends. No, Skylar. You and Jorge are meant to be together. Fate is binding you two, and everyone believes that you two need to make it official.”

But not everyone thinks the same way, I wanted to shoot back. “Well, Jorge did say that he wants to continue fighting for me as long as possible,” I replied before giving my parents a recap of what’s been said at the restaurant.

“Sounds like Jorge knows what he wants, and it’s not Simmons,” Dad intoned. “And he’s right with you needing to make the best choice for everyone, even when it means making everyone else unhappy. But your mother and I will not be so forgiving if you choose that Pinero boy or not choose at all. That year-long project is still in effect, and you can’t afford to fail senior year. Not when everything that you dreamed of is in close range for you to touch.”

“And think about the opportunities you’ll enjoy if you choose wisely- and I mean, if you choose Jorge,” Mom added. “You being given a place at the Fernandez table, being the favorite in all the students’ eyes and given many passes by the teachers, being voted ‘Cutest Couple’ in the school yearbook by your classmates. All of that and more can be yours, but not if you make the wrong choice.”

“And what about Greenlee?”

“Forget her for a moment, boy, and think about what you’ll leave behind if you don’t do what’s best for everyone,” Dad admonished me sternly. “As long as she doesn’t try anything reckless or put you in harm’s way, you won’t have to fear her. All you need to do is the right thing.”

All I could do is just nod. They just didn’t get it because they didn’t have it bad growing up like I did as a queer kid in a very conservative state in the Deep South. Or maybe they didn’t want to get it at all or just don’t care about the consequences…

You’ll never forget the first time! “Edge of Seventeen” is reaching the final several chapters all this week, available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview (Grand-Finale Week)

“Skylar, did you have fun tonight with Jorge?” Dad asked me upon my entrance inside the house after two hours spent at the upscale diner and a matinee at the movies. And now, both my parents were waiting up for me in the living room with expecting looks on their faces.

“We did, but remembered that we had school tomorrow,” I replied as I took off my jacket. “Jorge gave me his undivided attention and I did the same for him.”

“And are you excited for this Wednesday when you’ll see him again?” Mom asked eagerly.

I inhaled sharply. “I am, but-“

“Ah-ah, no ‘buts.’ This is a week dedicated to you and you alone, Skylar, as your peers are hoping that you’ll make the right choice,” Dad cut me off. “Don’t you think that you deserve to have a bit of happiness of your own, especially with a boy like Jorge who grew up with you?”

“Enrique grew up with me back in the day as well,” I replied meekly.

Mom scoffed, rolling her eyes as she motioned to sit in between her and Dad on the sofa, the TV playing some reality show on mute. “Enrique Pinero’s your grandparents’ favorite, not ours,” she stated. “Yes, his family is well-to-do and they have their connections as well, but the boy is too enigmatic for my and your father’s tastes. That, and I heard that he’s too deep with that Simmons huzzy and her friends. No, Skylar. You and Jorge are meant to be together. Fate is binding you two, and everyone believes that you two need to make it official.”

But not everyone thinks the same way, I wanted to shoot back. “Well, Jorge did say that he wants to continue fighting for me as long as possible,” I replied before giving my parents a recap of what’s been said at the restaurant.

“Sounds like Jorge knows what he wants, and it’s not Simmons,” Dad intoned. “And he’s right with you needing to make the best choice for everyone, even when it means making everyone else unhappy. But your mother and I will not be so forgiving if you choose that Pinero boy or not choose at all. That year-long project is still in effect, and you can’t afford to fail senior year. Not when everything that you dreamed of is in close range for you to touch.”

“And think about the opportunities you’ll enjoy if you choose wisely- and I mean, if you choose Jorge,” Mom added. “You being given a place at the Fernandez table, being the favorite in all the students’ eyes and given many passes by the teachers, being voted ‘Cutest Couple’ in the school yearbook by your classmates. All of that and more can be yours, but not if you make the wrong choice.”

“And what about Greenlee?”

“Forget her for a moment, boy, and think about what you’ll leave behind if you don’t do what’s best for everyone,” Dad admonished me sternly. “As long as she doesn’t try anything reckless or put you in harm’s way, you won’t have to fear her. All you need to do is the right thing.”

All I could do is just nod. They just didn’t get it because they didn’t have it bad growing up like I did as a queer kid in a very conservative state in the Deep South. Or maybe they didn’t want to get it at all or just don’t care about the consequences…

You’ll never forget the first time! “Edge of Seventeen” is reaching the final several chapters all this week, available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview (Grand-Finale Week)

“Skylar, did you have fun tonight with Jorge?” Dad asked me upon my entrance inside the house after two hours spent at the upscale diner and a matinee at the movies. And now, both my parents were waiting up for me in the living room with expecting looks on their faces.

“We did, but remembered that we had school tomorrow,” I replied as I took off my jacket. “Jorge gave me his undivided attention and I did the same for him.”

“And are you excited for this Wednesday when you’ll see him again?” Mom asked eagerly.

I inhaled sharply. “I am, but-“

“Ah-ah, no ‘buts.’ This is a week dedicated to you and you alone, Skylar, as your peers are hoping that you’ll make the right choice,” Dad cut me off. “Don’t you think that you deserve to have a bit of happiness of your own, especially with a boy like Jorge who grew up with you?”

“Enrique grew up with me back in the day as well,” I replied meekly.

Mom scoffed, rolling her eyes as she motioned to sit in between her and Dad on the sofa, the TV playing some reality show on mute. “Enrique Pinero’s your grandparents’ favorite, not ours,” she stated. “Yes, his family is well-to-do and they have their connections as well, but the boy is too enigmatic for my and your father’s tastes. That, and I heard that he’s too deep with that Simmons huzzy and her friends. No, Skylar. You and Jorge are meant to be together. Fate is binding you two, and everyone believes that you two need to make it official.”

But not everyone thinks the same way, I wanted to shoot back. “Well, Jorge did say that he wants to continue fighting for me as long as possible,” I replied before giving my parents a recap of what’s been said at the restaurant.

“Sounds like Jorge knows what he wants, and it’s not Simmons,” Dad intoned. “And he’s right with you needing to make the best choice for everyone, even when it means making everyone else unhappy. But your mother and I will not be so forgiving if you choose that Pinero boy or not choose at all. That year-long project is still in effect, and you can’t afford to fail senior year. Not when everything that you dreamed of is in close range for you to touch.”

“And think about the opportunities you’ll enjoy if you choose wisely- and I mean, if you choose Jorge,” Mom added. “You being given a place at the Fernandez table, being the favorite in all the students’ eyes and given many passes by the teachers, being voted ‘Cutest Couple’ in the school yearbook by your classmates. All of that and more can be yours, but not if you make the wrong choice.”

“And what about Greenlee?”

“Forget her for a moment, boy, and think about what you’ll leave behind if you don’t do what’s best for everyone,” Dad admonished me sternly. “As long as she doesn’t try anything reckless or put you in harm’s way, you won’t have to fear her. All you need to do is the right thing.”

All I could do is just nod. They just didn’t get it because they didn’t have it bad growing up like I did as a queer kid in a very conservative state in the Deep South. Or maybe they didn’t want to get it at all or just don’t care about the consequences…

You’ll never forget the first time! “Edge of Seventeen” is reaching the final several chapters all this week, available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview (Grand-Finale Week)

“Skylar, did you have fun tonight with Jorge?” Dad asked me upon my entrance inside the house after two hours spent at the upscale diner and a matinee at the movies. And now, both my parents were waiting up for me in the living room with expecting looks on their faces.

“We did, but remembered that we had school tomorrow,” I replied as I took off my jacket. “Jorge gave me his undivided attention and I did the same for him.”

“And are you excited for this Wednesday when you’ll see him again?” Mom asked eagerly.

I inhaled sharply. “I am, but-“

“Ah-ah, no ‘buts.’ This is a week dedicated to you and you alone, Skylar, as your peers are hoping that you’ll make the right choice,” Dad cut me off. “Don’t you think that you deserve to have a bit of happiness of your own, especially with a boy like Jorge who grew up with you?”

“Enrique grew up with me back in the day as well,” I replied meekly.

Mom scoffed, rolling her eyes as she motioned to sit in between her and Dad on the sofa, the TV playing some reality show on mute. “Enrique Pinero’s your grandparents’ favorite, not ours,” she stated. “Yes, his family is well-to-do and they have their connections as well, but the boy is too enigmatic for my and your father’s tastes. That, and I heard that he’s too deep with that Simmons huzzy and her friends. No, Skylar. You and Jorge are meant to be together. Fate is binding you two, and everyone believes that you two need to make it official.”

But not everyone thinks the same way, I wanted to shoot back. “Well, Jorge did say that he wants to continue fighting for me as long as possible,” I replied before giving my parents a recap of what’s been said at the restaurant.

“Sounds like Jorge knows what he wants, and it’s not Simmons,” Dad intoned. “And he’s right with you needing to make the best choice for everyone, even when it means making everyone else unhappy. But your mother and I will not be so forgiving if you choose that Pinero boy or not choose at all. That year-long project is still in effect, and you can’t afford to fail senior year. Not when everything that you dreamed of is in close range for you to touch.”

“And think about the opportunities you’ll enjoy if you choose wisely- and I mean, if you choose Jorge,” Mom added. “You being given a place at the Fernandez table, being the favorite in all the students’ eyes and given many passes by the teachers, being voted ‘Cutest Couple’ in the school yearbook by your classmates. All of that and more can be yours, but not if you make the wrong choice.”

“And what about Greenlee?”

“Forget her for a moment, boy, and think about what you’ll leave behind if you don’t do what’s best for everyone,” Dad admonished me sternly. “As long as she doesn’t try anything reckless or put you in harm’s way, you won’t have to fear her. All you need to do is the right thing.”

All I could do is just nod. They just didn’t get it because they didn’t have it bad growing up like I did as a queer kid in a very conservative state in the Deep South. Or maybe they didn’t want to get it at all or just don’t care about the consequences…

You’ll never forget the first time! “Edge of Seventeen” is reaching the final several chapters all this week, available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview (Grand-Finale Week)

“Skylar, did you have fun tonight with Jorge?” Dad asked me upon my entrance inside the house after two hours spent at the upscale diner and a matinee at the movies. And now, both my parents were waiting up for me in the living room with expecting looks on their faces.

“We did, but remembered that we had school tomorrow,” I replied as I took off my jacket. “Jorge gave me his undivided attention and I did the same for him.”

“And are you excited for this Wednesday when you’ll see him again?” Mom asked eagerly.

I inhaled sharply. “I am, but-“

“Ah-ah, no ‘buts.’ This is a week dedicated to you and you alone, Skylar, as your peers are hoping that you’ll make the right choice,” Dad cut me off. “Don’t you think that you deserve to have a bit of happiness of your own, especially with a boy like Jorge who grew up with you?”

“Enrique grew up with me back in the day as well,” I replied meekly.

Mom scoffed, rolling her eyes as she motioned to sit in between her and Dad on the sofa, the TV playing some reality show on mute. “Enrique Pinero’s your grandparents’ favorite, not ours,” she stated. “Yes, his family is well-to-do and they have their connections as well, but the boy is too enigmatic for my and your father’s tastes. That, and I heard that he’s too deep with that Simmons huzzy and her friends. No, Skylar. You and Jorge are meant to be together. Fate is binding you two, and everyone believes that you two need to make it official.”

But not everyone thinks the same way, I wanted to shoot back. “Well, Jorge did say that he wants to continue fighting for me as long as possible,” I replied before giving my parents a recap of what’s been said at the restaurant.

“Sounds like Jorge knows what he wants, and it’s not Simmons,” Dad intoned. “And he’s right with you needing to make the best choice for everyone, even when it means making everyone else unhappy. But your mother and I will not be so forgiving if you choose that Pinero boy or not choose at all. That year-long project is still in effect, and you can’t afford to fail senior year. Not when everything that you dreamed of is in close range for you to touch.”

“And think about the opportunities you’ll enjoy if you choose wisely- and I mean, if you choose Jorge,” Mom added. “You being given a place at the Fernandez table, being the favorite in all the students’ eyes and given many passes by the teachers, being voted ‘Cutest Couple’ in the school yearbook by your classmates. All of that and more can be yours, but not if you make the wrong choice.”

“And what about Greenlee?”

“Forget her for a moment, boy, and think about what you’ll leave behind if you don’t do what’s best for everyone,” Dad admonished me sternly. “As long as she doesn’t try anything reckless or put you in harm’s way, you won’t have to fear her. All you need to do is the right thing.”

All I could do is just nod. They just didn’t get it because they didn’t have it bad growing up like I did as a queer kid in a very conservative state in the Deep South. Or maybe they didn’t want to get it at all or just don’t care about the consequences…

You’ll never forget the first time! “Edge of Seventeen” is reaching the final several chapters all this week, available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“The Passion of Sean Gillain” Sneak Preview

“I think that you should consider joining the student showcase,” Trevor said as he, Liam, Alyssia, and I met up at the school’s student center with cups of coffee (iced tea for me under Jace’s instructions) on hand. “Who knows what talent you’ve got hiding under you? And believe me, bro, I’ve seen your designs. The cocktail dress inspired by the Cherokee rose is kind of my favorite.” 

“Yeah, but that’s where Jessica began her road to stardom with dressing celebrities for all the award ceremonies and whatnot,” I remarked. “And you know the standards will be high. What if she becomes one of the judges on the panel and she’ll make sure that I am barred from the fashion world for good? Or what if my designs fall flat?” 

“But what do you think will happen if your line becomes a success and you get some street cred?” Liam offered. 

I shook my head no. “That’ll never happen.”

“Sean, be serious about this,” Alyssia commented, pausing to sip on her cup of cappuccino. “You only get one shot of making it big while you’re presented with this opportunity. Do you know how many freshmen would kill to be presented with this moment?”

“Bully for them,” I stated firmly. “Then they can have my spot while I stick with being under the radar.”

“Worrying that your parents and older siblings will get under your skin?” Liam asked. 

Before I could reply, my cellphone ring with Ra’Keem’s number flashing on the screen. “Damn it,” I hissed. “I’ve been hoping to avoid this challenge from my therapist. Talking to Ra’Keem right now could spell disaster.” 

“But you know that Dad and Pops won’t relent until you do,” Trevor reminded me. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

I knew he was right. “Fine, but I know that this is going to bite me on the ass,” I said as I pressed answer. “Hello?”

A pause. Then, “It’s about time you picked up the phone, Sean,” I heard my brother’s cocky voice over the line. “Dad’s been hoping that you’ve finally got the sense to talk to someone other than your uncles and your cousins.” 

“Well, I’m here now. So, to what do I owe this phone call?”

“Straight to the point, aren’t we? Fine, bro. I’ll play along. Look, I’ll be heading up to New York/New Jersey as the Falcons are playing the Jets, and Dad’s been on his spiel to make sure that everyone’s going to be there. It’ll be good for you to come along, but you gotta look like somebody. So Jessica’s coming over to Newport and make sure that you’re ready for your premiere.” 

I knew that this was going to happen. “I actually have other plans,” I began. 

“And they can wait until after your brother’s game,” came the sharp and condescending voice of my father as he got on the line. “This is going to be  good for you to start bonding with all of us, especially Ra’Keem since he still thinks that you’d be better off with him in Atlanta. Or maybe give some thought to move in with Jessica in Savannah or bond with me and your mother as well as Jamal and Monica in Macon.”

I shook my head. “Well, you did say that the move to Rhode Island will be good for me,” I commented. “That, and I’m not keen on being with people who see me as an expendable accessory to your golden children’s campaigns.”

There was a chilling pause. Then, “You really don’t want to disappoint this family more than you already are, do you?”

That was it, folks. Time to end this now. “I’ve been disappointing you and everyone else since I was born and living with your in-laws,” I replied coldly. “So why should things be different now? As for the plans regarding the game, I regret to inform you that I will not be attending.”

“Sean, you are really acting too cool for us,” Ra’Keem’s voice said harshly. “Maybe it’s best that you don’t be with us for my game. You bring us down with your holier-than-thou attitude and all that shit.” 

“Well, big brother, that makes it easier for me to say no and end this call right now.” And before I lost my nerve or let him or Dad say anything else, I ended the call…

You’ll never forget the first time! “The Passion of Sean Gillain,” available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“The Passion of Sean Gillain” Sneak Preview

“I think that you should consider joining the student showcase,” Trevor said as he, Liam, Alyssia, and I met up at the school’s student center with cups of coffee (iced tea for me under Jace’s instructions) on hand. “Who knows what talent you’ve got hiding under you? And believe me, bro, I’ve seen your designs. The cocktail dress inspired by the Cherokee rose is kind of my favorite.” 

“Yeah, but that’s where Jessica began her road to stardom with dressing celebrities for all the award ceremonies and whatnot,” I remarked. “And you know the standards will be high. What if she becomes one of the judges on the panel and she’ll make sure that I am barred from the fashion world for good? Or what if my designs fall flat?” 

“But what do you think will happen if your line becomes a success and you get some street cred?” Liam offered. 

I shook my head no. “That’ll never happen.”

“Sean, be serious about this,” Alyssia commented, pausing to sip on her cup of cappuccino. “You only get one shot of making it big while you’re presented with this opportunity. Do you know how many freshmen would kill to be presented with this moment?”

“Bully for them,” I stated firmly. “Then they can have my spot while I stick with being under the radar.”

“Worrying that your parents and older siblings will get under your skin?” Liam asked. 

Before I could reply, my cellphone ring with Ra’Keem’s number flashing on the screen. “Damn it,” I hissed. “I’ve been hoping to avoid this challenge from my therapist. Talking to Ra’Keem right now could spell disaster.” 

“But you know that Dad and Pops won’t relent until you do,” Trevor reminded me. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

I knew he was right. “Fine, but I know that this is going to bite me on the ass,” I said as I pressed answer. “Hello?”

A pause. Then, “It’s about time you picked up the phone, Sean,” I heard my brother’s cocky voice over the line. “Dad’s been hoping that you’ve finally got the sense to talk to someone other than your uncles and your cousins.” 

“Well, I’m here now. So, to what do I owe this phone call?”

“Straight to the point, aren’t we? Fine, bro. I’ll play along. Look, I’ll be heading up to New York/New Jersey as the Falcons are playing the Jets, and Dad’s been on his spiel to make sure that everyone’s going to be there. It’ll be good for you to come along, but you gotta look like somebody. So Jessica’s coming over to Newport and make sure that you’re ready for your premiere.” 

I knew that this was going to happen. “I actually have other plans,” I began. 

“And they can wait until after your brother’s game,” came the sharp and condescending voice of my father as he got on the line. “This is going to be  good for you to start bonding with all of us, especially Ra’Keem since he still thinks that you’d be better off with him in Atlanta. Or maybe give some thought to move in with Jessica in Savannah or bond with me and your mother as well as Jamal and Monica in Macon.”

I shook my head. “Well, you did say that the move to Rhode Island will be good for me,” I commented. “That, and I’m not keen on being with people who see me as an expendable accessory to your golden children’s campaigns.”

There was a chilling pause. Then, “You really don’t want to disappoint this family more than you already are, do you?”

That was it, folks. Time to end this now. “I’ve been disappointing you and everyone else since I was born and living with your in-laws,” I replied coldly. “So why should things be different now? As for the plans regarding the game, I regret to inform you that I will not be attending.”

“Sean, you are really acting too cool for us,” Ra’Keem’s voice said harshly. “Maybe it’s best that you don’t be with us for my game. You bring us down with your holier-than-thou attitude and all that shit.” 

“Well, big brother, that makes it easier for me to say no and end this call right now.” And before I lost my nerve or let him or Dad say anything else, I ended the call…

You’ll never forget the first time! “The Passion of Sean Gillain,” available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“The Passion of Sean Gillain” Sneak Preview

“I think that you should consider joining the student showcase,” Trevor said as he, Liam, Alyssia, and I met up at the school’s student center with cups of coffee (iced tea for me under Jace’s instructions) on hand. “Who knows what talent you’ve got hiding under you? And believe me, bro, I’ve seen your designs. The cocktail dress inspired by the Cherokee rose is kind of my favorite.” 

“Yeah, but that’s where Jessica began her road to stardom with dressing celebrities for all the award ceremonies and whatnot,” I remarked. “And you know the standards will be high. What if she becomes one of the judges on the panel and she’ll make sure that I am barred from the fashion world for good? Or what if my designs fall flat?” 

“But what do you think will happen if your line becomes a success and you get some street cred?” Liam offered. 

I shook my head no. “That’ll never happen.”

“Sean, be serious about this,” Alyssia commented, pausing to sip on her cup of cappuccino. “You only get one shot of making it big while you’re presented with this opportunity. Do you know how many freshmen would kill to be presented with this moment?”

“Bully for them,” I stated firmly. “Then they can have my spot while I stick with being under the radar.”

“Worrying that your parents and older siblings will get under your skin?” Liam asked. 

Before I could reply, my cellphone ring with Ra’Keem’s number flashing on the screen. “Damn it,” I hissed. “I’ve been hoping to avoid this challenge from my therapist. Talking to Ra’Keem right now could spell disaster.” 

“But you know that Dad and Pops won’t relent until you do,” Trevor reminded me. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

I knew he was right. “Fine, but I know that this is going to bite me on the ass,” I said as I pressed answer. “Hello?”

A pause. Then, “It’s about time you picked up the phone, Sean,” I heard my brother’s cocky voice over the line. “Dad’s been hoping that you’ve finally got the sense to talk to someone other than your uncles and your cousins.” 

“Well, I’m here now. So, to what do I owe this phone call?”

“Straight to the point, aren’t we? Fine, bro. I’ll play along. Look, I’ll be heading up to New York/New Jersey as the Falcons are playing the Jets, and Dad’s been on his spiel to make sure that everyone’s going to be there. It’ll be good for you to come along, but you gotta look like somebody. So Jessica’s coming over to Newport and make sure that you’re ready for your premiere.” 

I knew that this was going to happen. “I actually have other plans,” I began. 

“And they can wait until after your brother’s game,” came the sharp and condescending voice of my father as he got on the line. “This is going to be  good for you to start bonding with all of us, especially Ra’Keem since he still thinks that you’d be better off with him in Atlanta. Or maybe give some thought to move in with Jessica in Savannah or bond with me and your mother as well as Jamal and Monica in Macon.”

I shook my head. “Well, you did say that the move to Rhode Island will be good for me,” I commented. “That, and I’m not keen on being with people who see me as an expendable accessory to your golden children’s campaigns.”

There was a chilling pause. Then, “You really don’t want to disappoint this family more than you already are, do you?”

That was it, folks. Time to end this now. “I’ve been disappointing you and everyone else since I was born and living with your in-laws,” I replied coldly. “So why should things be different now? As for the plans regarding the game, I regret to inform you that I will not be attending.”

“Sean, you are really acting too cool for us,” Ra’Keem’s voice said harshly. “Maybe it’s best that you don’t be with us for my game. You bring us down with your holier-than-thou attitude and all that shit.” 

“Well, big brother, that makes it easier for me to say no and end this call right now.” And before I lost my nerve or let him or Dad say anything else, I ended the call…

You’ll never forget the first time! “The Passion of Sean Gillain,” available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“The Passion of Sean Gillain” Sneak Preview

“I think that you should consider joining the student showcase,” Trevor said as he, Liam, Alyssia, and I met up at the school’s student center with cups of coffee (iced tea for me under Jace’s instructions) on hand. “Who knows what talent you’ve got hiding under you? And believe me, bro, I’ve seen your designs. The cocktail dress inspired by the Cherokee rose is kind of my favorite.” 

“Yeah, but that’s where Jessica began her road to stardom with dressing celebrities for all the award ceremonies and whatnot,” I remarked. “And you know the standards will be high. What if she becomes one of the judges on the panel and she’ll make sure that I am barred from the fashion world for good? Or what if my designs fall flat?” 

“But what do you think will happen if your line becomes a success and you get some street cred?” Liam offered. 

I shook my head no. “That’ll never happen.”

“Sean, be serious about this,” Alyssia commented, pausing to sip on her cup of cappuccino. “You only get one shot of making it big while you’re presented with this opportunity. Do you know how many freshmen would kill to be presented with this moment?”

“Bully for them,” I stated firmly. “Then they can have my spot while I stick with being under the radar.”

“Worrying that your parents and older siblings will get under your skin?” Liam asked. 

Before I could reply, my cellphone ring with Ra’Keem’s number flashing on the screen. “Damn it,” I hissed. “I’ve been hoping to avoid this challenge from my therapist. Talking to Ra’Keem right now could spell disaster.” 

“But you know that Dad and Pops won’t relent until you do,” Trevor reminded me. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

I knew he was right. “Fine, but I know that this is going to bite me on the ass,” I said as I pressed answer. “Hello?”

A pause. Then, “It’s about time you picked up the phone, Sean,” I heard my brother’s cocky voice over the line. “Dad’s been hoping that you’ve finally got the sense to talk to someone other than your uncles and your cousins.” 

“Well, I’m here now. So, to what do I owe this phone call?”

“Straight to the point, aren’t we? Fine, bro. I’ll play along. Look, I’ll be heading up to New York/New Jersey as the Falcons are playing the Jets, and Dad’s been on his spiel to make sure that everyone’s going to be there. It’ll be good for you to come along, but you gotta look like somebody. So Jessica’s coming over to Newport and make sure that you’re ready for your premiere.” 

I knew that this was going to happen. “I actually have other plans,” I began. 

“And they can wait until after your brother’s game,” came the sharp and condescending voice of my father as he got on the line. “This is going to be  good for you to start bonding with all of us, especially Ra’Keem since he still thinks that you’d be better off with him in Atlanta. Or maybe give some thought to move in with Jessica in Savannah or bond with me and your mother as well as Jamal and Monica in Macon.”

I shook my head. “Well, you did say that the move to Rhode Island will be good for me,” I commented. “That, and I’m not keen on being with people who see me as an expendable accessory to your golden children’s campaigns.”

There was a chilling pause. Then, “You really don’t want to disappoint this family more than you already are, do you?”

That was it, folks. Time to end this now. “I’ve been disappointing you and everyone else since I was born and living with your in-laws,” I replied coldly. “So why should things be different now? As for the plans regarding the game, I regret to inform you that I will not be attending.”

“Sean, you are really acting too cool for us,” Ra’Keem’s voice said harshly. “Maybe it’s best that you don’t be with us for my game. You bring us down with your holier-than-thou attitude and all that shit.” 

“Well, big brother, that makes it easier for me to say no and end this call right now.” And before I lost my nerve or let him or Dad say anything else, I ended the call…

You’ll never forget the first time! “The Passion of Sean Gillain,” available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“The Passion of Sean Gillain” Sneak Preview

“I think that you should consider joining the student showcase,” Trevor said as he, Liam, Alyssia, and I met up at the school’s student center with cups of coffee (iced tea for me under Jace’s instructions) on hand. “Who knows what talent you’ve got hiding under you? And believe me, bro, I’ve seen your designs. The cocktail dress inspired by the Cherokee rose is kind of my favorite.” 

“Yeah, but that’s where Jessica began her road to stardom with dressing celebrities for all the award ceremonies and whatnot,” I remarked. “And you know the standards will be high. What if she becomes one of the judges on the panel and she’ll make sure that I am barred from the fashion world for good? Or what if my designs fall flat?” 

“But what do you think will happen if your line becomes a success and you get some street cred?” Liam offered. 

I shook my head no. “That’ll never happen.”

“Sean, be serious about this,” Alyssia commented, pausing to sip on her cup of cappuccino. “You only get one shot of making it big while you’re presented with this opportunity. Do you know how many freshmen would kill to be presented with this moment?”

“Bully for them,” I stated firmly. “Then they can have my spot while I stick with being under the radar.”

“Worrying that your parents and older siblings will get under your skin?” Liam asked. 

Before I could reply, my cellphone ring with Ra’Keem’s number flashing on the screen. “Damn it,” I hissed. “I’ve been hoping to avoid this challenge from my therapist. Talking to Ra’Keem right now could spell disaster.” 

“But you know that Dad and Pops won’t relent until you do,” Trevor reminded me. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

I knew he was right. “Fine, but I know that this is going to bite me on the ass,” I said as I pressed answer. “Hello?”

A pause. Then, “It’s about time you picked up the phone, Sean,” I heard my brother’s cocky voice over the line. “Dad’s been hoping that you’ve finally got the sense to talk to someone other than your uncles and your cousins.” 

“Well, I’m here now. So, to what do I owe this phone call?”

“Straight to the point, aren’t we? Fine, bro. I’ll play along. Look, I’ll be heading up to New York/New Jersey as the Falcons are playing the Jets, and Dad’s been on his spiel to make sure that everyone’s going to be there. It’ll be good for you to come along, but you gotta look like somebody. So Jessica’s coming over to Newport and make sure that you’re ready for your premiere.” 

I knew that this was going to happen. “I actually have other plans,” I began. 

“And they can wait until after your brother’s game,” came the sharp and condescending voice of my father as he got on the line. “This is going to be  good for you to start bonding with all of us, especially Ra’Keem since he still thinks that you’d be better off with him in Atlanta. Or maybe give some thought to move in with Jessica in Savannah or bond with me and your mother as well as Jamal and Monica in Macon.”

I shook my head. “Well, you did say that the move to Rhode Island will be good for me,” I commented. “That, and I’m not keen on being with people who see me as an expendable accessory to your golden children’s campaigns.”

There was a chilling pause. Then, “You really don’t want to disappoint this family more than you already are, do you?”

That was it, folks. Time to end this now. “I’ve been disappointing you and everyone else since I was born and living with your in-laws,” I replied coldly. “So why should things be different now? As for the plans regarding the game, I regret to inform you that I will not be attending.”

“Sean, you are really acting too cool for us,” Ra’Keem’s voice said harshly. “Maybe it’s best that you don’t be with us for my game. You bring us down with your holier-than-thou attitude and all that shit.” 

“Well, big brother, that makes it easier for me to say no and end this call right now.” And before I lost my nerve or let him or Dad say anything else, I ended the call…

You’ll never forget the first time! “The Passion of Sean Gillain,” available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview

“Good morning, Centennial Grove High! It’s not only midterms week, but it’s also Homecoming week as our Grizzlies get prepped to take on Merck-Barnes High School’s Red Devils,” the cheerful voice of the school secretary chirped as everyone was filing through the halls. “And beginning with tonight’s town-hall meeting in the school gymnasium, our school’s having a week’s worth of events to celebrate our school spirit! Make sure to focus on your grades if you want access to the after-game school dance on Friday and get your tickets to Friday’s game and dance!” 

“It’s the week of school spirits and excess good-time fun,” Rhea harrumphed as she, Shandi, Andretta, Andelle, and I met up at our lockers. “If not for this year-long senior project, I’d be glad to stay home and thrash to some KISS or Linkin Park on Friday night. But I think that I might have a fair shake at being crowned queen.”

“Any of us could be crowned Homecoming monarchs, Rhea,” Shandra stated as she shot a brief glance. “Some more than others, given the current circumstances.”

“Well, my main worry is how everyone will be jockeying me to choose whom I’ll be official with- Jorge or Enrique,” I remarked as I unlocked my locker and got what I needed for the morning. “Add in Greenlee and her gang as well my family and the guys’ families, and I have a real party on my hands.”

“But the other option is to fail senior year and possibly repeat the grade,” Andretta remarked. “Mama and Daddy say that Uncle Julius has been acting strange lately and Aunt Mary Ella’s been miffed at him as I don’t know what.” 

“You guys don’t think that he’ll be working with Greenlee in wanting me to be with Enrique so she can have Jorge to herself, do you?” I asked. 

“Damned if I know, but we gotta keep our eyes sharp and our ears to the ground,” Andelle stated. To me, “And you have to focus on these midterms and Jorge and Enrique courting you so everyone will get off your back.”

“Really, loser? I think that’s not fair for O’Hara to hog all the guys,” came the delightfully drawling voice of Greenlee as she, Jeannine, and Kendall sauntered over with matching smug sneers on their faces. “And besides, everyone who’s anyone knows that Skylar has to be with Enrique. That, and at least drop out of the race for the Homecoming crown.”

I vainly fought the urge to roll my eyes. “You’d know that I can’t bow out,” I shot back. “Everyone who’s been announced as finalists for the Homecoming court need to have a fair shot like you do.”

“Is that right?” Jeannine said sarcastically. “Come on, O’Hara. If you really have the proper school spirit, you’d do Greenlee a solid and drop out right now. Not just out of the competition, but from the school completely. You may be on the diving team and all that, but you really have no place here. Not as long as Jorge is making googly eyes over you when he should be doing so over Greenlee.”

“Lord Jesus, do you have a muzzle that your parents need to use on you?” Andretta spat. “Bitch, you come for my cousin and I’ll come for you and your lady mistress too! Same thing goes for your friend here. And Skylar here is destined to win the crown.”

Just as Kendall was getting ready to crack her knuckles, the bell rang that signaled for everyone to head to homeroom. “To be continued,” Greenlee said threateningly as she motioned for her friends to follow her. 

I sighed as we got ready to do the same. “Batten down the hatches, girls, because a storm is coming to Texas by the name of Greenlee Simmons,” I intoned. “And whether or not I’m prepared, I gotta get through this long week.”

And that was the truth…

You’ll never forget the first time! ” Catch up with “Edge of Seventeen,” available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview

“Good morning, Centennial Grove High! It’s not only midterms week, but it’s also Homecoming week as our Grizzlies get prepped to take on Merck-Barnes High School’s Red Devils,” the cheerful voice of the school secretary chirped as everyone was filing through the halls. “And beginning with tonight’s town-hall meeting in the school gymnasium, our school’s having a week’s worth of events to celebrate our school spirit! Make sure to focus on your grades if you want access to the after-game school dance on Friday and get your tickets to Friday’s game and dance!” 

“It’s the week of school spirits and excess good-time fun,” Rhea harrumphed as she, Shandi, Andretta, Andelle, and I met up at our lockers. “If not for this year-long senior project, I’d be glad to stay home and thrash to some KISS or Linkin Park on Friday night. But I think that I might have a fair shake at being crowned queen.”

“Any of us could be crowned Homecoming monarchs, Rhea,” Shandra stated as she shot a brief glance. “Some more than others, given the current circumstances.”

“Well, my main worry is how everyone will be jockeying me to choose whom I’ll be official with- Jorge or Enrique,” I remarked as I unlocked my locker and got what I needed for the morning. “Add in Greenlee and her gang as well my family and the guys’ families, and I have a real party on my hands.”

“But the other option is to fail senior year and possibly repeat the grade,” Andretta remarked. “Mama and Daddy say that Uncle Julius has been acting strange lately and Aunt Mary Ella’s been miffed at him as I don’t know what.” 

“You guys don’t think that he’ll be working with Greenlee in wanting me to be with Enrique so she can have Jorge to herself, do you?” I asked. 

“Damned if I know, but we gotta keep our eyes sharp and our ears to the ground,” Andelle stated. To me, “And you have to focus on these midterms and Jorge and Enrique courting you so everyone will get off your back.”

“Really, loser? I think that’s not fair for O’Hara to hog all the guys,” came the delightfully drawling voice of Greenlee as she, Jeannine, and Kendall sauntered over with matching smug sneers on their faces. “And besides, everyone who’s anyone knows that Skylar has to be with Enrique. That, and at least drop out of the race for the Homecoming crown.”

I vainly fought the urge to roll my eyes. “You’d know that I can’t bow out,” I shot back. “Everyone who’s been announced as finalists for the Homecoming court need to have a fair shot like you do.”

“Is that right?” Jeannine said sarcastically. “Come on, O’Hara. If you really have the proper school spirit, you’d do Greenlee a solid and drop out right now. Not just out of the competition, but from the school completely. You may be on the diving team and all that, but you really have no place here. Not as long as Jorge is making googly eyes over you when he should be doing so over Greenlee.”

“Lord Jesus, do you have a muzzle that your parents need to use on you?” Andretta spat. “Bitch, you come for my cousin and I’ll come for you and your lady mistress too! Same thing goes for your friend here. And Skylar here is destined to win the crown.”

Just as Kendall was getting ready to crack her knuckles, the bell rang that signaled for everyone to head to homeroom. “To be continued,” Greenlee said threateningly as she motioned for her friends to follow her. 

I sighed as we got ready to do the same. “Batten down the hatches, girls, because a storm is coming to Texas by the name of Greenlee Simmons,” I intoned. “And whether or not I’m prepared, I gotta get through this long week.”

And that was the truth…

You’ll never forget the first time! ” Catch up with “Edge of Seventeen,” available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview

“Good morning, Centennial Grove High! It’s not only midterms week, but it’s also Homecoming week as our Grizzlies get prepped to take on Merck-Barnes High School’s Red Devils,” the cheerful voice of the school secretary chirped as everyone was filing through the halls. “And beginning with tonight’s town-hall meeting in the school gymnasium, our school’s having a week’s worth of events to celebrate our school spirit! Make sure to focus on your grades if you want access to the after-game school dance on Friday and get your tickets to Friday’s game and dance!” 

“It’s the week of school spirits and excess good-time fun,” Rhea harrumphed as she, Shandi, Andretta, Andelle, and I met up at our lockers. “If not for this year-long senior project, I’d be glad to stay home and thrash to some KISS or Linkin Park on Friday night. But I think that I might have a fair shake at being crowned queen.”

“Any of us could be crowned Homecoming monarchs, Rhea,” Shandra stated as she shot a brief glance. “Some more than others, given the current circumstances.”

“Well, my main worry is how everyone will be jockeying me to choose whom I’ll be official with- Jorge or Enrique,” I remarked as I unlocked my locker and got what I needed for the morning. “Add in Greenlee and her gang as well my family and the guys’ families, and I have a real party on my hands.”

“But the other option is to fail senior year and possibly repeat the grade,” Andretta remarked. “Mama and Daddy say that Uncle Julius has been acting strange lately and Aunt Mary Ella’s been miffed at him as I don’t know what.” 

“You guys don’t think that he’ll be working with Greenlee in wanting me to be with Enrique so she can have Jorge to herself, do you?” I asked. 

“Damned if I know, but we gotta keep our eyes sharp and our ears to the ground,” Andelle stated. To me, “And you have to focus on these midterms and Jorge and Enrique courting you so everyone will get off your back.”

“Really, loser? I think that’s not fair for O’Hara to hog all the guys,” came the delightfully drawling voice of Greenlee as she, Jeannine, and Kendall sauntered over with matching smug sneers on their faces. “And besides, everyone who’s anyone knows that Skylar has to be with Enrique. That, and at least drop out of the race for the Homecoming crown.”

I vainly fought the urge to roll my eyes. “You’d know that I can’t bow out,” I shot back. “Everyone who’s been announced as finalists for the Homecoming court need to have a fair shot like you do.”

“Is that right?” Jeannine said sarcastically. “Come on, O’Hara. If you really have the proper school spirit, you’d do Greenlee a solid and drop out right now. Not just out of the competition, but from the school completely. You may be on the diving team and all that, but you really have no place here. Not as long as Jorge is making googly eyes over you when he should be doing so over Greenlee.”

“Lord Jesus, do you have a muzzle that your parents need to use on you?” Andretta spat. “Bitch, you come for my cousin and I’ll come for you and your lady mistress too! Same thing goes for your friend here. And Skylar here is destined to win the crown.”

Just as Kendall was getting ready to crack her knuckles, the bell rang that signaled for everyone to head to homeroom. “To be continued,” Greenlee said threateningly as she motioned for her friends to follow her. 

I sighed as we got ready to do the same. “Batten down the hatches, girls, because a storm is coming to Texas by the name of Greenlee Simmons,” I intoned. “And whether or not I’m prepared, I gotta get through this long week.”

And that was the truth…

You’ll never forget the first time! ” Catch up with “Edge of Seventeen,” available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview

“Good morning, Centennial Grove High! It’s not only midterms week, but it’s also Homecoming week as our Grizzlies get prepped to take on Merck-Barnes High School’s Red Devils,” the cheerful voice of the school secretary chirped as everyone was filing through the halls. “And beginning with tonight’s town-hall meeting in the school gymnasium, our school’s having a week’s worth of events to celebrate our school spirit! Make sure to focus on your grades if you want access to the after-game school dance on Friday and get your tickets to Friday’s game and dance!” 

“It’s the week of school spirits and excess good-time fun,” Rhea harrumphed as she, Shandi, Andretta, Andelle, and I met up at our lockers. “If not for this year-long senior project, I’d be glad to stay home and thrash to some KISS or Linkin Park on Friday night. But I think that I might have a fair shake at being crowned queen.”

“Any of us could be crowned Homecoming monarchs, Rhea,” Shandra stated as she shot a brief glance. “Some more than others, given the current circumstances.”

“Well, my main worry is how everyone will be jockeying me to choose whom I’ll be official with- Jorge or Enrique,” I remarked as I unlocked my locker and got what I needed for the morning. “Add in Greenlee and her gang as well my family and the guys’ families, and I have a real party on my hands.”

“But the other option is to fail senior year and possibly repeat the grade,” Andretta remarked. “Mama and Daddy say that Uncle Julius has been acting strange lately and Aunt Mary Ella’s been miffed at him as I don’t know what.” 

“You guys don’t think that he’ll be working with Greenlee in wanting me to be with Enrique so she can have Jorge to herself, do you?” I asked. 

“Damned if I know, but we gotta keep our eyes sharp and our ears to the ground,” Andelle stated. To me, “And you have to focus on these midterms and Jorge and Enrique courting you so everyone will get off your back.”

“Really, loser? I think that’s not fair for O’Hara to hog all the guys,” came the delightfully drawling voice of Greenlee as she, Jeannine, and Kendall sauntered over with matching smug sneers on their faces. “And besides, everyone who’s anyone knows that Skylar has to be with Enrique. That, and at least drop out of the race for the Homecoming crown.”

I vainly fought the urge to roll my eyes. “You’d know that I can’t bow out,” I shot back. “Everyone who’s been announced as finalists for the Homecoming court need to have a fair shot like you do.”

“Is that right?” Jeannine said sarcastically. “Come on, O’Hara. If you really have the proper school spirit, you’d do Greenlee a solid and drop out right now. Not just out of the competition, but from the school completely. You may be on the diving team and all that, but you really have no place here. Not as long as Jorge is making googly eyes over you when he should be doing so over Greenlee.”

“Lord Jesus, do you have a muzzle that your parents need to use on you?” Andretta spat. “Bitch, you come for my cousin and I’ll come for you and your lady mistress too! Same thing goes for your friend here. And Skylar here is destined to win the crown.”

Just as Kendall was getting ready to crack her knuckles, the bell rang that signaled for everyone to head to homeroom. “To be continued,” Greenlee said threateningly as she motioned for her friends to follow her. 

I sighed as we got ready to do the same. “Batten down the hatches, girls, because a storm is coming to Texas by the name of Greenlee Simmons,” I intoned. “And whether or not I’m prepared, I gotta get through this long week.”

And that was the truth…

You’ll never forget the first time! ” Catch up with “Edge of Seventeen,” available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview

“Good morning, Centennial Grove High! It’s not only midterms week, but it’s also Homecoming week as our Grizzlies get prepped to take on Merck-Barnes High School’s Red Devils,” the cheerful voice of the school secretary chirped as everyone was filing through the halls. “And beginning with tonight’s town-hall meeting in the school gymnasium, our school’s having a week’s worth of events to celebrate our school spirit! Make sure to focus on your grades if you want access to the after-game school dance on Friday and get your tickets to Friday’s game and dance!” 

“It’s the week of school spirits and excess good-time fun,” Rhea harrumphed as she, Shandi, Andretta, Andelle, and I met up at our lockers. “If not for this year-long senior project, I’d be glad to stay home and thrash to some KISS or Linkin Park on Friday night. But I think that I might have a fair shake at being crowned queen.”

“Any of us could be crowned Homecoming monarchs, Rhea,” Shandra stated as she shot a brief glance. “Some more than others, given the current circumstances.”

“Well, my main worry is how everyone will be jockeying me to choose whom I’ll be official with- Jorge or Enrique,” I remarked as I unlocked my locker and got what I needed for the morning. “Add in Greenlee and her gang as well my family and the guys’ families, and I have a real party on my hands.”

“But the other option is to fail senior year and possibly repeat the grade,” Andretta remarked. “Mama and Daddy say that Uncle Julius has been acting strange lately and Aunt Mary Ella’s been miffed at him as I don’t know what.” 

“You guys don’t think that he’ll be working with Greenlee in wanting me to be with Enrique so she can have Jorge to herself, do you?” I asked. 

“Damned if I know, but we gotta keep our eyes sharp and our ears to the ground,” Andelle stated. To me, “And you have to focus on these midterms and Jorge and Enrique courting you so everyone will get off your back.”

“Really, loser? I think that’s not fair for O’Hara to hog all the guys,” came the delightfully drawling voice of Greenlee as she, Jeannine, and Kendall sauntered over with matching smug sneers on their faces. “And besides, everyone who’s anyone knows that Skylar has to be with Enrique. That, and at least drop out of the race for the Homecoming crown.”

I vainly fought the urge to roll my eyes. “You’d know that I can’t bow out,” I shot back. “Everyone who’s been announced as finalists for the Homecoming court need to have a fair shot like you do.”

“Is that right?” Jeannine said sarcastically. “Come on, O’Hara. If you really have the proper school spirit, you’d do Greenlee a solid and drop out right now. Not just out of the competition, but from the school completely. You may be on the diving team and all that, but you really have no place here. Not as long as Jorge is making googly eyes over you when he should be doing so over Greenlee.”

“Lord Jesus, do you have a muzzle that your parents need to use on you?” Andretta spat. “Bitch, you come for my cousin and I’ll come for you and your lady mistress too! Same thing goes for your friend here. And Skylar here is destined to win the crown.”

Just as Kendall was getting ready to crack her knuckles, the bell rang that signaled for everyone to head to homeroom. “To be continued,” Greenlee said threateningly as she motioned for her friends to follow her. 

I sighed as we got ready to do the same. “Batten down the hatches, girls, because a storm is coming to Texas by the name of Greenlee Simmons,” I intoned. “And whether or not I’m prepared, I gotta get through this long week.”

And that was the truth…

You’ll never forget the first time! ” Catch up with “Edge of Seventeen,” available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it! 

“Ry’Mir’s Dive” Final Full-Length Chapter Preview

As the Devil of the Pool, it’s my duty to sort out who’s worthy of being part of the swimming and diving teams…and the ones who are too tainted for the pool.

The latter’s mainly for the ones who are not the typical breed of being the American athlete of color: the homosexuals, the retards, the ones who are from the gutter, the scholarship kids- you know, those whom my parents have taught me to shun altogether

And when I joined this team, I was already disgusted that Langley supported everyone and anyone from that spectrum as long as they were putting in the work. So from my freshman year to today, I made sure that the football team would scare off any newcomers or persuade them to be part of the Gridiron gang or the cheerleading teams.

And despite being on the swim team, Battle and his two cronies- especially Parrish- knew that I could be trusted to keep their misdeeds out of the spotlight as long as I could exploit or ruin anyone unless they played ball with me and them.

Then came Ry’Mir Odoms from Missouri.

I course I knew all about him and what happened to him regarding Costello. That little brat put my uncle behind bars and my family was devastated. I initially hoped he was going to be wise enough to save face and leave the team and Harvick University all together. But once he started showing his balls, I knew that he had to go. And the football and cheerleading teams know it too. That’s why they’re all for what needs to be done: exposing his ass as the disgusting future pedophile that he and his friends are so all of them would be rightfully removed and I get what I deserved.

And if all else fails, Ke’Vante and his crew could easily put him and his Italian twink of a boyfriend out of their miseries for good.

Now that he refuses to quit, there’s nothing stopping me from enacting my revenge for my uncle Winston Costello. And I would make sure that the family name would be restored while no one would know who I am.

They think that they know me, but they have no idea.

And I’m still pissed off at Lancaster and his gang for standing up for him. Those Denzels and Vogues too! If they get in my way, all of Harvick University will be covered in their blood.

When the meet against Howard begins, there’s no going back! Bring it on, boys and girls, because the Devil’s got his pitchfork sharpened to perfection!

This Friday and Saturday, the final 4 chapters of “Ry’Mir’s Dive” drops and we’ll know the identity of the Devil of the Pool and see how it all ends! You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!

“Ry’Mir’s Dive” Final Full-Length Chapter Preview

As the Devil of the Pool, it’s my duty to sort out who’s worthy of being part of the swimming and diving teams…and the ones who are too tainted for the pool.

The latter’s mainly for the ones who are not the typical breed of being the American athlete of color: the homosexuals, the retards, the ones who are from the gutter, the scholarship kids- you know, those whom my parents have taught me to shun altogether

And when I joined this team, I was already disgusted that Langley supported everyone and anyone from that spectrum as long as they were putting in the work. So from my freshman year to today, I made sure that the football team would scare off any newcomers or persuade them to be part of the Gridiron gang or the cheerleading teams.

And despite being on the swim team, Battle and his two cronies- especially Parrish- knew that I could be trusted to keep their misdeeds out of the spotlight as long as I could exploit or ruin anyone unless they played ball with me and them.

Then came Ry’Mir Odoms from Missouri.

I course I knew all about him and what happened to him regarding Costello. That little brat put my uncle behind bars and my family was devastated. I initially hoped he was going to be wise enough to save face and leave the team and Harvick University all together. But once he started showing his balls, I knew that he had to go. And the football and cheerleading teams know it too. That’s why they’re all for what needs to be done: exposing his ass as the disgusting future pedophile that he and his friends are so all of them would be rightfully removed and I get what I deserved.

And if all else fails, Ke’Vante and his crew could easily put him and his Italian twink of a boyfriend out of their miseries for good.

Now that he refuses to quit, there’s nothing stopping me from enacting my revenge for my uncle Winston Costello. And I would make sure that the family name would be restored while no one would know who I am.

They think that they know me, but they have no idea.

And I’m still pissed off at Lancaster and his gang for standing up for him. Those Denzels and Vogues too! If they get in my way, all of Harvick University will be covered in their blood.

When the meet against Howard begins, there’s no going back! Bring it on, boys and girls, because the Devil’s got his pitchfork sharpened to perfection!

This Friday and Saturday, the final 4 chapters of “Ry’Mir’s Dive” drops and we’ll know the identity of the Devil of the Pool and see how it all ends! You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!

“Ry’Mir’s Dive” Final Full-Length Chapter Preview

As the Devil of the Pool, it’s my duty to sort out who’s worthy of being part of the swimming and diving teams…and the ones who are too tainted for the pool.

The latter’s mainly for the ones who are not the typical breed of being the American athlete of color: the homosexuals, the retards, the ones who are from the gutter, the scholarship kids- you know, those whom my parents have taught me to shun altogether

And when I joined this team, I was already disgusted that Langley supported everyone and anyone from that spectrum as long as they were putting in the work. So from my freshman year to today, I made sure that the football team would scare off any newcomers or persuade them to be part of the Gridiron gang or the cheerleading teams.

And despite being on the swim team, Battle and his two cronies- especially Parrish- knew that I could be trusted to keep their misdeeds out of the spotlight as long as I could exploit or ruin anyone unless they played ball with me and them.

Then came Ry’Mir Odoms from Missouri.

I course I knew all about him and what happened to him regarding Costello. That little brat put my uncle behind bars and my family was devastated. I initially hoped he was going to be wise enough to save face and leave the team and Harvick University all together. But once he started showing his balls, I knew that he had to go. And the football and cheerleading teams know it too. That’s why they’re all for what needs to be done: exposing his ass as the disgusting future pedophile that he and his friends are so all of them would be rightfully removed and I get what I deserved.

And if all else fails, Ke’Vante and his crew could easily put him and his Italian twink of a boyfriend out of their miseries for good.

Now that he refuses to quit, there’s nothing stopping me from enacting my revenge for my uncle Winston Costello. And I would make sure that the family name would be restored while no one would know who I am.

They think that they know me, but they have no idea.

And I’m still pissed off at Lancaster and his gang for standing up for him. Those Denzels and Vogues too! If they get in my way, all of Harvick University will be covered in their blood.

When the meet against Howard begins, there’s no going back! Bring it on, boys and girls, because the Devil’s got his pitchfork sharpened to perfection!

This Friday and Saturday, the final 4 chapters of “Ry’Mir’s Dive” drops and we’ll know the identity of the Devil of the Pool and see how it all ends! You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!

“Ry’Mir’s Dive” Final Full-Length Chapter Preview

As the Devil of the Pool, it’s my duty to sort out who’s worthy of being part of the swimming and diving teams…and the ones who are too tainted for the pool.

The latter’s mainly for the ones who are not the typical breed of being the American athlete of color: the homosexuals, the retards, the ones who are from the gutter, the scholarship kids- you know, those whom my parents have taught me to shun altogether

And when I joined this team, I was already disgusted that Langley supported everyone and anyone from that spectrum as long as they were putting in the work. So from my freshman year to today, I made sure that the football team would scare off any newcomers or persuade them to be part of the Gridiron gang or the cheerleading teams.

And despite being on the swim team, Battle and his two cronies- especially Parrish- knew that I could be trusted to keep their misdeeds out of the spotlight as long as I could exploit or ruin anyone unless they played ball with me and them.

Then came Ry’Mir Odoms from Missouri.

I course I knew all about him and what happened to him regarding Costello. That little brat put my uncle behind bars and my family was devastated. I initially hoped he was going to be wise enough to save face and leave the team and Harvick University all together. But once he started showing his balls, I knew that he had to go. And the football and cheerleading teams know it too. That’s why they’re all for what needs to be done: exposing his ass as the disgusting future pedophile that he and his friends are so all of them would be rightfully removed and I get what I deserved.

And if all else fails, Ke’Vante and his crew could easily put him and his Italian twink of a boyfriend out of their miseries for good.

Now that he refuses to quit, there’s nothing stopping me from enacting my revenge for my uncle Winston Costello. And I would make sure that the family name would be restored while no one would know who I am.

They think that they know me, but they have no idea.

And I’m still pissed off at Lancaster and his gang for standing up for him. Those Denzels and Vogues too! If they get in my way, all of Harvick University will be covered in their blood.

When the meet against Howard begins, there’s no going back! Bring it on, boys and girls, because the Devil’s got his pitchfork sharpened to perfection!

This Friday and Saturday, the final 4 chapters of “Ry’Mir’s Dive” drops and we’ll know the identity of the Devil of the Pool and see how it all ends! You’ll never forget the first time! Available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!