#full-length-chapter-preview — Public Fediverse posts

“I, Ian” Full-Length Chapter Preview

Knock-knock. 

“Who’s there?” Ian said, jumping out of his inner thoughts as he was finished changing into some sleepwear and fresh from the shower. 

The door swung open to reveal Patrick with a backpack and a small bag of groceries. “Sleepover?” he asked gently. 

Ian smiled wanly, his mind flashing back to the days when he and Patrick had their usual sleepovers pre-curse when they were in high school and their former friends were around. “Sleepover,” he affirmed. “What brings you by?” 

Patrick sighed heavily as he came into the room. “It’s been a week since we went from dangerous dames with chips on our shoulders to petulant gay men who can’t be transformed back thanks to one coffee-making voodoo prince. And even though we have Tremaine MacLaren to teach us what it’s like on the other side, I can’t help but feel disoriented about being…” 

He gestured to his body. “Well, you get the gist.” 

Ian nodded as he went to the closet to grab a rolled-up sleeping bag and a blanket. “That I understand,” he answered. “It still feels so surreal yet it’s so realistic at the same time. I’m just wondering what will happen next for myself since I have a lot of hurdles to climb. I mean, I gave a lot of hell to a lot of guys when I was just Ivy, even towards the girls’ male relatives and male friends. Even more so when it came to Mom’s male clients and her male co-workers.”

There was a slight pause for a brief moment as Ian laid down the blanket and sleeping bag on the floor before the two young men sat down. “I guess you and I are going to have to make the most of this new chapter of our lives,” Patrick said as he set out bags of chips, two soda bottles, and some snack cakes, Ian making a phone call for some pizza delivery. “The one thing that is going to terrify me the most is what’ll happen when our former haters turn on us when they learn who we are and what happened to us.”

“Don’t remind me,” Ian replied, groaning at the thought of his former allies that he had on Instagram before it was closed thanks to Antoine. “They’re going to want to know ‘what happened to Ivy and her propaganda.’ When they get wind of what Antoine did and who we are now, the shit is going to hit the fan. Part of me is mad at him for taking away my social media status and profiles that had me on the top. Then again, I was on the verge of losing everything and I lost the followers who have families who are either identifying as LGBTQ or men in general, if not both.”

Patrick nodded, taking a sip of soda. “I get that,” he remarked. “And I guess you can say that my former social media pages are now nonexistent since I got hit with the curse. And maybe it’s for the best that we lie low until we get fully used to the new normal that we’re living now.”

The bedroom door swung open to reveal Joseph. “Gentlemen, I see that you’re renewing your Friday night sleepover,” he stated as he distributed the two boxes of pizza. “Any plans for this particular sleepover?”

“Mainly talking about learning to get used to this new life as gay men,” Ian replied. “And maybe have a little fun as well. Who knows what the night may bring?”

Joseph nodded. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” he said. “Tomorrow, you’re getting registered at Santa Monica College and you still have your shifts at the smoothie place, so make sure to get a good night’s sleep.”

“Okay, Dad. You have a good night yourself.” 

Joseph closed the door. 

Patrick sighed as he opened one of the pizza boxes that had meat lovers. “I wonder what Tremaine will have in store for us when we start school as totally new students. Since we’re basically going to be starting over with people wondering who we are, we’re definitely going to have to be careful with what we say or do.” 

“Well, I think it’s best to show them that we won’t be intimidated and we’re going to still own our grace and swagger,” Ian replied as he helped himself to a slice of pepperoni pizza. “Maybe Antoine will allow us some grace to let everyone know that we’re going to have that glow and style.” 

Patrick frowned. “Maybe it’ll be best to dial that down because that voodoo prince will have eyes everywhere,” he said warily. “And since he magically bound us to his cousin’s rules, you know that the curse will multiply if we step out of line and act like assholes.”

“Point made.”

The evening went on as Ian and Patrick talked about the days before being cursed, listened to their favorite songs on Spotify, and even watched an old movie on TV. And then…

“You know something? I always wanted to know what it’d be like to hook up with a gay guy when I was Pilar,” Patrick said from out of nowhere. “I mean, I’ve heard of stories regarding women having one-night stands with gay and bisexual guys when they’re totally wasted.”

Ian frowned. “I didn’t because I was still spiteful and hating guys in general,” he replied. “I thought it was tasteless and stupid.”

“What about now?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Patrick sat up, facing his friend. “I mean, what do you think about hooking up with gay guys now that you’re a gay guy yourself?” he asked. 

Ian blinked twice, his face warped in confusion briefly. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I mean, I’m still getting used to being a gay man myself and-” 

“Come on, bro. You know you that you want to at least try something a little reckless and even sensual at once,” Patrick interrupted. “Maybe it’s best that we…well, try something that we’d never considered doing when we were females.”

And without warning, Patrick’s lips branded Ian’s in a kiss.

You’ll never forget he first time! Magic, sensuality, and a transformative journey like none other! “I, Ian” returns with new chapters and plenty of drama and excitement! 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!

“The Passion of Sean Gillain” Full-Length Chapter Preview

Sure enough, I was sitting at a table with Caeleb and Tim at Macy’s Cyber-Cafe (one of the many on-campus coffeehouses that the students of RISD liked to frequent). After placing our orders, it was Caeleb himself who started things off. “Sean, Tim and I never really understood how rough you had it with being the middle child in a family of successful influencers,” he began. “But once we got dressed down by Alyssia and Liam who gave us the whole story, I personally wanted to know how you managed to stay strong with all of this going on.” 

I nodded, inhaling sharply. “Well, you can pretty much say that being under the harsh criticism of Horace and Reva Gillain as they both expected nothing but pure perfection I had plenty of time to tell myself not to care,” I remarked. “But I was under the care of my maternal grandparents and grew up on the farm back in Adams Falls, Georgia. Mom said that she never liked living in a town that never got down with the times and where there’s nothing else to do, so she saw it fitting to make sure that none of her children got to be in the same position.”

“But when it came to you,” Tim began. 

“It was easy for me to adapt to the rural life because my parents pushed me into my grandparents care,” I finished. And so began one hour of me letting out my life and times as the “Gillain family oddball,” not leaving anything out as I talked about how I saw passion as originally for the reckless and me putting away my innocence after the non-birthday dinner, vowing to help out my grandparents with the farm, the boycott after Ra’Keem and the others humiliating me at the celebratory dinner in his honor, and everything that led me to coming to Newport. “In a way, you two, I guess you can say that I’m still trying to figure out my place with the changes of life.”

Tim nodded. “Let me ask you this, Sean. Had it not been for your parents and older siblings wanting to control your plans for the Fashion Showcase, would you have entered?” he wanted to know. 

I closed my eyes briefly before facing the blonde. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have,” I stated. “Then again, I might have because Mom thought that I had talent with my designs when she submitted my sketches that I did back in middle school as part of my application portfolio. Who can say? I mean, I know that Jessica has her impossibly high standards and would’ve been ashamed of me if I had shown ‘anything shoddy and embarrassing to the family image,’ as she would like to say. Her twin brother Ra’Keem and our father- the biggest thorn in my side- would agree.”

“But you have talent as you said,” Caeleb pointed out. 

“Wouldn’t have made a difference. When it comes to the Gillain name, how one presents oneself is everything. And in my parents eyes as well as Ra’Keem and Jessica’s, I was basically the epitome of everything that they were against.”

“Damn,” Tim hissed, shaking his head. “That’s rough.”

I shrugged my shoulders as our fare arrived. “It is what it is. I’ve been the disappointment in my father’s eyes for as long as I can remember. So why should anything be different?”

Before anyone could reply, my phone rang with an unfamiliar number flashing on my screen. “Who’s calling you?” Tim asked. 

“Damned if I want to know, and double-damned if I don’t. All the better to just get this out of the way now,” I muttered as I pressed ANSWER. “Hello?”

A pause. Then, “Sean? It’s Monica, your younger twin sister,” the voice of the person in question replied. 

I inhaled sharply, pantomiming for Caeleb and Tim to be silent as I placed it on speaker. “Okay, Monica? What’s up?”

“Look, I got your new phone number from Uncle Jace because I really need to talk to you,” Monica stated. “And I just want you to listen, okay? Jamal and I have heard all about what’s been going on between you and the others- Mom, Dad, Jessica, and Ra’Keem. How you’re not entering the end-of-semester showcase because they want total control of your designs and all. And personally? I think you’re doing what’s right for you. You shouldn’t have to do anything that they want for their benefits or design something that’s based on their impossibly high standards.” 

I hummed. “What does Jamal think?” 

Monica snorted. “He’s fallen into the same trap that Ra’Keem and Dad’s been feeding him, that you’re not caring about the family name and that you’re too good for anyone who’s not like Grandma or Grandpa. Hell, Jamal’s becoming more and more of a prick by hanging out with the wrong crowd.”

“Damn, Monica. And what about you?”

I heard her sigh. “I’m just keeping out of this until the time is right to break out on my own. But Grandma and Grandpa told me that they’d take me in if things got too bad or I end up losing Mom and Dad’s favor,” she answered. “Probably for the best since Jessica’s been haranguing me about my weight and my looks. She’s putting me on these crash diets while Mom’s been all drill-sergeant on me about my grades. It’s a nightmare, Sean. And I thank God that you’ve been raised differently from everyone else. But I gotta warn you that Mom and Dad won’t let you slide on not entering the showcase. I don’t know what they’re planning, but it’s not going to be good. All I can tell you is that you at least have one more ally on your side.”

My heart ached for my younger sister. “Thanks, Monica, for letting me know,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Look, you play your role perfectly and plan for your own exodus from the Gillain circus. If possible, take up Grandma and Grandpa’s offer. And do me a favor?”

“Fire away.”

“Keep your eyes peeled for anything suspicious that our parents, Jamal, Ra’Keem, and even Jessica could be planning. One or all of them are on the same ‘Let’s-all-hate-Sean-for-being-different’ parade, and there’s no telling what can happen next. So play your part and do what’s been told. But if it becomes too much, call Grandma Evaline at once.” 

“I will, Sean. I love you. Don’t forget that.”

The line disconnected.

And as Caeleb and Tim came to my side while the tears that threatened to fall began cascading down my cheeks, I could only hope and pray that my sister would find the strength to become her own person. 

You’ll never forget the first time! “The Passion of Sean Gillain” is back with new chapters, 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” Sneak Preview and the Next Book of the Series

Dr. Tucker’s office, the following day…

Sure enough, my usual teammates (Dioncel, Tre’Von, and Andre), Coach Langley, Chi’Anna & Ra’Nada (representing the Vogues with the former’s dad also in tow), Enrique (representing the Denzels),and I were in the good therapist’s office. Colton was also there with me, knowing that the final stage of this confessional was going to be mandatory if I was to not only gain closure with my past but also prepare me with the football and cheerleading teams, Dean DeGrawue, and “The Devil of the Pool.”

And despite the waves of nerves threatening to crash me out, I had to see this through to the end.

“Ry’Mir, last night was a long night for you and Colton,” Dr. Tucker stated after a bit of small talk. “It wasn’t easy for you boys to go beyond your comfort zone despite the consequences if you didn’t attend those gridiron boys’ party. How are you feeling at the moment?”

I inhaled deeply. “Honestly? I’m a mixed bag of emotions,” I admitted. “Mad because I was far from prepared despite all that we could do. Scared because ‘The Devil of the Pool’ could be watching and listening in on this without warning. And yet, I’m also feeling tired of having to run away from the past and ready because I want to be able to control my story from my point of view without being threatened with exiled or seen in a bad way. I just want this over and done, you know?”

“Including this session about Costello?” Tre’Von asked.

“Especially that.”

Dr. Tucker went into therapist mode as she grabbed her notes and pen. “Then let’s get started,” she said. “The days leading up to the eventual arrest of Costello, how was your mindset and headspace?”

With a nod from Coach, I dove right in. “Me having to play the games of survival with a man who can ruin your reputation if you didn’t warm his bed was like…it was like I was diving into the deeper parts of an inactive volcano,” I began. “I didn’t want to let him taint my body any more than he already had, but I also didn’t want to be sent to one of the state-run group run homes where kids like me were either beaten or left for themselves. So, I had to play the role of his young lover, let him take me into his pool house after coaching me on my diving techniques or when I had a meet for my school’s team or that in the YMCA.”

“Did your foster parents have any clue on what was going on?” Coach asked gently.

“If they did, I didn’t notice anything and I was wise enough to not let it show how I was hurting when I sat down. The man meant every word- if I didn’t comply or thought about telling Joel or Lois, he’d spin it to make them think that I came on to him and send me away without a fair chance,” I answered. “But on that fateful day, you can pretty much guess that things were about to go down south. Not for me, but for him…”

*********

FLASHBACK (The Day of Reckoning)…

The good news was that Joel and Lois had themselves an off day from their restaurant, allowing themselves time to step back and let loose.

The bad news was that they decided to go to the movies while believing that I needed someone to look after me while they were gone. And that someone, which was the worst news, was Costello because Joel thought that he could use some time away from his home and more time in theirs. “Plus, we know that he’s protective of you and says that you give him no trouble at all,” Lois said as she and her husband were on their way out the door. “So make sure to mind him and give him your undivided attention, Ry’Mir.”

As if I had any choice.

Soon after I came from a relaxing shower after a grueling workout session and a swim at the YMCA, the man was at the door with his shirt removed and his eyes were full of lust. “Such a pretty boy for me,” he said as he climbed on top of my naked body and started kissing my stomach and chest. “My, Lois and Joel are lucky enough to have you in their home.”

“Please stop,” I whimpered. “I’ll tell if you-“

“If you do open your mouth, no one’s going to believe you since you’ll be seen as a jealous liar and a little boy-slut,” he hissed in a seductive yet threatening manner. “You don’t want to make them mad at you, do you?”

I shook my head no, knowing that he was right. If I even dared to tell anyone about him grooming and molesting me, he’d paint me as the bad guy while he would get away with everything.

“Then you’ll play ball with me and I’ll make sure that you’ll be rewarded for your silence,” he said as he reached into his discarded jeans and grabbed some condoms. “Not only that, I’ll make sure that you’ll remember me as your first time. And I can be very generous to little pretty boys like you.“

All I could do was steel my tears from falling down my face as I let him place my legs on his shoulders before sheathing himself with the condom.

“Make this go away, God,” I thought to myself as he entered himself into me. “Let this nightmare end because I-“

“Oh, my Lord! Ry’Mir!”

My stomach dropped low to see a stunned Lois and her furious husband at the doorway, the latter ready to punch his friend in the nose. Only the man didn’t bother slowing down his pace as he ravished me. “J-Joel. Lois,” I whimpered.

It all happened so fast. One moment, Costello was continuously enjoying himself while I had to take it. The next moment, the man was thrown off of me while Lois wrapped me in a towel before sirens filled the air outside. “He liked it, you know?! Your little boy-slut was asking for it,” the disgraced man sneered as he was led away in handcuffs, Joel fighting the urge to knock the man out again as onlookers took in the sight outside.

“Ry’Mir, how long did he take advantage of you like this?” Lois asked while officers were by her side in the living room. “I’m not mad at you, honey. I need to know the truth.”

It was time to come clean as I finally let the waterworks go into overdrive and I told them everything. “I’m so sorry,” I bawled as I was wrapped in a hug. “Please don’t send me away. I had to keep quiet because he could paint me as the bad guy.”

“Son, you have nothing to be sorry for,” one female officer said gently. “We had him on our radar for a while, and your testimony will ensure that he gets what he deserves.”

“I agreed,” Joel grunted as his glare softened when he faced me. “Ry’Mir, I am so sorry I trusted that shithead into your care. If I had known, I would’ve gladly ended him sooner. The worst fact is that Lois and I were blind to the whole thing and the man had his sadistic thrill with other boys before you. So you’ve saved your life as well as those other boys.”

I only let the tears fall as I was gradually led into a whirlwind of testimonies at trials, days spent in solitude thinking, and even a period where I had to take basic therapy sessions with other survivors of child/teen molestation. But the moment the man was convicted and sent to prison, I made a vow: I wanted to bury the past and only move forward by focusing on my diving competitions and academics.

It was time for me to go forward, but in my own way…

***********

PRESENT-DAY

I inhaled deeply, not caring if the tears were cascading from my eyes as I knew everyone else was doing the same. “Some days were better than others,” I finished. “And before coming here, I had a few nightmares that left me sleepless at times for days. But I had to push all my feelings down and lock them away if I wanted to keep my eyes forward.”

“My God, Ry’Mir,” Ra’Nada said, stifling a sob as she accepted a tissue from a stone-faced Andre. “This whole story is…wow.”

“But now, we gotta deal with these people who seem to know about Ry’Mir’s story and are planning to expose him at the next meet,” Dioncel stated, crossing his arms. “And that’s today as we’re facing off against Howard.”

To me, “I hate to suggest this, bro, but you need to sit that meet out for your safety. These football trolls and cheerleaders aren’t playing around, and neither is Dean DeGrawue.”

“Well, the meet’s postponed for today since they had a lockdown scare,” Coach Langley stated. “But they’re going to meet with us the week after next. And I disagree, Dioncel. Ry’Mir said that he wants to tell this story for himself and keep control of the matter by his own terms.”

“But what happens if Ry’Mir gets jumped?” Andre asked. “Or worse? And we still have no idea on who this ‘Devil of the Pool’ is. Incredible!”

“Then that’s the chance I’ll have to make,” I stated. To my coach, “Can you get me that appointment with the school’s president?”

“Already done,” Enrique interjected. “He actually wants to see you for some reason, Ry’Mir. And I warned him that if he turns on you just because of your past, he’ll be answering to me and all the Denzels and Vogues.”

“That goes double for me,” Dr. Tucker said. “And yes, he knows about these therapy settings with you, Tre’Von, Dioncel, and Andre. And I told him that things are getting serious with your situation. So he’ll want to talk to you over tea. When is it?”

“Tomorrow. His private quarters, which isn’t far from the natatorium. You’ll be there after practice tomorrow.”

I nodded. “I don’t know how things will go after tomorrow, you guys, but I’m done running away from the storm. This time, I’m going to go into it.”

And that was the truth.

You’ll never forget the first time! We’re approaching the final ten chapters of ” Ry’Mir’s Dive (book one of “The Aqua Men of Harvick University” series),” available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! This marks the start of the grand-finale extravaganza. Don’t miss it! 

And Coming January 2027… Dioncel’s Story is Told! “Dioncel’s Winter” is Book Two of the Series.

“The Passion of Sean Gillain” Full-length Chapter Preview

We’ve been hearing about you spurning Caeleb and Tim again, Sean.”

That was the topic of the dinner table as Uncle Jace brought up the matter after everyone sat down to eat (guest-starring the Merriweather aunt/niece duo). And needless to say, neither of my uncles or even their kids were happy to hear about my second encounter with the athletic jocks.

“That I did,” I admitted as I helped myself to the stir-fry that Uncle Javi helped prepared. “And I know that you guys want me to warm up to them, but I just can’t.”

“You mean, you won’t, just like you won’t even warm up to your brother,” Trevor pointed out, giving me a dirty look. “Dude, everyone’s trying to gibe you the benefit of the doubt with your new life here in Newport. But it’s like you’re intending to be cold or indifferent to everyone who you meet.”

“You just don’t understand,” I began to protest.

“Then help us try to understand,” Alyssa interrupted. “Make us see why you can’t give this new change of scenery a try or at least care more to try something new, never mind being friendly towards mine and Trevor’s friends.”

I sighed, unsure on how to answer that.

“That’s what we all thought,” Steffy stated. “Sean, you know the contract that you signed back in Macon is non-negotiable and it was supposed to help you be better than what you were when you were laid up in the hospital: emotionally unbalanced and mentally exhausted. And it was a better offer than you being with your older siblings or your parents.”

“Exactly,” Uncle Javi said as he motioned for everyone (except me) to resume eating. “And unless you want Jace and I to call up Dr. Patel and your parents as well as your grandparents to let them know that you’re not being fair, you need to do right and put your best efforts into this time here. It doesn’t have to be even big moments. Start small.”

I knew he was right. If everyone back in Georgia got wind of my time here so far and how I wasn’t playing ball, then it would give Daddy Dearest and his brood all the ammunition to get me back into their realm and be surrounded by them. And Lord knows, I do NOT want that to happen. “Fine,” I relented, “but I’m still going to avoid those two jocks.”

“Sean,” Uncle Jace said in warning.

“No, Uncle Jace. If I have to fall in line with this contract, I at least get to have one freedom and that includes steering clear of Trevor and Alyssia’s friends. They may mean well, but…”

I shook my head no, not wanting to finish that sentence and unleash the dark secrets of that particular Pandora’s box.

But Uncle Jace saw otherwise. “Do they remind you of your brother Ra’Keem?”

Damn that man. “More than you know, Uncle Jace. I know the truth about jocks built like tanks and have that swagger that turns people on and off: they may talk a good game and act friendly, but the moment they start showing their dark sides things go downhill. And I’m not taking that chance.”

Alyssia sat down her fork. “Did Ra’Keem or his buddies say or did something to you?” she asked.

“You guys remember when Ra’Keem got drafted to the NFL after graduating from UGA, right? And how Mom and Dad wanted to show him off with some fancy dinner?”

“I remember that day,” Uncle Javi stated. “Eveline and Emmett said that your parents had wanted you there at their place. And you were in tenth grade that day. What exactly happened that day?”

**********

Flashback (The Dinner Party from Hell)…

“Sean, I understand that you’re into some ‘farming club’ that you’re part of,” one of Jessica’s fashion-influencer friends said as we sat down to the catered dinner with me seated in between my older sister and the “man of the hour” himself (as ordered by our parents- mainly Dad). The mandatory celebratory dinner party was mainly for the family (Grandma and Grandpa included), but my siblings were permitted to bring their schoolmates and their families while Mom had some of her friends as did Dad. And while everyone was dressed to impress, I was content on my pastel-colored Sunday best from JCPenney.

“It’s the FFA,” I corrected. “And I’ve been showcasing a few of the cattle and doing public speaking for a couple of competitions,” I replied.

“Showing cattle and speeches are well and fine, but you must admit that you need to branch out and make new friends,” Dad said, his surgical and caustic way of tearing people’s self-esteem apparent in the way he spoke to me or about me. “You should think about playing for football at your school or some other sport. Maybe Ra’Keem could take you under his wing for a summer training session.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be busy with the general store,” I answered.

“Sean, think about the offer and how your presenting yourself as a family,” Mom said, her snake-charmer purr on full speed. “Jamal’s already catching the eye of the basketball coach from Central High and he’s only in the fifth grade. While Monica’s been working with me for a few photoshoots and learning a lot from Jessica. You need to start letting go of being on the farm all the time and stop thinking small.”

“And besides, no real teen worth his salt really wants to stay in a little town like Adams Falls,” one of Ra’Keem’s friends sneered at me. “Look at you, you’re dressing like my tired-as-fuck granddaddy. Thank God he’s in the nursing home.”

“Probably because Grandma Evaline still fetches his clothes for him, dressing him up like a kid,” Jessica snickered. “Bet he gets no play from the kids at his school. Then again, everyone back in Twiggs County dresses up for church all the time.”

That was enough for my grandparents, Grandpa standing to his feet and whirling on his son-in-law. “Are you really permitting this?” he asked hotly.

Dad just shrugged as he cut his steak. “Sean needs to cowboy up and be a real man if he wants to be ahead in the world,” he replied flippantly. “Sean brought it on himself for being a future farmer like you. Thank God that your daughter married a winner like me and we were blessed to have at least four winners.”

Grandma looked livid, facing her daughter. “Josaline, you can’t let him talk like that,” she seethed.

Mom looked unashamed. “It’s for Sean’s own good,” she commented, not looking sorry at all. To me, “You take in what’s been said, Sean, and be more like Ra’Keem and Jessica as well as Jamal and Monica.”

“Sean, we’re leaving,” Grandma stated. “And this is the VERY LAST time that we attend these kind of parties where you’re trashed while your siblings are treasured.”

I stood to my feet. “That sounds like a plan to me,” I stated.

“Sean, you need to stay here until dinner is finished,” Dad admonished me. “Or are you going to disappoint this family by being too much of a Holy Roller like your grandparents?”

It was my turn to have the last word. “I’ve been disappointing this family the moment you placed me in the care of my grandparents while you and Mom were too busy with Jamal and Monica,” I said. “Why should it change now? I won’t be back for any more events until you guys start showing me the same kind of love that you showed everyone else.”

Without another word, I followed my grandparents and we stormed out of the McMansion as the dinner went on without us…

**********

“Damn,” Trevor hissed, shaking his head. “We never really thought about how you must’ve felt with our relatives, your parents and siblings, dogging you to make themselves feel better.”

“That’s how it was even after that dinner party,” I stated. “People with that kind of swagger turn me off, hence me not wanting to speak to my family or even Caleb and Tim. I may be petty for it, but that’s how it is.”

“Sean, you have to admit that you need to at least try something to find healing for yourself and keep healthy,” Uncle Jace said. “All of this amniosity is not good for you and you know it. Now, you WILL apologize to Caeleb and Tim by the end of the week if you don’t want me to call Emmett and Evaline. And as for your mental health and your family, you need to see the therapist and talk to her about those feelings regarding your family.”

“Uncle Jace-“

“No buts, Sean. You either fall in line, or we’re sending you back to Georgia and you stay with your parents or even either Ra’Keem or Jessica so they can talk some sense into you,” Uncle Javi cut me off with a glare that softened. “We want to help you, but you gotta help yourself.”

I bit back a groan, knowing that this was non-negotiable. “Fine,” I relented. “But I’m not ready to talk to my family yet.”

“Fair enough,” Uncle Jace said before finally allowing me to eat. “But you need to tal to them sooner or later, you know.”

I prefer later, if I could be brutally honest. Like “when Hawaii is caught in a blizzard” kind of later. But I wasn’t going to say that out loud.

You’ll never forget the first time! “The Passion of Sean Gillain” is available to read EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad!

“The Guardian of Couture” Full-Length Chapter Preview: Chapter 12

Folks, I live by several usual maxims that my grandparents have taught me while they were alive. And in the chapters to come as I tell this story, I’ll be sharing them with you, starting with this one: “When you least expect it, expect it.” That has gotten me through my first four years in exile from Texas and also while in high school before.

And as Gio, Kumiko, River, and I took in the ballroom and how everything was decked out, I was living in that same maxim at the moment. Now, let me make a few things clear: I wasn’t surprised on how the way that the hotel’s large ballroom was decorated in the theme Heroic Figures in the similar styles of the Met Gala and the Academy Awards in all its grandeur finest with some of the designers showcasing various gowns and tuxedoes with subtle hints of superheroic glamour. And I wasn’t surprised on how all the celebrities, politicians, and social-media influencers who had been invited were dressed to the nines: Jimmy and Jey Uso in matching black Balmain tuxedoes while Jimmy’s wife Naomi was in an alluring old-Hollywood gown by Dior, George and Amal Clooney in matching Givenchy, the Trump family in various shades of monochromatics and reds by Michael Kors, Alicia Keys in a stunning red gown by Chanel, and more.

I wasn’t surprised by all of that.

No, folks. What took my breath away and put my soul on high alert was the general staffers- the same ones with athletic bodies whom were deemed very excitable and eager for newcomers like myself and my friends and how we were to stay away from them until tonight. And they weren’t in their monochromatic office-chic outfits.

And they weren’t wearing those retro-centric Coca-Cola glasses either.

No, sir. They were wearing superhero costumes, and not the ones you find in Halloween costume stores or the cheap knockoffs from Amazon.  Real, authentic costumes that were straight out of comic books. And these people were showing off their superpowers and grinning at us four interns with a mixture of teasing, condescension, and eagerness.

“Surprise, guys,” Jorge Ramirez (the Hispanic general editor) said as he approached us, his gold-and-red costume in a blend of leather and spandex giving me the vibes of a fiery humanoid phoenix coming to life. “You just stepped into a world of comic books and haute couture.”

“Damn right,” Veronica Seeley (in a superhero costume similar to Wanda “Scarlet Witch” Maximoff, but in a tight bodysuit in purples and blacks complete with a headdress covered in elegant crystals) drawled as she stalked towards me, giving me a cat-eating grin. “This isn’t a game anymore, boys. This is real life, one that you’re now a part of.”

“I’ll bet,” Gio breathed, smiling with his eyes full of awe as a female photographer from Time sent him a saucy wink as she literally skated past him, her body now a walking ice sculpture. “And you think you can handle everything under the sun.”

“I am loving this,” River remarked as he saw both Ian and Vincent (in matching retro-centric blue-and-white superhero suits complete with blue brief-like trunks and matching boots) circled around him like jaguars stalking around their prey. “If my spiteful parents could see me now.”

“Mine too,” Kumiko added, nodding at a fire-manipulating general editor from Elle who was happily chatting away with Barack and Michelle Obama (both of them in Tom Ford reds, the designer himself nodding along and sharing a laugh).

I nodded twice before turning to Ellen. “Now I get everything,” I said. “And I take that this is part of my internship?”

“All that and so much more, Alcide Lancaster-Monroe,” she replied as Francis and everyone else from her circle surrounded me. “All the general staffers here are superheroes and antiheroes, all of which you and your cohorts will need to be familiar with for this summer. But as for myself, the other editors-in-chief and senior staffers, and administrative workers at our magazines are completely normal as well as the custodians and cafeteria workers. But of course, some of the IT workers and security staffers are superheroes themselves, so you’ll be getting to know them as well.”

“And the celebrities?” Gio asked. “Are they-“

“One-hundred percent normal, but we do work with them when the time comes,” Beyonce stated, she and Blue Ivy looking like ethereal beauties in white Reem Acra gowns while Jay-Z was dapper in a mob-boss Zegna tuxedo. “And that means you’ll be working with us as well.”

“Oh, wow,” River breathed. “And the other interns who don’t know about this? Do they know-“

“No, and they’ll only remember what transpired before tonight since they never made it,” Ja’Nisha commented with her husband standing next to her. “And in the years prior, those who don’t accept this are given other memories of the night.”

“Altered memories?”

“Just a precaution for them to keep what they saw to themselves,” Francis answered. “As for you boys, there’s still time for you to reconsider and walk out while you can.”

“That won’t be happening,” Gio interjected as his editor-in-chief came towards him with another copy of what looked like the NDA. He glared everyone down. “You guys saw a lot of potential in us when we approached the interview stage before getting the job. And you know our stories. My family wants me to work for what I have and tell me to never back down from a challenge. And you should be familiar with River, Kumiko, and Alcide’s stories by now- families rejecting them unless they assimilate to their conservative and hate-mongering ideals while Alcide’s hometown refuses to accept him and will likely shoot him dead if even returns for a day. We’re too invested to go back to what we know by now. So, you’re going to have to get used to seeing us until the internship is over and we face the unknown together.”

I then faced Ellen. “You saw a lot in me when we first met, ma’am. And you said that you wanted me to understand how my late maternal and paternal grandparents were involved,” I said. “And I intend to find out everything and see this summer internship through to the end. All I ask is for the tea, the whole tea, and nothing but the tea.”

“So help you me?”

I whirled around to see the one and only RuPaul looking like a true Glamazon in a custom-made gold-and-silver gown by Zaldy (the designer himself in shades of gold) that hugged her frame like a glove. My friends gasped as I took the drag queen’s hand and shook it. “Exactly, Mother RuPaul,” I said. “Thank you for getting me through my high-school years and showing what it means to be unapologetic through your reality show.”

“No, child. Thank you for not backing down and letting haters try to steal your glow,” the drag queen commented. “The same goes for your friends. All of you are going to be bringing a lot to the table, and everyone will try to knock you down. But remember to live without fear or regrets.”

We all nodded as Jim Nelson from GQ came to us. “All right, you four interns, this night will be all about you,” he said. “Remember that you’re to get familiar with all the supers and antiheroes here. And you’re still on the clock even though this night is about you. Don’t be surprised if you’re to run an errand or two by the celebrities.”

My friends and I glanced at each other briefly. “Looking forward to it all,” we said in unison.

You’ll never forget the first time! “The Guardian of Couture” returns with new chapters, available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! Don’t miss it!