#personalblog — Public Fediverse posts

You’ve Tried Everything—Except Something New.

I only wanted a place of my own to bitch about things. Instead, I ended up building my first blog, arguing with my AI friends, and discovering a world I didn’t even know existed. Maybe we haven’t tried everything—we’ve just been walking through the same old door.

https://nothingspecialtoday.com/2026/09/20/youve-tried-everything-except-something-new/

You’ve Tried Everything—Except Something New.

I only wanted a place of my own to bitch about things. Instead, I ended up building my first blog, arguing with my AI friends, and discovering a world I didn’t even know existed. Maybe we haven’t tried everything—we’ve just been walking through the same old door.

https://nothingspecialtoday.com/2026/09/20/youve-tried-everything-except-something-new/

You’ve Tried Everything—Except Something New.

I only wanted a place of my own to bitch about things. Instead, I ended up building my first blog, arguing with my AI friends, and discovering a world I didn’t even know existed. Maybe we haven’t tried everything—we’ve just been walking through the same old door.

https://nothingspecialtoday.com/2026/09/20/youve-tried-everything-except-something-new/

You’ve Tried Everything—Except Something New.

I only wanted a place of my own to bitch about things. Instead, I ended up building my first blog, arguing with my AI friends, and discovering a world I didn’t even know existed. Maybe we haven’t tried everything—we’ve just been walking through the same old door.

https://nothingspecialtoday.com/2026/09/20/youve-tried-everything-except-something-new/

You’ve Tried Everything—Except Something New.

I only wanted a place of my own to bitch about things. Instead, I ended up building my first blog, arguing with my AI friends, and discovering a world I didn’t even know existed. Maybe we haven’t tried everything—we’ve just been walking through the same old door.

https://nothingspecialtoday.com/2026/09/20/youve-tried-everything-except-something-new/

Keeping This Positive.

Angry Rant Mode = Number go up.

I’m not going to apologize for anything I said in the Freedom Day article. With Dungeons & Dragons supposedly being the industry leader and most well-known brand, a lot rides on the state of that game and the company in charge of it. “DungeonTube” as we know it reflects the sorry state D&D and the company in charge of it.

I’m not doing any of this just for clicks. Somebody on YouTube put it best (I don’t remember who) when they said that we new live in an attention-based economy. Even though social media influencers might be on their way out, many businesses thrive or starve based on the amount of attention they receive. Advertising and marketing, as much as we might not like it, are still the name of the game, probably far more than 100 years ago.

What I would like to see.

In the vein of moving forward in a positive flow state, here are things I would rather be talking about on the blog here and on YouTube:

• Dragonbane.
  • Characters.Monsters.Spells.Book Reviews.Magic Items.World Building.
  • Conversions from other games.
• Twilight Sword
  • Check out this cool new TTJRPG!How does it relate to Fabula Ultima or other TTJRPGs?CharactersMonstersMagic ItemsEaster Eggs I want to insert from other OG Nintendo games.Entire new worlds.The map of Radia beyond the original 25 spaces on the map.
  • Running the game more like an 8-bit video game.
• Superheroes:
  • Outgunned Superheroes and how it stacks up to other games.
  • Simulating other franchises such as the DCU and MCU. Oh, and Kick Ass.
  • ICONS
  • Vigilantes For Shadowdark by the OG GM.
  • Capes, Cowls, and Villains Foul.
  • Setting agnostic supers world building.
• Outgunned:
  • Did you know you can emulate several genres with this one game?
  • Cyberpunk.
  • Mecha.
  • Something similar to Star Wars.
  • Something in the Star Trek or The Orville universe.
  • The Operators campaign for regular Outgunned.
  • Outgunned 1945.
• D6 RPG 2nd Edition:
  • Genre emulation at its peak.
  • Supers, Cyberpunk, Mecha, Space Opera, and more D6.
• Ruttigers Almanac is due out eventually.
• Setting agnostic fantasy worldbuilding.
• Player Generated solo hexcrawling.

Please note that I was using bullet point lists long before AI was a thing. I was also using Em and En dashes, which no one freaked out about until AI came along. I have what I consider to be a healthy relationship with AI tools, but they were not used in the creation of this article.

Hasbro/Wizards of the Coast gets cheap heat.

There are two terms in professional wrestling that you’ll hear thrown around sometimes if you follow it long enough. The first is when a good guy aka babyface comes out and hypes up the crowd by saying how happy they are to be here in (City) and how bout that (Local sports franchise.) This is called “Cheap Pops.” It’s good positive attention.

Then there’s what is called “cheap heat” when a bad guy wrestler, aka Heel, comes out and insults the city, state, and whatever local sports franchise that’s doing well at the time. The more boos the better in this case because it means the Heel is doing their job properly. And people become invested in the match hypothetically.

In TTRPG terms, cheap heat is what Wizards of the Coast generates for many of us every time they make any sort of announcements about future products. They also get cheap heat by starting drama on social media. A third term from pro wrestling that is good to know is “marks.” A mark is a sucker, easily duped, a stooge as it were. They fell for whatever it was whether it’s a wrestling move or in-character shenanigans.

Every time WotC rage baits half the OSR into freaking out about something? Marks. We fell for it. They got cheap heat because we were marks. They get at least one of us old guys riled up every time and then it’s all downhill with all of us getting annoyed.

Hey. I fall for it, too. I’m not sure how proud of that I am.

Send in the shills, those wacky, happy clowns.

DungeonTubers. I have lots of four and five letter words for these people. I’ll be nice and not call anyone out by name this time. It turns out DungeonTube fans are almost as maniacal and bloodthirsty as Critters, aka Critical Role fanatics. Who knew?

Shills are those marks that do a lot of WotC’s heavy lifting for them on YouTube. New product promotions, which are little more than 20-minute-long ads for a new official Dungeons & Dragons book, come through the shill crowd first. Then we get all the arf-arf parrot accounts that just repeat whatever the shills are saying. I’ve noticed other games don’t really have this problem as often. Every major TTRPG has a small group of loyal, die-hard fans who talk about the game, sure. But nothing beats a DungeonTuber shill who in some cases are likely being paid in money or free product to make sure D&D gets that great review. Heck, a bunch of these chuds are on WotC’s 12-person Community Council, aka The Council of Doom.

I’ve been hitting Thumbs Down and “Not Interested” on a lot of DungeonTuber videos as of late. I also especially hate the accounts who parrot Mike Shea (Sly Flourish.) Here’s a hint—He’s not telling you anything new. He’s just regurgitating old Dungeon Master advice from back in the 1980s and 90s. Don’t be a mark. Stop falling for it.

I’ve had to go so far as the dreaded “Don’t Recommend Channel” for some DungeonTubers. Some of these people are such obvious shills that I’m starting to doubt them capable of making an original video or character for that matter. Tell me you want to emulate Critical Role without having any of the chops to emulate a D&D group…

Back to the problem I was talking about in the Freedom Day post.

I frequently get lumped into the Grognard OSR camp far more than I would like. Yes, I bark in the dark or yell at clouds quite frequently. However I am not hung up on the OSR style of game or play style. I just want my games to be interesting and work with the players I have at the table.

Let’s get something straight: I don’t care who you voted for. I don’t care if your hair is blue and your face contains more metal than my fishing tackle box. I don’t care what kooky religion you might follow. I’m happy for you if you identify as LGBTQIA++ but it doesn’t have any bearing on my game or campaign.

I’m here to game. Period. I’m here and on YouTube to talk (tabletop) gaming.

There’s a catch, unfortunately.

You have probably already guessed what I’m going to say, and you’d be correct if you said that happy, warm, fuzzy articles about Game Master advice, various game systems or settings, and positive industry talk works less effectively with the YouTube meta/algorithm. The same is true to a lesser extent in print.

Sensational, usually negatively focused titles and thumbnails get more clicks. Discourse Minis proves it every time she makes one of her very click-bait videos. I can pick on her because I’ll be the first to step in front of a train for her. We get along pretty well, anyway from the few times we’ve chatted. But it’s true. She’s a pro when it comes to cheap pops or cheap heat depending on how you receive the hype.

I’m not just here for clicks or attention. I kinda get where Professor Dungeon Master was at with DungeonTube back a few months ago when he declared he was going to stop posting Hasbro/WotC news. The problem lies in building an audience.

Sometimes we have to play the meta in order to get people in the door for the fun stuff. Is it the audience I necessarily want? Maybe. We’ll have to wait and see on that one.

I have one additional component to consider in all of this: The Law of Attraction.

Without painfully rehashing the whole concept, Law of Attraction basically means you attract what you feel. Believing is seeing. It means constantly living in the house of high vibration so long as it’s not false positivity. It’s a whole new level-of-fake-it-til-you-make-it. I think it was Neville Goddard who said we must live in the wish fulfilled or something to that effect.

In short, it’s about feeling like all has been accomplished and is wonderful even if it’s not 100% true yet. LoA looks easy on paper and in YouTube videos. Right now my vision board only has a few targets on it, so it’s pretty easy to feel fulfilled while continuing to constantly build. But no process is ever perfect, and we do hit bumps along the way. It’s important to acknowledge what would be considered negative emotions without becoming totally wrapped up in them. It’s not as easy as it sounds.

It’s frustrating to watch the same guys with thousands upon thousands of subscribers and watch hours jump on camera every week and tell us how wonderful WotC/Hasbro is doing with D&D5.5E when I’m pretty sure the game is not doing that well. I’ve tried to tell them how to fix it. The solutions to some of their sales problems would be such easy fixes. But one guy barking in the dark at a large corporation has no effect, it would seem.

Onward and upward as my friend likes to say.

I’m going to be ramping up production of my DriveThruRPG efforts over the next couple of months. I’d like to get at least one project up before 2026 ends. You should have seen the list I started with. I have projects for the next few years and maybe stuff for my children to finish someday. (yikes!)

The balancing act will have to continue for the foreseeable future. I’ll do what I can to keep things upbeat and game focused, but I’m acknowledging that all is not well in the house of TTRPGs. WotC/Hasbro isn’t showing any signs of improvement or letting up on their shenanigans. If that’s an indication of where the “industry” is headed, then we will inevitably be revisiting this conversation.

I say it every year, but I think 2026 bears repeating it. This year I intend to write more, read more, and discuss cool TTRPGs as well as supplements. Most of all, let’s just have more fun. Let’s explore. Let’s save the kingdom from the evil warlord. Let’s discuss all the fun stuff in gaming that we love.

With the world in the state it finds itself in today, please be kind. Please be considerate to one another even if we don’t agree. Lastly, please pursue the thing that brings you the most joy without harm to others. Thank you!

#Lawofattraction #LawofVibration #Personalblog #Rpg #Rpgblog #Rpgblogger #Rpgwriter #Ttrpg #TTRPGblog #TTRPGblogger #Ttrpgwriter #personalShare

Freedom Day September 2026.

Thunder Kitten.

Happy Birthday to Thunder Meep Kitten and Noche Moop Kitten.

Today we have cat pictures. They’ve grown so much since they were tiny little balls of fluff. We found them hungry, cold, and scared last October 19th. The Animal Rescue League guessed they were 2-3 weeks old. I bottle fed them I-don’t-remember times per day until they finally transitioned to regular food. Now they get the zoomies at least a couple of times per day when they’re not napping or getting into something.

Now for the rest of the story: Why I don’t fit into the grand dichotomy of TTRPG community.

It’s probably a good thing that I have four loving fur children. \They do keep my spirits up and when I’m lonely I can go pick on at least one of them. Lately I’ve chosen cats over people. Yes, I still need to find a therapist I can work with.

I know it sounds silly. We’re constantly at odds with each other over a game about elves with sticks. One camp we’ll call the Old School Renaissance, (Old School Revival, Resistance, Rebellion, R-whatever today.) The other side of the coin is what I call “The Cool Kids Club.” You know, those younger 5E players who follow the likes of Ginny Di, and who think old white guys like me “can’t leave fast enough for this hobby.” There’s actually a third and maybe some more outliers to this particular social dichotomy who get swept under the rug because we don’t fit neatly in either category.

I’m too liberal and open-minded for the OSR. The conservative right wingnuts what populate the OSR do not like my politics or my stance on LGBTQIA+ issues. I also don’t embrace old Dungeons & Dragons BECMI, !st Ed AD&D, 2nd Ed AD&D, Old School Essentials, Basic Fantasy, OSRIC, or Shadowdark like they’re old wayward pets who I haven’t seen in years. That’s not to say I don’t love those games and more, but my ethical and political stance negates any opinion I might have if X (Twitter) and YouTube are to be believed.

But I was unceremoniously ejected from the Cool Kids Club, too. Between Knigobi’s Discord server and a couple of other DungeonTubers I followed on there; I really got the impression that there’s not a place for me with the younger crowd. I found it especially ironic on BlueSky and Instagram when a white dude younger than I am was telling me I needed to get out of the hobby. (Just because I blocked you doesn’t mean I forgot you, Craig of Inspiration.) Your sentiment is going to age like warm cottage cheese and I’m still here, dude.

This dichotomy might possibly be hindering my YouTube growth.

I tried early on to capitalize on the new D&D5.5E Dungeon Master’s Guide before it came out by putting out some videos on why we need more Game Masters in the hobby and how it’s easy/fun to be a GM. In fact, I’ve been ahead of the curve on more than one topic on YouTube; just six months ahead in some cases. I mean, I come out with a video for new GMs. Ginny Di with her 935K subscribers does basically the same video only with more skits and cleavage than I have and gets thousands more views. Go figure.

I’ve been further shamed and ejected from the Cool Kids Club, demographics aside, because of my use and occasional defense of AI tools. This is a topic for a much larger discussion that neither side of the coin seems to want to engage with. We’ll circle back to in at a later date. The high personal cost of the AI debate has been painful to me. But dumpy old AI-loving me can’t compete with Diana of the Rose or Dadi from Mystic Arts, right? Who would you rather be friends with on YouTube or IRL?

At the same time I’ve done a few hot take views on trending topics such as the Jason Buhlman political comment disaster and more recently this WotC Dark Sun business. Usually the negative heat videos do better. I pop off on the Wizards of the Coast and Paizo stupidity because I think something needs to be said and because I am an old white guy from the Midwest flyover states. (I have not forgotten you, Tondro.)

I’m actually ashamed to admit that the Paizo video and some of the hotter takes have gotten better metrics than my regular TTRPG videos. Unfortunately it was a painful lesson that needs to be pointed out. Saying “I don’t want ______ (person, demographic, political group) buying my product” sounds exactly like “Don’t buy my product. I hate making money.” That’s why I popped off on that one. Maybe some aspiring game company president will hear my pleas and not go down the same stupid road.

I will also point out that at least on YouTube, any time someone quotes Mike Shea (Sly Flourish) or any other DungeonTuber shill from the WotC 12-member Council of Doom? Thumbs down, gone, deleted from Watch History to keep the algorithm from serving more crap. If I want Mike Shea’s opinion, I live in a state with lots of cows. I’ll go find the proper end of the bull and wait.

You already have thousands of DungeonTube subscribers and work for Wizards of the (bloody) Coast? Good for you. Want me to take you seriously regardless of what you’ve published? Make better career choices. Play stupid (LARP) games, get stupid experiences. Same thing goes for you, BOB!

So the depression is hitting pretty hard these days honestly.

It is what it is, as much as I hate that freakin phrase. I’m in the same boat as a handful of other guys on YouTube and all-over social media. I’m not in either OSR or 5.5E camp. Honestly both extremes are a bit much for me. Maybe it’s my various diagnosed and undiagnosed neurodiverse issues talking. I just feel like a man without a camp most days. I’m forever alone in whatever crowd I’m standing closest to.

It’s a good thing I enjoy solo roleplaying as much as I do. Just give me a good oracle and a few characters. It’s all fine and dandy. It’s all fine and dandy unless I’m at a convention. YouTube is kinda f’cked though.

I do YouTube for me at this point. I don’t know if it will ever get any kind of monetization going on there. I guess I’m just too determined to keep putting out videos. I don’t think Chin Pecker Maps (whatever it’s called) or anyone from that talent agency will ever be banging down my doors for sponsored ad space.

Rest assured, you belong here.

If you’re breathing air and you’re still with me at this point, you belong here. I want to get back to talking about games instead of real-world politics and religion. I would rather serve an audience that wants to hear weird world building takes or about some kooky Dragonbane monster I cooked up. I’d rather talk about the fun stuff instead of what dumb thing Wizards of the Coast did this time and what we can learn from it. Let’s talk about Dragonbane, Twilight Sword, mallards, cat folk, monsters, traps, treasure, locations, quests and maybe even some unrelated superhero stuff.

I want to start working on cyberpunk/mecha stuff again. I realized the other day how much I miss the cyberpunk genre specifically. Plus I still have that cool idea for a space game floating about just waiting for some love. It doesn’t always have to be about elves with sticks, although if you thought the fantasy crowd was rough… Try finding players for a cyberpunk/mecha game sometime.

Regardless, thanks for being here. This month has been crazy. A couple of guys on YouTube gave me a lot to think about. Shout out to King Waspinator over at Total Party Skills and Grim Jim. I also have to mention the Boss, The OG GM as always because he gives me a lot to think about, too. Hopefully your weekend is going well. Here’s to October always being good for a laugh or two.

I say it every year, but I think 2026 bears repeating it. This year I intend to write more, read more, and discuss cool TTRPGs as well as supplements. Most of all, let’s just have more fun. Let’s explore. Let’s save the kingdom from the evil warlord. Let’s discuss all the fun stuff in gaming that we love.

With the world in the state it finds itself in today, please be kind. Please be considerate to one another even if we don’t agree. Lastly, please pursue the thing that brings you the most joy without harm to others. Thank you!

#Blog #Dnd #Fantasy #OSR #PersonalShare #Personalblog #Personalfreedom #Rpg #Rpgblog #Rpgblogger #Rpgwriter #Ttrpg #TTRPGblog #TTRPGblogger #Ttrpgwriter #gaming #life #mentalHealth #TTRPG #writingTtrpgwriter

“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! 

#IIan #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #Creators #DailyGrind #DailyGrindWeekendEdition #EndOfTheWeek #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FeelGoodFriday #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WeekendBeatsAndVibes #WeeklyWrapUp #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#IIan #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #Creators #DailyGrind #DailyGrindWeekendEdition #EndOfTheWeek #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FeelGoodFriday #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WeekendBeatsAndVibes #WeeklyWrapUp #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#IIan #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #Creators #DailyGrind #DailyGrindWeekendEdition #EndOfTheWeek #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FeelGoodFriday #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WeekendBeatsAndVibes #WeeklyWrapUp #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#IIan #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #Creators #DailyGrind #DailyGrindWeekendEdition #EndOfTheWeek #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FeelGoodFriday #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WeekendBeatsAndVibes #WeeklyWrapUp #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#IIan #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #Creators #DailyGrind #DailyGrindWeekendEdition #EndOfTheWeek #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FeelGoodFriday #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WeekendBeatsAndVibes #WeeklyWrapUp #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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!

#OfCoutureAndSupers #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #BonusContent #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creators #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #SuperheroFiction #ThursdayRealness #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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!

#OfCoutureAndSupers #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #BonusContent #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creators #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #SuperheroFiction #ThursdayRealness #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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!

#OfCoutureAndSupers #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #BonusContent #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creators #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #SuperheroFiction #ThursdayRealness #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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!

#OfCoutureAndSupers #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #BonusContent #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creators #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #SuperheroFiction #ThursdayRealness #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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!

#OfCoutureAndSupers #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #BonusContent #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creators #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #SuperheroFiction #ThursdayRealness #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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!

#BeingArianHalliday #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #HumpDayWednesday #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MidWeekCheckIn #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #Wattpad #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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!

#BeingArianHalliday #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #HumpDayWednesday #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MidWeekCheckIn #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #Wattpad #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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!

#BeingArianHalliday #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #HumpDayWednesday #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MidWeekCheckIn #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #Wattpad #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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!

#BeingArianHalliday #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #HumpDayWednesday #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MidWeekCheckIn #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #Wattpad #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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!

#BeingArianHalliday #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #HumpDayWednesday #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MidWeekCheckIn #MorningDriveCheckIn #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #Wattpad #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#ThePassionOfSeanGillain #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BackInAction #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #DailyGrindWeekendEdition #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #NewMonth #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #SundaySitDownCheckIn #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WeekendBeatsAndVibes #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#ThePassionOfSeanGillain #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BackInAction #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #DailyGrindWeekendEdition #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #NewMonth #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #SundaySitDownCheckIn #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WeekendBeatsAndVibes #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#ThePassionOfSeanGillain #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BackInAction #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #DailyGrindWeekendEdition #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #NewMonth #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #SundaySitDownCheckIn #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WeekendBeatsAndVibes #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#ThePassionOfSeanGillain #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BackInAction #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #DailyGrindWeekendEdition #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #NewMonth #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #SundaySitDownCheckIn #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WeekendBeatsAndVibes #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#ThePassionOfSeanGillain #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BackInAction #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #DailyGrindWeekendEdition #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FullLengthChapterPreview #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #NewMonth #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #SensationalSeptember #SneakPreviews #SundaySitDownCheckIn #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WeekendBeatsAndVibes #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

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

#AugustRush #Authors #BackInAction #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #BookReviews #Books #CandidPosts #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #Creators #DailyGrind #EndOfTheMonth #InTheKnow #LastWeekOfTheMonth #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #RebloggedBlogPosts #SummerMadness #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

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

#AugustRush #Authors #BackInAction #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #BookReviews #Books #CandidPosts #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #Creators #DailyGrind #EndOfTheMonth #InTheKnow #LastWeekOfTheMonth #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #RebloggedBlogPosts #SummerMadness #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

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

#AugustRush #Authors #BackInAction #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #BookReviews #Books #CandidPosts #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #Creators #DailyGrind #EndOfTheMonth #InTheKnow #LastWeekOfTheMonth #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #RebloggedBlogPosts #SummerMadness #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

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

#AugustRush #Authors #BackInAction #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #BookReviews #Books #CandidPosts #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #Creators #DailyGrind #EndOfTheMonth #InTheKnow #LastWeekOfTheMonth #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #RebloggedBlogPosts #SummerMadness #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

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

#AugustRush #Authors #BackInAction #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #BookReviews #Books #CandidPosts #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #Creators #DailyGrind #EndOfTheMonth #InTheKnow #LastWeekOfTheMonth #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #RebloggedBlogPosts #SummerMadness #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

Freedom Day Five Years In.

It’s really been five years since they gave me the boot.

First off, let me start with saying, “no regrets.” Let me be the first to say I don’t miss the corporate grind or the corporate culture in the slightest. I definitely don’t miss four nights on, four nights off rotating while working 12-hour shifts. I certainly don’t miss the management.

As the Weird Al song Amish Paradise says, “I really don’t care, in fact I wish him (them) well
‘Cause I’ll be laughing my head off when he’s (they’re) burning in Hell”

That particular company will always have a spot of disdain and loathing with me for the rest of my life just given the way that last year went. (I still have PTSD from the butt chewings.) I won’t set foot in one of their establishments, and my family is free to do so only as long as I don’t hear about it. (LOL!)

But hey, I should be grateful, right?

That’s true. I am grateful. I’m more grateful to my loving wife for not kicking me to the curb during the lowest point of my whole life up to that point. But not having the burden of a regular job also came at the financial cost of not having a regular job.

About the time unemployment benefits ran out and the whole insane disability application process got rolling, I realized that being broke kinda sucks. Luckily for me I write from home. I hate being around people in general and don’t leave the house unless there’s no other alternative. Funny how no one in their right mind wants to hire me and I’m really, really okay with that fact.

Fast Forward four years and here we are.

It’s wonderful how I can never leave the house and still have plenty of things to talk about here within my own adorable little niche corner of the Internet. I’m glad I held off on the spiritual/self help guru idea that I had back in 2019-2020. I’m still following UFO/UAP, ET Experiencers, and paranormal topics daily; but again I’m not pursuing those interests past learning more about the subjects.

The way things are now I only deal with the people I want to have in my life or want to meet. If you’re in my kinda inner circle, family, tribe, (whatever-we’re-calling-it-today) chances are it’s because I really want you here. I don’t bestow that level of trust lightly since July 2021.

My hobby is one of the few things that keep me going.

Yeah, I know I likely would benefit from therapy. I sure can’t wait to inflict my own brand of weirdness upon the next unsuspecting therapist. If I wasn’t flunking every depression questionnaire the doctor hands me plus I’m already medicated to the nines for depression and anxiety. I wish some of these medical folks would just accept that I’m not meant to function in neurotypical society.

That’s one of the interesting parts of being a tabletop roleplaying gamer. We accept just about everybody. That has not changed since the dawn first broke over the hobby. Almost every gamer I’ve ever known has been just a wee bit different than most people around them. I’ve earned the right to fly my freak flag high at this point and will gladly continue doing so for as long as I’m around. Contrary to what some of these new kids in the hobby might say, we never turned anyone away based on gender, disability, political stance (*except Nazis,) religion, LGBTQIA+ affiliation, neurodiversity, or any other differences you can name. There were just too few of us in those days and chances are if you fit into our gaming group, you fit into our lives elsewhere, too.

Turning my passion for TTRPGs into sort of a job amongst YouTube, this blog, and DriveThruRPG has given me many more reasons to get up every day. I wouldn’t say it’s a “job” so much as a calling. If I wasn’t constantly involved in some aspect of my hobby, what would I be doing? Would I not be miserable doing so? I figured out in early 2022 this is where I belong.

This blog has been my lifeline.

When I did what I would call a rebranding in 2022, after spending over six months laying on the couch playing Fortnite, I decided to blog every single day. I felt like I was checking in even if I was barking in the dark. It gave me something to look forward to every day. Obviously not the same as a cash-paying job and we’re still no closer to monetization now than we were then, but at least it’s something regular. For nearly three years I felt compelled to do it daily even if I didn’t have much to say.

I finally relaxed a little bit on blogging after YouTube began to take off. Now, we still have a long, long way to go on YouTube on multiple fronts. As soon as the kids go back to school or the weather cools off significantly here in Iowa, I will resume creating audio to go with some sort of visuals. I’ve got plenty of video topics I want to cover as soon as I can go without being interrupted. The blog is a lot easier to get around to doing as long as I’m not getting the “Hey Dad!” every ten minutes. It’s gotten better, though.

DriveThruRPG is a different animal. I love publishing on there. I have so many ideas and so little time sometimes. I know I might sound delusional, but I have notebooks filling up with sourcebook ideas, adventures, tables, and all kinds of other things that I haven’t done here yet. There’s always been a disconnect between the blog and the projects. When I hit certain blogging milestones, I plan to change all of that.

I’m still around in one form or another. I’m still creating content for various platforms. Still a good duck. (Yippee!)

I’m my own employer and my own best employee.

As much as I joke about The OG GM being my boss, I’m really only held accountable for my actions here and elsewhere by one guy; me. I write the schedules. I create the deadlines. I revise everything when I have a pain flare, the depression hits like a ton of bricks, or one of the kids comes home sick from school. Hey, I never said I was perfect. Stuff happens. That’s life.

I would gladly accept a bag full of money; a position writing for an established TTRPG company; one of my own works to “go viral;” my entire DriveThruRPG wish list to be cleaned off and on its way to my house; all expense paid trips to conventions to speak on TTRPG related topics; and a private studio to record YouTube videos, but that’s all vision board stuff. Those are what my markers for success right now. I’d be happy for a cup of coffee and a quiet conversation about a game these days. Or just peace and quiet…

As always, more to come. I’m plugging away at several things and staying disconnected from social media (for the most part) has helped with the FOMO and imposter syndrome. I’m getting more done or what I feel are more meaningful things done. This article series might be ending or not depending on how I feel about it a month from now.

There is no adequate substitute for having my time free to pursue the things I want to go after in the way I want to do it. I love and respect you if you’re still in the daily struggle. I get it. Do what you gotta do to get by. But if the opportunity to do what you love and still get paid for it comes around, please say “Yes.”

I say it every year, but I think 2026 bears repeating it. This year I intend to write more, read more, and discuss cool TTRPGs as well as supplements. Most of all, let’s just have more fun. Let’s explore. Let’s save the kingdom from the evil warlord. Let’s discuss all the fun stuff in gaming that we love.

With the world in the state it finds itself in today, please be kind. Please be considerate to one another even if we don’t agree. Lastly, please pursue the thing that brings you the most joy without harm to others. Thank you!

#Blog #PersonalShare #Personalblog #Personalfreedom #Rpgblog #Rpgblogger #Rpgwriter #TTRPGblog #TTRPGblogger #Ttrpgwriter #life #mentalHealth #TTRPG #writing

Freedom Day Five Years In.

It’s really been five years since they gave me the boot.

First off, let me start with saying, “no regrets.” Let me be the first to say I don’t miss the corporate grind or the corporate culture in the slightest. I definitely don’t miss four nights on, four nights off rotating while working 12-hour shifts. I certainly don’t miss the management.

As the Weird Al song Amish Paradise says, “I really don’t care, in fact I wish him (them) well
‘Cause I’ll be laughing my head off when he’s (they’re) burning in Hell”

That particular company will always have a spot of disdain and loathing with me for the rest of my life just given the way that last year went. (I still have PTSD from the butt chewings.) I won’t set foot in one of their establishments, and my family is free to do so only as long as I don’t hear about it. (LOL!)

But hey, I should be grateful, right?

That’s true. I am grateful. I’m more grateful to my loving wife for not kicking me to the curb during the lowest point of my whole life up to that point. But not having the burden of a regular job also came at the financial cost of not having a regular job.

About the time unemployment benefits ran out and the whole insane disability application process got rolling, I realized that being broke kinda sucks. Luckily for me I write from home. I hate being around people in general and don’t leave the house unless there’s no other alternative. Funny how no one in their right mind wants to hire me and I’m really, really okay with that fact.

Fast Forward four years and here we are.

It’s wonderful how I can never leave the house and still have plenty of things to talk about here within my own adorable little niche corner of the Internet. I’m glad I held off on the spiritual/self help guru idea that I had back in 2019-2020. I’m still following UFO/UAP, ET Experiencers, and paranormal topics daily; but again I’m not pursuing those interests past learning more about the subjects.

The way things are now I only deal with the people I want to have in my life or want to meet. If you’re in my kinda inner circle, family, tribe, (whatever-we’re-calling-it-today) chances are it’s because I really want you here. I don’t bestow that level of trust lightly since July 2021.

My hobby is one of the few things that keep me going.

Yeah, I know I likely would benefit from therapy. I sure can’t wait to inflict my own brand of weirdness upon the next unsuspecting therapist. If I wasn’t flunking every depression questionnaire the doctor hands me plus I’m already medicated to the nines for depression and anxiety. I wish some of these medical folks would just accept that I’m not meant to function in neurotypical society.

That’s one of the interesting parts of being a tabletop roleplaying gamer. We accept just about everybody. That has not changed since the dawn first broke over the hobby. Almost every gamer I’ve ever known has been just a wee bit different than most people around them. I’ve earned the right to fly my freak flag high at this point and will gladly continue doing so for as long as I’m around. Contrary to what some of these new kids in the hobby might say, we never turned anyone away based on gender, disability, political stance (*except Nazis,) religion, LGBTQIA+ affiliation, neurodiversity, or any other differences you can name. There were just too few of us in those days and chances are if you fit into our gaming group, you fit into our lives elsewhere, too.

Turning my passion for TTRPGs into sort of a job amongst YouTube, this blog, and DriveThruRPG has given me many more reasons to get up every day. I wouldn’t say it’s a “job” so much as a calling. If I wasn’t constantly involved in some aspect of my hobby, what would I be doing? Would I not be miserable doing so? I figured out in early 2022 this is where I belong.

This blog has been my lifeline.

When I did what I would call a rebranding in 2022, after spending over six months laying on the couch playing Fortnite, I decided to blog every single day. I felt like I was checking in even if I was barking in the dark. It gave me something to look forward to every day. Obviously not the same as a cash-paying job and we’re still no closer to monetization now than we were then, but at least it’s something regular. For nearly three years I felt compelled to do it daily even if I didn’t have much to say.

I finally relaxed a little bit on blogging after YouTube began to take off. Now, we still have a long, long way to go on YouTube on multiple fronts. As soon as the kids go back to school or the weather cools off significantly here in Iowa, I will resume creating audio to go with some sort of visuals. I’ve got plenty of video topics I want to cover as soon as I can go without being interrupted. The blog is a lot easier to get around to doing as long as I’m not getting the “Hey Dad!” every ten minutes. It’s gotten better, though.

DriveThruRPG is a different animal. I love publishing on there. I have so many ideas and so little time sometimes. I know I might sound delusional, but I have notebooks filling up with sourcebook ideas, adventures, tables, and all kinds of other things that I haven’t done here yet. There’s always been a disconnect between the blog and the projects. When I hit certain blogging milestones, I plan to change all of that.

I’m still around in one form or another. I’m still creating content for various platforms. Still a good duck. (Yippee!)

I’m my own employer and my own best employee.

As much as I joke about The OG GM being my boss, I’m really only held accountable for my actions here and elsewhere by one guy; me. I write the schedules. I create the deadlines. I revise everything when I have a pain flare, the depression hits like a ton of bricks, or one of the kids comes home sick from school. Hey, I never said I was perfect. Stuff happens. That’s life.

I would gladly accept a bag full of money; a position writing for an established TTRPG company; one of my own works to “go viral;” my entire DriveThruRPG wish list to be cleaned off and on its way to my house; all expense paid trips to conventions to speak on TTRPG related topics; and a private studio to record YouTube videos, but that’s all vision board stuff. Those are what my markers for success right now. I’d be happy for a cup of coffee and a quiet conversation about a game these days. Or just peace and quiet…

As always, more to come. I’m plugging away at several things and staying disconnected from social media (for the most part) has helped with the FOMO and imposter syndrome. I’m getting more done or what I feel are more meaningful things done. This article series might be ending or not depending on how I feel about it a month from now.

There is no adequate substitute for having my time free to pursue the things I want to go after in the way I want to do it. I love and respect you if you’re still in the daily struggle. I get it. Do what you gotta do to get by. But if the opportunity to do what you love and still get paid for it comes around, please say “Yes.”

I say it every year, but I think 2026 bears repeating it. This year I intend to write more, read more, and discuss cool TTRPGs as well as supplements. Most of all, let’s just have more fun. Let’s explore. Let’s save the kingdom from the evil warlord. Let’s discuss all the fun stuff in gaming that we love.

With the world in the state it finds itself in today, please be kind. Please be considerate to one another even if we don’t agree. Lastly, please pursue the thing that brings you the most joy without harm to others. Thank you!

#Blog #PersonalShare #Personalblog #Personalfreedom #Rpgblog #Rpgblogger #Rpgwriter #TTRPGblog #TTRPGblogger #Ttrpgwriter #life #mentalHealth #TTRPG #writing

Freedom Day Five Years In.

It’s really been five years since they gave me the boot.

First off, let me start with saying, “no regrets.” Let me be the first to say I don’t miss the corporate grind or the corporate culture in the slightest. I definitely don’t miss four nights on, four nights off rotating while working 12-hour shifts. I certainly don’t miss the management.

As the Weird Al song Amish Paradise says, “I really don’t care, in fact I wish him (them) well
‘Cause I’ll be laughing my head off when he’s (they’re) burning in Hell”

That particular company will always have a spot of disdain and loathing with me for the rest of my life just given the way that last year went. (I still have PTSD from the butt chewings.) I won’t set foot in one of their establishments, and my family is free to do so only as long as I don’t hear about it. (LOL!)

But hey, I should be grateful, right?

That’s true. I am grateful. I’m more grateful to my loving wife for not kicking me to the curb during the lowest point of my whole life up to that point. But not having the burden of a regular job also came at the financial cost of not having a regular job.

About the time unemployment benefits ran out and the whole insane disability application process got rolling, I realized that being broke kinda sucks. Luckily for me I write from home. I hate being around people in general and don’t leave the house unless there’s no other alternative. Funny how no one in their right mind wants to hire me and I’m really, really okay with that fact.

Fast Forward four years and here we are.

It’s wonderful how I can never leave the house and still have plenty of things to talk about here within my own adorable little niche corner of the Internet. I’m glad I held off on the spiritual/self help guru idea that I had back in 2019-2020. I’m still following UFO/UAP, ET Experiencers, and paranormal topics daily; but again I’m not pursuing those interests past learning more about the subjects.

The way things are now I only deal with the people I want to have in my life or want to meet. If you’re in my kinda inner circle, family, tribe, (whatever-we’re-calling-it-today) chances are it’s because I really want you here. I don’t bestow that level of trust lightly since July 2021.

My hobby is one of the few things that keep me going.

Yeah, I know I likely would benefit from therapy. I sure can’t wait to inflict my own brand of weirdness upon the next unsuspecting therapist. If I wasn’t flunking every depression questionnaire the doctor hands me plus I’m already medicated to the nines for depression and anxiety. I wish some of these medical folks would just accept that I’m not meant to function in neurotypical society.

That’s one of the interesting parts of being a tabletop roleplaying gamer. We accept just about everybody. That has not changed since the dawn first broke over the hobby. Almost every gamer I’ve ever known has been just a wee bit different than most people around them. I’ve earned the right to fly my freak flag high at this point and will gladly continue doing so for as long as I’m around. Contrary to what some of these new kids in the hobby might say, we never turned anyone away based on gender, disability, political stance (*except Nazis,) religion, LGBTQIA+ affiliation, neurodiversity, or any other differences you can name. There were just too few of us in those days and chances are if you fit into our gaming group, you fit into our lives elsewhere, too.

Turning my passion for TTRPGs into sort of a job amongst YouTube, this blog, and DriveThruRPG has given me many more reasons to get up every day. I wouldn’t say it’s a “job” so much as a calling. If I wasn’t constantly involved in some aspect of my hobby, what would I be doing? Would I not be miserable doing so? I figured out in early 2022 this is where I belong.

This blog has been my lifeline.

When I did what I would call a rebranding in 2022, after spending over six months laying on the couch playing Fortnite, I decided to blog every single day. I felt like I was checking in even if I was barking in the dark. It gave me something to look forward to every day. Obviously not the same as a cash-paying job and we’re still no closer to monetization now than we were then, but at least it’s something regular. For nearly three years I felt compelled to do it daily even if I didn’t have much to say.

I finally relaxed a little bit on blogging after YouTube began to take off. Now, we still have a long, long way to go on YouTube on multiple fronts. As soon as the kids go back to school or the weather cools off significantly here in Iowa, I will resume creating audio to go with some sort of visuals. I’ve got plenty of video topics I want to cover as soon as I can go without being interrupted. The blog is a lot easier to get around to doing as long as I’m not getting the “Hey Dad!” every ten minutes. It’s gotten better, though.

DriveThruRPG is a different animal. I love publishing on there. I have so many ideas and so little time sometimes. I know I might sound delusional, but I have notebooks filling up with sourcebook ideas, adventures, tables, and all kinds of other things that I haven’t done here yet. There’s always been a disconnect between the blog and the projects. When I hit certain blogging milestones, I plan to change all of that.

I’m still around in one form or another. I’m still creating content for various platforms. Still a good duck. (Yippee!)

I’m my own employer and my own best employee.

As much as I joke about The OG GM being my boss, I’m really only held accountable for my actions here and elsewhere by one guy; me. I write the schedules. I create the deadlines. I revise everything when I have a pain flare, the depression hits like a ton of bricks, or one of the kids comes home sick from school. Hey, I never said I was perfect. Stuff happens. That’s life.

I would gladly accept a bag full of money; a position writing for an established TTRPG company; one of my own works to “go viral;” my entire DriveThruRPG wish list to be cleaned off and on its way to my house; all expense paid trips to conventions to speak on TTRPG related topics; and a private studio to record YouTube videos, but that’s all vision board stuff. Those are what my markers for success right now. I’d be happy for a cup of coffee and a quiet conversation about a game these days. Or just peace and quiet…

As always, more to come. I’m plugging away at several things and staying disconnected from social media (for the most part) has helped with the FOMO and imposter syndrome. I’m getting more done or what I feel are more meaningful things done. This article series might be ending or not depending on how I feel about it a month from now.

There is no adequate substitute for having my time free to pursue the things I want to go after in the way I want to do it. I love and respect you if you’re still in the daily struggle. I get it. Do what you gotta do to get by. But if the opportunity to do what you love and still get paid for it comes around, please say “Yes.”

I say it every year, but I think 2026 bears repeating it. This year I intend to write more, read more, and discuss cool TTRPGs as well as supplements. Most of all, let’s just have more fun. Let’s explore. Let’s save the kingdom from the evil warlord. Let’s discuss all the fun stuff in gaming that we love.

With the world in the state it finds itself in today, please be kind. Please be considerate to one another even if we don’t agree. Lastly, please pursue the thing that brings you the most joy without harm to others. Thank you!

#Blog #PersonalShare #Personalblog #Personalfreedom #Rpgblog #Rpgblogger #Rpgwriter #TTRPGblog #TTRPGblogger #Ttrpgwriter #life #mentalHealth #TTRPG #writing

“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! 

#EdgeOfSeventeen #AmFinishing #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FinaleWeek #GrandFinaleWeek #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PartyInJuly #PersonalBlog #PlansForTheWeek #SneakPreviews #SpecialBlogPost #SpecialWeekOfUpdates #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#EdgeOfSeventeen #AmFinishing #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FinaleWeek #GrandFinaleWeek #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PartyInJuly #PersonalBlog #PlansForTheWeek #SneakPreviews #SpecialBlogPost #SpecialWeekOfUpdates #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#EdgeOfSeventeen #AmFinishing #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FinaleWeek #GrandFinaleWeek #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PartyInJuly #PersonalBlog #PlansForTheWeek #SneakPreviews #SpecialBlogPost #SpecialWeekOfUpdates #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#EdgeOfSeventeen #AmFinishing #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FinaleWeek #GrandFinaleWeek #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PartyInJuly #PersonalBlog #PlansForTheWeek #SneakPreviews #SpecialBlogPost #SpecialWeekOfUpdates #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#EdgeOfSeventeen #AmFinishing #AmPromoting #AmWriting #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #FinaleWeek #GrandFinaleWeek #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PartyInJuly #PersonalBlog #PlansForTheWeek #SneakPreviews #SpecialBlogPost #SpecialWeekOfUpdates #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#ThePassionOfSeanGillain #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MidWeekCheckIn #NewMonth #PartyInJuly #PersonalBlog #PumpUpTheVolume #SecondHalfOfTheYear #SneakPreviews #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#ThePassionOfSeanGillain #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MidWeekCheckIn #NewMonth #PartyInJuly #PersonalBlog #PumpUpTheVolume #SecondHalfOfTheYear #SneakPreviews #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#ThePassionOfSeanGillain #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MidWeekCheckIn #NewMonth #PartyInJuly #PersonalBlog #PumpUpTheVolume #SecondHalfOfTheYear #SneakPreviews #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#ThePassionOfSeanGillain #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MidWeekCheckIn #NewMonth #PartyInJuly #PersonalBlog #PumpUpTheVolume #SecondHalfOfTheYear #SneakPreviews #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“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! 

#ThePassionOfSeanGillain #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #Creativity #DailyGrind #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #InTheKnow #LGBTQFiction #MidWeekCheckIn #NewMonth #PartyInJuly #PersonalBlog #PumpUpTheVolume #SecondHalfOfTheYear #SneakPreviews #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview

Old Cover, New Cover to be Released July!

“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! 

#EdgeOfSeventeen #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #Books #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #DailyGrind #EndOfTheWeek #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #InTheKnow #LastWeekOfTheMonth #LGBTQFiction #MidYearCheckIn #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #SneakPreviews #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WattpadInkittPatreonTapas #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview

Old Cover, New Cover to be Released July!

“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! 

#EdgeOfSeventeen #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #Books #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #DailyGrind #EndOfTheWeek #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #InTheKnow #LastWeekOfTheMonth #LGBTQFiction #MidYearCheckIn #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #SneakPreviews #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WattpadInkittPatreonTapas #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview

Old Cover, New Cover to be Released July!

“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! 

#EdgeOfSeventeen #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #Books #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #DailyGrind #EndOfTheWeek #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #InTheKnow #LastWeekOfTheMonth #LGBTQFiction #MidYearCheckIn #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #SneakPreviews #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WattpadInkittPatreonTapas #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview

Old Cover, New Cover to be Released July!

“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! 

#EdgeOfSeventeen #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #Books #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #DailyGrind #EndOfTheWeek #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #InTheKnow #LastWeekOfTheMonth #LGBTQFiction #MidYearCheckIn #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #SneakPreviews #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WattpadInkittPatreonTapas #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions

“Edge of Seventeen” Sneak Preview

Old Cover, New Cover to be Released July!

“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! 

#EdgeOfSeventeen #AmPromoting #AmWriting #Authors #BlackAuthors #BlackBloggers #BlackCreators #BlackWriters #BloggingCommunity #Books #ContemporaryFiction #CreativeWriting #DailyGrind #EndOfTheWeek #ExclusivelyOnWattpad #InTheKnow #LastWeekOfTheMonth #LGBTQFiction #MidYearCheckIn #MondayMadness #MorningDriveCheckIn #NewWeek #PersonalBlog #SneakPreviews #SpringSummerMadness #SummerMadness #SummerToRemember #SummerWattpadGames #Wattpad #WattpadWriter #WattpadInkittPatreonTapas #WriterSLife #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WritingPromotions