Tuesday, September 24, 2013


I think I said I'd post chapter 1. I am currently editing, adding info and details, filling in holes, and finishing the novel. IF ALL GOES WELL, and I can submit it in October, then most likely it COULD get published 8 months from then. Things take time. AND this is assuming (lol) that it gets accepted by the first publisher I submit it to, and that it takes 2 months to receive acceptance and 6 more months to produce the final product. One step at a time.

Chapter 1


I broke up with Chrissy through a text. I knew it was insensitive, but it was the third time in fourteen months we’d broke up and I wasn’t up for the obligatory “date” just to give her the boot. That would have been pointless. Chrissy knew we weren’t made for one another; we’d only ever had sex. Not that I was complaining about that, but pretending to be a couple was plain stupid. Besides, during those few times we had broken up, I had dated four other girls as well as hooking up with Corey, and I had seen Chrissy out with several other boys. I knew she’d be fine with it.
Her text response was: K.
It was shorter than I expected. Way shorter. Some part of me hoped for something along the lines of “Oh, really? Are you sure? I’ll miss your huge dick fucking my dripping pussy.” But that was just wishful thinking on my part. It was my fantasy, not reality. In reality Chrissy gave me a one-letter reply: K.
I pocketed my phone and headed down the steps. My hard-working mother, meticulous and self-sacrificing, was in the kitchen washing dishes much like she was every morning of my existence. I yawned and wandered over to the cabinet and took out a glass.
“It’s about time, sleepy head,” my mom said. She was normally talkative and full of energy in the morning, on the contrary—I was not.
I looked her way and smiled groggily. “Good morning.” Two words were all I could muster.
My mom dried her hands and walked up behind me. I felt her head on my back and her arms squeezed me around my middle. This was the way she hugged me every morning if I was busy pouring juice or standing by the toaster. On the rare occasion I would turn around and hug her like a normal son, but mostly she hugged me from behind. She wasn’t bothered by the method as long as the hug was had first thing. I kind of liked the affection, even if I wasn’t a kid anymore. She released me and commented, “Morning was about three hours ago, Nicky, now it’s afternoon.”
“What?” A jolt of panic prompted me to stop pouring my juice and whirl around to find the clock. Nine forty-five. My terror defused, I grumbled, “No it’s not. I still have fifteen minutes to leave for work. That signifies it’s still morning.”
She patted my back and went back to washing the dishes. Of course, she couldn’t allow the silence to linger long. Mom had a hard time doing that. “For a person who got up at four thirty,” she explained, “to get your father off to work, who has done three loads of laundry and ironed six shirts and four pair of pants, it’s the afternoon. One of these days you’ll realize how cushy your life is, mister. It must be nice having an extra long weekend ahead of you. Will the family see your face, or will you sleep through it all?”
I swallowed a mouth full of juice and set the glass down. “Mom, I know I live like a king, that’s why I’ll never leave.” I joked. Truly, I did know how good I had it at home. It was the one thing I had going on that I didn’t want to change. “And yes you’ll see me this weekend. You asked me to take off on Monday, so I put in for it weeks ago. And it’s not my fault my normal Saturday off this month falls on the same weekend.” I chuckled and continued, “The boss was actually a little peeved about that. It was funny.”
My mother didn’t see the humor when she said, “But you were off yesterday. Working three days a week must be nice.” She dried a dish and put it away, la-dee-da. She rarely gave me a break about the comfort I enjoyed, except, she also didn’t try to curb it. I secretly think she’s jealous.
I instinctively defended myself by saying, “Hey, Sunday we’re closed because the owner is a Christian. Don’t mock his religion, Mom. The schedule has always been like this since I started, why are you busting my chops about it now?” I wasn’t sure where the conversation was leading, and I wasn’t overly enthused about asking, but I did when she remained silent. “Mom, what are you getting at?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She was all “apathetic” and that bothered me. My mom always had an opinion and when she held it back, it was most likely because she thought I wouldn’t like it. “You sleep all day. You go to work, barely. I mean,” she sighed, “I know you work almost forty hours a week now, and I’m glad, but we hardly ever see you. When you come home, you go out with that girl—”
“Chrissy and I broke up,” I interjected. It was like a knee-jerk reaction, the comment popping out on its own.
I noticed her shoulders come up. “Oh… well, I’m sorry about that, but I’m sort of glad. She wasn’t really… right for you.”
I knew my mom. What she was saying without saying it was that Chrissy was a tramp. I knew that. When she came over my house all we did was make-out in my room before dinner, and then she’d make small talk while she groped me under the table. She was even hornier than Dawn, come to think of it. It wasn’t that Chrissy didn’t know how to respect my parents; she was simply tactless.
“You don’t have to worry, Mom, I’m not seeing her anymore.” I sincerely hoped not. I had meant it the other few times we’d broken up, but somehow that itch just kept showing up and Chrissy knew how to scratch it.
“Oh, good.” Mom was pleased. I enjoyed hearing the perky sound that returned to her voice. She continued, “Chrissy took up a lot of your time. Whatever happened to your friend Corey? He hasn’t been around in ages.”
Of course my mom liked Corey. He was super social. Plus, he knew decorum. Around the parents, Corey put on a straight face. He didn’t flirt. He didn’t grope me and he certainly didn’t kiss me in front of them. We looked like buds. And Corey really was my friend, sort of. We talked… sometimes. Mainly the long conversations were at the dinner table when he stayed for a meal. When we were out, it was all fucking and grunting and very few words. But over dinner, I had learned about his family and upbringing and things he wanted to accomplish in life.
Oddly, I felt a pang of longing. Hearing his name out of the blue reminded me I missed him. The few times we hooked up in the past year were sensational, but they never lasted. Corey wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. He was up front with that stipulation and I was fine with it since I was straight most of the time. Besides, I had Chrissy to fall back on.
“Um, Corey moved to DC,” I explained. I grabbed a pan out of the cabinet and put some water on for Ramen noodles—my staple of life.
“Oh,” she responded sadly. “I’m sorry, dear. He seemed like such a nice boy. You don’t have too many guy friends over, I guess I was glad to see you had at least one.”
“I have friends. Paul at work is pretty cool.” I tried to be up beat about it, but really, that fact nagged me all the time. I basically didn’t talk with anyone outside work.
“Well, maybe you could invite him to dinner sometime.”
She was all cheery and optimistic and I hated squelching her bliss. “Mom, guys don’t have dinner with their buddy’s families. It’s just not done. I’m not in high school.”
“Well, all I’m saying is that, if you ever decide to bring over a buddy to watch sports with your dad or something, he will be welcome to stay for dinner.”
“Watch sports?” I arched an eyebrow. Something fishy was going on in Denmark and I was starting to figure it out. “You just want me in the living room so you can watch what I’m doing.”
“No…,” she tried to say but relented, “okay, yes. I didn’t like you and Chrissy up in your room doing who knows what with the door closed. It’s just not a good example for your little sister. At least with Corey, I knew you weren’t having sex on the bed I’d just made.”
I nearly choked. “Mom!” I coughed a few times expelling juice from my lungs.
“Sorry for being so blunt, but that girl wasn’t quiet. I heard you a few times down here when I came home with groceries.”
The thought of my mom hearing me have sex was just gross, but in some ways a relief that she fixated on Chrissy. My shock, and near death experience from choking, was from her slight reference to me having sex with Corey on my bed. Because that did happen! “Mom,” I tried explaining again when my hacking-up-a-lung attack had subsided. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to hear that. It won’t happen again.” And I meant it.
“Good,” she replied. “Now, if you excuse me, I have to get ready for Zumba.” She kissed my cheek and headed out of the room.
“Bye, Mom. See you after my shift.” I called after her, still standing at the stove stirring my noodles.
“Okay,” she called back, her voice drifting down the hall. We were one of those “yelling” families that hollered through the house. And, on occasion, we texted each other from one room to another in the house. No one ever seemed energetic enough to walk and find the person they wished to converse with—ha ha, that would be stupid.
After adding the flavor packet, I drained the juice, poured the noodles in a bowl and sat down to eat. I had five minutes.
My phone buzzed. It was a text from Mary-Louise. Hey, I’m throwing a party this weekend. It might be one of the last few. My schedule changed and I’ll have less time for fun. I guess I have to be a grown-up now.
I grinned. She’d moved to Alexandria, Virginia after she graduated. Not that Alexandria was all that far away, less than two hours south wasn’t bad, but I still hadn’t seen her in months. Some of the regular crowd drove down a few times, but it hadn’t interested me. It was a lot of money in gas just to drink and get laid. I could do that right here. But then again, she was my friend.
I texted: Nah, I’ll pass. I work a lot too.
It wasn’t a lie. Since I had gotten the job at Papa’s Pizzeria, I worked fulltime and that included practically every weekend. It was the first forty-hour job I’d kept longer than two months. My mom even told me she was proud of me when I’d hit the ninety-day mark and had gotten a raise. So far, it’d been seven months in a row of employment for the Nickster! Oh, yeah! I was so stoked.
Mary-Louise texted back: We will miss you! :^( How are things with Chrissy? Still seeing her?
No. Broke up this morning.
Sorry. :^(  She wasn’t right for you anyway.
Can I ask you a question? I had to know. We’d been friends for years now and she was the only one of our usual crowd I hadn’t slept with. I needed to know why?
Ok, so, I’ve known you for years. Why is it we never hooked up?
Mary-Louise took a long time responding. So much time that I had finished my noodles, threw on a work shirt, and was in my car before I received a reply. She wrote: I really thought you knew, especially since you were close friends with Corey. I’m a lesbian, Nick. I was dating Shawna my senior year. I’m sorry if that freaks you out. I hope not. You’ve always been so non-judgmental.
“Shawna?” I questioned out loud. I pulled into work and parked my car. I was baffled. I had fooled around with Shawna a couple of times and I never knew she was a lesbian. Fuck me!
Before getting out of the car I texted a response: No, I didn’t know. And yes, it’s fine. It doesn’t bother me if you’re gay. At least it explains why you never went out with me when everyone else was taking a turn. I hope you’re happy.
I am, thanks. What about you and Corey? Anything ever happen with him?
Corey. Why does it keep coming back to him? I texted: He moved to DC and I haven’t seen him since New Years. But I think he’s fine.
Too bad, you made a cute couple.
“We weren’t a couple,” I complained out loud as if she could hear me. Now she was just agitating me. I’m not gay, M-L! I tended to shorten her name in text to initials. Mary-Louise was just too long. And even when we spoke, I sometimes shortened it and she didn’t mind.
Oh! No, of course not. I’m sorry. I just thought you and Corey had a thing going. I’m sorry if I was wrong. Please don’t be mad.
No, I’m not. Just frustrated. I do miss Corey, but it’s not ’cause I’m gay for him.
Okay. I believe you. Listen, I gotta go. But I hope you find someone better for you than Chrissy. She’s so trashy. You deserve better!
Like Dawn?
Oh God, no!
Bye, Nick.
Laterz M-L!
I locked my car and walked into work feeling glum. Why did M-L think I was gay? Do I look gay? I think not! Breaking up with Chrissy was a good thing. But missing Corey… I shook away the feelings that bubbled up concerning him. Denial was best.

Friday, September 20, 2013

Status of "Names Can Never Hurt Me"

Hey y'all.

Let's see... I've been busy. Working my fingers to the bone as they say in order to bring you another emotional read. THIS ONE is not like The Cost of Loving. It is not as deep and is not written with the intention of ripping your heart out. Name Can Never Hurt Me is about labels. It is about bullying and abuse, but as with most of my writing I hope to take you on a little twist and make you see the topics differently. I was in the process of writing and editing and restructuring my manuscript (MS), and I needed a break. So when I take a break from writing, I write a blog. LOL HAHAHA! A short time ago I had 79,813 words all in one MS. Then I brilliantly decided to redo it and restructure it so it was easier to follow. Some of that included rewriting some chapters and cutting others. I cut 1642 words, I am in the middle of rewriting a chapter that was originally 3727 words. Between yesterday and today I added 5998 words of new material. (Mostly at the end of the book.) Now, NCNHM stands at 84,324 words. It is almost finished. I have the basic story in my head. In a nut shell, it is about overcoming stigmas attached to labels. I am not worried about the word count anymore. It is novel length and as I fill in the holes (plot-wise) the word count will go up. It is meant to be a break from the deeply emotional reads that When Love Is Not Enough, and The Cost of Loving are. Soon enough, I will continue writing Love, Trust, and Learning to Live Again. That book will be hard. It is Darian's story, of course it will be hard. I have a cover for it, which is absolutely amazing! But I am still working on the blurb.

Right now, I am pushing to finish NCNHM. Have you read the blurb for that? What do you think?

What if sexuality wasn’t a definable thing, and labels merely got in the way?

Nick Jones couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t popular, when he wasn’t the best looking guy in the room, nor could he recall ever having to coax a woman into bed with him. And recently, Nick even added guys to the list of “been there—done that” when kissing Corey on a dare led to much more and on several occasions. His reputation to “screw anything” was well known, and he didn’t care. Constant sex had never been a problem. So why was the attention of someone new causing such consternation?

RC was a mystery from the moment they met. A frequent customer where Nick worked, getting to know RC was interesting, yet incremental due to the fact that he wasn’t in the “in crowd.” RC was overweight, always sweaty, and lived up to the nickname “scruffy dude”. Still, Nick could not let go of his deep longing for friendship, even if that friendship was with a loser—and a gay loser at that.

When friendship with RC stirs longings deep within his heart, Nick is faced with a need to look past the superficial and take hold of a connection deeper than he’s ever known before. External pressures of social conformity threaten to snuff out the fire before it ignites his soul, but the deeper question for Nick is why one relationship should define his future as he navigates the waters of self-discovery and sexual identity.

Do you want an excerpt? I'll give you one. I have released a snippet of this prologue before. (A couple times.) Here it is in full. The prologue to Names Can Never Hurt Me:

(NOTE: I apologize if you are reading this on Goodreads and the format is all screwed up from how the feed pulls it over from Blogspot. I will link my blog on the end)


Last Year

It was last year’s party at Mary-Louise’s house that got me thinking all the wrong thoughts. She threw a kegger on Saint Patrick’s Day and I guess I should have known better than to tempt fate by overindulging and letting my eyes wander. I would have been better off numbing my brain and sticking to what everyone else did and what everyone else thought, but I’m me so of course I couldn’t conform. And fantasizing about Corey Parrish, more precisely his luscious mouth, was not what everyone else did! (At least not the people I knew.) The guys I hung around with normally ignored him, while the girls flocked to his side for advice on outfits or hair. Whatever. I didn’t care about any of that. But I also shouldn’t have cared—or wondered—so much about the flavor of his lip-gloss. Damn!
So, like I said, it was last year and I was drinking green beer. At the beginning of the night nothing else mattered except the booze and contemplating which girl might take me home that night. I scanned the packed living room of Mary Louise’s house and I couldn’t help but chuckle. It’s always the same. No matter how many “frat” parties I go to, the girls stand around giggling while the guys get slammed.
“Says the guy who’s out of Budweiser.” I tipped back my plastic cup and swallowed my last drop of beer as I mumbled about the irony before meandering through the house to find the keg in the kitchen.
Mary-Louise was a pastor’s kid determined to sow some wild oats. She was nice enough to throw parties practically every weekend, but not nice enough to spread her legs for me—yet. That was fine, I didn’t care. Someone else would. At least she didn’t slap me for trying to get her into bed—four times. I met her at the local community college when we were in the registrar’s line for new students. Since then, I’d taken classes on and off at the same place for four years, while Mary-Louise transferred to a four-year college. By now—were I attending a regular college like my friend—I’d have a degree. Instead, I had loads of casual friends who liked to throw parties, and lots of time to get drunk instead of figure out my future.
I just didn’t know what I wanted to do.
Life after high school pretty much sucked. I wasn’t expecting that. I was popular back then, and I guess I still am, but life’s more difficult now. I’ve got bills to pay, and I don’t know what career path to choose. Luckily, I still live with my folks and they don’t ask for rent. They made a deal with me, that as long as I paid my car insurance and maintained a 3.75 GPA (when I was actually taking classes that is,) I’m free to stay at home. But how many years will they tolerate a slacker son? I don’t know. And really, the list of “I don’t knows” is longer than the list of shit I was sure of. It’s depressing if I think about it.
So I don’t think—I drink!
I filled my cup with beer and watched the crowd chant as one guy stuck his head under the keg nozzle and another guy opened it full blast. “Idiots,” I mused. Not that I was all that different from them, I knew I was an idiot.
“Hey, Nick.”
I turned toward that oh-so-familiar voice behind me. “Hey Dawn,” I said with a slight lift of my chin. “What’s up?”
Dawn grinned and looked at her perky little friend before answering. Her long brown curls bounced around her face and reminded me of the time I watched her go down on me, and all I could see was that lovely hair spread like a blanket over my pelvis. That was sexy as hell. “Well,” Dawn said, “Chrissy and I were wondering if you’d take on a little dare of ours?”
I leaned on the doorframe next to me. I was curious enough to listen because they were a precocious pair. I took a swig of my newly filled cup and asked, “Oh yeah? What kind of dare?” Not that it mattered. If I did them a favor, maybe they’d be willing to do me a little favor later—possibly together. Besides, I liked a challenge every now and again; it kept life interesting.
They giggled and—yes—I rolled my eyes. Girls.
I surmised it was Chissy’s turn to talk for the two of them because she smiled my way and got a devilish look in her eyes. “You see Nick, Dawn and I dared Corey Parrish to kiss a straight guy. He said he would if we could find someone up to the task who was sober enough to remember it happened, yet cute enough not to be desperate.” Chrissy blushed wide and ducked her head against Dawn’s shoulder. She acted embarrassed, but I didn’t buy it for a second. She was a hussy if ever I knew one. She held Dawn’s hand and nibbled her bare shoulder playfully, but I knew for a fact they both liked dick.
Corey? My stomach quivered. I was just thinking about Corey.
Corey Parrish was hot as fucking fuck, and the thought of his mouth did things to me I was trying to not dwell on. Something in the way he talked made me picture kissing him and biting that lower lip until it bled. Shit. To make matters worse, Corey was openly gay. Did I really need to get mixed up in Dawn and Chrissy’s little dare with a gay guy?
I sipped my beer and casually tucked my fingers into the front pocket of my jeans. If I could remain calm, they’d never know I was about to puke. (From nervousness, not excessive drinking.) “What’s in this for Corey? Don’t you think it’s a cruel joke allowing him to kiss me and get nothing in return?”
“He wants my brother’s cell number. I said I’d give it to him if he did something for me,” Dawn replied, simply enough.
Blackmail? Yeah, that was Dawn’s MO. Still, I played dumb. “How is my kissing Corey something for you?” I took another swallow of beer.
Dawn smiled wickedly. “I think it’s hot.”
“Hot?” I lifted one eyebrow.
Chrissy agreed, “Oh yeah! Two guys kissing is so hot.”
Two guys kissing is hot? Fuck yeah! I totally agreed. Only last week I was browsing online, clicking different shared-links on Facebook, when before I knew it I was pulling one off over a picture of two guys kissing—extending their tongues into each other’s mouths. It was a black and white photograph; one guy had facial hair and the other didn’t. As I stared at it, I began fantasizing about Corey right there in my bedroom. That was a first for me—thinking about another guy like that. I wanted to kiss Corey from the first time he saw him at Mary-Louise’s New Year’s Eve party, but jerking off over it hadn’t happen until last week. It shocked the shit out of me mostly because, as I said before, Corey’s gay. I’m not. I date girls all the time. I have sex with girls all the time. Just because I felt attracted to Corey recently didn’t make me gay. Bisexual maybe, but not gay.
Suddenly, my mouth was answering, “So, all I gotta do is kiss him?” Shit, I’d just agreed to it! That’ll teach me to daydream in the middle of a conversation.
Dawn’s eyes went wide. “You’ll do it?” she cried in delight.  (in red because I considered changing it)
Calm down, Nick, it’s only a kiss. “Yeah, it’s just a kiss, right? No big.” I tried passing off nervous exhilaration as nonchalance.
“Seriously? You are so cool, Nick!” Chrissy said. “I knew you wouldn’t care. You’re so open-minded.”
And apparently they bought it.
“Yeah, anything to make the two of you hot and juicy.” I grinned and lifted my eyebrows twice. They didn’t need to know I was into it because their pawn was Corey.
I followed them into the other room to where Corey sat on the couch chitchatting with some girl I didn’t know. Corey talked to every girl, and although I tended to be overly verbose myself, I wasn’t surprised there were a few ladies I hadn’t seen before. Mary-Louise invited everyone to her parties. I was in no way jealous of Corey’s congeniality or charm. I had plenty of my own.
He was wearing a tight green T-shirt with a v-neck, which allowed his chest hair to curl over the edge of the fabric. The word “alluring” came to mind and I questioned my agreement to do this. I’d have to be extra careful kissing him, because if I started fingering the hairs on his chest like I was itching to do, then these girls might start rumors. I didn’t need “gay” rumors squelching my frequent, no-strings-attached sex life. No way, José!
“So Corey, we found someone,” Chrissy announced proudly, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Chrissy tended to have more energy than a seven-year-old after a two-pound bag of skittles. She always bounced.
Corey looked up and smiled. Fuck me. I felt a quiver in my stomach. “Wow,” he replied. “I’ll say you did!” He licked his top teeth with the tip of his tongue and batted his eyes—showing off his green-glitter eye make-up—which did not help my apprehension over kissing him. He was fucking adorable and my body knew it. Corey asked flirtatiously, “I recognize you. Nick, right? I saw you at the New Year’s Eve party making out with Shawna. Why do you want to kiss me?”
Knowing he noticed me back on New Year’s did not help my trepidation. Plus—want? He thinks I want to kiss him? “I thought it was a game,” I interjected, making sure I kept my voice low and casual. “They want to play with you, and you want Andrew’s number.”
Corey’s pleased expression disappeared, but I wasn’t going to change my orientation to coax it back. “True,” he relented. “Okay, it’s a game, but you’re conceding to it. Why? What do you get?”
Now was the test. Could I portray arrogance and not over do it to the point of absurdity? I hoped so; I surely had experience. I slid my palm over the T-shirt clinging to my muscular chest, (oh yeah, I was cut,) and replied, “I get to kiss a hot guy and add another name to the list of those who want me.”
“God knows I want you,” Chrissy said from the side. Perfect timing.
I tilted my head in her direction and grinned. “Thanks babe.” I winked for emphasis. “You’ll get your turn.”
“Oh, someone is sure of himself.” Corey shooed the girl next to him away and patted the cushion. “Come here, honey. Let me see what you got.”
“Here, hold this.” I handed my beer to Dawn and sat next to Corey. The prospect of kissing this guy ignited tendrils of tingling electricity all over, but I had to play it cool. No way was I getting hard and giving the girls the wrong impression. This was a game. I’m not gay.
I questioned Chrissy with a look. “Am I kissing him or is he kissing me?”
Before she could answer, I felt Corey take a hold of my chin and turn my head to face him. He planted his lips firmly on mine and lingered before pulling back with a sigh. “Nice. You willing to take it further?” Corey asked, teasing my lips with a swift flick of his tongue. His eyes were intense.
Helplessly, I nodded and leaned in. All my nervous energy from before transformed into a surge of adrenaline. I had to have more of that mouth!
The girls squealed in delight, but I ignored them as Corey’s hot mouth connected with mine again. Corey curled his fingers into my neck and pulled me closer. He parted his lips and I slipped my tongue inside his mouth, taking control of the kiss and causing Corey to moan into my mouth. This was so fucking good! As our tongues clashed, I felt a deep need to fuck like I’d never felt before.
This was way different than kissing girls, I thought. It was seriously intense, for one thing, and for another—when I kissed girls—I often felt it in my toes, but this was the first time I ever felt like my groin was on fire. Not that that meant my body would react the same with any guy I kissed, but Corey surely did a number on my sex.
I turned his body on the couch and leaned into him, pushing him against the back of the couch. I heard him whimper and felt him move his hand down my neck and onto my chest. His warm palm rested over my pectoral muscle and it made me want to flex for him, but I didn’t. As soon as I thought about it, he pinched my nipple and those tingles I felt intensified. My body was humming in ways I didn’t expect, and my mind conjured up thoughts of doing things I didn’t expect. Instinctively, I moved my leg over Corey’s knee and angled my hips a smidgeon. Oh God, I need friction. I gripped his shoulder with one hand as I held the side of his neck with the other, but man-oh-man did I want to touch myself, or even rub myself against his leg a little. Anything.
Corey felt unbelievable against me.
As if it was the most natural thing in the world to do, I slid my fingers into the short hair behind Corey’s ear and that was when I heard someone comment, “Geez, you were right. Nick’ll fuck anything.” The sound of an unfamiliar female voice behind me whispering such a toxic comment squelched my unexpected hunger, but I controlled my resentment. It was far better to ignore the comment and pretend it didn’t happen, than to cause a scene and draw unwanted attention to the fact that I was hard as hell and I was seconds from dry-humping his leg. If I was cool about it, maybe Corey and I could slip off somewhere.
I slowed my pace, kissing him gently, and pulled back as if nothing were amiss. The heady look in Corey’s eyes stroked my ego, so I winked at him before facing the gathering throng of horny women.
Three eager girls sat side-by-side on the coffee table in front of the couch—Dawn, Chrissy, and a blond girl I didn’t know—while another few stood behind them. It seemed as though a lot of girls liked watching two guys kiss. Hmm. “Well? Hot enough for you?” I asked, knowing exactly what they’d say.
“Oh yeah,” Dawn replied as she placed her hand on Chrissy’s thigh, caressing her skin and running her fingers up the inside of Chrissy’s leg.
Chrissy moaned quietly, and spread her legs further apart. “Yes… hot.” She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Her reaction kind of made me think of reaching up her dress, but Dawn beat me to it. I watched Dawn’s hand disappear under the fabric as she kissed her friend—her girl friend—and feel her up.
Hypocrite, I sneered. It was okay to judge me and by saying I’d “fuck anything,” but Dawn was doing the exact same thing. I knew personally just how she liked to fuck, and how often.
My attention was drawn back to Corey when I heard him sigh. (He was still recovering from my kiss.) I shook my head and scoffed, “Women! I’m outta here.”
I had to leave. Watching the two of them kiss after I’d just made-out with Corey made my need to come stronger than ever. I dashed upstairs to find the bathroom. No sooner did I lock the door and unzip my jeans, than I heard a quiet knock. “Shit!” I hissed. “It’s occupied,” I called to the person on the other side.
“Nick?” Corey whispered.
I opened the door a few inches. “Corey, now’s not the time to—”
Corey interrupted me by pushing his way inside the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and said, “I’m sorry, but I wanted to catch you before you finished.”
“Corey, I—”
“Save it,” Corey insisted, holding up a hand. “There’s a garage out back. Meet me behind it in fifteen minutes and I’ll take care of your little… problem.” He made his insinuation clear by boldly palming my erection. “Unless you think allowing me to suck you off is a little too open-minded.”
I couldn’t answer. In fact, if he touched me a second longer I was going to come in my pants. Having someone else rub my dick felt so amazing. Sure, girls did it, but rarely without my insistence. Corey, however, seemed to know what I needed without prompt. All I could do was close my eyes and groan.
Corey took his hand away and snickered. “Meet you out back.” And he was gone.
I regrouped and contemplated his proposal. He said he’d suck me off. Would Corey want me to reciprocate? I’d never sucked a dick before. Corey was the first boy I ever kissed. Or ever wanted to kiss. Did it matter? Would people think I was gay? Did that matter? It was just sex, right? I wasn’t dating Corey. I wasn’t getting emotional about it. It was just sex. Two guys getting off. No big.
I once heard a saying that over-analyzation leads to paralyzation. (I don’t even know if those are real words.) Needless to say, I left the bathroom in a hurry.
Finding Corey behind the garage wasn’t a problem. I slipped out of the house without too much hassle. I got stopped a couple times, but by now, most people at the party were drunk and they weren’t paying attention where others were going and who they were with. I walked out the front door and headed around the side of the house after pretending to puke on the lawn. (That was a classic excuse to leave a party.)
Corey grabbed me as soon as I drew near and pushed me up against the side of the building. His kiss was urgent and his hands were greedy. He was a little rough and I liked it. It was nice not having to take charge for once. It felt liberating. Corey kissed me a minute or two before he sank to his knees. I felt a warm rush surge through my extremities as I looked down at him, his eyes glinting in the faint light. Corey unzipped my jeans and freed my rigid cock. Oh fuck, that’s hot!
Corey’s tongue made me shiver. Corey’s hands made me weak. But it was the suction of Corey’s throat that made me tremble like never before. I rested my hand on Corey’s head and gently encouraged his bobbing motion. I even felt daring enough to thrust my hips forward and force myself down Corey’s throat. And Corey didn’t mind! Girls hated to be forced to take more of me in. Not that I’m a porn-star material, but I’m not small by any means. Being with a guy was a refreshing change of pace. Corey sucked wildly and it didn’t take me long to feel close.
“Corey,” I whispered, leaning my head back on the brick wall. His wet friction was astonishing. “Corey,” I whispered again more urgently. “I’m gonna… come.” I tugged on Corey’s hair, but he didn’t let up. Seconds later I felt my release empty into his throat and Corey didn’t pull back. He kept licking and swallowing until I was finished, and only then did he get off his knees and kiss me.
The taste was strong, salty… different.
Corey tasted like… me, and to my surprise I liked it.
Tentatively, I reached down between us and touched Corey. I felt the same hardness in his pants that I’d recently had in mine. I knew what Corey wanted—what he needed, but suddenly there was a sound of voices close by and I shoved Corey away and did up my zipper before anyone had a chance to see what was going on.
“Let’s go back inside,” Corey suggested.
I thought about it. “Nah, I think I’m going home. My parents told me not to be out too late.”
“Okay. Can I give you my number? Maybe we can hook up sometime?”
“Yeah, sure.”
We exchanged phone numbers and I said good-bye without another glace.

At home, before I found sleep, I thought about his kiss and what we did by the shed. Corey was really hot and the things we’d done tonight felt so fucking good, but what would people think?  Was it worth a good lay to be labeled “gay”? I didn’t really care about Corey, even if he was hot. It was about sex. And if it was just sex, then going out with girls and hooking up with girls was much less complicated.
I grabbed my phone and texted Chrissy: Hey. Go to the movies with me next Friday?
A few minutes later she texted back: Of course!!!
I grinned in the quiet of my room and placed my phone on the nightstand. Chrissy was hot, and easy. I knew I’d end up fucking her next Friday night.
Nah, I’m not gay.

Chapter 1


I broke up with Chrissy through a text. ............ And the rest shall be posted as an excerpt on another day. Muahhahahaaha!


Comment. What do you think? Would you read it?

(Blogspot LINK for those reading this elsewhere: http://writerwadekelly.blogspot.com/2013/09/status-of-names-can-never-hurt-me.html)

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Omorphi BLOG tour updates

I love Cody so I'm supporting his new book the best I can. Follow the tour to find out more.

The tour started on September 15th so you missed some!

Follow Omorphi’s blog tour for three chances to win an ebook copy of Omorphi!

September 9th - True Colors
September 15th - The Novel Approach - Pre-release Q&A with Cody and a chance to win an ebook copy of Omorphi
September 18th - Author Will Parkinson - Will holds nervous Cody’s hand the day before Omorphi’s release because he promised to and Cody’s talks about Omorphi’s Cover and Bringing Omorphi to Life

September 19th - Mrs. Condit & Friends Read Books - Cody writes Perils and Pitfalls of Post Production Public Relations and a SECOND chance to win an ebook copy of Omorphi!
September 19th - Smile, Somebody Loves You - Announcement post and Cody shares Omorphi Trivia with Beverly and Tamara

September 20th - Author Shira Anthony - Why I write the kind of stories that I do by Cody
September 21st - Author Jamie Mayfield - Why Omorphi and A Broken Kind of Life are Same but Different
Also on September 21st - Harmony Ink Press on Facebook: Meet Cody Kennedy and Jamie Mayfield
September 22nd - Cody’s Blog - Tony Edmondson, Fan Extraordinaire, interviews Cody
September 27th - Author Wade Kelly - Character Interview with Christy Castle
September 28th - Author Iyana Jenna, Fairy Fan Extraordinaire, Q&A with Christy Castle
September 29th - Author Zoe Lynn - The Notes Behind Omorphi’s Play List
October 4th - Sid Love's Blog - Why the title Omorphi?
October 5th - Author Madison Parker - What makes Omorphi unique?
October 6th - Author John Ames - Q&A with Michael Sattler
October 11th - Boys on the Brink - Omorphi: Writing Sex and Violence in Young Adult works
October 12th - Author Jamie Fessenden - Cody shares Omorphi Trivia with Jamie
October 15th - Granny Irene - A week in the Life of Christy Castle before Michael
October 18th - Author Sara Alva - A week in the life of Michael Sattler before Christy
October 19th - Author Sam Kadence - Cody Talks About Writing Action and the Suspension of Disbelief
October 20th - Cody’s Blog - Omorphi's One Month Anniversary Trivia Contest and a THIRD chance to win an ebook copy of Omorphi - In order to enter this contest you must:
     1) have visited and commented on each stop on Omorphi’s Blog Tour - please be sure to leave your name in your blog comment. “Anonymous” comments won’t qualify; and 
     2) you must correctly answer the trivia questions posted on Cody’s Blog by placing your answers in the comments section beneath the questions; and 
     3) along with your answers to the trivia questions, you must leave a comment about Omorphi’s Blog Tour.
     The winner will be selected by Kismet, Cody’s greenwing macaw.
To make things even more exciting, a new contest will begin on October 21st on The Novel Approach Reviews Blog to win an ebook copy of Cody's novella, Safe, due out October 24th from Harmony Ink Press!

Nothing going on with me. I've gone quiet because I'm writing and editing. I wrote 900 words for LTLTA (Darian's book) last night because I had an hour and some quiet. I get very little quiet. I don't know about you, but my writing and creativity normally happens best when I have silence. I can't think when I have people asking me questions and yanking my thoughts out of my writing "world". I plan to write ALL DAY TODAY!!! I hope it happens. 


Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Suicide Prevention Day

According to Wikipedia, World Suicide Prevention Day is observed on September 10th every year. (I guess I missed it by a day.) This is a topic I have written about (suicide) because so many senseless deaths occur when people feel the hopelessness that hate produces.

I stole this picture from Zathyn Priest's FB page. I think it is all TOO common that people in the world "want to die." Why is that? What is going on in the world that causes a person to desire an end to it all? I don't know, and I don't understand it. BUT, I can surmise that the rising resistance and hatred pointed toward homosexuals is a large part. After all...

If these youths are on the streets because of family rejection, it does and WILL produce a hopelessness that leads to contemplating suicide. From my experience, and I am NOT an authority on much of anything, youths, whether 12, 13, 14-18, or 18-28 (these ages are not inclusive), often need love and guidance as they navigate this thing called life. Life is not easy for any of us. Is it? Throw in inexperience, hormones, and bad decisions and being young is not much fun. And if you are homosexual? And if you are rejected by your family because of it? How much harder does life get? We are not like animals who give birth and abandon our young to forage on their own. We are supposed to nurture our children and teach them how to live as adults. Life decisions are not easy. Start with school... SCHOOL is not easy. Ridicule, teasing, peer pressure, conformity, all play a part in a teen's life. Some resist it. Some find strength to overcome the pressures that middle school and high school produce, but some do not. SOME, start to drown in it. If they are lucky enough to make it out of their teen years and stumble into the adult work world, how does a young person survive without a support network of family and friends? I DON'T KNOW. Think about YOUR life if you had no family who loved you for who you were / ARE. Who do you go to with questions and seek for comfort at the end of a hard day? I fall to family and friends. 

Dispare drawn from hatred and rejection builds inside, often unseen. A constand struggle to get to the next day can often hit a wall and suicide becomes the "logical"answer. Release fromt he struggle. Release from the pain of rejection can seem so very logical even if those caught in the aftermath sit around wondering "why did they do that?" WHY? Sometimes there is no real logical reason. Sometimes it happens spontaneously when pain becomes a gigantic monster eating the person from the inside out. Suicide happens all the time. So what's the answer? I don't know. I'd say LOVE, but that seems trite.

LOVE is the answer for lots of things, but LOVING is not something we do easily. Do we?

Rejection can come in all forms. When a son doesn't live up to expectations, when a daughter gets pregnant all too early, when a child falls in with the wrong crowd parents can and do reject them with their disappointment and sarcastic comments as much as kicking them out onto the streets. Sometimes rejection doesn't result in homelessness. Sometimes the youths are still under the parents' roof and feel the ridicule through looks, touch, and silence. 

I write about suicide in When Love is Not Enough. Is it a hard read? Yes. Will it make you think? Yes. Will it answer all the questions as to WHY? No. I don't have all the answers. I can only create a picture of some of the reasons and some of the why? But through this book I have touched lives with questions. Readers have and still do e-mail with gratitude for this story that touches on the very same topics they live on a daily basis. People DO contemplate suicide, and some resist the temptation to execute it. But it is difficult. Some out there CUT. Why? Ask Darian Weston. Not sure there is a bottle answer for many of life's questions. People have differing pain levels, and thresholds of tolerance. What some might find the strength to overcome, others will feel it is way too much. My question is: Are they alone? And are they alone because their parents, their flesh and blood, wouldn't accept them for WHO THEY ARE? THAT is where the real tragedy starts.

The Cost of Loving is the sequel that details the aftermath of suicide. How it can affect the people who are left when a person dies. Do I have all the scenarios? No. This is fiction and my brain is finite. Do I answer all the questions in this book? No, I still have book 3 to write. Do all the actions of the characters make sense? I think they do. Are they logical reactions? Maybe, maybe not. I think people often react irrationally when hit with the death of a loved one. Will it all get ironed out in the end? I hope so. 

The Cost of Loving is still sitting at #9 on Dreamspinner's Best Seller List. I guess that means people are still buying it. Buying DIRECT from the publisher is WAAAY better for me as the author. There are more royalties involved. And they have things in stock almost always! Case in point, AMAZON was "temporarily out of stock" on paperbacks of The Cost of Loving. This is not good for me! How do people buy it is it is not in stock. It is basically their fault for not ordering enough from the warehouse. My advice- buy direct from DREAMSPINNER! :D

I guess that is my rant and ramble for the day. I have grammar class later AND a test. LOL. I hope I do okay. 

The death of my friend recently has had me thinking a lot on tragic death of youth. (He was 27). I worry that he was depressed due to family rejection of the "you still live in my house" sort. Not on the streets, but still feeling the "words" of rejection and hatred and disappointment for who he was inside. Very tragic.

Peace be with you,


Monday, September 9, 2013

Relying on God and Cody Kennedy

Although the sentence might seem like the two are connected, they are separate thoughts. (Sorry. Part of the reason I need help with grammar.)

Anyway... Relying on God refers to the fact that marketing and sales etc is hard. YES, there are loads of ways to market, but often they cost money and take TIME, which I have neither. So, my chosen option is relying on devine intervention to prompt people in ad around the world to purchase my books. I rely on readers who like my work to recommend it around. Word-of-mouth is the best way to spread good news. Although, if you hate my stuff, I'd rather you not tell people (haha.) Point is, I NEED readers to help me market. I am on Facebook. I'm on Twitter. I'm on Goodreads. But it takes time to dabble in all the social media site available. So I have to believe that if God wants my stores to be read (the ones he is giving me to write, as I told my therapist when she asked where I thought my stories came from and I answered "God",) then he has to help out in inspiring people to buy them. I can only do so much myself. I basically did nothing for JOCK and it was #1 for a LONG time. That was awesome and it got my name out there. People then picked up my other books. Right now, I'm working on writing another one. I think constant saturation of the market with my name and works is key, but I can only write so fast. So, if you liked my stuff, help me out and spread the word.

In an e-mail I got, a read wrote to me: "I have just read your books 'when love is not enough, and 'the cost of loving' I had to write to tell you how much i loved them and i mean really. They spoke to me on such a level its amazing,and had me relating,even though I'm a bit older than your characters are. i think i cried through most if the first book, and prob half of the second one too." 

It was very touching to hear and reminds me why I write to begin with. So thank you deeply dear reader!

As far as Cody Kennedy.... He's got a book coming out and a blog tour in the works. Coming soon! So this post is to gear you up for it.

Follow Omorphi’s blog tour for two chances to win an ebook copy of Omorphi!

September 15th - The Novel Approach - Pre-release Q&A with Cody and a chance to win an ebook copy of Omorphi
September 18th - Author Will Parkinson - Will holds nervous Cody’s hand the day before Omorphi’s release because he promised to and Cody’s talks about Omorphi’s Cover and Bringing Omorphi to Life
September 19th - Greedy Bug/On Top Down Under Reviews - Mr. Austro-Hungarian, a Young Adult, interviews Cody
September 19th - Smile, Somebody Loves You - Announcement post and Cody shares Omorphi Trivia with Barbara and Tamara

September 20th - Author Shira Anthony - Why I write the kind of stories that I do by Cody
September 21st - Author Jamie Mayfield - Why Omorphi and A Broken Kind of Life are Same but Different
Also on September 21st - Harmony Ink Press on Facebook: Meet Cody Kennedy and Jamie Mayfield
September 22nd - Cody’s Blog - Tony Edmondson, Fan Extraordinaire, interviews Cody
September 27th - Author Wade Kelly - Character Interview with Christy Castle
September 28th - Author Iyana Jenna, Fairy Fan Extraordinaire, Q&A with Christy Castle
September 29th - Author Zoe Lynn - The Notes Behind Omorphi’s Play List
October 4th - Sid Love's Blog - Why the title Omorphi?
October 5th - Author Madison Parker - What makes Omorphi unique?
October 6th - Author John Ames - Q&A with Michael Sattler
October 11th - Boys on the Brink - Omorphi: Writing Sex and Violence in Young Adult works
October 12th - Author Jamie Fessenden - Cody shares Omorphi Trivia with Jamie
October 15th - Granny Irene - A week in the Life of Christy Castle before Michael
October 18th - Author Sara Alva - A week in the life of Michael Sattler before Christy
October 19th - Author Sam Kadence - Cody Talks About Writing Action and the Suspension of Disbelief
October 20th - Cody’s Blog - Omorphi's One Month Anniversary Trivia Contest and a SECOND chance to win an ebook copy of Omorphi - In order to enter this contest you must:
     1) have visited and commented on each stop on Omorphi’s Blog Tour - please be sure to leave your name in your blog comment. “Anonymous” comments won’t qualify; and 
     2) you must correctly answer the trivia questions posted on Cody’s Blog by placing your answers in the comments section beneath the questions; and 
     3) along with your answers to the trivia questions, you must leave a comment about Omorphi’s Blog Tour.
     The winner will be selected by Kismet, Cody’s greenwing macaw.
To make things even more exciting, a new contest will begin on October 21st on The Novel Approach Reviews Blog to win an ebook copy of Cody's novella, Safe, due out October 24th from Harmony Ink Press!

This is just the first mention of the blog hop. More to come this week. Check back soon.

Wade :)


Friday, September 6, 2013

Words Matter

I have blogged often about WHY I write. Those who read my blogs have heard this before and I am sorry for the redundancy but my hope it that MORE people read my blogs now then before. IDK, maybe I am only talking to myself. (If not, please comment online, or in private message, *wink*) I write because I see things that go on in the world and I feel like I can’t sit back and do nothing. Case in point, see picture below:

Maybe some will view blogging as “doing nothing” since I hide behind my computer most of the time, but step by step I am striving to make a difference in people’s/reader’s lives and eventually in the people’s lives I interact with on a daily basis. Change takes time. Stepping out in faith that I will not get crushed again, takes time. I’ve hidden myself away for three years and denied what I think and feel out of fear. Fear of being myself, fear of saying things others will not agree with, and fear that someone will show up at my door and chastise me for having an opinion that hurts their feelings. (Or goes against their beliefs, because that happened before.) What I’ve learned is that people are capable of all kinds of hatful things. And they will even do them out of an attempt “to love”. But I often get the feeling these are the CONDITIONAL LOVE types of people. “I’m gonna love you, but you need to do the following….”

Well ya know what? Words matter. Words count. Words hurt.


I titled my series “Unconditional Love” because I am attempting to write a scenario of events in these characters lives, which mirrors things I observe in real life. Are they “actual” events or imagined ones? Some of both. I also take what I might experience (ie. Matt’s accident in TCOL) and I write it into my characters. I totaled MY truck exactly like Matt experienced in my book. I am trying to be real, and realistic. Sometimes, I might get it wrong. Whether it be from a lack of research or inexperience, I do get things wrong and I am sorry. My GOAL is to make readers think. If you are stuck on one detail and obsess about it, shoot me a e-mail. Ask me about it. Ask me if it happened to me, or if I even tried researching it. I WANT to deliver correct information! But I admit I am lazy and often do not dig deep enough to know what the heck I am talking about. And if the worst of the worst happens and I get the sex wrong – TELL ME!!!!! As you have discovered, I am NOT a man. There are some things I just won’t know. (Unless you tell me.) Side Note: I would have no problem discussing details of the same if some male person out there wants to set me straight. *another wink*

Another thing that has been on my mind is of a personal nature. Someone I know died this week. It was very hard to hear. He was young. 27. Taken from this world in more than likely a non-natural fashion. (Details of his death have not been released.) Mutual friends are hurting. I am hurting. And as in many deaths that occur in young lives, natural and unnatural, the people left behind have to deal with guilt. Guilt that questions, “Did I do enough? Was I a good enough friend? Did he know I loved him?” Because in the interest of expounding on the concept of “words matter”, I seriously doubt that some individuals in his life missed the fact that some words are hatful and can strangle a person even when they are delivered from a sense of wanting to help, or trying to love. It is out of that “conditional” love that we use words like fool, worthless, disgusting, and even worse: FAGGOT, FLAMER, FAIRY, DYKE, etc…

This song basically says it all. I can’t find the lyrics online, but I wrote down the ones I heard while listening. (Some could be incorrect.)

Define me, with all your words,
Then find me a lesson to be learned.
You can brand me or burn me, and I won’t let it hurt me.
Define me, as what I am,
And try me as just a simple man,
I’m no harm to you; I’m just doing the best I can.
And if I’m defined by what I do, then what am I supposed to call you?
The shadow of a broken path you abuse.
And if I can stand on my two feet, I’ll break the wall were we will meet,
I’ll document our combination for you.
We’re starting this party tonight, where people will be undefined,
And love who they want when the judgment is done and wont have to hide.
Starting this party right now, where people can shake off their doubts,
And send out their love as it moves through the crowd and people can shout:
That they love a man, or they love a woman,
And no one will be judged for love and I can’t be judged for who I am.
Define me with broad clichés, but I wont undergo any hate for a stranger’s mistake
I’ve struggled through the boundaries of societies needs, and now I’m not trying to please, it’s freeing.
Define me, as God’s child, I’m human, and here only a while, this Earth is as much mine as yours in the end, so let’s unite as friends.
And if I can lie in nature’s bed without the roses killing me dead, I think the Earth has got a point and we’re a moving joint.
And if I can say my prayers at night, I think I’m doing something right.
Let’s open up a song of safety and carry through the night.
We’re starting this party tonight, where people will be undefined,
And love who they want when the judgment is done and wont have to hide.
We’re starting this party right here, where people will shake off their fears,
And mass tolerance is replaced with resistance and everyone cheers:
That they love a man, or they love a woman,
And no one will be judged for love and I can’t be judged for who I am.
That they love a man, or they love a woman,
And no one will be judged for love and I can’t be judged for who I am.

I love it. And the video. 


I often disagree with they way parents “parent” their children. It is what it is, and I’m sure there are people who disagree with me too. But my personal mission and passion, (and this comes into play in my writing) is for homosexuals, homosexual children: teens or young adults, or older homosexual individuals who have felt the oppression and hatred for years. Personally, I do not think it is loving or kind to try to treat ANY person differently based on sexuality. People are people. Start there. Love based out of love. It grieves me to think some people, kids mostly, are out there thinking “God hates me because I’m gay.” Or simply, “There is something wrong with me.” And if those questions enter the mind, where are they coming from? Society? Parents? Church? Friends? People, especially kids, (and to ME that is basically anyone under 25, haha) need to know they are loved regardless of sexuality. Kids have a hard enough time trying to live life! I would never want to redo my youth. It was too hard. Young adults NEED parental guidance and LOVE. Sometimes kids make mistakes, sometimes they fall in love with the wrong people, sometimes they commit crimes, sometimes they take the wrong job, but they still need parents to help them and love them and guild them. Add to that example a gay son who is confused and lonely and lost. (or daughter.) Just because that son is gay doesn’t change the rules. A young gay man is STILL in need of guidance and love and support when it comes to love and life. And in this society, even more so! Personally, I don’t think it is a choice to be homosexual. I think you are born that way. (Maybe I’m wrong.) But NO ONE would choose a life of hatred, intolerance, and continual chastisement. I mean seriously, would YOU? WHY would anyone CHOOSE that?
Answer: they don’t. So why try to change people? I say love them for who they are. And Allow GOD to love them for who they are.

I’m stopping here. I have no desire to argue theology or sticking points in my belief system, or yours. But my biggest problem with the church today is the over abundance of CONDITIONAL love, and pointing the finger at everyone else. I do not think the “church” as an entity looks at itself very often. It if did, I think it would see the hypocrisy going on.

Anyway… I have probably rambled on too long, but I basically talk to myself anyway. (Me, and about 150 fans who MIGHT read this.)

I write to paint a picture of what I see in the world and to challenge it.

My challenge to YOU out there is to love people UNCONDITIONALLY. Embrace people. Get to know them as people. Gay, straight, tattooed, pierced, or even if they are wearing a plain white shirt with a tie, get to know the people in your life with out defining them with words. Or If you do, let the words be FRIEND, LOVER, CONFIDANT, FAMILY. We are all on this Earth together.