I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the WICKED SAVAGE WOLVES by Daniela Romero Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
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Friday, 28 January 2022
Wednesday, 26 January 2022
Your Midweek Update for 01/26/22
It turns out that ‘who I am without the fantasy’ is a woman dedicated to her work. I’ve been focusing on the day-to-day, trying to build new routines. Right now, that involves waking up later than usual but fairly consistently, showing up five minutes before my shift and leaving five minutes after, turning off my phone and going for a long drive until I get tired, then going back to my motel room, drinking a glass of whisky and going to bed.
Sometimes,
I’ll stop in another town – or at least neighbourhood – and kill someone. They’re
not particularly memorable kills but they released just enough endorphins to
get me through the next day. A stab here, a bludgeon then, I made one woman
drink windshield washer fluid before tossing her over a bridge. They’re not my
most creative kills but at least I’m doing something. I think that’s enough.
Why does
everything I do have to be creative and memorable? Why do I want to be
remembered or the best? Why can’t I just… be happy with what I have?
I mean
right now, I have fuck all, but in general: am I allowed to be happy? Is that
so much to ask? Can I just have one fucking week where my life doesn’t feel like
it’s fucking falling apart at my feet?
Why can’t I
be happy? I have my job, and my family, I’ve found my passion, I’ve felt
immeasurable loss. This means I get to be happy now, right? I’ve earned it. I’ve
earned some fucking peace and quiet.
I deserve
it. I know I do. So what do I have to do to get it?
It’s clear
that I can’t find what I need here. I need a change of scenery – a new
environment with no baggage attached.
I need to
take Casey and go.
I need to
leave tonight.
I need to
pack.
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
Tuesday, 25 January 2022
A Deleted Scene from Aur Child by I.S. Lee
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the AUR CHILD by I.S. Lee Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Wednesday, 19 January 2022
Your Midweek Update for 01/19/22
I thought I saw Jason the other day.
I was
picking up some groceries on my way back to the motel, and I just caught a
glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye, standing in the dairy aisle. He had
that shiny hair and ratty green coat that I know he took when he left. And for
a second – just a second – I thought I was seeing my boy again and I felt this
panic in my chest.
What if he
still resents me? What if he wants nothing to do with me? What if he screams
and throws things and tells the whole world that I’m a terrible mother?
I don’t
know if it would hurt more to know the truth or to never have my fears
confirmed. To just sit in “plausible deniability” for the rest of my life, all
the while knowing in my heart that I failed him.
More than
anyone else – more than Sandra, more than Casey, more than my sister – I failed
him because he doesn’t know… who I am, who we are, and he still hates me.
So, I hid.
I followed
him around the grocery store for what must have been twenty minutes before I
finally got a good look at his face. It wasn’t him. Of course, it wasn’t him.
He promised that I would never see him again and I believe it. But I still let
myself hope. I enjoyed the fantasy for a little while. That’s what this all is:
this blog, my family, my life.
It’s a
fantasy.
I can write
whatever I want and you’ll believe it because you have to. I kill because it’s
an escape from the things that are weighing me down. And my family is a strange
amalgamation of people who choose to be together out of necessity. We don’t
want to be together; we have to. Because being apart is so much worse.
Sandra is
gone. Jason is gone. Heather is gone. My sister is gone. And now James.
I feel my fantasy
slipping away from me.
I don’t
know who I am without it.
As always,
dear readers,
Tuesday, 18 January 2022
Excerpt of Compustible by Al Riske
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the COMBUSTIBLE by Al Riske Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Monday, 17 January 2022
Release Day for Blood and Fire by Kim Mullican
I am so
excited that BLOOD AND FIRE by Kim
Mullican is available now and that I get to share the news!
If you
haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book, be sure to check out all the
details below.
This blitz
also includes a giveaway for a kindle courtesy of Kim, & Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, check out the giveaway
info below.
Thursday, 13 January 2022
On Sex and Communication with Victoria Rogers
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the THE WITCH AND THE DREAMWALKER by Victoria Rogers Blog Tour hosted
by Rockstar
Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Except of Justice at Sea by Christian Klaver
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the JUSTICE AT SEA by Christian Klaver Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Wednesday, 12 January 2022
Your Midweek Update for 01/12/22
I don’t want to talk about it.
I can’t
talk about it.
Let’s talk
about something fun.
Like the
time I hit someone over the head with a champagne bottle and then jammed the
jagged edge into their chest and tried to pull out their heart like I was
separating an egg yolk.
Emphasis of
tried, unfortunately. It was incredibly difficult to remove the broken
bottle once I’d thrust it deep enough to hit the heart. Plus there’s all those
pesky bones in the way trying “protect the major organs from damage” – annoying
– so I didn’t go straight for the heart. I actually stabbed them in between
their ribcage and thrust upwards.
I
definitely latched on to something squishy but it just would not budge. So
disappointing. Can you imagine if I’d been able to remove their still-beating
heart by the jagged-edge of a bottle? It would have been so fucking cool.
It still
was. When a dog-walker found them, they were draped over a fence with the glass
protruding from their chest. The crime scene photos looked like a god-damned painting.
James brought some home for me to see, he was so proud
…
Anyways.
It was a
good kill, I was really happy with it.
Fuck.
I DON’T want
to talk about it.
I don’t
want to talk about it, I don’t want to feel it, I don’t want it anymore.
But I can’t
not think about it.
Every time
I close my eyes, I see his stupid face and I wish I could get rid of it – get rid
of him – but I can’t. He’s in here – in my chest – he’s a part of me and, like
every other organ, I can’t remove him.
Letting one
person have so much of my heart was a mistake.
Fuck. 2022
was supposed to be a better year. Our lives were supposed to be getting back to
normal.
I can’t
fall asleep at night. I’m so tired when I go to work and I can barely
concentrate. I need him and yet I can’t stand him. What am I supposed to do
now?
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
Monday, 10 January 2022
Excerpt of Huntress Prey by Selene Kallan
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the HUNTRESS PREY by Selene Kallan Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Thursday, 6 January 2022
Excerpt of Once Upon Academy Volume 2
I am
thrilled to be hosting a spot on the ONCE UPON ACADEMY VOLUME 2 Blog Tour
hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to
enter the giveaway!
Wednesday, 5 January 2022
Your Midweek Update for 01/05/22
I think some of you believe I don’t have a conscience or morals. I do. I have a set of beliefs that guide my thoughts and my actions. They just might not be the same as yours. I also think that we’re not all that different.
I believe in
moral particularism – that there is no one philosophy that dictate your life
but, instead, you should make every decision on a case-by-case basis. I believe
that you have a duty to yourself before all others. I believe that some people
don’t deserve to die but death is the one true equalizer. I believe that
promises should be kept – unless they harm you in some way. I believe that
family and relationships are cultivated through trust and commitment. I believe
that when that bond is broken, it can never quite be prepared.
I have my
own set of beliefs but they are beliefs all the same.
I will lie,
I will steal, I will rip a man’s eyeball out of its socket and make him eat it,
but I will never cheat.
I don’t know
if I could describe to you what the real difference is between lying and
cheating. Both involve deception and a breaking of trust but one simply cuts
deeper when something is gained from that lie. There is something worse about
putting your faith in someone and seeing them throw it away.
I’m hurt.
My heart
hurts.
I just want
to kill something.
But I can’t
kill him.
I’ve tried.
That very
first night, I had a pillow millimeters from his face but couldn’t do
it. We were in the kitchen and he turned his back to me and it would have been
so easy to stab him but I couldn’t. I know for a fact that the tire iron in my
trunk can crush a man’s skull with two hits. A few pieces of broken bone lodged
in his cranium and he would be dead in about an hour. And yet when I went to
grab something out of the car, I didn’t grip the iron tight enough. So many
poisons I could have slipped into his coffee. So many accidents I could have
caused. I want to rip his insides out, hang them on the trees like Christmas
decorations, and then light his shell of a body on fire so I can toast some
fucking marshmallows. But I can’t light the match.
I’m very
good and killing, you know.
But I can’t
kill him.
He’s the
one person I want to hurt and I can’t do it.
Maybe it
was a mistake to get married. It was only meant to be as a cover anyways. It
was always a manipulation.
I’ve left.
Not forever – Casey knows where I am so she can contact me if there’s an
emergency – but just for right now. I can’t kill him but I can’t look at him,
either. My image of him is tainted now and I don’t know if I even want it back.
It was a
mistake.
A stupid,
horrible, painful mistake.
The man who
has been my partner for thirteen years and I don’t know how to look him in the
eye anymore.
I don’t
know what to do without him but I wish I could kill him. At least then it would
be over. Because right now, all I’m doing is feeling and I can’t…
I can’t
breathe from the weight of it.
I think
some of you don’t think I have emotions – that I’m somehow broken and that’s
why I kill people. You have no idea how much I wish you were right, dear
readers. Emotions seem to be all I have left right now.
My usual
sign off doesn’t seem appropriate right now.
But please
do stay safe, dear readers. Stay as safe as you can.