Frosty and Frigid: An Excerpt

From playful to penetrating, Coco’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “I have plenty of bags left, but I have a proposition for you.”
“Really?”
His smile somehow possessed a smug edge Tatum didn’t find the least bit amusing.
“Yup.”
“What do you have in mind, Coco?”
“You let me help with this grinchy outlook you have about Christmas and for each success, I’ll give you ten bags of cookies.”
Hope flared in the center of her chest. Tatum set her mug down as Coco whipped out his towel and polished the absurd sticker-clad bar top.
“How many days are we talking?”
“Until you leave,” Coco said, back to her, preparing another cup.

It provided the perfect view of his ass, shoulders, and thick braid. Goddess, could she even get her hand around it? Tatum wanted to warp it around her knuckles while she pegge—
“Wait, until I leave?” Tatum questioned, finding his suggestion outlandish and horrid.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“It’s a snowy, ski town, what the hell is there to do here?”
He quietly considered her inquiry and gnawed on his lip. The fidgeting and silence concerned her.
“Weelll, this is Snowdrift. There’s lots to do during this time of year.
I can tell you who to see and where to go.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be helping me with this, Coco?”
He nodded with a tight grin. “Yeah, I am. I will. Because you need my holiday cheer, Tatum. You’re sorely lacking. But we’re gonna get you singing Christmas carols in no time.”
“I won’t be doing that.”
Coco giggled and shook his head. “To be so grumpy you sure are funny, Tatum.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Oh I know.”
Coco wiped counters and prepared a few more steaming drinks while Tatum muller on what she should do. Undiluted happiness was on the line, here. Coco basically had a knife to her throat. Those cookies changed the game and her life. For a short time k, they delivered what she’d missed for the last two years.
Tatum needed to take some home, and the only way to do that was to go along with his his stupid ass plan.
“Fine,” Tatum clipped. She gulped cooling magic in a mug and fought the sudden urge to hug Coco. He should be paid for this shit.

Coming Dec. 2026

Frosty and Frigid is a Christmas elf romance with a light heart. It’s MF with queer characters and fat positive themes. It’s low-conflict, spicy and still in draft! I’m so excited and can’t wait for you folks to read it.

What to expect:

Christmas magic

Cookie talk

Christmas cheer

Cookie and Peppermint kink

Hot chocolate

A romantic snowy setting in the mountains

Small town magic

Grumpy/Sunshine

Two elves falling in love

Black and Brown MC’s

Coming Fall 2025!!

F(40) AITA for dragging this stranger M(35) into my botched thieving mission? Listen, I got a bounty on my head, and I have a mystery package to deliver. I don’t even know what I’m doing. I work at a burger joint and live with my parents, but I wanted to do something HUGE for the family. Halfway into this thing, I now realize I wasn’t cut out for this criminal street life shit. I don’t have the stomach for it! He offered to help me! Is this life or death? Maybe. AITA for wanting protection, a free ride, and sexy times as well?

Something spicy, silly, and adventurous is on the horizon! Two idiots fall in love and try not to die in the process. This story is where monster romance, steampunk, and fantasy meet. I am super excited to introduce these two weirdos!

Here is a cute little moodboard!

MF steampunk fantasy romance moodboard depicting a Farris wheel, gold and blue eggs of some kinds, steampunk attire and the wide-open trail

The Unexpected Resurrection of Neon Red and its CWs

About two years ago, I gave Vella a try. It went absolutely nowhere. I don’t know, maybe it was my lack of marketing skills. Anyway, I took Neon Red down six months before Vella shuttered and said I’d release it on D2D or Smashwords. I can still do that. I’m still thinking about it, but I figured why not give Substack a go and see what happens. If it doesn’t pick up after about six months, I’ll bring it here. No big deal. I get more reads through FB than anywhere else anyway.
So, with that being said, I will post Content Warnings here. Neon red is a Dramatic Paranormal Romance. Keyword: dramatic. It’s dark, twisted at times, and messy.
The story follows four vampires. First up, there’s Maxine, a depressed, ninety-eight-year-old divorcée living at home. Then we have Low, a bodyguard intent on fucking up his career and personal life. And because I love chaos, there is Jaxon Aubrey, a genius accountant moonlighting as a drug lord.
Lastly, and not my favorite character, Tracy. Maxine’s father, Low’s boss, and Jaxon’s newest client.
Neon Red is the first in a three-book series I completed four-five years ago. It’s not my best work, but it is fun and enjoyable. I have been editing and tweaking since its Vella days, so it ain’t sooooo bad.
Neon Red is a journey some may not like, and others love. Keep in mind, again, this is a dark story with dark themes. I don’t condone drug use or selling, nor do I care for those who actively destroy lives. This is fiction, and trust, I do not glorify it. There are consequences for every action. If you follow along to the very end, you will see what I mean.
The main coupling is a fast-burning polycule. Mmf. Crossing swords and sloppy toppy for everyone! By everyone! I’ve said it many times, but all these characters are Bi or pan. No assuming, just know!
Also, Maxine and Low are Black. Jaxon is not; he is Irish. I suppose this makes it an Interracial and Black love romance. Neon Red is unapologetically Black, and some language will seem dated. That’s intentional. These are old ass vampires with decades behind and in front of them. Time moves differently when you’re immortal.

Without further delay, the CWs and trope card.

Off-page death of a parent, Depression Murder, Parental Neglect and Financial Abuse Trauma, Mild Gore Blackmail, Drug Selling, Drug Use (weed), Parental Abandonment, Mention of Religious Bigotry, Past Domestic Violence
Neon Red trope card includes Polycule dynamic, plus-size FMC, Secret Relationships, morally gray MCs, Paranormal Romance, Forced Marriage

Coming Spring 2025

Born into an apocalypse, The Huntsman knew a little something about death…but nothing, about babies.

On any other night, Carver would finish the bounty and get ghost. This was not one of those nights. After fulfilling a small contract, Carver stumbles upon a wailing child. In need of help and a babysitter, he seeks advice from the only decent person he knows. It just so happens that person is his closest friend and maybe, his greatest desire.

This is a 25k MM paranormal romance. We got spells, small conflicts, vampire feedings, wizardry, and adorable found family fluff. There are grey themes such as the death of a spouse, blackmail, and contract k–lings.

Spring 2025

Welcome Back To Indigo Plains

The brand new chapter for Patchwork and Pitchforks will be live on January 1st. Thank you for reading and happy new year

Helloooo! Yes, I am back with more Patchwork and Pitchforks! I have been writing it, I swear! I’ve just been juggling a lot, like self-doubt and impostor syndrome. I gotta tackle this monster in 2025! I have to subdue it! I must! And I will! Anyway, I want to post more and I plan on doing just that. This story is dear to me. I love these characters and where they’ve taken me so far. The world is bigger than I thought it’d be. Exploring every aspect will be fun, and hopefully, y’all like it too. Have a wonderful day and thanks for stopping by!

Chapter 2: In Which An Invitation Is Extended

Jasper

“Where is it? Wher—yes!” Jasper found her favorite scarf in a box titled ‘books’. There were books inside but also, non-book items. With a telling whimper, she scurried into the bathroom and tied the rainbow silk length tight. The bright, colorful theme continued all the way down to her boots.
Pink overalls made her hips pop. Jasper had no business trying to look put together. She was celibate! A sexless succubi was a thing of myth, but she was here to defy the odds. Sex, love, and companionship brought nothing but pain into her life.
Of course, when a handsome couple lusted after you it said something. She hadn’t lost her touch. Jasper still had what folks wanted. From the tips of her gold-tipped horns to the soles of her feet she was…she was…

Jasper stared at her reflection in a cruddy, broken mirror and sighed. She was still trying to find herself. Trying to recover tiny shards after a terrible ordeal.
A shrill ring and clatter made her flinch. Jasper rushed from the washroom and saw to her phone. She smiled at the photo and name.

“Kit?”
“Hay.”
“What’s up, lovebug?”
“I… well… Jasper, I quit!”
Her heart bloomed with warmth and hope. “Oh, my god. Kit you didn’t. Oh shit. You, when—quit?”
“Yeah, and Dad’s pretty mad. I—that would make two of us and well—he kicked me out.”

Jasper stopped dead and stared at her laptop. She had orders and shit to fulfill but holy hell, she was going through a lot. Tugging on her necklaces she nodded as Kit went on about their father’s lecture and anger. The Duke was mad and who cared. Not every demon belonged in hell. Not every demon knew how to harvest souls, make contracts, or even kill. Jasper didn’t and had never committed murder. Other demons treated her like a pariah.

“Okay, Kit?”
“Mhm?”
“You’re gonna stay with me. Of course. No questions asked.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to…”
Her brother mumbled as always, doubting his usefulness and station in her life.
“Yes! Now shut up and get over here. And hay—“
A heavy-handed knock had her jumping out of her skin.
“Just come right in, don’t knock. I’m having my house looked at. Don’t mind the mess and behave. Also, that fucking cat stays outsi—“
“He’s not a feral outside cat!”
“I don’t—“
A third knock put her in motion. “I gotta go. See you in a minute.”
“Kay. Bye.”

Jasper ended their call and jogged downstairs, forgetting about the warped wood. She slipped on the second to last step and stumbled into the vestibule. “Holy god damn.” She was a mess and in a hurry, it seemed. The Sunsides were attractive and soooo off-limits. She hadn’t participated in a threesome in years. Not that it was an option, because it wasn’t. Jasper set aside her obsession with vampires and her curiosity about Buck Sunside to open the door.

“Hayyy.” Jasper waved a hand. “Come in. And watch your step.”
“Forgive Buck,” Nieema said, crossing the threshold. She carried herself like a queen and resembled one. “He’s in writing mode. Ain’t no talking while he’s walking. I’m going to throw some things at him and he’ll jot it all down.”

Jasper scrunched her nose as Nieema turned up hers. She was a gorgeous Black goddess with obsidian skin and a shock of teal braids. They were bound in an elegant crown and suited her regal features.

“Water damage,” Nieema pipped, strolling into what might be formal living one day. Jasper loved the giant fireplace. “Mold damage. Termites are having a time wallowing in their rot. The floors gotta go. There’s a leak below. Solid bones, though.”
Nieema stomped twice and nodded.
“The foundation is crumbling, child. I can hear mice chattering in the walls and squirrels are in the attic. They’ve chewed through the wiring, I’m sure. I wouldn’t turn on a single light if I was you.’
“They don’t work,” Jasper added, though given the lanterns and fake candles, Nieema probably knew.

Buck followed his wife, scribbling every word. They traveled through the house, making Jasper dizzy. There was shit wrong she hadn’t even noticed. They conversed about what to do in the kitchen, leaving her to stare.
Buck was enormous. Taller than them both. Nieema was tiny, maybe five-two, so everyone was taller than her. But it wasn’t every day Jasper found a man over six-two. And he was at least six-three, perhaps five. His brawn caught her quick, but his mysterious nature and impeccable bone structure captured her attention. She found his down-home country attire funny next to the Mrs. Nieema dressed as if she fronted a metal band.
Corsets, chokers, matte lips, and the color black. Yesterday it was a corset dress. Today it was leather pants. Her bottom—

“Jasper? Hello?!”
“You expecting somebody?” Buck asked.
“Shit, Kit. I’ll be right back.”
Jasper hightailed it out of the musty pantry to see about her brother.

Buck

The house was a piece of shit. On a quiet, cozy street it was an eyesore. Boarded, abandoned, and inhaling its last breath. Buck smelled rot and decay. The wood swelled and them termites, yeah. They were eating good. Mother fuckers. Nobody should be living in this house. It was one light breeze away from collapsing. He heard every creak, groan, and snap. Beams screamed under their weight and bolts rattled.

“She shouldn’t be staying here, mama.”
“I was about to say the same. This place is a ruin. I’m wondering how much Hawk Shade got outta her. It ain’t worth more than ten thousand. Knowing his greedy ass he milked the poor woman.”
“You know it too.”

Buck opened a crooked cupboard door and let it slap to a close. Her house was in dire need of an overhaul. There wasn’t shit worth repairing, everything had to go. Down to the nails.
Jasper’s voice was a nice distraction. She entered the kitchen with a stout young man who was much older than he appeared. He cradled an ugly, fat, hairy cat and shook his head.
“What a—Jasper are staying here? It smells terrible. I can taste the mildew. I can get sick. My chest feels funky…”

Nieema hummed in her way and twirled, facing the duo. They were kin, Buck saw it in the eyes. As his wife dallied and pulled on a wobbly drawer, he got to thinking.
“This fella is right, don’t ya know.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Well…” Nieema examined the sink and clucked her tongue. “It’s a health hazard, a health violation. I wouldn’t allow nobody to stay up in here, much less let you buy the place. The realtor was wrong, Jasper. Now, if you want us to fix the house fine. But I can’t imagine y’all staying here overnight. I know you demonic and all, but it smells nasty, looks worse and where is this man gonna sleep? Like I said, I can—“

The second a Wicker Spider come bursting through the floor, Buck pushed the soft fella into the pantry and slammed the door. The eight-legged beast was foul, quick, and mad as a wet hen. They clawed for Jasper who had jumped on the counter.
Nieema was bucking on the fucker like the rodeo goddess she was.
“Don’t worry, mama! Imma—“ He spotted a cast iron skillet in a box and snatched it. The creature with razor thorns lining each limb flailed about and lunged at him. As Jasper screamed and the man in the closet cried, Buck bashed the thousand-eyed freak in the head. “That’s it, baby! Get that sucka!”
Nieema tore into its gray, fibrous exoskeleton. “Don’t let it scratch you!”
“WomanI been fight—“

He danced with the screeching as it tried and failed to throw his wife off. With a final blow, he called every root beneath and above. Vines, nettles, brambles, and barbed boughs fractured planks and studs. They snaked through wallpaper, around rusted pipes, and weaseled through outlets.
From below and behind, branches and trunks pierced the giant bug, spraying guts everywhere.
Nieema shred them to bits until it collapsed in a heap and wheezed. Their neon green eyes flickered and died as its vitality waned.

“Well at least there won’t be much to dismantle up in here.”
Nieema laughed and Buck rushed to her aid. He helped his sweet darlin’ down off the beast.
“Don’t be funny, Buck. She’s terrified.” Nieema extended a gentle hand and Jasper squeezed it. She helped the shaken woman onto her feet. “I think you got more than a termite infestation. Which is even more reason for you and the—“
Jasper cursed and waved at the mess Buck done made.
“My brother!”
“Oh my. Honey, I am sorry. Buck, get the man outta there!”
“Yes ma’am.”
Buck, thanks to his Drendt side, had a way with nature and a strong connection plants. The mess of thorns, sticks, and needles parted for him like any pair of curtain might. He rushed to free poor boy.

“Oh my god is that Wicker Spider?!” Jasper;s kin balked, holding their cat close.
“Mhm.”
“How did it get here?”
“Probably migrated or was brought over by a no good sumabitch. You let these heffas start making babies and you’ll be in a world of trouble. They love meat, ya know?”
“Meat?”
The man was sweating now, and that cat was a fuckin’ mess. His deep brick complexion was washed and damp. Given how his horns were sawed down Buck would wager he wasn’t no killing demon.

“They sure not herbivores,” Nieema said. “Now, seeing as your kitchen is gone and we don’t know if this thing has created a nest, I think you should stay someplace else.”
Jasper nodded as she tugged her brother’s arm. She looked him over and agreed. “Okay. Yeah. Whatever. We’ll get a hotel and—“
“Didn’t nobody say nothing about a hotel, Missy.”
Jasper whipped her head around. “Wait, what?”
“We have more than enough room on our ranch.”
“Nieema, I—“
“That’s settled. Come on now. Get a bag and let’s get going. I got ox tails and rice on the menu.”
Jasper looked to Buck, as if he’d intervene. First of all, what Nieema says goes. And second, he wanted and needed to know her better. This was a fine invitation and beneficial for everyone involved. He smiled and nodded, his wife was never wrong about these things.

Patchwork and Pitchforks

Be prepared for fluff, steam, romance, and paranormal happenings!

After Jasper Marrow relocates to Indigo Plains she’s prepared for paint, hammers, and broken nails. What she finds on moving day is more than she cares to deal with. Busted pipes, growing mold, and an eager-to-please married couple offer too much excitement for one night.

All Jasper wants is her new-ish house fixed and perhaps exorcised. When the happy duo extends a helping hand and free temporary housing, she has no choice but to accept.

This isn’t close to what I normally write, but I wanted something cute on Whitney Houston’s internet. I’ve been trying to do light and fluffy for months. And I don’t know, I thought why not put it out there.

Himbos Have Nerve

One thing I love most about himbo characters besides their blissful, confident ignorance is their wisdom during heated moments. They transform into arrogant intellectuals who have the answers to all your more personal problems.
Scrap may not know the difference between temperature and temperamental, but he knows enough, honey.
After forty years of never getting there, Zion is about to learn what, ‘reach the mountain top truly means.

Shifter Cotton Candy

I’m not taking this book seriously at all. It’s cute, fun and sexy. Just a little 25k novella. Nothing too much. It’s a release, a cleanser, a break, and freedom. Low plot, cozy, and warm. Letting other ideas flow and float while writing a series saves my sanity.
This one doesn’t even have a title yet. A himbo lamia (MMC/35), and a chameleon shifter nerd (FMC/40) have crossed paths thanks to the FMC escaping death. I have no idea where they’re going, but I know the FMC has to stay alive long enough for me to find out. Two idiots falling in love. My favorite trope.
Zion and Scrap! Sitting in a tree, K.I.S.S my ass to everyone who tries to gatekeep when it comes to older FMCs and romantasy!