Book Blast, Uncategorized

Book Blast: Dragon’s Eye, Lexi Ander

Mithra and Verethragna

Mithra and Verethragna aren’t from the Sumerian Period of history. I was searching for Persian fables when I stumbled upon them while reading Myths of the World, the Illustrated Treasury of the World’s Greatest Stories—you’re going to hear me reference that book a couple of times over the tour because it had myths that inspired several characters in Sumeria’s Sons. Back to what I was saying—I came across Mithra’s Trusty Guardian. “In his martial guise he [Mithra] was protected by the fearsome warrior god Verethragna.” I couldn’t help myself. I totally shipped them. The Zoroaster wouldn’t approve. These two are great heroes, persons of divinity in the Avesta, and I sprinkled them with a little bit of smutty thoughts, eluded to of course. Verethragna is called Mithra’s consort in the series and that’s it. (No smexy page time for them!)

As a mighty warrior, Mithra’s weapon of choice was a famed one hundred-sided mace. I still have a problem picturing what that looks like. Not that I don’t know what a mace is, but the hundred sides would make the thing huge.

Mithra was the Zoroastrian angelic godhead of the Covenant and Oath. He came with an exhausting list of titles: the Divinity of Contracts, an all-seeing Protector of Truth, the Guardian of Cattle, the Harvest and of The Waters, Mithra of Wide Pastures, of the Thousand Ears, of the Myriad Eyes, the Lofty, the Everlasting the Province Ruler, the Divinity of the Spoken Name, Who Sleeps Not, Who has Wide Knowledge, the Holy… seriously, the list went on forever. In short, he was thought very well of. I used only one aspect of Mithra in Sumeria’s Sons, that of the guardian of the khvarnah or Divine Glory that bestowed legitimacy to kings. I didn’t want him to overshadow the other gods and goddesses in the series. His role to the plot was important and essential but the era that Mithra was most popular in came later, around the 300 B.C.E. when the gods were either angelic or daevas (demons/monsters). I didn’t want that perception for the series so kept Mithra’s role to a minimum, eschewing all his other identities.

Verethragna’s name meant “smiting of resistance” and was the foundation of the Persian word for “victory”. He was described as highly armed and best equipped. He was in never-ending struggles with men and daemons, but his sphere of influence went beyond battles. References indicate that he was a healer and could pass on virility, but unlike other pantheons where the gods of sexual potency were equated to creation gods, Verethragna wasn’t. He could take on other forms. You already know about the boar and obviously an armed warrior, but he could be a boy of fifteen, a ram, a wild goat, a bull with horns of gold, a horse with ears and muzzle of gold, a bird of prey, a camel in heat (LMAO! I guess this is part of the virility.), and an “impetuous” wind. You got me on that last one. If I ever use Verethragna again, the list of his forms definately gives me fodder to play with.

Mithra’s protector interested me because one of his mighty forms was that of a boar that was girded in iron on his legs, hooves, teeth. I was like, “How scary could a wild pig really be?” If you read Surrounded by Crimson, Tristan had that same thought. When a modern day person thinks of a pig, the image is usually of the big pink ones that roll around in muddy wallows. Some people keep pigs as pets and I’ve read more than one article about how smart they are. What was there to be afraid of? Then I came across the article about the wild boars that were imported to the United States and used in Louisiana for exotic hunts. Now the state has a huge problem because they have herds of a hundred or more that roam the countryside and devastate vegetation and farms. They’ve caused hundreds of millions in damage and they have killed people. They have a plate of cartilage under their skin that is two to three inches thick that keeps bullets from penetrating into their core. Not kidding. They are aggressive, and frightening, and they made me rethink my, “pigs aren’t scary,” stance.

A huge thank you for allowing me to be a guest on the blog today! Throughout the blog tour for Dragon’s Eye, I hope you enjoy the behind the scenes look at the gods and mythos, and how they play a part in Sumeria’s Sons. For a visual representation, please visit my Pinterest page. ( During the tour I discuss the Sumerian pantheon, about who and what the Gods/Goddess are, and how I use them. Make sure you stop by the other blogs to get a complete look at the Gods and Goddess the Lycan’s follow.

Also, Less Than Three Press is running a special sale on Sumeria’s Sons from September 23rd  through October 7th (dates inclusive).

Twin Flames is $0.99.

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25% off Songs of the Earth

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25% off Dreams of the Forgotten


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25% off Surrounded by Crimson


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Thank you for stopping by and reading!


In the wake of birth and betrayal, Ushna takes the God Ashur to Tristan in a last desperate bid to save Tristan’s life—and is helpless to do anything but watch as Ashur instead buries him in a grave. Though he has no desire to go on living, having now lost Brian and Tristan, Ushna has no choice. Not only do their children need him, the mysterious Simurgh has come out of hiding and forces him to continue on—for there is much to do and little time to do it, especially with treachery and danger closing in on them from every side.

Exclusive Excerpt #5

Climbing out of the vehicle, I met my mother’s watery eyes. Without hesitation, she came to me, her hands cupping my face briefly before she turned her gaze to the bundle I held. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She was my mother and I her child, whom she knew well. I wanted to confess to her that I didn’t believe Tristan was gone, that I could still sense him, but there were too many ears about. My confidence, my trust in those around me, was brittle. Someone not only jammed communications on Nathan’s grounds but also planted a blood trail to lure Tristan into a trap. Until I could be certain of people on the estate, I’d keep my speculations to myself.

As if sensing I barely held myself together, her shoulders straightened, and though her eyes were red-rimmed, she didn’t cry. “The nursery has been prepared. Corey said we had an unexpected third pup so Nathan brought down Tristan’s crib from the attic.” She paused and blinked several times.


Chapter One


The God Ashur followed behind me carrying Tristan, whose body was battered and broken. The cry of our newborn pups preceded me. Their birth was supposed to be a wondrous occasion, but through treachery and lies, that was stolen from us. Instead of enjoying the happy moment, I feared Tristan was dying.

There was so much blood. The damage to his body overwhelmed my senses. I was afraid if I didn’t keep my eyes on him, if I turned my back for a second too long, his Flame would slip away. We ran through the cursed caverns that wouldn’t allow me to touch my wolf or feel the song of the earth. Ashur’s harsh commands to hurry spurred me on faster but I had to look behind me, I had to see with my own eyes that Tristan was still with us, still fighting.

The scars… I couldn’t care less but Tristan might. I vowed I would spend the rest of my life showing him how beautiful he was to me—but first we had to get him out into the open.

I glanced back. “Hurry, Ashur.”

The corridor seemed much longer than when we’d come in. Glancing over my shoulder again to ensure Ashur followed closely, my impatience caused a snarl to rumble in my throat. Tristan’s skin was a gray-blue, stark and sickly against Ashur’s rich mahogany tone. With every passing moment, we were losing him.

“Please.” I don’t know if I begged Ashur to go faster or if it was a plea to the Gods to spare Tristan’s life.

When we entered the darkened corridor carved from the bedrock, I heard Tristan sigh. For months, he’d been teaching me how to listen to the Earth and I could practically feel her rush to him. I climbed the stairs, my foot slipping on the wet step in my hurry to get outside.

The open air had never smelled so good, filling my lungs with the scents of life. My wolf stirred, frantic for our mate. I reached to take Tristan from Ashur, but he dodged my grasp, moving off to the side. His low voice had a musical tone as he chanted in a language I didn’t recognize and next to him, a hole formed in the ground.

“What are you doing? You said all we had to do was get him outside!” Why was Ashur not singing the song for healing? I reached again to take Tristan from Ashur’s arms. Tristan was teaching me the complex chant, but Ashur was Tristan’s tutelary. He knew what to ask the Earth for and how. Why was he not begging her to save Tristan’s life? She wouldn’t say no. She’d never say no to Tristan because she adored him.

It took a moment for the haze of my frantic thoughts to subside enough to realize Ashur was talking and then another for me to process the meaning of his words. What did he mean he couldn’t restore Tristan’s health?

With rising alarm, I said, “You’ve been teaching him how to sing to the Earth. Why can’t you do that now?”

Ashur dodged me, laying Tristan in the hole atop the dark loamy soil. Something eased in me seeing Tristan in contact with the ground, although the Earth didn’t rush up to him as I’d expected. She never missed an opportunity to touch him… until now. Instead, I felt power build until my bones ached and the snakes on my chest writhed in discomfort.

Staring down, I searched for the source of the energy, sure that at any moment, whatever it was would show itself. My gaze continued to return to Tristan with his ruined eyed, his torso ravaged and gaping. Never had I seen him so vulnerable, so small, the very sight calling to the caretaker within me.

Tearing my gaze away, I confronted Ashur who was pleading with me. “I teach him the songs but She doesn’t respond to me.”

An ancient sadness shone in Ashur’s visage but I didn’t care. I had trusted him to save Tristan. Never before had I been filled with such useless rage. I didn’t understand what Ashur was saying. Who was he talking about? The Earth? He was the king’s tutelary, so why wouldn’t the Earth answer his call?

Desperation rose up and I barked, “Why the fuck not?”

“Because I took the wrong side in a war, now I’m forever separated from Her.”

What did that have to do with the here and now? What did it matter he’d lost something or someone? My Tristan was dying and all he could do was talk. Ashur’s pleading gaze held mine and I suddenly understood. I glanced back down at Tristan, lying in a bed of fresh dark soil.

A grave.

“No! You cannot mean to do this. He’s not dead!” I jumped into the hole; Tristan’s single eye stared at me with clarity, despite the state of his body. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath. There was still time. I could save him.

With the strength of the God he was, Ashur wound his arms around my waist and easily hauled me away from Tristan.

I went mad.

I fought, screamed and begged. First Brian and now Tristan. How was I to stay behind? I pleaded with Ashur to allow me to go with Tristan. We’d travelled through the Earth together before, we could do it again. I could sing to the Earth and beg for Her help.

It wasn’t too late.

Then Ashur chanted and the soil covered Tristan, taking him from my sight. I roared with fury, thrashing and clawing at Ashur’s hands. I vowed vengeance for this act of betrayal. Silently, Ashur held me as I beat and wailed upon him, trying to free myself from his steely grasp. He whispered continuously, “I am sorry but this had to be done,” in my ear. Tears of grief stained my cheeks and I hated him all the more because it didn’t have to be like this. He had no right to take Tristan from me.

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Book Blast: Beauty & The Beast Sean Michael


As a rhino shifter, Tromp knows that he’s not the sexiest beast in the world. In fact he’s clumsy and he can’t see very well, and that’s whether he’s in his human or animal form. Still, he enjoys going to the bar and watching the other shifters hooking up, especially the dancers. Then he sees a slinky kitty dancing on the little stage and he’s immediately smitten. He knows a sexy beauty like that would never go for him, but he’s happy just to watch and fantasize about what could be.

For his part, panther shifter Pepper might be gorgeous on the outside, but he knows most people see him as nothing more than a piece of meat and he’s had a hard past. There’s something in the way the big rhino shifter looks at him while he dances, though, that makes him feel special. So when his stint on the stage is over, he heads right to the rhino’s table.

Can Tromp and Pepper ignore the world’s expectations and find what they need in each other?


Tromp got his beer at the bar and made his way over to the table in the corner where he usually sat. It was an out of the way booth and afforded him a good view of the rest of the place. His thick bottle-cap glasses improved his poor vision enough that from here he could watch the pretty people hooking up—the slinky twinks finding each other or handsome older men to dance and laugh with. He was a bit too lumbering for dancing. Too clumsy and grumpy for easy pickups, too. In short, he didn’t really belong. Hence the out of the way table.

The music was loud and thumping, vibrating up from the floor, and his beer was cold. It was all he really needed after a long week of walking around the three warehouses he worked security on. He’d stay and watch for a while, then head home to the peace and quiet of his little cottage just outside the city.

Someone came out onto the tiny stage, one of the performers who danced in stretch jeans and open-front shirts. This guy had waist-length black hair, golden skin, and sharp features.

Tromp watched, utterly fascinated. He usually didn’t do more than admire the beauties who were out of his league, but there was something about this guy, something slinky and sexual that made him want in the best way. Or worst way, given that he never had a chance with the beautiful ones. Still, he could look his fill, couldn’t he? After all, that’s what the dancers were all about—looking but not touching.

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Meet the author:

Often referred to as “Space Cowboy” and “Gangsta of Love” while still striving for the moniker of “Maurice,” Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the kama sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to “Chicago.”

A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.

Barring any of that? He’ll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.


Book Review ~ Beauty and The Beast, Sean Michael


Find the book here: ARe, Amazon

I love love love a good shifter story and I love a good underdog story.

This story delivered.

It’s always nice to start out reading a story knowing what the word count is – at 10K, I knew this was going to be quick so I didn’t expect a lot of back story. However, Sean Michael in all is awesomeness packed in a lot of info, a cute story, hot sex, and a whole lot more into this short story.

Tromp is absolutely adorable, and I loved that he was shy, but when he needed to, his protectiveness came out.
I think I will add this to my list of “stories to read when I need to smile.”

Bottom Line: Read it. Once. Twice. Three times. It will never get old and will always make you smile.

Tiny Tiny Tiny Complaint – I wish it was a full length story because I could definitely read 60K words about Tromp and Pepper.

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Book Blast: Sex, Love, and Videogames by Cjane

SexLoveVideogamesFSToday I’m very lucky to be interviewing CJane Elliot author of Sex, Love, and Videogames

Hi CJane, thank you for agreeing to this interview. Tell us a little about yourself, your background, and your current book.

Hi there! Thank you for giving me a chance to share my newest book, Sex, Love, and Videogames, the third novel in the Serpentine Series. Each book is a standalone but the series has recurring characters. Sex, Love, and Videogames is the story of Jed Carter, who we first met in Serpentine Walls, and Charlie Ambrose, a new character to the series.

1)      Describe your book to us.

Sex, Love, and Videogames in the third book in the Serpentine Series but can be read as a stand-alone. It is a new adult, contemporary story set in part at the University of Virginia and in part in an African American community in Charlottesville. The two main characters come from different worlds: Jed Carter is white, belongs to a fraternity, and plays on the university rugby team. Charlie Ambrose is biracial, a townie, and an artist. But both of them are shy and both of them long for an intimate connection that is real. A secondary plot centers on Charlie’s cousin Morocco. She’s trans and part of the book deals with her struggles to live true to herself in the face of transphobia and misunderstanding from her family and the world in general.

2)     Have you ever read something that made you think differently about your genre? Can you tell us what it was?

The more I read in the m/m genre, the more I discover the possibilities for what kind of stories can be told. There are the pure romance writers who give us delight and comfort reads. I don’t need to name them because they’re the most popular in the genre. But then there’s a writer like Suki Fleet, who deals with dark subject matter but writes so exquisitely that I’m left shaking my head at the beauty of the prose. There are writers like Jordan Hawk and Kim Fielding who manage to make me love paranormal characters and show that a satisfying romance can occur in the strangest of circumstances. And writers like Michael Rupured who writes historical m/m fiction which entertains as much as it enlightens. And L.C. Chase taught me so much about the rodeo in her rodeo trilogy that when I went to one in real life, I actually knew what was going on!

3)     Tell us about your character’s family life?

Charlie Ambrose is the child of an African American father, Lamont, and a white mother, Alicia. Lamont died when Charlie was six and Charlie has been  raised in his father’s large extended family, which is presided over by its matriarch,  Granny Myrt. Charlie’s mother, Alicia, doesn’t fit in with the Ambroses, but she loves Charlie and stays in Charlottesville for him. The Ambrose family is tight. As befits a Southern family, they’re “in each other’s business” while at the same time not mentioning uncomfortable subjects (like the fact that Charlie is gay and his cousin Morocco is trans). Charlie and Morocco are best friends and look out for each other. Charlie is pretty lucky with the amount of love he’s experienced from his family.
Jed Carter also has a loving family. He is the child of Leo and Meg Carter and was raised with one older brother, Kent, in a DC suburb called Centreville. Kent is extroverted and a natural leader, so Jed has grown up in his shadow. Kent expects Jed to follow his lead in all aspects of life and one of Jed’s struggles as he comes of age is to break away from Kent’s influence and become his own person. His parents are loving and accepting. Jed’s coming out process is easy with them and not so easy with Kent.

4)     Compare yourself to your main character.

Both Charlie and Jed are shy introverts, which describes me as a child and teen. I started coming out of my shell in my late teens and early twenties, which is exactly what happens to Charlie and Jed. I also relate to them in their desire for true connection and a relationship that is “real.” Otherwise, I’m not very like them. Sports was never my thing and my sisters who have played Pictionary with me can tell you I’m a terrible artist.
5)     Describe your past week as a type of landscape or a weather forecast.

Gathering storm clouds on the horizon, only because I had so much to accomplish. I’m in edits for two new releases, doing the Sex, Love, and Videogames blog tour, and preparing to go to Gay Romance NW meet in Seattle. At the same time, I’m working almost fulltime at my real-life job, last Wednesday was my son’s 20th birthday, and yesterday we attended a funeral for the husband of a good friend. No wonder I’m beginning to get a cold.

However, I can see the sun beginning to peek out from behind the clouds. I love my life, as busy as it is. And I’m jazzed to be going to Seattle this coming week and spending time with m/m writers and readers.

Shy guy Jed Carter has always felt invisible next to his charismatic older brother, Kent. Kent’s master plan for Jed is simple: University of Virginia, business, sports, and ladies’ man. None of it is Jed, except for playing on the rugby team, which he joins in defiance of soccer-loving Kent. Jed comes out in his sophomore year and starts seeing Pete, an attractive junior, who uses him for sex and videogames. Jed wants more—in life and in love—and starts making his own plans. First on the list: getting to know Charlie, the handsome guy working at the local videogame arcade.

Charlie Ambrose has always felt like an oddball, and not just for his tendency to stutter. Being gay sets him apart from his African-American community, and as a “townie,” he doesn’t fit in with the college crowd. Charlie’s inspiration is his cousin, Morocco, who’s transgender and doesn’t give a fig about fitting in. Art is Charlie’s passion, and when a local videogame designer discovers him, Charlie’s living a dream. The only thing he’s missing is love. But the last person Charlie expects to find it with is a cute, white U.Va. rugby player named Jed.


“Okay, warm up laps!” Beau led the rugby team in a slow circuit around the perimeter of Mad Bowl. After a few laps, he stopped and had them do stretching exercises.

The other team did their warming up, and when they moved to take positions, Jed noticed a pair of people standing on the sidelines. His breathing stopped for a second. Charlie stood, hands in his pockets, shifting from foot to foot, while Morocco, a vision in a pink track suit, set up a camp chair (apt name, that) and sat down. Morocco saw Jed looking and waved. Charlie turned and gave a small wave himself, and Jed waved back, heart beating faster.

“Who’re they?” Bud asked, squinting over at them.

“Um, Charlie’s a guy who works at Lucky’s. In the gaming area. And the other is his cousin.”

“Hmm. Townies?”


“She’s cute.”

“Um, well, about that….” Jed cut himself off because the referee blew the whistle. Time to play ball and hope he did well in front of those two.

The game proved the usual testosterone-fest, with lots of grunting and body contact. When Jed scored some points, Morocco produced pom poms that matched her outfit and waved them wildly.

At the break, Jed ran over to them for a minute to say hi—fuck what the rest of the team thought.

“Jed, child, my word!” Morocco fanned her chest. “Y’all are such manly men! Rugby is going to be my new obsession, I just know it!”

“I like it. My mom never let me play contact sports in high school, so I kinda love ramming into people.” Jed felt his cheeks flame at what he had said. Crap-a-doodle.

But Morocco laughed and Charlie faked a cough so he could smile behind his fist.

“So, hey, thanks for coming. I gotta go back now.”

Charlie nodded as Morocco said, “We’ll see you after the game.” She picked up her pom poms. “Wa-hoo-wa!”

When the team huddled before the second half, a homophobe named Welburn said with a sneer, “Who are those freaks on the sidelines?”

Another guy laughed. “Yeah. I thought all the he-shes lived in San Francisco.”

“What’re you talking about?” Bud peered over toward Charlie and Morocco. “That girl?”

Welburn spit on the ground. “That girl is no she. She’s a he. What the hell are they doing here?”

Beau raised his voice. “Hey, concentrate, guys. We need to win this game.”

Jed held up a hand to stop Beau from continuing. “Before we do that, you all need to know that those are some friends of mine. So shut your fucking faces before I shut them for you.” He leveled a lethal glare at Welburn and his compatriot.

Fueled by his anger, Jed played an amazing second half, and the team pulled out a victory on the strength of his points alone. After their team high five, he trotted over to Charlie and Morocco. Charlie smiled broadly while Morocco jumped up and down. “Jed, Jed, Jed! Wa-hoo-wa! Thass right!”

“Okay, okay.” Jed couldn’t help laughing at Morocco’s outrageous enthusiasm. “Thanks for coming to the game.”

“It was fun. I’m glad we came.” Charlie took a step back, seemingly surprised to have gotten two stutter-free sentences out.

“I’m glad too.” They gazed tentatively at each other, and Morocco suddenly got busy folding up the camp chair.

Where can you buy the book?

About the author:
After years of hearing characters chatting away in her head, CJane Elliott finally decided to put them on paper and hasn’t looked back since. A psychotherapist by training, CJane enjoys writing sexy, passionate stories that also explore the human psyche. CJane has traveled all over North America for work and her characters are travelers, too, traveling down into their own depths to find what they need to get to the happy ending.

CJane is an ardent supporter of LGBTQ equality and is particularly fond of coming out stories.

In her spare time, CJane can be found dancing, listening to music, or watching old movies. Her husband and son support her writing habit by staying out of the way when they see her hunched over, staring intensely at her laptop.

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Book Blast: If I Were Fire, Heloise West

ifIwereFireI am so happy to be featuring Heloise West today!
Heloise is the head of my super awesome crit group and I wouldn’t be doing any of this writing stuff if it weren’t for her 🙂

Blurb: In 18th century Siena, Count Salvesto Masello returns home to find the family villa and his father’s estate deeply in debt. In order to save it, he sells valuable heirlooms, but he is running out of silverware. Somewhere in the villa, his deceased father has hidden the art treasures that will pay the debt—but Salvesto can’t find them anywhere.

Amadeo Neruccio has been on the run from the vicious pimp, thief, and pawnbroker Guelfetto, whose toughs finally catch him and bring him to the cellar where Count Masello is selling off his silver. When the count learns what fate Guelfetto has in store for Amadeo, he intervenes, and trades the last of his mother’s dowry for the young man’s freedom.

Salvesto left home over ten years ago to live the life of adventure he craved and leave his broken heart behind. When he rescues Amadeo, he does not expect to find love again—or the start of his next adventure.

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Book Blast: Fiery, Alyssa Astra


Aiden Adams, a transgender teen, begins writing in a journal when he moves to a new town named Ashmore and begins “passing.” He is counting on everyone to believe that he is the every bit the male he appears to be. Writing in his journal helps him unclog his brain as he writes about the daily struggles he faces as a transgender teenager, his painful past that he is trying to forget, the new friends he is making, and the beautiful girl named Abby whom he has fallen in love with. Aiden has already come out to his open-minded mother, but will Abby be just as understanding?

When Aiden loses his journal, he worries that the secret he is trying so desperately to keep will come out. And if it does, how will everyone react? Will Abby be able to cope with everyone knowing that he is transgender? Will his new friends accept Aiden for who he really is—a boy—or will everything fall apart?


The beautiful eyes belong to the beautiful girl from the library. The one I notice every day for one reason or another. The one I sketched on a page in my journal. I’m such a creep.

“Hi,” she says loudly.

I take out my earbuds and turn off my radio that’s still in my pocket. “Hi,” I say back.

She’s on one knee to be eye-level with me, but she spins and sits down beside me, really close. Wait a minute…


They’re shiny black leather and they go up to her knees. The bottom of them is a three-inch platform, all clunky and sexy—I mean cool. She has black skinny jeans tucked into them.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alive,” the girl says. “Why are you all the way over here, by yourself?”

“I don’t know anyone,” I admit.

She holds out her right hand. “I’m Abby Abernathy.”

I grasp her hand. Handshakes are always awkward. Her hand is really warm or mine is really cold.

“I’m Aiden Adams.”

“Nice to meet you—now you know someone.” She smiles.

“I guess I do.”

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Meet the author:

Alyssa Astra lives in a mildly haunted house in North Carolina. She started writing stories by hand in high school. Now she types them. When she is not writing she spends her free time attempting art and listening to music.