Sexual harassment, being a “working girl,” and loli rants…

Dear Diary,

The best decision I ever made (besides starting a Patreon) was to become a writer. It was also probably the worst. I write this because while I love writing, some of the people my writing (or at least my erotic writing) attracts are just creepy as fuck. They seem to assume because I write erotica, I always have sex on the brain, and that’s all I want to talk about – even though they are complete strangers. It’s like just because they can create a fake social media account, they think it’s OK to talk to women any way they want. This is why I’m not a big fan of internet anonymity – it makes it too easy to assault people. I mean, they wouldn’t do this in real life because they would be thrown in jail, but it’s OK online. Why? I seriously don’t understand why sexual harassment is OK on the internet, but against the law face to face. Just because a computer is used, it’s acceptable?

In a way, it reminds me of a funny story that happened a few years ago with a close friend of mine, Nicole. We were out late as fuck one night, basically clubbing/acting fools and called an Uber to get us home safely. We were dressed up, of course, but Nicole – who looked like a straight supermodel – looked way better than I did. Anyway, the driver got us to our destination and asked Nicole if she was a working girl. My eyes widened because I’m a little hoodrat and knew exactly what he meant, but Nicole had no clue – she smiled and said something to the extent of “Yep! I be getting’ people’s money all day!” (she was a banker at Wells Fargo) The guy shook his head in dismay and said that he wished he had some extra money because she was drop-dead gorgeous.

She grinned; he looked something like a lost, beaten puppy. 🙄

We got out of the car.

As we watched the guy drive away, Nicole blinked a few times, and her eyes widened. She turned to me and said, “Wait – was he asking me if I was a prostitute?!” I laughed so hard I almost fell to the ground. When I told her yes, that was precisely what he was asking, she turned more shades of red than I ever thought possible. I wouldn’t let her live that down for anything. Loved it.

<LoliRant>

It does kind of illustrate my point though. Our jobs do not define us. Neither do our hobbies. We define us, and we are so much more complex than the paltry scraps of information we decide to randomly throw on the internet. I’ve been to college. I’ve accumulated five different degrees. According to the Stanford-Binet IQ scale (and a few others), I’m in the top 5% of the population. I’ve been told by several MENSA members that I should join, but honestly, the benefits suck, and I don’t need the validation. I did, however, pass the online test just out of curiosity.

I’m not writing any of this to brag: those of you who have known me for years most likely didn’t know any of the above. And there’s no reason you should. I don’t need to impress anyone, and I definitely don’t want to come across as better-than or egotistical.

No, I’m not trying to brag, I’m trying to illustrate a point. Despite all the above, and my general sweet-natured attitude towards strangers (I like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt), I continuously get swarmed with stupid messages and unsolicited (and frankly disgusting) messages and pictures. All because I write erotica. I have several non-erotic pen names that I write paranormal, romance, science fiction, fantasy, and a few other genres under, but that’s beside the point – instead of trying to get to know me for who I am, people automatically assume that since I’m a girl that writes kinky things I’m online to be their personal sex outlet.

Ew. 🤮

Please don’t get it twisted. I love to flirt, sometimes in lewd ways, but I have to know you first. Like, really know you – not just a few quick DMs…

</LoliRant>

Anyway.

On the writing front, I’m almost finished with the rough draft of the last book in the Exitium Mundi series, which should have been done long before now. Unfortunately, I keep thinking of things to add, change, and omit. So ridiculous. But it’s getting there, and all the changes I’m making are for the betterment of the story, so I really can’t complain too much. Of course, doing all that also means I have to go back through the rest of the other six books and change things, adding and taking out parts, etc. Luckily they are all short(ish), so it isn’t that big of a deal. Yet.

Oh! Before I go, please send my homiegirl @n0nlineargirl some love. And pictures of horse penises. She really loves horse penises. 😂 She recently broke her foot and may need surgery, so she needs all the attention she can get. I’m reasonably sure she doesn’t read my Diary entries, but just in case tell her I sent you. She’ll thank you, trust me.

#Alexa

Have You Ever Walked into a Room?

Have you ever walked into a room and found a vampire? No, not the sexy kind, but a foul creature with bony limbs and ashen skin? The kind that snarls as you enter, like a beast about to pounce? The kind that roots you to the spot with its sunken, hypnotic eyes, rendering you unable to flee as you watch the hideous thing uncoil from the shadows? Has your heart started racing though your legs refuse to? Have you felt time slow as the creature crosses the room in the darkness of a blink? Have you shuddered with fear when it places one clawed hand atop your head and another under your chin so it can tilt you, exposing your neck?

 Have you squirmed as its rough, dry tongue slides down your cheek, over your jaw, to your throat, in a slithering search that’s seeking your artery? Have you felt its hot breath release in a hiss against your skin when it probes your pulse — the flow that leads to your brain? Has its tongue rested there, throbbing slightly as if savoring the moment? Have you then experienced a sinking, sucking blackness as you discover that not all vampires feed on blood — some feed on memories? Well, have you? Maybe not. But let me rephrase the question: Have you ever walked into a room and suddenly forgotten why you came in?

Disclosure: This post may contain affiliate links that earn me a small commission, at no additional cost to you. This is because I’m a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to amazon.com.

Getting bitten and being pregnant…

Dear Diary,

I’ve been officially bitten by the Halloween bug. I tried to resist it, ignore it, and replace it with other habits (meth, crack, Skyrim), but nothing worked. I finally snapped the other day, and now everything in my house and Anne’s has been Halloweenified. Our phones, computers, accounts on our video game systems, etc. I even started outlining a spooky, intense, erotic little tale called Paramnesia that should be finished by the end of the week. It’s scheduled to be released on December 1, 2021. Unfortunately, you won’t get to read it any earlier unless you’re

1. A member of my Beta Reader Hit Squad, or
2. A member of my Patreon.

I’m not doing that to be a bitch, it’s just that my releases until then are already slated and, in most cases, finished. Since I release a new eBook/paperback/audiobook every month, I can’t just push everything aside, ya know?

So far, it’s coming out amazingly. I’ve already finished writing, revising, and polishing the outline (which I preach to my students in my Writing 101 class), and tomorrow, I’m going to start writing the rough draft. I am so excited. Of course, I’m doing this because I’m taking a brief break from the final Exitium Mundi book, Everyone 2, which itself is in its rough draft stage. I know, sometimes I have writers ADD, but it’s nice to switch projects occasionally, especially when your creativity starts feeling stale.

After this, I’ll jump back on Exitium Mundi for a bit, then finish up Erotic Urban Legends: Taboo, a short story requested by one of my Patreon supporters (you motherfuckers did know you can do that, right? You just have to be on the VIP Tier). Taboo is in the outline stage, but the characters and story are entirely flushed out. So many projects, so little time…

Fuck, I love being a writer! 🥰

I would love it even more if I didn’t feel 13 months pregnant from all this damn Halloween candy I’ve been eating from Universal Yums. During my Halloween frenzy, I ordered their special Halloween box, which they got to me quick fast and in a hurry, and Anne and I immediately tore into it this past weekend and now… I never want to see another piece of candy again. They were so damn good though! Except for that weird sour candy that gave me bitter beer face for like an hour. That was horrible. Even Anne tasted it and looked at me all alarmed and betrayed. 😅 She came to love it though – after the initial taste shock wore off.

Ah! Before I go, I wanted to post the current status of my latest Twitter poll, which had some interesting conversations attached to it. There’s still a little time left to vote, so make your voice heard! 😝

Enjoy the following Halloween story, ripped from the interwebs.

And sweet dreams, beloveds… 🎃

#Alexa

Charlie

I hate it when my brother Charlie has to go away. My parents constantly try to explain to me how sick he is; that I am lucky for having a brain where all the chemicals flow properly to their destinations like undammed rivers. When I complain about how bored I am without a little brother to play with, they try to make me feel bad by pointing out that his boredom likely far surpasses mine, considering he’s confined to a dark room in an institution. I always beg for them to give him one last chance. Of course, they did at first. Charlie has been back home several times, each shorter in duration than the last. Every time without fail, it all starts again. The neighborhood cats with gouged out eyes showing up in his toy chest, my dad’s razors found dropped on the baby slide in the park across the street, mom’s vitamins replaced by bits of dishwasher tablets.

My parents are hesitant now, using “last chances” sparingly. They say his disorder makes him charming, makes it easy for him to fake normalcy, and to trick the doctors who care for him into thinking he is ready for rehabilitation. That I will just have to put up with my boredom if it means staying safe from him. I hate it when Charlie has to go away. It makes me have to pretend to be good until he is back.

Disclosure: This post may contain affiliate links that earn me a small commission, at no additional cost to you. This is because I’m a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to amazon.com.

Helping Anne poop, having fun with Lolis, and making you wet yourself…

Dear Diary,

I am utterly unappreciated as a friend. I’m serious. See, Anne told me she had to poop, right? She had just eaten a ton of ice cream that morning (which she knows better than considering she’s lactose intolerant), so she had (predictably) been pooping all day. Anyway, she slithered her way to the bathroom and closed the door, and I – in my deep and profound dedication as her best friend – decided to try and help. So, I placed my Bluetooth soundbar in front of the door and put on some helpful, soothing, and uplifting songs:

• The poop song https://youtu.be/lZTnNn-i9uk
• “Let me Poop” by Emily Mandelbaum https://youtu.be/0Tf4Qxw2jnc
• Old Town Poop https://youtu.be/oIVN32r76b0

For some unfathomable reason, she was not amused. She even told me I had a constipated cry-smile because of the way I was grinning when she finally got out. Such an evil, spiteful little thing! 😅

Writing-wise I’ve been on a roll: I finished Exitium Mundi: Jamie and even finished the outline for Exitium Mundi: Everyone 2, the very last book in the Exitium Mundi series. Not that I seem to be able to actually write the damn story or anything – Real Life keeps throwing things my way that I have to deal with. It’s frustrating. Today, for example, I had to take Anne to the doctors again, so I planned on getting up a bit early to get some much-needed writing done.

We overslept and barely managed to get ready in time to leave. 🙄

So since I haven’t been able to full-fledge write, I decided to outline the sequel to Killer Lolis, Killer Lolis: Hunt for the Lolistone in my spare time. I love my Lolis, and outlining the story is proving to be an immense amount of fun. It’s going to be a lot longer (and kinkier, and definitely more entertaining) than the original, so look forward to it. 😊

Now, on to Halloween.

Until my favorite holiday gets here, I figured it would be fun to scour the internet for super short scary stories and share them with you all at the end of my Diary entries. To get into the spirit, you know? I didn’t write any of these stories, and they are all freely available on the internet (mostly Reddit), so I figured no harm, no foul.

Here’s the first.

Try not to wet yourself. 🎃

Check Under the Bed

I begin tucking him into bed and he tells me, “Daddy check for monsters under my bed.” I look underneath for his amusement and see him, another him, under the bed, staring back at me quivering and whispering, “Daddy there’s somebody on my bed.”

Thank you for reading, beloveds.

#Alexa

“I worked as a prosecutor watching Catholic priests charged with sex abuse and saw firsthand how the ‘circle the wagons’ mentality revictimized the innocent, coddled the guilty, and made matters worse for everyone.”

– Christine Pelosi

Disclosure: This post may contain affiliate links that earn me a small commission, at no additional cost to you. This is because I’m a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to amazon.com.