Playing Jericho Deleted Scene

When I write a book, a lot of the time I get inspiration from different places or songs or just random thoughts that pop into my mind. It’s usually not for a full scene, but I get snippets of dialogue or moments of interaction that I don’t want to miss out on, so I keep a file in my book folder called Bits and Pieces and I add to it throughout the entire process.

My actual folder for Playing Jericho and the aforementioned Bits and Pieces document.

I actually start a folder for each book and a Bits and Pieces document before I’ve even really plotted the book so I can add character details or anything that comes to mind, really.

Such was the case with the scene below. I wrote it, didn’t edit it at all, but realized that the scene I had in mind for it just wouldn’t fit. For one thing, the bit below was in Jericho’s POV and the chapter ended up being in Moon’s. There also just wasn’t a great place to fit it in when the whole thing was written.

So, now you get a little sneak peek in the form of a deleted scene. This scene takes place a music festival (think Coachella) where the guys were playing. Moon and Jericho spend some time together after the guys are done with their set, and this is the result.

Enjoy!

Jericho

She tugged me through the crowd. "You pick the band, I want to dance."

I thought for a minute before a smile tugged at my lips. "I know the perfect spot."

We pushed through what seemed like endless bodies until we stood in front of a stage. Her jaw fell open when she heard the song playing. "Is this Cruel Summer?" Her eyes lit up.

I nodded. "This band does all eighties covers. Ever since Wheezer covered Africa it's become a whole thing."

"I think it might have started when Limp Bizkit did Faith," she surprised the fuck out of me by saying. Moon knew her music.

"Yeah, but we don't talk about that. They butchered the shit out of that song."

"Then there was Tainted Love when Marilyn Manson did it," she pointed out, acting like I hadn't spoken and I wrapped my arms around her, reeling her into my body and burying my face in her hair as she rotated her hips against me. I was so fucking hard it hurt.

"You win. I can't think straight with all my blood in my dick," I growled into her ear. The music was so loud I wasn't sure she heard me until she dipped down and dragged herself back up my body inch by sexy inch.

Her sultry laugh carried over the music and the look she shot me told me she knew exactly what she was doing. “That’s right, I always win.”

And fuck if the challenge in her eye didn’t make me want her that much more.

Better Than a Punch In The Face

Time for some real talk: Writing Playing Jericho has always been a struggle for me since day one. I think I’ve touched on this a little bit before, but every word I write of this book means I have to reach inside my brain (metaphorically, of course), and yank the words free.

The weird thing is I love Jericho as a character. I love his love interest, Moon. I love their story. So why is this so goddamn hard?

I have no idea.

But, I’ve had to resort to sprinting my way through this book to get it done because if I don’t, I’ll most definitely overthink every word, spend hours on thesaurus dot com looking at all the creative and absurd ways to say things, and over-complicate the whole process.

What’s sprinting? It’s when you set a timer and do nothing but write for a short burst of time. I do 20-minute sprints and they work pretty well for me. It’s funny how writing every single book is different, even if you’re mostly the same person when you write them. The processes change to fit the character or the story, whatever you need. That wasn’t something I considered when I started my first book or even my second. I figured the adjustments I was making to my process were because I was learning as a writer.

And maybe that has something to do with it. But Jericho… he’s testing me. Before going into this book (and, admittedly, a little bit with Maddox’s book) I was mostly a fluff writer. I dealt with some issues, but I didn’t turn toward the dark side with bullying or my characters getting obsessive or overly possessive with each other. But my eyes have been opened to the world of bully romance and I find myself intrigued with it to the point that I also find myself itching to incorporate a bit of it into my writing.

How do I settle that with the fact I usually write fluff? Well, I’m still figuring it out because writing dark characters is HARD. I want Jericho to be possessive and protective and a little bit (or a lot) dangerous, but I don’t want to cross a line into irredeemable territory. I want you all to love him like I love him despite his flaws.

And I think that’s what’s making this book difficult to write—balancing the flaws with the good parts so that he’s still a likable character in the end that we all want to see get his HEA.

And thus concludes my ramblings. If you’ve stuck with me this long, keep scrolling for your reward (a bit of unedited Jericho).

Jericho

I chuckled darkly. “It wouldn’t have made a difference in the end, though, and we both know it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she looked up at me and narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t act like you don’t fucking want me, like you don’t feel the connection between us. You might be able to lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me.”

Moon lifted her chin. “I never said I don’t feel it. I just wanted you to explain.”

“So, you admit you feel drawn to me?”

She stopped walking and we faced each other. I had no idea where the escort was going and I didn’t give a shit. Her turquoise eyes lifted to meet mine. “When I look at you like this, it’s like the entire world disappears. Nothing else matters or exists but you and me. I don’t care about anything else. I don’t want anything or anyone else.” She tore her eyes away and shook her head. “I’ve never felt like this before and when I say it out loud, it sounds really unhealthy.”

I tucked my fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to mine again. “And what would you do if I wanted to see other people or let another woman touch me?”

How do you think Moon will react to that question? Leave me a comment and let me know!

Jericho Sneak Peek: Chapter One

Like I did with Maddox, I wanted to share with you the (unedited!) first chapter of Jericho. I’ve said it a thousand times and I’ll keep saying it but Jericho is DARK y’all. He’s damaged and gives zero fucks about making other people happy. He is who he is and likes what he likes. HEADS UP: This sneak is NSFW.

Jericho

“Is he dead?” one of the voices in my ear wondered.

“He’s on mute but he’s still there,” I answered, adjusting my headset. My eyes were locked onto the screen and I gripped my controller tightly in my hands. My team and I had spent more hours than was healthy over the last week trying to get past this mission and it looked like this would be the time if no one fucked it up.

“We have to wait for him to respawn,” the slightly husky and sexy as hell voice belonging to the only girl on our team responded and I tried not to notice how my already rapid heartbeat kicked up to a new level. That was nothing new where LunaGirl was concerned.

“Alright, he’s here. Let’s roll out,” DeathMinion, the fourth member of our team commanded and I tried not to bristle. Taking directions from others wasn’t something I easily did. Ever.

We crept along deserted streets, focused in on our target. Just as we reached the objective, all hell broke loose. We’d come prepared but the other team were better and we quickly got our asses handed to us. Again.

I repressed the urge to smash my controller against the wall and squeezed my eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “Fuck, I’m out. Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow,” DeathMinion said before signing off of the game. Once he was gone, FatUncle followed him and that just left LunaGirl and me. A devilish grin crossed my face.

“Hey, Luna,” I breathed into the mic, lowering my voice to almost a growl.

She laughed that throaty laugh of hers that always turned me the fuck on. “Hey, Wicked. Nice campaign, even if we did get our asses kicked.”

Flirting with Luna over this game was what I looked forward to most these days. It wasn’t playing sold out shows with Shadow Phoenix, the band I was a drummer for. It wasn’t accepting awards, doing interviews, or any of the other boring-ass shit that came along with being someone famous. Nope. It was this right here—LunaGirl and her sultry voice. Her and this game were the only places I let myself really be who I was deep down inside. The only safe places I had to let the darkness out to play because LunaGirl got off on my need for control.

“Speaking of asses,” I started, leaning back into the soft pillows on my couch and getting comfortable. “I bet you’ve got some hot as fuck silky or lacy panties covering yours, don’t you?”

Luna laughed again, softer this time and more mischievous. “Wrong.”

I licked my lips, leaning forward and resting my elbow on my knees. If anyone knew the version of me that I let LunaGirl see, they’d be shocked. To the rest of the world, right down to my closest friends and bandmates, parents, even my best friend, Kennedy, I was a shy, quiet guy. But Luna knew the real me, even if she didn’t know who I was in real life. 

And the real me was one twisted motherfucker.

I lowered my voice even further, adding a hardness to let her know I wasn’t to be fucked with. “You know better than to lie to me, Luna.”

“Oh, I’m not lying, Wicked. It’s just… I knew we’d be playing tonight and I decided not to wear panties at all.”

The irritation at her disobedience faded and my desire ramped up in its place, but I wouldn’t let her know.“Did I tell you you could play without panties?”

“No, but-”

“But nothing. That’s not how this works, you know the rules. When it comes to your body and your pleasure, who’s in charge?”

Her soft intake of breath was music to my ears. “You are.”

Luna’s compliance made my dick harden and I slid my hand down my body until my palm rested on my firm length. I squeezed to give myself some of the friction I craved and held back the groan wanting to escape my lips. Instead, I refocused my attention on the girl in my headset, the one giving herself over to me so freely.

“Yes. I am. Which means next time you don’t go without panties unless I say you can. Understood?”

“Yes,” she agreed, her voice breathless. That one word out of her lips turned my cock to fucking granite, her whispered agreement everything I needed and she was the only one who I allowed to give it to me.

“Good. Now, are you wearing a skirt like I told you to?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Put your hand on your chest and slowly slide it down every curve of your body,” I commanded, wishing like hell I could watch her do it. “And stop just before you touch your sweet little pussy.”

I leaned back into the cushion behind me again, undoing the button on my jeans and sliding the zipper down. Listening to every hitch in her breathing, every shift of clothing and skin, I reveled in the small whimpers and sounds of pleasure Luna made on the other end of the headset.

“I’m there,” she practically moaned and I knew if I was in the same room as her, she’d be on the verge of begging for me to touch her. To glide my tongue along her hot core until she quivered and screamed and came undone under my touch.

Instead, we had this. And I wasn’t complaining, but sometimes I wanted more. “Now, take those soft fingers and slip them down over your clit.”

Her breathing sped up as she obeyed, but I was only getting started. “Does that feel good?”

Her affirmation came as a moan that washed over my body. The sounds she made spread heat through every single vein until I was burning with a hunger so intense I might fucking explode. But still I wouldn’t let her hear the effect she had on me.

Based on the sounds she was making and the fact we’d done this countless times over the last six months, I could tell she was getting close to coming. “Stop,” I demanded, stroking my cock another couple of times while I listened to her let out a shuddering breath.

She whimpered. “What?”

“I said fucking stop.” I left no room for her to question me in my tone but she did it anyway.

“Why?”

“Not that I have to explain myself, but you knew the rules and you went against them anyway. Next time you think about doing something without asking me first, remember how this feels.” Yes, I was aware I could be a cold bastard. Cruel even. It was part of why I hid my true self from the world. Because I fucking liked how I was and that scared me sometimes. 

She huffed but didn’t argue. I’d trained her well. “Now, you don’t touch yourself until we talk tomorrow, Luna, or next time your punishment will be a lot fucking worse. Do you understand?”

“Fine, Wicked.” The irritation in her tone made me smile. It pissed her off that I wasn’t letting her come, but she liked this game we played just as much as I did. And I imagined that in her normal, real life she didn’t let anyone else boss her around or tell her what to do. We existed in this tiny bubble where we gave each other what we needed.

“Same time then?” I asked casually, aware that neither one of us were getting off tonight and tucking my still-hard shaft back into my jeans.

“Yes,” she snapped. Her frustration oozed through the headset and I grinned like I’d won a fucking prize. Why the fuck was I like that?

“Have a good night, LunaGirl. And remember what I said. No touching.”

“Go fuck yourself,” she grumbled so quiet I almost couldn’t hear her and I fought back a laugh. The girl had a toughness to her that I admired even if I craved her submission.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Talk to you tomorrow, Wicked.” 

“Not quite, Luna. I heard what you said and I won’t stand for that shit. And as you suggested, I think I will fuck myself. And you’re going to listen to me do it without touching your soaking wet pussy.” I pulled my dick back out and wrapped my fingers around it, moving my fist up and down as I imagined burying myself inside Luna.

Gripping my shaft harder, I flexed my hips upward, pushing my cock further into my grasp and stroking the tip, finding a rhythm that brought me closer and closer to relief. Distantly, I was aware of Luna’s irritated silence, but that only served to stoke my arousal. 

My cock got impossibly harder and I finally found my release, letting out a low groan of pleasure and coming all over my hand. My body shuddered as satisfaction carried all the way down to my toes curled into the carpet under my feet. I made a fucking mess but it was worth it. “Luna?”

“Yes?” she grit out, her annoyance palpable through the speaker.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, beautiful girl. And I hope you don’t deprive yourself tomorrow by misbehaving.”

She sighed. “Goodnight, Wicked.”

She signed off and then I was alone, how I usually liked to be. I pulled off the headset, relishing the quiet. It was a rare commodity in my life and when the band wasn’t touring or promoting a new album, I tried to spend as much time in the silence as I could.

But now I had energy to work off. Pent up sexual energy. Despite my climax a few minutes ago, I barely felt any relief. This thing I had going with LunaGirl wasn’t going to be enough for much longer. I briefly wondered whether she’d be interested in a more up close and personal relationship before dismissing the idea.

Standing up, my jeans fell to the floor and I stepped out of them before bending down to pick them up and folding them neatly. Crossing the house, I went into my bedroom and put them in their drawer before I pulled my boxer briefs down and stepped out of them. Digging through a different drawer, I found my favorite pair of swim shorts and pulled them on.

Grabbing a towel on my way to my backyard and the inviting pool there, my mind drifted back to thoughts of Luna. If my face wasn’t so fucking recognizable, meeting her in person wouldn’t be a problem. But all it would take was one picture, one recording, one video, or even just one well-timed story to any media outlet anywhere to fuck up my whole world.

I snorted, imagining what my parents would say if they found out the kind of man I really was. The kind filled with darkness he was afraid to let out. They already regretted adopting me. Despite my success, they never let me forget what a disappointment I was to them. They’d told me the story of how I’d come to be theirs a thousand times, but the weight of their expectations had nearly crushed me. The only child they’d ever have, brought into their life to fill a void they couldn’t fill on their own.

But I had to live my life on my terms, even if that meant a shitty relationship with my parents. Still, I didn’t want to embarrass them. In their minds, it was bad enough that I was a celebrity. They hated my fame more than I did. So, I kept my desires and my true nature well-hidden, locked deep down in a box wrapped in titanium chains. The only person who had the key was LunaGirl and even then, I kept her at arm’s length.

Tossing the towel onto the plush lounge chair, I dove into the lukewarm water, gliding through the liquid until my lungs burned and I was forced to come up for air. The weight of the water pressed against my body on all sides, and I found it comforting like I always did. This was where I found my peace, slicing through the water with the world muffled. Nothing could touch me here, not even the air. 

Lap after lap I pushed myself, kicking off the wall again and again until every muscle burned and I was gasping for air. I finally surfaced, pushing my hair back off of my forehead and wiping the water droplets away. I blinked up at the setting sun, wondering if it was still light wherever Luna was, or if, like her name, she was looking up at the bright moonlight. 

I also wondered if a day would come where she wasn’t the first thing I thought about when I woke up or the last thing I thought about before I fell asleep.

***

After wearing myself out in the pool last night, I fell into a fitful sleep. Visions of a faceless girl haunted me all night long and I woke up unsettled. But I had shit to do, so I couldn’t afford to linger on whatever the fuck my subconscious was doing.

Instead, I got up, swam my morning laps in the pool, and headed to the studio to meet the guys. We were recording our eighth album and I still couldn’t quite believe that shit. It blew my mind that anyone wanted to listen to the music we made, let alone millions of people around the world. 

Maybe if we weren’t so hugely popular, I wouldn’t have to hide my true self. But our following showed no signs of slowing down. If anything, we picked up more and more fans with every album we released. I was almost numb to it now.

Sometimes I wondered what my life would look like if I walked away. If I’d be free.

But there was a deep-seated need inside me to create. To express parts of myself that had no other outlet. And if I lost that, I wasn’t sure what I would become.

Walking through the nondescript front door of Mixed, the studio the label picked to record this album, the neon blue lighting tinted everything, including the five guys who were standing around waiting for me. I fucking hated being late and gritted my teeth, holding back the swell of annoyance and my desire to lash out. Instead, I pulled the drumsticks I always carried around out of my back pocket and started twirling them as I sat on the white leather sofa next to Maddox.

“Nice of you to join us,” his clipped words chafed at my need to cause pain, but I swallowed it down and adopted my usual mask of indifference instead. I never let my emotions control me. It was too dangerous. 

“I think so,” I retorted, ignoring his glare and instead focusing on spinning the wooden stick between my fingers in a calming rhythm. 

We were all feeling on edge, but I was the only one who kept that shit locked inside. Everyone wore their stress in the form of creased brows, scowls, and flattened lips. I could practically cut the frustration in the room with a knife. And it all centered on one man and one man only: Richard Bennett. 

“If you guys are ready, I’d like to get started this century,” the engineer slash producer snapped and I watched as the temperature in the room dropped a solid ten degrees and the tension skyrocketed. Maddox’s jaw ticked, Zen’s nostrils flared, and the arms folded across True’s chest flexed as if he were holding himself back from launching his fists at Richard’s face.

Even Griffin, Maddox’s brother who’d been hanging around the band for the past couple of months, had his eyes narrowed in the direction of the asshole who refused to do his fucking job. All of our band meetings before we ever stepped into a studio, all the writing sessions Zen had done, this fucking guy was ignoring all of it. Everything we knew we wanted, he didn’t give one single fuck.

If he got his way, this album would be whatever cheesy-ass washed out version of music he and the record label decided they wanted from us. But we had no plans of letting that shit slide.

No, we’d put up one hell of a fight if we had to. I almost hoped he wouldn’t do what we asked, because the part of me that craved violence and darkness would throw a goddamn party if I let it out to play with this asshole.

I wasn’t sure he was worth it.

“Maybe if you’d listen to our fucking ideas, we’d already be done,” Maddox grumbled next to me before lifting up off the couch and stalking into the booth.

Zen stared down Richard with a glare that could have melted steel, while True and I followed Maddox into the booth. Griffin settled himself into the couch while Zen was the last to move behind the glass, slamming the door behind him so hard the walls shook.

It was a really great environment to be creative in. Internally, I rolled my eyes at my own sarcasm. I stepped behind my drum set, lowering down onto the stool. True and Maddox picked up their instruments and Zen pulled on his headphones and moved in front of the microphone.

On the other side of the glass, Richard sat in the white office chair behind the mixing board. He leaned forward, pressing the button that let him talk to us in the soundproofed room. “Start whenever you’re ready.”

Zen glanced back at me and I nodded before smacking my sticks together a couple of times and then hitting them against the snare in front of me in a punishing rhythm. We had a vision for this album and we all felt as a band that we’d earned the right to some creative freedom. We’d done whatever the fuck the studio wanted us to for the last seven. This one was ours. 

Stopping us halfway through the song, I gritted my teeth to keep from snapping. Working with Richard over the past month was always like this. I was completely fucking over it.

“What now, Dick?” Maddox taunted, his voice laced with the contempt we were all feeling.

“Your bass line’s off. And why is there no chord change in the middle eight?” he demanded and I wanted to climb over my drum set and shove my stick through his goddamn eye. No fucking way was the tempo of my bass line off. I was a fucking legend when it came to rhythm and this douche expected us to believe I was the problem here?

“Yeah, I’m out,” I declared, standing up and tucking my sticks into my back pocket. The guys didn’t even hesitate, putting their instruments into their cases and filing out of the studio behind me. Griffin rose up off the couch and joined our parade past Richard and toward the door.

I held up my middle finger as I passed by the producer on my way out.

“Where the hell are you going? We’ve got the studio reserved all day!” Richard yelled, his face turning a fucked up shade of reddish-purple. 

“We’re done compromising our music for what you or the label thinks is right. Let us know when you’re ready to just let us fucking play and we’ll be back.” Zen pushed through the front door and we all followed. I gave Dick another one fingered salute before I followed Griffin outside.

“What now?” True asked, hefting his guitar case into the back of his Jeep.

“My house,” I said, sliding into my car. “We’ll record it the way we want and I’ll play around with the composition and see if I can get the sound we’re looking for.”

Zen nodded and Maddox and Griffin got into Mad’s Maclaren, pulling the doors down to close them. Fuck the label and fuck Dick. My adrenaline spiked as a spark of excitement took root inside me. I was itching to test out everything I’d been messing around with in my home studio and thanks to an incompetent exec at the label, it looked like I’d get my chance.

Are you getting excited yet?? Jericho releases 10/20/20.

Meet: Jericho

When I originally came up with my first book idea in Finding Zen, I knew I was going to be writing about a band of guys. I like reading books in a series, so that’s what I wanted to write. So, I had to decide how many guys and how the band would be put together.

It didn’t take long for me to decide I wanted four guys, and for the four of them to start to show me their identities. Well, I should say three of them. Jericho… he’s been a tough nut to crack.

Originally, I thought he was going to be this super shy guy who had a really hard time in social situations, particularly with women. I was also going to have him originally born in Japan and brought to the US as a kid. But, the more I wrote the other guy’s stories with Jericho in the background, the more he changed and his character became something totally different than who I thought he was.

As you’ll read in Shadow Phoenix, Jericho’s not shy AT ALL. He’s quietly controlled and only speaks when he has something to say, not to fill the noise. He was adopted as a baby and doesn’t know his birth parents, but his adoptive parents were cold and unaffectionate.

He didn’t have a bad childhood, per se, but it was lonely and impersonal. His parents had their own lives and at a certain point, he didn’t really fit into them anymore. He used to spend a lot of time wondering why they even wanted him in the first place.

They’re not supportive of him or his career choices, and because of that he’s not close to them. He doesn’t have any siblings that he’s aware of, and so when True recruits him for the band, he jumps in with both feet. The guys become his brothers and are the only people in the world he lets see the real him. The only people he really, fully trusts.

Jericho has a dark streak to him and it presents itself in more ways than one. It comes out quite a bit in SP, but you’ll get to see a whole lot more of the darkness inside him in Playing Jericho. Unleashing his true self has been one of my favorite things but also some of the hardest words I’ve ever written. But I needed to let Jericho be who he was meant to be even if that wasn’t who I thought he should be, and isn’t that just the story of his life?

Two more members to go… Do you have a favorite yet?

What I Wrote This Week

This past Tuesday, Saving Maddox released and now that it’s out in the world it was time for me to jump into my next project. If I’m not actively writing something at pretty much all times, I get twitchy.

Unlike every other aspect of my life, my writing process is really organized and linear. I start my projects by figuring out the two main characters and a loose plot line. I figure out where I want them to start and how I want the story to end. And then I jump into detailed plotting.

I plot every single scene I’m going to write before I write it. At least that’s typically how I do things. I also only work on one project at a time.

Way back when, I was super into knitting. And I was also super into starting a million projects and never finishing one so I had half-finished knitting projects all over the house. Knowing that about myself, when I started on this writing journey I told myself I would only start something if I finished something else. So far this has served me well, but I had two projects once Maddox was done that were tugging at me and demanding to be written.

So this week, I broke my self-imposed one project at a time rule. That’s right: I’m actively writing TWO books right now.

So what are they?

Well, the first is Playing Jericho. Out of all the books I’ve written so far, this one has given me the most trouble plot-wise. The character I originally envisioned for Jericho didn’t fit when the time came to start actually plotting the book and it took me a couple of months of plotting and replotting to finally figure out that the problem wasn’t the plot but the character instead. Which meant a complete overhaul of who he was as a person.

I had to stop trying to force him into what I thought he should be and start letting him be who he was meant to be. Once I did that, the plot flowed and the words came a lot easier.

On top of Jericho, I’m also working on a prequel. It’s working title is Shadow Phoenix (original, I know haha) and it’s the story of the four original band members and their friendship and their path to fame. It starts just before high school graduation and follows the start of their music career with lots of debauchery along the way. It’s been fun to write, and unlike Jericho, I’m not plotting the shit out of it before I write it. I’m just writing and seeing what happens.

So far I don’t have a release date set for the prequel, but I’ll let you know when I get closer.

It’s been hot, so I’ve been multitasking by spending time with my kiddo at the pool and writing.

So, here’s how this week breaks down:

Playing Jericho: 2 chapters written

Shadow Phoenix: 3 chapters written

A few done, many, many more to go!

A quick (unedited!) sneak peek from Playing Jericho:

Jericho

I repressed the urge to smash my controller against the wall and squeezed my eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “Fuck, I’m out. Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow,” DeathMinion said before signing off of the game. Once he was gone, FatUncle followed him and that just left LunaGirl and me. A devilish grin crossed my face.

“Hey, Luna,” I breathed into the mic, lowering my voice to almost a growl.

She laughed that throaty laugh of hers that always turned me the fuck on. “Hey, Wicked. Nice campaign, even if we did get our asses kicked.”

Flirting with Luna over this game was what I looked forward to most these days. It wasn’t playing sold out shows with Shadow Phoenix, the band I was a drummer for. It wasn’t accepting awards, doing interviews, or any of the other boring-ass shit that came along with being someone famous. Nope. It was this right here—LunaGirl and her sultry voice. Her and this game were the only places I let myself really be who I was deep down inside. The only safe places I had to let the darkness out to play because LunaGirl got off on my need for control.

Have a great weekend, and look for my “What I Read This Weekend” post on Monday for my favorite reads from the past weekend.