I’m a deeply flawed and tangled-up human with a mission to put more good into the world. I love writing,…
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I’m a deeply flawed and tangled-up human with a mission to put more good into the world. I love writing,…
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Worldbuilder Entrepreneur Aspiring Queen, author and mental health advocate Stay in Touch Take a look at my social media –…
Welcome to my world, my struggles, my triumphs, my blah, my yay! and my meh. Welcome to spelling mistakes and relapse and failure. Welcome to success, and rest and run-on sentences. Brush off your Bible and your journal and your deep thoughts and your Big Book or your White Book and your 24 hour chip, and let’s get started.
Overview Do you have a passion for mentorship, project development, and social equity? You might be just the person needed…
Life happens. Hurt happens. It won’t ever stop. But I’m trying to push through for a few more minutes. Then a few minutes more.
Life happens. Hurt happens. It won’t ever stop. But I’m trying to push through for a few more minutes. Then a few minutes more.
The worst part, of course, is still the insomnia and sleep deprivation. Either I can’t sleep when I try or I don’t sleep when I can, and then I’m left utterly exhausted, profoundly depressed, and utterly hopeless. Unable to do anything other than sit and watch the time slip by, onward until it’s too late.
Your help with my student debt goals would mean the world to me! I’m raising $80,000 to pay off my…
It’s been a while since my amateur acting days, but I try to go method and channel the rich dudes from my favorite movies. Eccentric billionaires who don’t care about societies standards, who of course would be seen in a luxury hotel wearing cargo pants, hiking boots, and a worn-out shell.
I’ve never voiced this out loud before. To anyone. Even though I can’t quite put my finger on what my issue is, stumbling through it with him feels like the only thing I can do at that moment. “I just…I think it’s gross. Maybe?” That’s the closest I’ve ever come to explaining it to myself, even though that’s not quite it. “And I’ve been told I’m a bad kisser. But I’m working on it. I have to.”
I can’t believe I said that, but I can’t take it back. My heart is pounding so fast that I can barely breathe. What am I doing? This is crazy. I’ve spent years learning my lesson not to be impulsive, to really think about the consequences of my actions. I’ve worked so hard to teach myself to be accountable and selfless.
But for whom?
. My simmering panic flares to life when the pastor says we can kiss, and my hand flies up for…
I dump all the pills onto my bed, and count them again, slowly. They glisten in the afternoon sun, so innocuous. These are meant to help me get my life back together, but they aren’t working. Nothing is working. No one can help me, and I’ve gotten to the point where not many people care anymore.
The worst part, of course, is still the insomnia and sleep deprivation. Either I can’t sleep when I try or I don’t sleep when I can, and then I’m left utterly exhausted, profoundly depressed, and utterly hopeless. Unable to do anything other than sit and watch the time slip by, onward until it’s too late.
This can be a little promo graphic or video for your business, a birthday card or video, a short romantic story for your one and only, or I can help you with your own writing.
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There’s nothing to lose, so go ahead and help me build my portfolio.
Lanie found herself wishing she was back in Qalcad, facing down raiders and gunfire and explosions rather than spend one more minute having dinner with her son.
Once again, she was walking on a cloud. A very hot, very steamy cloud.
She wasn’t sure where she even was for a minute. It had been a long time since he’d done that to her, and she still wasn’t sure if he fully understood the power he had over her. She wasn’t sure if he knew that she would do absolutely anything for him, no matter the cost, no matter what. She would give him the heart out of her chest if he asked.
“He’s given me no choice! It’s either this, or knock him out, or tie him up. He’s too emotionally involved, on so many levels. He’s being unprofessional, and so I have to as well. If you guys were thinking clearly, and really cared about him, you’d also want to make sure that he doesn’t get hurt, or hurt someone else, or mess things up for the entire program.”
And he played “The Story” by Sarah Ramirez. Dre joined in, and then the girls tried to sing it as well. Soon, the little monsters were able to sing, “I was made for you,” almost on time and in tune.
She couldn’t contain the question. It was out of her before she could stop it, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to, even if she could. If Ben was serious, she needed to know.
Here was the woman whose daughter he’d hurt. The woman who, today, might have been his mother-in-law, if things had been different. What would it have been like to be part of the Anderson family?
Impulsively, Ben reached out his arms and hugged him. It felt strange, to cross this barrier between rivals and friendship. At that moment, Jake was not the man that Lanie had chosen first. He was simply a man, like Ben, trying his best and hoping to leave his mark.
She looked up the ceiling. Why this, again? At this point, she should just tell him, but she’d been lying about it so long that it was habit.
Deciding not to be offended, he indulged her. Sometimes his words just needed to come out, and right now, he had things to say
She leaves him for the other side of the tiered circle of stone benches surrounding the big open fire pit. Thankfully, he doesn’t try to follow her. Mickey’s already roasting some marshmallows among the throng of people with long sticks.
No matter what happened to her, no matter what bruises she’d had to hide, she knew she would have him. Even if they had never spoken. Even if he was always at the front of the sanctuary, and she was always at the back, one of hundreds of faces that he didn’t even see through the stage lights and his closed eyes.
#strongwomen #writer #author #entrepreneur #blog #blogger #canadian #alberta #chapter #romance #drama #novel #asaviourspath #excerpt #writing “Is this real?” She groped…
There were lines around her eyes that made it hard to look at her. Her usual mass of escaped curls hung limp and scraggly around her face, and he wondered at the last time she had taken a shower. Or done anything for herself, really. What would she be doing now, if she didn’t have him to look after?
But this last year had changed him. Cleansed him. He’d gotten what he’d been searching for by undertaking this little challenge.
Lanie’s wondered when her life would stop feeling so surreal. This wrinkle in time that she’d fallen into felt like a dream.
He is just so full of life, and apparently doesn’t hold grudges, despite his tirade against her earlier. Is this what he wanted all along? Just to work alongside her?
It had been eleven years, and he hadn’t really thought about seeing her again, and what he would say. But although there was so much and yet not enough to say, the least he could do was let her know how much he regretted what he’d done to her.