Wayne Gray
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Everything posted by Wayne Gray
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Rain had fallen fiercely for a few hours overnight over the watershed of the Smith River. First, the waterway swelled directly from the rain that fell into it, but it grew into a raging torrent from the run-off cascading down the mountains and hills bracketing the river. Standing on the bank, Orson eyed the water. It was now Sunday morning, and luckily, the sun was back in force. He ran a hand through his black hair, the single silver streak glittering like treasure among his dark locks.
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Just read through our entire story. Gonna start writing on it again this week. I really love these people we’re breathing into life. 🙂
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I consider that a fantastic compliment. Thank you! This was really a fun story. It was even more fun to read the comments from readers ... and watch the wild theories. So, theorize away all you like.
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At Home During COVID-19 and Self Compassion
Wayne Gray commented on Mikiesboy's blog entry in Mikiesboy's Blog
This is good stuff, tim. That writer had it right. We're all trying to work in a time when nothing is at all the same. Where there are monumental stressors that have never existed before. If we need to take the time to just play video games, or watch TV, or eat more french fries, then so be it. Thanks for sharing. -
Haha. Thanks. Corbin and Paul are both desirable in their own ways. 😈
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There may or may not be jumping in Corbin's future. Luckily, you've got a whole story in front of you to find out. Thanks for reading, and for the comment!
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Oh, glad you’re on board. Buckle up! Guarded is a fun one. 😃
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It's no harm for me to put them in, and it can be helpful for some. Having a trigger warning of an assault, for example, could make a rather large difference to some readers. PTSD is real. If someone needs to skip a chapter I wrote to avoid anguish, then it's a tiny price to pay to help someone avoid that trauma. People who don't need them won't read them. Others who do will. It seems pretty simple.
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Thanks for the comment, FrankD! It was John. A series of “final acts” of love. You’re free to be a sappy romantic in this story. There are other romantic stories I’ve done. Bluegrass Symphony ... I’m betting you’d like that one. Give it a shot, let me know what you think of it. Oh, don’t let chapter one throw you. You’ll see what I mean if you keep reading.
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Thanks for reading and commenting, Jeffrey! Bailey is worth wondering about. More to come on that front. 🙂 And Rayne is new. We’ll see more of him too.
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Awesome to hear, KellyONE. 🙂 I really can't wait until we dive a little deeper. It's gonna be a fun ride, I think.
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Urine is sterile. The bottoms of feet are not. Thank you for wearing shower shoes!
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Hello, DiC! I just wanted to share this. Because ... I do these things. Like ... all the damn time. Do other people not? Really? I'm not sure I wanna live another way. lol
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Weeelll ... Since you've already read the story, you know Bailey's issue. And ... now everyone else does too. 😉 Thanks for reading.
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Thanks, mayday! I really really like writing something that prompts people to reread the story to look and see if I left clues or not. Maybe I should be writing mysteries after all. I do enjoy this addition to the Camp Refuge family. And more, I like how it really picks up in the next chapter. 😄 Thanks again!
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Thanks, chris. Yeah, some of the regulars make an appearance, while there are a couple of new faces (Bailey and Rayne) too. Bailey seems to want to keep to himself, and the attention from Harlan isn't something that makes him very happy. Let's find out why. See you again on Thursday!
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Someday, you're gonna have to tell me why you like this particular part of the series so much. I'm happy you do, I'm just curious. 🙂 Thanks, molly.
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It does help to get comments, so by all means, when you feel the urge go for it! Eloquent or not, it'll come across. 🙂 I like Bluegrass Symphony too. It was great to "go back" there, even if it was just in my writing.
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Thanks, chris. I hope you enjoy it.
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Eh. No apology needed to me. Thanks for reading my work. That's appreciated. 🙂
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Bailey rubbed his tired eyes. He had been at the coffee shop almost all day—studying his options, replying to prospective employers, and reading the gentle, politically correct rejections he'd received from all of them. I don't need people to be nice, I need a job. He huffed out a breath. I need something. Leaning back in the chair, he looked up at the ceiling. Bailey was in a Starbucks in the Castro, in the city of San Francisco—one of the most iconic places in gay culture in the United Sta
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A man named Bailey finds himself at the campground. He's quiet, keeps to himself, yet for some reason draws the eye of Harlan. There are a few other new faces as well. Come back to camp. There's a a cabin waiting for you.
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Did you grow up Catholic, by chance? 😉
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Thank you, Nana. You're welcome. I like how they fit together. 🙂
