CasualWanderer82

Kate's definitely growing on me. Speaking of growing, 12-inchers are real and they are among us. But I thrust Damien to handle it. After all, he's a pro. 😜

"Furiously fanning myself" might be my new favorite phrase.

Damien awoke the following day with a gnawing ache in his chest. He stared at the ceiling, the pale light of dawn filtering through the blinds, when that sting of humiliation crept up again. Bruce's abrupt withdrawal had felt like a slap and a reminder of something Damien thought he had figured out by now: that he should never let his guard down, not even for a second. The blonde sat up, running a hand through his tousled golden hair. His muscles ached with tension, jaw tight from grinding

It's definitely ticking... I'm so glad to have you join this adventure @Paladin with me!

Oh, good one! Thank you and I hope you enjoy chapter 3!

Bruce definitely seems different from other "players" in this story. And it appears the only "game" he knows how to play is inside the field. But time will tell...😜

Bruce definitely seems different from other "players" in this story. And it appears the only "game" he knows how to play is inside the field. But time will tell...😜

There is definitely nuance to Bruce's behavior. Let's see what happens...😉

Well, Damien isn't a world renowned pop star...although he certainly acts like one! 😉

Damien woke to the faint glow of dawn spilling through the slatted blinds of his dorm room. His mind was restless, with memories of his encounter with Bruce Levinson the day before. He tried to shake the remnants of a dream, vivid and electric, where Bruce's intense gaze had pierced through him, the heat between them palpable and undeniable. Even now, he could feel the magnetic pull of Bruce's presence, the way his piercing eyes had lingered a fraction too long, that barely concealed smirk when

I appreciate the feedback!

I appreciate the time you took to share your feedback. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.

I'm glad you came back to this story, Gary. Enjoy it at your own pace.

Such a heartwarming comment. Thank you @Cane23 for the sweet words!

I'm overwhelmed with gratitude for everyone's comments and feedback. It means a lot. It's a pleasure and honor to share my stories here! I will be taking a break to focus on some of my Patreon-exclusive content before I come back to tackle my unfinished pieces. Until next time, happy readings, everyone! 📚 🩵

Elijah stood by the door, leaning against the frame, watching his father with curiosity and apprehension as he meticulously folded clothes and placed them into his suitcase. The room was filled with quiet anticipation, which usually accompanies the beginning of a significant journey. "Dad," Elijah began, breaking the silence. Oliver looked up from his packing, a slight smile on his lips. "Spit it out," the blonde hunk replied. Elijah hesitated, his eyes searching his father's. "

Thank YOU, dear fellow author!

Always humbled by your sweet words!

The house in Sag Harbor was cloaked in the soft tints of twilight, the last remnants of daylight casting long shadows through the open windows. The quiet hum of the evening was broken only by the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore, a familiar lullaby that had always brought Oliver a sense of peace. But tonight, peace was elusive, slipping through his fingers like sand. In his bedroom, he moved with a practiced rhythm, his body entwined with a stranger whose name he hadn't bo

Oliver's naked body lay in bed, exhausted over the crumpled sheets from the intense lovemaking that had taken place during the last few days. Niko's room had become their world; their souls and bodies merged so tightly that neither could tell where one ended and the other began. Everything felt perfect, as if it were meant to be, and Oliver could hardly see a life beyond the boundaries of Niko's arms and the walls of that space. It had been a week since the blonde fled the hotel, and as far as h

I have to agree with everything so far. I've run into some cringe editing issues with my early work, but I own it. Proofreading my own stories has helped me evolve. However, I have considered, given my recent lack of time management skills, to ask for help. To be honest, I sometimes feel my work is a bit niche. But when it connects, it works. Readers seem to enjoy it, and I've built a solid readership that appreciates where I'm coming from and understands the kind of storytelling I'm going for. On a personal note, I did go through a rough patch earlier this year, which culminated in some egregious emails and pretty vile words from some, let's say, opinionated people...and for a split second there, I really doubted myself. But it was an enlightening experience as much as it was an unpleasant one. A learning curve, you could say, showing me that authors need to have a thick skin and stick to their guns. If one can manage that, the quality of one's work becomes exponentially better. Now, every time I sit down to work on a project, I always try to go back to that core feeling of inner joy I get when I'm writing. And I hold on to that for dear life! My only regret, when it comes to GA specifically, is not being able to find the time to read more of other authors' work. Between a full-time job, family, writing, and editing my stuff, I'm regrettably left with very little time and mental inclination to delve into other stories. But I definitely need to. Happy readings, everyone! 📚

Thank you for always finding the sweetest words to share. I appreciate it!

Very true. Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts and feedback!

I'm humbled by your sweet words 🙏 Thank you for taking the time to read my work! It means a lot 😊

Thank you so much for the positive feedback 😊 I'm so glad you enjoyed it!