Welcome to My Humble Writer’s Dungeon

your throat

My, what a lovely neck.
Mind if I give it a little squeeze? What’s the matter? Both hands. Yes, baby. I need a good grip. Mmmm — soft, warm.
Good throat. Strong pulse. Stop? Why? I’ll let go before I see blue. Promise.

I refer to it as The Pit. This is where wholesome stories start out with a happy-ever-after journey but are dismembered before arriving at its destination. Like life, it includes an uncomfortable truth or two to spoil things along the way.

They say truth is stranger than fiction. Nice. Let’s go with that. The truth is fluid anyway. Those who swear by it on the ground floor often claim something else on the next level above it. The one thing I know is that pure truth can be hazardous. Our purest feelings, thoughts, and dreams, can also go to the darkest of places. For some, this is just perfect. Fantastic discoveries are made in the darkness of blind honesty.

Prepare yourself. Discovery has teeth.

So, if you came looking to find a cliche of hope and happiness here, take a seat Cinderella. I’ll pop these cuffs around your ankles for a while. There you go. Now, let me talk to the sensible ones beside you.

Come on you lot, gather around. For those of you with a stomach strong enough to read my style of dark fiction, I’ve got something extra special for you. Take a walk with me. Come on. Exploration starts at this side of the pit. Step this way. Oh, don’t worry, if you think you’ll miss all the action while we’re gone, you won’t. Cinderella will still be here when we come back. I’m in no hurry to start working on her. We’ll come back and you’ll get to see what I’ve planned. I promise you’ll get to see everything.

I always take my time.



Hi. Welcome to the pit.

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