#publisher: madwoman press

[that-butch-archivist]

source: That's Ms. Bulldyke to You, Charlie! by Jane Caminos

[loafgeto]

hardcore thinking abt backstage sex with guitarist geto before his show rn 💔

contents: 18+ mdni, explicit language, guitarist!suguru, suguru is your bf, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, big dick suguru, dirty talk, creampie, ass slapping, and pet names. not proofread

— quick fic cuz yeah

“mm- sugu- s-slow down!“ you mewl, nails pressing into the cushion of the chair as suguru thrusts his fat throbbing cock into you from behind. he moans, throwing his head back slightly as his large hands grips around your hips.

“can’t. not when you came in here with this outfit of yours. making me hard on purpose before my show, eh?” suguru replies, hips slapping harsh against your ass. he can feel your pussy clench so tight around him, making him groan even more. at this point, he didn’t care if he was going to be late for his show— he needed to finish fucking the shit out of you. he was craving so much of you right now.

“wanted to look pretty- at your show-“ you’re barely unable to formulate words because of suguru’s furious thrusts into your pussy— rubbing against your g-spot and making you sensitive. your legs felt wobbly and your eyes rolled back as your moans resonate the backstage room. “did i look pretty to you, ‘guru?”

“yeah. so, so fucking pretty. you had all eyes on you when you stepped in here, did you notice that?” suguru tilts his head as you turn yours around to look at him. he slaps your ass, causing you to whine and nod.

“n-no, sugu! i was only looking for you-“ you gasp, feeling his cock penetrate deeper into your pussy, rubbing against your walls. your mind was becoming foggy, barely making you able to think properly— your moans fell out of your mouth continuously and you were so close to your orgasm.

suguru smiles, groping and smacking your ass again to get a little whine out of your pretty lips. he loves seeing that erotic expression on your face and the lust sparkling in your eyes piercing into his. he loves hearing how wet your pussy sounds, and how perfectly his cock spreads your walls.

out in the public, you were just an innocent and kind girl. but when you’re here, behind closed doors, you’re on your knees begging for suguru’s cock like a madwoman. as your back arches, suguru pumps his cock deeper and his tip kisses your womb— making you cum. but he didn’t stop fucking your aching pussy and you cry out louder.

“fuck- more, more! want more of your big cock!” you chant, not necessarily caring who could hear outside of the room. one of your hands go back to grip suguru’s hand that were still holding your hips, and he pounds his dick faster into you, just like you wanted.

“ngh- i’m gonna cum, baby,” suguru groans, pushing your ass closer to him as your nails nudge into the flesh of his skin.

“mm- yes.. cum in me, suguru!” you cry, your head falling back. you squeeze his cock and he moans out your name as he fucks his warm cum into your womb.

you’re both panting heavily as the backstage room permeates with the smell of sex. suguru slips his dick out of your cum filled pussy, and he watches as your mixed juices drip out and stream down your thighs. he smiles before leaning down, pressing a soft kiss on your neck and down your back.

“feel okay, baby?” suguru questions.

“mhm,” you nod, turning your heart and giving suguru a kiss.

there was a soft knock on the door, averting you and suguru’s attention away from each other. you both could hear the commotion outside, and when checking the time, you both realize that it was suguru’s show time.

“suguru? are you ready? your show is starting in a minute.”

“yeah. give me a minute,” suguru responds to the person, turning back to you and giving you a long kiss on the cheek. “see you in the crowd, princess.”

LOAF4U. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

[to-thelakes]

wet cat vibe

pairing; emily prentiss x fem!reader

summary; you get rained on on the way to emily's apartment.

warnings; fluff, pure fluff, slightly suggestive towards the end, reader in a summer dress

notes; okay, so this was a little one-shot that i wrote a few weeks ago after i saw a prompt and my friend suggested that emily would be perfect for it! i've never actually published anything like wlw but i thought i might as well bite the bullet and show emily some gay love because her being straight-ified by the show is a crime to me and me personally. she is my bisexual queen. thank u. so, please enjoy this little fluff

masterlist

When you agreed to go over to Emily’s after you were finished with work, it hadn’t been raining. In fact, it had been a beautiful sunny day and you were walking around in your flowy summer dress. It had been warm, idyllic and you hadn’t even realised that anything had changed. That was until you stepped out of work and it was raining. And not just normal rain, it was a fucking torrential downpour. You didn’t know what to do.

You had assumed that it would stay nice all day but no, of course not. You internally cursed yourself as you stared out at the rain. Why did you never check the goddamn weather app? Were you really that stupid?

Everyone had already left the office which left you alone to try and get to Emily’s without looking completely ridiculous. You crossed your arms over your chest, staring across the street as the rain bounced off the pavements.

Her apartment was only a few streets over and so you scouted out the area in front of you. There were quite a few buildings that overhung which meant that you could at least get some shelter. It would be fine. You just had to be strategic.

So, you waited for the traffic to clear up before you ran across the road. You looked like a madwoman, in a flowy dress while it poured with rain around you but you had definitely looked more insane before so this was nothing.

By the time you reached Emily’s apartment and despite your best attempts, you were still drenched right through. Your dress was becoming transparent thanks to the rain which Emily would love but currently, anyone could see which wasn’t exactly what you intended.

When you pressed the buzzer, Emily let you in with no question and you rode the elevator up. She was waiting for you at the apartment door, hip rested against the door frame as she looked you up and day. You tried not to laugh, a smile spreading across your face.

“Have you not heard of an umbrella? Jesus,” Emily said and you looked down at yourself. You were literally dripping water across the carpet, your hair (that was down over your shoulders) was dripping droplets of water across the fabric of your dress. You looked a mess.

“I’m going for the wet cat vibe. How do I look?” You asked as you reached her apartment door. Emily chuckled softly at you and you did a little twirl for her before facing her again. Emily shook her head in disbelief.

“Pathetic. Come on, you’re dripping everywhere,” Emily said as she urged you inside. You followed her and she closed the door. Her back rested against it as she took you in. She could very clearly see the lingerie that you had picked out just for her. Though, you had completely forgotten how see-through your dress was so you wandered over to the kitchen for a tea towel to wipe your face without a care in the world.

“You know, I think this is a good look,” You stated as you turned around to face Emily. She was leaning against the counter now, obviously checking you out.

“I think what’s underneath is better,” She responded and you chuckled softly, remembering exactly what she was looking at. You wiped off your face and your neck with the towel. Your hair was probably a lost cause for now so instead, you dropped it down and reached out for her hands and tugged her a little closer.

“I wore it just for you,” You teased. Emily hummed out in response, moving her hand to rest against your cheek, “Thought you’d like it but the whole building saw it before you did,” You muttered. Emily tilted your chin up a little.

“I don’t mind,” She responded, her lips inches away from yours, “As long as they know who you’re coming home to.” You couldn’t help the bashful smile that spread across your lips, the wetness between your legs. Emily had this subtle possessiveness to her that made you completely weak at the knees. It was ridiculous.

“Why don’t we show them?” You suggested. Emily grinned and tugged you towards the bedroom. It was going to be a long night.

[ratboyslim]

“We love our dead girls. We love them pretty, and we love them young: Aside from Houston, who was a practically ancient 48 years old at the time of her death, we have Amy Winehouse (27), Anna Nicole Smith (39), Princess Diana (36), Janis Joplin (27), Marilyn Monroe (36), Jayne Mansfield (34), Judy Garland (47), Zelda Fitzgerald (47)…and on and on, further and further back in time, probably back to the first woman who ever picked up a drink she couldn’t put down. The outpouring of love and grief that these women receive, in the wake of their deaths, tends to wipe their records clean. Amy Winehouse’s death caused much of the press to turn a complete 180 on her: NME Magazine, which had nominated her as one of its “Villains of the Year” in 2008, promptly rounded up celebrity quotes on her greatness once she was dead and thus incapable of further villainy. We’ve covered the most infamous profile of Winehouse, in which a reporter went to her house at four in the morning to cover the “little scabs that raid her face” and a photo of “Winehouse’s blurry face, taken from above with a phone in one hand and a gigantic penis in her mouth.” But it’s also notable that Rolling Stone, the same publication that made this story the cover, published tribute upon tribute after her death, opening one rapturous article by lamenting the fact that her “remarkable musical achievements were often overshadowed by her tumultuous personal life.” Well, yeah: You’re the ones who told the world about the dick-sucking photo. Where did you think the attention was going to gravitate? Similarly, during the massive international spectacle of Princess Diana’s death and funeral—the televised memorial service, with 3 million people in attendance and 2.5 billion watching at home; the streets full of flowers and weeping citizenry; the Elton John rewrite of “Candle in the Wind,” which became the best-selling single of all time—it was hard to even remember that the girl who was currently being eulogized as England’s Rose (You belong to heaven! Our nation lost without your soul!) had, in the last decade or so of her life, been portrayed as “crazy,” bulimic, and self-harming, addicted to media attention, and the subject of stories about how she’d thrown herself down flights of stairs and driven through Paris wearing only a fur coat and underpants. It did linger, a bit: It was too entrenched in her persona to do otherwise. In 1999, The New York Times endorsed author Sally Bedel Smith’s posthumous diagnosis of “borderline personality disorder,” and called Diana “unpredictable, egocentric, aggressive, insecure, manipulative, paranoid, possessive, easily bored, uneducated and a habitual liar.” (Sub-headline: “The author’s diagnosis explains why Diana was so rotten, but not why others seemed to like her.”) And yet, in the sea of flowers and tears and piano ballads, all seemed forgotten. Alive, she was a madwoman and a blight on the British crown. Dead, she was Ophelia, lost and lovely, garlanded and mourned as she passed downstream.”

Jude Doyle, "Trainwreck: The Women We Love to Hate, Mock, and Fear... and Why" (2016)

[alexsfictionaddiction]

Review: Snowflake by Louise Nealon

I am a huge Sally Rooney fan and I’m pretty sure that comparisons to Normal People is what triggered me to request this exciting new debut. Add the title to that and I knew it had the potential to be a novel that would speak to my entire generation. 

Debbie has been raised on her family’s dairy farm just outside of Dublin but the city life is a million miles from what she knows. Now that she is 18, she commutes to Trinity College a few days a week and is slowly starting to experience city life. Her family consists of her mother Maeve, a woman with erratic moods and an obsession with dreams and her uncle Billy, who lives in a caravan behind their house, drinking too much and ruminating on Greek mythology. Then a tragic accident turns the family on its head and Debbie is forced to face the fact that her life path may not be entirely hers to choose.

The White family farm is described so vividly and I had no problems finding myself wandering around the plot with Debbie. It’s set within a small Irish community and I really felt that I got an authentic experience of that. The village is full of eccentric characters, plenty of gossip and local spirit. Debbie is a true product of the community and it was clearly reflected in her reserved personality and fierce loyalty to her family.

There are moments of humour in there too and this usually appears during conversations between Debbie and her college friend Xanthe or in exchanges with her uncle Billy. Billy is a great character and he provides a large chunk of the comic relief in the book, which is much needed when things take a bleak turn. 

Of course, Debbie is at a vital developmental stage and with that comes a whole new world that she never even imagined within her sheltered life on the farm. Suddenly, she is discovering her own body and what it means to other people, sex and romantic relationships and friendships with people her own age. Neilon captures the anxieties and confusions of becoming an adult so well and it gave so much authenticity to Debbie’s character.

As with many coming-of-age stories, mental health is a big theme of the book. Debbie’s first experience of therapy reminded me of my own. It’s so hard to accurately describe and score how you’re feeling and there is a strong fear of being judged or misunderstood by what you write. I think anyone who has ever sought out help for anxiety or depression will be able to fully relate to this.

Debbie’s mother Maeve is eventually diagnosed with bipolar disorder and although she doesn’t seem to have been able to be a great mother to Debbie, there is obviously a huge amount of love between mother and daughter. There appears to be a genetic talent in the family that involves being able to experience other people’s dreams and it includes having premonitions. Following a pivotal point in the narrative that hits her particularly hard, Maeve retreats into herself. She obsessively writes down what her mind shows her and so she takes on a kind of madwoman in the attic role in the novel, stuck inside her own head. Despite her seemingly meaningless diatribes, Maeve actually touches on a lot of wisdom and I found her to be a truly fascinating character.

Of course, no contemporary novel about a young female is believable without at least one scene of extremely uncomfortable and unwanted male attention. Debbie learns very quickly that now that she is an adult, men have suddenly noticed that she exists. The idea that the female body is an available commodity is incredibly nauseous but it is inescapable to write about women’s experiences without touching on it. Even in the tiny, close-knit community that she has grown up in, Debbie is still a target for objectification. 

There is another strong, recurring theme of stories, their nature and their power. Billy in particular is constantly looking for new stories and he uses Greek myths to make sense of the world and teach Debbie about it. The idea that even stories that come from the same origins can be wildly different is a great comfort to those of us who are afraid of repeating the mistakes in our history. We can and will write our own versions of life and when we’re gone, they will live on never belonging to anyone.

Snowflake is a touching, honest portrait of a young girl who is just trying to do her best with the cards that she has been dealt. It’s about depression, dreams and stories and learning to thrive in a world that constantly challenges what you thought you knew. I really feel like these characters have the ability to stay with me for a while and because of that, I have a lot of faith that Snowflake might just be on the brink of huge success.

Snowflake by Louise Nealon is available in eBook and audiobook format now and will be published in hardback by Manilla Press, an imprint of Bonnier Books, on 13th May 2021.

[blossom862]

Mixed Match Challenge Part 2

Warning(s): Fluff, mentions of drugs, SMUT!

Note: This is my first time writing smut, so please be gentle. 

Word count: 3,682k

Y/W/N: Your Wrestling Name

Alofa: Love

Tag list for this series: @balorollinszayn​ @calwitch​

*** If you are under 18, please do not read this.****

After confessing your feelings to Roman, you guys decided to go out on a date since you both had the remaining week off. During the date, you guys got the chance to get to know each other better and immediately connected. Roman told you that he liked you and he wanted to get to know you more. He also told you that his kids meant the world to him and that he needed to know that you were okay with it.

“Y/N, I just want to know that you are okay with it. My kids are everything to me and the person that chooses to be by my side needs to know that. I know that you don’t have any and that maybe you don’t feel comfortable dating a man that already have children, but I j-“ before he had the chance to proceed with the mini-speech of his, you took his hand onto yours and looked at him with adoration in your eyes.

“Listen, I don’t care if you have kids or that you were married once. I want to be a part of your life. Hell! I want to meet them one day and tell them how amazing their father is.” You told him with a laughed and a quick wink.

“ Where had you’ve been all this time?” And with that said he learned to give you a quick peck on your lips.

After the first date, he took you to many other ones. To the park, to museums, to clubs, and even to your favorite restaurants. He treated you like a princess (and he still treats you like one). Later on, during a live event, he asked you to be his girlfriend. You couldn’t contain your excitement and jumped into his arms while placing multiples kisses all around his handsome face.

“Finally! I thought you never asked.”

All the WWE roster and even the fans know that you guys are dating, after that kiss you gave him after the Mixed Match Challenge, they knew that you guys were going to be an item after that. And they were not wrong.

The Raw roster was currently getting ready for their European tour but during the meantime, Stephanie and Hunter had given everybody a little break. All the wrestlers were busy making their luggage and saying goodbye to their loved ones since they knew they were gonna be gone for at least another 2 months. You were glad to have your boyfriend with you during the tour. He means the world to you and you to him.

You were currently packing and cleaning up your messy room since you barely have time to clean it. Who can judge you? You are always on the road and half the year you are either facing a new opponent or doing interviews.

“You know, I never thought that Y/W/N was such a messy person outside the ring.” 

You didn’t notice when Roman approached you and wrapped his strong arms around your curvy waist. You were so consumed by your thoughts that you couldn’t acknowledge his presence, till now.

Leaning back, you felt his lips against your neck. He was such a lovable a passionate lover. The big dog knew your body better than you did, and that was a surprise. No, you guys haven’t slept together yet, but you guys had done other things other than kissing. You could say he knows what to do with that mouth of his.

“Hmmm, baby. Don’t start something that you can’t continue. You know we need to make sure we have everything we need for this upcoming trip. You know how much I hate procrastination.” You murmured to him while giving him a tender kiss. Gently, he grabbed your chin and proceed to raise your head for you to admire his brown eyes while he spoke.

“Don’t challenge me, sweetheart. Just because we haven’t slept together doesn’t mean I can’t make you see stars. I know your principles and you know mines. I won’t make you do anything that you don’t want. So honey, get your pretty little butt moving and finish packing and when you finish, I’ll guarantee you I’m giving you the best orgasm of your life and you can believe that.” With that said, he planted a fierce but loving kiss on your plump and red lips.

Mesmerized by the sudden gesture, you wrapped your left arm around his neck while pressing your lower back against his. Deepening the kiss, he took the opportunity to turn you around to have your face to face. Both of you were so into the moment that you guys didn’t realize that someone was in the room as well.

“Ugh really? Can’t you guys don’t do that here?” Grounded a masculine voice near the door of your room.

Putting your hands on Roman's chest, you gently pushed him away and disconnected your lips from his.

Clearing his throat, Roman looked at the individual that had entered the room without permission ready to argue.

“Listen, man, haven’t you heard of privacy? Or perhaps knocking?” Roman said while whipping his mouth with his thumb.

“Hey! You guys knew I was here. Next time I’m staying at the hotel.” And with that said, Seth turned around and headed out of the room not before closing the door. 

Jesus! If Seth didn’t interrupt the two of you, you didn’t know if you were gonna stop yourself from jumping and riding him like a madwoman. 

It is not that you were a virgin or anything, but you wanted to wait a little longer before you guys take that big step in the relationship. Before Roman, you were involved with another wrestler. He always was there for you, he supported you and encourage you to be better in everything you set your mind to. Everything was going amazing for the both of you, the WWE universe knew that you guys were together and you were the “IT” couple long before Maryse and The Miz were.

Sadly, after being involved with each other for so long, you discovered that he was cheating on you with one of the WWE interviewers. After the scandalous breakup, he decided to publish online some intimate photos that you had sent to him when you guys were dating. You were devasted in such a way that you almost turned to drugs. If it wasn’t for Seth and your brother, you didn’t know if you were able to go through it. After that, you swear to never send pics or be intimate with someone else after getting to know the person and had at least waited a year.

You talked to Roman about it and to your surprise, he took it well.

“Baby girl, I’m not going to pressure you to do something you don’t want to do. If you want to wait a year or even two, I would wait as long as you want. That doesn’t take the fact that I want to be with you. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to make love to you as soon as possible, but if you are not ready, then we won’t. I’ll wait as long as I have to because I like you.”

Roman was a true gentleman and you were lucky to have him in your life. 

“Well, I think that is my clue to finish packing. Oh god, who I am lying to? I want you so bad it physically and mentally hurts.” You growled while giving him a sad smile. You were so desperate to be in his arms and give yourself to the man standing next to you. 

Taking a couple of steps towards you, Roman tugged a curl behind your ear while kissing the top of your nose. Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your small arms around his waist while bitting your lower lip.

“Oh, baby girl you don’t have any idea how much I’m trying to control myself. Is impossible to not touch you whenever you are near. When I’m with you, I feel like a horny teenager again.” He spoke while laughing and kissing your shoulder. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were currently putting your wrestling gear and preparing yourself for your match against Becky Lynch. After your long-time rivalry with Sasha Banks, Stephanie decided to give you a shot to become the next WWE Raw Women Champion. You were so excited about the opportunity and it didn't matter that you were facing Seth’s Rollins girlfriend. Every single person who comes to the WWE has one goal in mind, and that is to become Champion. 

“Baby girl, are you ready to kick some ass?” Shouted Roman while entering the private dressing room that you both shared.

After announcing that you guys were partners, Hunter decided to give you guys a separate and private dressing room. He told you that the majority of the couples had their own. Roman had a smirk the entire time Hunter was talking to the both of you.

Lacing your knee-length boots, you proceed to answer his previous question with a happy “hell yeah” and with a small giggle.

Seating down in the bench that was located next to you, he placed his left hand in your left butt-cheek without caring.

“I cannot wait to see you held that title in your hands. You deserve that title opportunity.” He whispered against your ear. Giving you a small slap in your behind. He took your hand in his and carefully gave you a long kiss on your lips.

Following his lead, you deepen the kiss while caressing his long and glamorous mane. Sliding one of your hands under his shirt, you proceeded to caress his chest. Taking the hint, he took his shirt off and trowed it behind his back. 

“Hmm, you are so damn handsome” you whispered against his chest. You deposited some small pecks against his chest while looking at him with your big Y/E/C. He places his hand against your rebel curls and tugged gently. 

“Y/N, alofa. I’m so hard right now.” He spoke while patting softly.

Giving him a small smirk, you sensually kneed in front of him. Slowly, you started to run your hands all over his enormous and manly thighs. You were obsessed with the man’s thighs. Just the thought of having your pussy against his thighs is enough to make you wet.

Looking at him through your long eyelashes, you noticed how excited Roman was getting. Unzipping his dark pants and pulling them down, you started to careless him through his Calvin Klein boxers.

“Hmm, Y/N. If you keep doing that I’m not going to last much longer. Baby please, do something.” Protested the big dog while desperately shoving his clothe member right in your face. Giggling, you decided that it was time to stop playing games and take action. After giving his member a small peck, which made Roman moaned, you release him from his underwear and started to massage him. Gently but with a firm grip, you started to pump his dick.

“Oh, g-god ba-by girl. Yes, just like t-that.” Whispered Roman while throwing his head back. 

After making sure he was hard as a rock, you decided to take the next step and put your mouth to great use. Taking his tip in your mouth, you started to suck him softly. Moans were all you could hear all around the dressing room. Stroking and bobbling his member as fast as you could, you were determined to make him cum.

You were so turned on that you started to touch yourself. Pulling down your tight wrestling shorts, you slid your unoccupied hand under your panties. Teasing your clit with your middle finger, you started to moan against his dick.

You tried to take him all the way, but the man was so damn big that you had to wrap and pump your fingers on the parts that your mouth could not take. 

“Oh shit, Y-y/N, I’m gonna........ FUCK” his head tilted back and his mouth agape when he released into your mouth. Small moans were coming out of your plump lips

Watching him come undo before you was enough to make you start moaning. Rapidly, you started to touch your clit and inserted two fingers in order to make yourself cum. You felt two big hands caressing your curly hair.

“Stop baby girl. I want to be the one to make you cum.” The strong man took your busy hand in his and slowly started to suck on your dripping fingers. After a couple of minutes of sucking and tasting your nectar, he releases your fingers with a loud and sensual “pop”.

A small “fuck, you taste so good.” came out of his mouth.

You couldn’t take it anymore and started to take off your top. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you position yourself to ride him as fast as you could. Tonight was the night that you would let yourself lose. You needed him and you were gonna take some action.

“Wait, baby. Are you sure you want our first time to be like this? Don’t you want to wait for a little more ?” Asked Roman while pulling you gently away from him to look at you in the eyes.

You could see that he was nervous but at the same time, he was filled with lust. You couldn’t judge him, he was a man after all.

“I’ve never been so sure in my life. I want you and I want you right now. Make me cry, daddy.” That was the key that helped you release the big dog. Taking you in his huge arms, he turned you over and made you stand in front of him with your back towards him. He positions you in a way that had you stretch for him. Both of your hands were against the lookers, one of your legs was on top of the bench, and your ass was press against his lower abdomen.

You felt his hand caressing your lower back with such love and determination to make you feel good.

You turned your head around to see what was taking him so long. You were desperate to be close to him. You were going to protests but before you could even say anything, he pulled your shorts down and without any words he slowly but gently stated to enter you.

“Ooh.... y-yes. Just like that baby.” You moaned while making eye contact with Roman. You had never felt this kind of pleasure before. Yes, you had sex with your previous partner, but it was nothing compared to this.

With each passing minute, he started to pick up his speed and before you know it he was making you see stars.

“Yes... omg yes. Ugh.....pull my hair, Ro. Use me, destroy me.” You shouted while wrapping your hands on his neck.

Instead of getting a reply back, he took your chin in his hand and gave you a desperate but passionate kiss. It took you a minute to identify the sudden pressure in your lower abdomen. You were about to cum any minute now. Pulling away from the kiss, you looked at him in the eyes before telling him that you were about to come.

“Ugh, n-not yet. I-I want to cum with you. T-together. Let’s cum together Y/N.”

“I’m coming.... fuck I’m coming so hard.” You told him while touching and giving your breast the attention they craved.

“Oh fuck, yes. Touch yourself, baby. Ugh, I’m coming soon.” And with that said, you both orgasm together.

“Oh FUCK! ROOOO.”

You only heard him let out a loud groan before pulling out of you and before you could register what was happening, you felt his cum in your ass cheeks.

“Jesus, your low key makes me feel like I’m in my twenties again. What did you do to me woman?”

Letting out a tired laugh, you gave him one last kiss before giving him a loving hug.

“I love you so much, Roman.”

“I love you too sweetheart. You don’t know how much I love you.”

——————————

“Weighting Y/W pounds, accompanied by Roman Reigns, from Y/C. Y/W/N!”

The cameraman gave you the signal for you to get out to the main arena.

Roman was holding your hand while waving to the crowd. You couldn't have asked for more support than the one you were receiving at that moment. Your fans we're going insane plus your boyfriend was being so supportive.

Once settling in the ring, you waited for your opponent with your favorite Samoan next to you.

”Relax baby girl, you are gonna be just fine. Take a deep breath.” whispered Roman while caressing your delicate face.

Whoa

Whoa

Whoa

Hey!Hey!hey

”And her opponent, from Dublin, Ireland. Accompany by the Architect, she is the Raw Women's Champion, The Man”

With great determination, Becky walks down towards the ring with a serious look on her face. If looks could kill you'll be dead already by the look she gave you once in the ring.

Seth and Roman were both looking intensely at each other while supporting their girlfriends which were about to face each other for the Championship.

Becky took several steps toward you and held her Women's Championship high in the air. Your noses we're touching and if it wasn't for Roman that gave you a quick tug you probably would have started the fight right away.

”This fight is for the Raw Women's Championship. The challenger, from Y/H/T, Y/N!” shouted Jojo with a big smile on her face.

You turned around and gave the crowd a big wink while doing your signature pose in which Becky rolled her eyes.

”The defender, she is the Raw Women's Champion, Becky Lynch.” with that said she gave you a challenging look and made her way to the robes in which she raised the championship hire.

”I’m your damn Champion!” she shouted to the loud crowd.

Once she made her way to her corner, Roman gave you a quick peck on the lips and made his way down to the ring not before giving Seth a ”you better not get involved” look.

Once the bell ring, Becky took you from your curls and gave you a hard punch in your abdomen. It took you a minute to recover from it, but once you were capable of acknowledging your surroundings, you pushed yourself up.

The woman was laughing at you while looking at you with pity in his malicious eyes.

“AWWWWW, look at her. She thinks she the best of the best because she dating “The Big Dog”. She shouted at you while approaching you.

She thought that she had the upper hand, but before she could throw another punch at you, you decided to do something crazy that could help you win for sure. You wanted to finish as soon as possible and take the Raw Women’s Champion home with you.

Taking her by surprise, you performed one of her moves, “the Exploder Suplex” and later on you played dirty and performed her signature move “ Dis-arm-her”.

The crowded was going insane and Seth tried to distract the referee by climbing over the ropes, but Roman took him by his shirt and performed a DDT to him.

“Come on BECKY!!!! Tappppp. Your streak is over. I’m the next champion.” You screamed at him with great fury.

“AGH!!!” she protested but the pain was too much and even someone like The Man could not handle it.

Without any words, she gave you the nastiest glance and proceed to rapidly tap.

With that said, the announcer announced the victory while the referee took you by the shoulders in order to separate you from the Irish woman.

“The winner of this match and the NEW RAW WOMEN’S Championship, Y/W/N!”

Giving you the title, the referee abandoned the ring while Roman climbed over the ring.

“I’m so proud of you baby!” He told you while wrapping his arms around you.

You couldn’t be so proud of your accomplishment.

“How do you feel right now?” Asked Jojo while resting her left arm on your shoulders. She was one of your closes friends in the company. You could see how proud she was of you for winning the Raw Women’s Championship.

Trying to stop your patting, you looked up from the title to her.

“Well Jo, you know how hard I’ve been working to have this opportunity. Since I was a little girl I always had a vision of not only becoming champion but also inspire people to achieve their dreams. So I’m standing right here and I’m looking at every single one of this amazing crowd here tonight and I’m filled with so much happiness right now. This year had been filled with so many blessings and positive things that had changed my life for the better. I started dating this amazing and handsome as hell man standing next to me. And now, I’m the new Raw Women’s Champion. What else can I wish for?” When you said that, the crowd started to cheer.

Roman wrapped his arms around you while giving you a delicate kiss in your head.

“Y/W/N, I gotta say, I’ve never seen you this happy before. I’m so happy that you had found the right person for you. Before letting you go celebrate tonight’s victory with your boo, I had to say that you’ve had inspired so many people through your journey here in the WWE. As a friend and as a woman myself, from behalf of all of the women here present, I’m thanking you for demonstrating how far women had come in the wrestling business. We love you and I couldn’t have been more proud of you love.”

All around you all you could hear from the crowd was a chorus of “You deserve it!” And “Who's the Man now?”

“That’s right! My baby girl is the NEW Women’s Champion and I couldn't be so proud.” With that said, he wrapped his strong arms around you and gave you an intense kiss. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WOOOOWWWW!!! That was intense as hell!! I gotta said it took me a while to finish this because I’ve been having some writer’s block. Anyway, like I always said, I apologize for any grammar errors and I hope you guys liked the final part of this short-short story. Also, my ask is always open and ready to write some new imagines.

*This story is mine, I don’t give permission to post it on another social media. I spend a lot of time on it.

[metatiki]

Chapters: 7/8

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford Summary:

Angsty Cullrian story about what happens if everything goes wrong after it’s fixed?

Note: This work is experimental storytelling for me. I initially wrote if for the Cullrian Discord I participate in (The Herald’s Rest, check it out!) but decided to go ahead and publish it. Expect to see a new chapter every few days.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phase 7: Nightmare

The first few moments after moving through the mirror proved to be disorienting, at least for Dorian. The world swam about him as one of the most fundamental awarenesses he'd drilled into himself, the one connected intimately with the magic he held close to his chest, suddenly stretched and snapped and slipped gracelessly into a different beat. He gasped and fell to his knees as he struggled to re-anchor himself in the impossibility of this place, unaware for the moment of the other men, at least until one of them leaned over and lightly touched his shoulder.

The touch snapped Dorian out of his reverie, and he hastily pushed himself to his feet and gave Cullen's anxiety a reassuring smile. I'm fine.

Except he wasn't. They stood in a place where time itself moved to a different beat, and Dorian felt the echoes of the world he'd left behind years ago, the world where the Inquisitor never left Haven, where Cullen and Dorian had drifted into eternal slumber in each others' arms as the snows of Skyhold fell around them. Memories which were his yet were not flashed before his eyes, and it took effort not to stare at Cullen for longer than a moment or two as memories of another world whirled in his head.

It was Bull who broke that silence, settling his hands on Dorian's and Cullen's shoulders. This way. You need to hear this.

As they set into motion, Dorian's steps felt muffled, as if each step pressed him through layers of worlds unknown and lives unnumbered. Sound and light dimmed around him, leaving only the men walking by his side, save that they shifted identity step by step, each step resounding in his head with the impact of a Qunari cannon.

Boom He walked between Bull and Cullen, just as they had entered, save there was utter darkness around and within them.

Boom A younger version of himself was on his left, and a Cullen with white hair and stooped shoulders smiled at him from his right.

Boom Bull, covered in blood, strode forward with an angry expression on his face while Cullen stumbled along, pressing a hand against the wound in his side.

Boom Corypheus moved in front of him, and a blond Templar clad in armor the color of red lyrium held the other end of the chain wrapped around Dorian's neck.

Boom His father commanded him to walk faster as Rilienus tried to hold him back.

Boom Tears on his face, Varric lifted the body of the child in his arms as--

Boom The Inquisitor screamed at the Nightmare demon as its claws wrapped around--

Boom The life drained from Cullen's eyes as snow melted in Dorian's hair.

Suddenly the strange melange of realities in his mind burst, letting him scramble it back into a semblance of the here and now as a hand settled on his shoulder and pulled him to a halt. Are you sure you're all right?

Dorian forced himself to relax as he met Cullen's gaze, seeing the concern on the man's face laying atop years' worth of pain and anger. I'm fine. This place just takes a bit of acclimation.

Come on, Bull urged, and this time Dorian held Cullen's hand, using the man's presence to anchor himself into the right world. Or at least, the one he'd made his own through his interference in the timeline. This was the right world, wasn't it?

Pushing the question aside, Dorian tried to analyze the oddities around them as they walked forward at a brisk pace: broken down architecture, stairs climbing into nowhere, the sky that looked similar to the Fade, save that this was not the Fade--as Dorian well knew after his sojourn in Adamant. Besides, in the Fade, he'd never felt the weight of a thousand worlds land on his shoulder, not like here. This place...it was the center of something, a point of intersection, but for what? And by what mechanism?

What is this place? Cullen asked, staring at a half-destroyed staircase as they walked beneath it.

That mirror you saw? Bull asked. Lots of mirrors like that, and they all lead here. This place is sort of a crossroads for them, or something. Bull grunted. At least, that's what I was told. The way he said it made it clear he didn't really think he knew everything he needed to know. Anyway, some people are going to meet in here, and you really need to hear what they say.

As Dorian pondered the matter of mirrors and how many worlds they resided in, Cullen frowned. Why didn't you tell me any of this before? Or about Dorian? Or about--

A large explosion shook the ground under them, and Bull cursed as he lumbered into a run. No time. We'll lose our chance soon.

For wh-- Dorian started to ask, but then stumbled as another explosion rocked through this odd place. The shockwave blasted through some of the already decrepit ruins around them, and soon they were all dodging bits of falling masonry as they dashed towards a mirror directly ahead. As they ran, Dorian caught glimpses of other mirrors in the distance amidst all sorts of impossible architecture, but in the end, both Bull's urgency and the shaking ground ushered them forward and through the mirror the Qunari had chosen.

And into madness.

The air ahead glowed and crackled with magic, a mixture of purple and green which stained the heavens and blew over the land with the force of the gods. As Dorian's vision struggled to adjust despite the chaos of light and darkness, Bull grabbed him and Cullen and hauled them behind a crumbling wall. It's dangerous out there, he muttered. We have to be careful.

Suddenly a wordless scream of rage echoed over the battlefield, followed by an extensive string of profanity which culminated in an explosive cacophony that lit the sky with a bright green glow. Cullen stiffened. That's the Inquisitor.

Yeah. It's complicated. Bull heaved himself around, then started to follow the wall. Stay close. We can't be seen.

As they moved along the wall, Dorian took every opportunity to peer through the cracks. Over time, he managed to stitch together a view of a battle fought between Inquisition and Qunari forces, yet somehow there was also a Qunari mage--saarebas, he reminded himself--locked in a magical duel with the Inquisitor herself. When they reached the end of the wall and Bull paused to consider his next move, Dorian turned and looked over the battle. His eyes widened as he saw the Inquisitor suddenly scream again, hunching over her arm as the green light pulsed through her body. He could feel the tension of the magic even from here, and braced himself for the inevitable uncoiling.

I will control you, the Inquisitor roared at her hand, but it was too late. The magic tore loose from the anchor, yanking her up to dangle in the air as another wave of green magic burst out and knocked everyone to their knees once more.

That's our chance, Bull grunted, pointing ahead. Dorian turned to see a Qunari woman turn from the battle and slip through one of the mirrors. That's where we need to go.

But, Cullen began, the Inquisitor knows where my--

Has to wait. Bull reached out to take Cullen's hand, an oddly intimate gesture that made Dorian raise an eyebrow. Trust me. She won't be far behind.

Cullen gave a sigh of frustration, but in the end he nodded. I trust you, Bull.

Dorian's other eyebrow rose to join the first one, but there was no time to pursue that. In the end it didn't matter as Cullen took Dorian's hand and gave him a weary smile. At least we'll be together after all this.

Dorian smiled in return, the warmth of the man's presence filling him. Yes. Yes, of course we will. I'm never letting you out of my sight again, amatus.

Come on, you two. You'll have time to fuck again later, Bull said with a grin, then burst out of hiding and ran to the mirror, disappearing from sight as the surface of the mirror glimmered.

The ground shook, almost drowning out the Inquisitor's screams as the sky lit with green once more, this time mingling with a bright purple aura from the saarebas' magic. Dorian's hand tightened around Cullen's, and after a shared nod they both ran after Bull and dove through the mirror.

On the other side, they stumbled to a halt next to Bull, staring at the veritable forest of Qunari statues in disturbingly lifelike poses which stretched before them. Dorian's magical senses tingled as he realized that they weren't just statues, but even as he opened his mouth to warn his companions, they heard a familiar voice speak in the distance, followed by an angry response.

Well, shit, Bull grunted, then broke into a run.

Dorian and Cullen again followed after him as the argument ahead grew more heated, and they all skid to a halt just in time to see the woman Qunari who'd led them through the mirror solidify into solid granite. And beyond her, walking towards another of the large mirrors...

Solas, Dorian breathed.

Solas paused in his stride, then turned to face them. You are not who I expected, he admitted.

Crossing his arms over his broad chest, Bull said, Yeah, well, it's complicated.

Moreso than you might believe, Solas said in hushed tones. His gaze suddenly sharpened and looked past them, and a frown settled onto his face. They are here.

Puzzled about the whole affair, Dorian turned to look behind them, eyes widening as he saw the Inquisitor stumbling towards them. Her left arm crackled and glowed with the same green energy as he'd seen before, but her right arm... Dorian's eyes widened as he saw the child clenched within its grip. Even before Cullen stepped forward with a cry, he knew it to be Cullen's daughter--yet who but a madwoman would bring a child to a battle?

Or, his mind whispered, a desperate woman.

But desperate for what? Dorian simply could not make sense of it.

Solas, the Inquisitor grated in a voice that was half sob, half groan, ignoring all others as she staggered past them to get closer to her goal. You will stay. This time, you will stay.

Solas' expression grew distant, and his tone held more than a little disdain. And why is that, Inquisitor?

With clear effort, the Inquisitor held the little girl in front of her, and Dorian's heart froze as he saw the way the child's head hung limply to one side. Surely even the Inquisitor wouldn't harm her own child, would she?

Even as Cullen stepped forward with mouth open and arm half-raised, however, her next words lashed through the air like a whip. Because I have your daughter.

[rschmidth]

Read PDF Madhouses, Mad-Doctors, and Madmen: The Social History of Psychiatry in the Victorian Era -- Andrew Scull

Madhouses, Mad-Doctors, and Madmen: The Social History of Psychiatry in the Victorian Era - Andrew Scull

READ & DOWNLOAD Andrew Scull book Madhouses, Mad-Doctors, and Madmen: The Social History of Psychiatry in the Victorian Era in PDF, EPub, Mobi, Kindle online. Free book, AudioBook, Reender Book Madhouses, Mad-Doctors, and Madmen: The Social History of Psychiatry in the Victorian Era by Andrew Scull full book,full ebook full Download.

 Read / Download Madhouses, Mad-Doctors, and Madmen: The Social History of Psychiatry in the Victorian Era

DESCRIPTION BOOK : The Victorian Age saw the transformation of the madhouse into the asylum into the mental hospital; of the mad-doctor into the alienist into the psychiatrist; and of the madman (and madwoman) into the mental patient. In Andrew Scull's edited collection Madhouses, Mad-Doctors, and Madmen, contributors' essays offer a historical analysis of the issues that continue to plague the psychiatric profession today. Topics covered include the debate over the effectiveness of institutional or community treatment, the boundary between insanity and criminal responsibility, the implementation of commitment laws, and the differences in defining and treating mental illness based on the gender of the patient.

 DETAIL BOOK :

Author : Andrew Scull

Pages : 400 pages

Publisher : University of Pennsylvania Press

Language :

ISBN-10 : 0812211197

ISBN-13 : 9780812211191

 Supporting format: PDF, EPUB, Kindle, Audio, MOBI, HTML, RTF, TXT, etc.

Supporting : PC, Android, Apple, Ipad, Iphone, etc.

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[mbirds]

Witches, Princesses and Women at Arms

I am so thrilled to be featured in this new anthology of erotic lesbian fairytales (the best combination of three words I can think of) edited by Sacchi Green and published by Cleis Press.  I have read the published anthology and can attest to there being a story that will appeal to everyone.  You want action and plot with swords and dragons? Gotcha.  How about lyrical writing and slow-burning love? No problem. Pure, decadent smut? But of course! Comedy and sexy banter? Sure thing.  Whatever sort of tone or mood you’re looking for, you’ll find it in this delicious collection of brilliant writers.  It’s super flattering to be a part of it.

My story is called “Woodwitch,” and it was probably the fastest short story I’ve ever written.  Over the course of two evenings the words flew off the page. Even though I’ve never written a similar story before, I think that ‘fairytale voice’ was already in my hands and fingers.  I just had to uncurl them, and it was free.  I was raised on old dusty books of fairytales, where the princesses were always fair, the witches always hideous, and the endings always wet with blood and justice.  “Woodwitch” tells a familiar story: a princess disguises herself as a man and goes off to war.  However, the story diverges a bit on the battlefield, where the princess meets a truly uncommon witch. I tried to capture a little of that old fairytale darkness: the threat of violence that lies at the edge of the woods, or in the witch’s cottage, or behind the keen eyes of the wolf.  There’s definitely a bit of “Game of Thrones” inspiration as well; my world is vaguely magical and medieval, but with a healthy dose of modern day sexism and war-mongering. (One day I SWEAR I’m going to write a fairytale where women don’t have to disguise themselves as men to go to war, and are free to live the lives they please without fear.  It seems sad that I could imagine a world of magic and witchcraft, but gender equality just seemed a little too much of a stretch...)

Anyway. Wanna take a peak?

The battle raged for the rise and fall of two moons, and when at last the enemy ran staggering from their sight, the princess found herself slick with sweat and blood. She had cut down two men, she knew that much. Maybe more. One had his throat slit open, wet red roses blooming over the dry earth. One had her sword buried in his belly, opened up around her blade like rotten meat. The princess had been sick after that, but the ground was so mired in filth, the air so ripe with smoke, that no one had taken any notice of her.

There were fewer of her number than before, and as she stood amidst the thinned crowd of the injured and the dying, she realized that her leg was bleeding.

Cursing, she tore a strip from her tunic. The cut was high and deep, rending both skin and muscle. Even as she bound it, blood spilled from the bandage like dark fingers, the pain enough to make her dizzy. She had felt numb before, fueled only by pure and terrified survival, but in the aftermath of battle all her injuries were making themselves known. Her muscles screamed with exhaustion, her ribs throbbed where she had been kicked. She took a hesitant step, and felt bile at the back of her throat.

She wondered if her brothers had felt like this after battle. She wondered if she was a true knight now, now that she had stopped a man’s heart.

“That wound needs seeing to.”

The princess did not know who spoke until she noticed the dark-haired witch a few yards away, moving like a dancer between the crows and carrion. The princess ignored her, pulling the binding tighter. The witch was not looking at her, crouched and peering into the mouth of a fallen soldier. When she jerked her arm, the princess realized she was pulling teeth from the corpse, strange pinching tools clutched in one hand and a rattling bag in the other.

“It is ungodly to desecrate the dead,” the princess said, despite the heartbeat of pain running from her leg to her throat. 

“The dead don’t need their teeth.” The witch stood, brushing off her skirts. “And the eyetooth of one killed in violence can be used as a charm against drowning.”

“That is ridiculous.”

“Not if a sailor believes it.” The witch looked at the princess then, bird-black eyes narrowed in suspicion.

At last, the princess thought, and then felt alarmed. Those words meant nothing. She had been waiting for nothing.

“The battlefield is no place for a woman,” the princess said, because that was what a true knight would say.

“I am ministering to the wounded.”

“You are mutilating corpses.”

“Bit of both, then.” The witch came closer. “I tell it true, m’lord. That wound will fester if not tended. I’ve seen men lose their legs to shallower cuts.”

“I have bound it. I can see to it myself.”

“Aye, bound it in your own rags, you have. In a fortnight, it will be black and you’ll be begging for your friends to take a blade to it.” The witch knelt suddenly, digging her hands into the soil. After a moment, she rose again, thin fingers clutching damp, gray earth.

“Beggar’s clay,” the witch said, meeting the princess’s eye. “It will draw the sickness out.”

“I have no need of your black magic.” The thought of those hands against her skin made the princess feel nauseous. She hunched her shoulders, ready to be sick, but there was no food in her belly. She sank to her knees and heaved, dryly. The ground was spinning again, and the princess lay down on her back, squeezing her eyes shut. When she opened them, the witch was peering down at her.

“Lie still, for I do not wish to cut you.” With a flash of silver, the witch sliced through the meager bandage with her dagger. The princess flinched, trying to force the other woman away.

“Lie still, I said,” the witch hissed, spitting into her hand before smearing the clay mixture against the princess’s thigh. The relief was immediate, and the princess almost let out a gasp in her true voice, a breathy female gasp that would have revealed her immediately.

Luckily, she composed herself in time. She had been playing this role for too long to let a kohl-eyed crone unmask her now.

“There now,” the witch murmured. “Bind soft cotton over the clay, and change it nightly. In two days’ time, the pain will ebb. In a moon, the scar will fade.”

“Away from me, madwoman.” The princess scrambled backward, putting distance between them. The witch still knelt before her, eyes wide and curious.

“As skittish as a colt, you are. And no more than a lad, I’d bet my throwing stones on it. I’ve never seen a grown man with eyes so blue.”

The princess cast her blue eyes toward the ground. Many knights had thought her a boy before this; it was as good a disguise as any. Still, she remembered the witch’s rough hand on her thigh, and felt a tremor run through her. It might have been fear, but it did not feel like fear.

“Fare thee well, then, my errant knight.” The witch rose, wiping her clay-covered hands on her skirt. She tossed a look over her shoulder as she strode off into the smoke, and the princess watched the corner of her mouth curl, like the whorls of black ink marking her forearms.

‘An ill omen, she is,’ the princess thought, and her thoughts had the same low pitch as her voice these past few weeks. Already she was forgetting what she truly sounded like. Or perhaps she’d always sounded like this—gravel throated and weary. Perhaps this life was her truth now, and the other was nothing but a dream. A fairy tale.

If you liked that, you’ll love the rest of the anthology! Comment below for a chance to win a free copy!

THE GIVEAWAY and LINKS

Anyone who comments on any of these blog posts will be entered in a drawing for a paperback copy (in North America) or an ebook (elsewhere) of Witches, Princesses, and Women at Arms. Each blog you comment on gives you one more entry.

 Here’s the lineup of blog posts.

June 14th: Sacchi Green-“Trollwise” (plus the Introduction)

www.sacchi-green.blogspot.com

June 15th: Cara Patterson-“Steel”

www.sacchi-green.blogspot.com

June 16th: Michael M. Jones-“The Miller’s Daughter”

michaelmjones.com

June 19th: H.N. Janzen-“The Prize of the Willow”

www.sacchi-green.blogspot.com

June 20th: Annabeth Leong-“The Mark and the Caul”

http://annabethleong.blogspot.com/2017/06/the-mark-and-caul-origin-story.html

June 21st: Brey Willows-“Penthouse 31”

breywillows.com

 June 22nd: Salome Wilde-“The Princess’s Princess”

sacchi-green.blogspot.com

 June 23nd: Emily L. Byrne-“Toads, Diamonds and the Occasional Pearl”

writeremilylbyrne.blogspot.com

 June 26th: A.D.R. Forte-“Warrior’s Choice”

sacchi-green.blogspot.com

 June 27th: M. Birds-“Woodwitch”

mbirds.tumblr.com

 June 28th: Madeleine Shade-“Robber Girl”

https://www.facebook.com/carina.bissett.5

 June 29th: Lea Daley-“The Sorceress of  Solisterre”

sacchi-green.blogspot.com

June 30th: Allison Wonderland-“SWF Seeks FGM”

aisforallison.blogspot.com

[that-butch-archivist]

source: That's Ms. Bulldyke to You, Charlie! by Jane Caminos

[24hourchampagnediet-blog1]

Robin Swoboda: A very mooooving experience in Colorado - News - Akron Beacon Journal

New Post has been published on https://bestrawfoodrecipes.com/robin-swoboda-a-very-mooooving-experience-in-colorado-news-akron-beacon-journal/

Robin Swoboda: A very mooooving experience in Colorado - News - Akron Beacon Journal

If you have been reading my column for any length of time, you know I am not shy about sharing my mishaps and foibles. I sometimes think of myself as a human “anti-motivational poster” for how not to live your life. In other words, “I make the mistakes so you don’t have to.”

This past Monday morning, when I was supposed to be at the doctor’s office getting my second suspicious breast lump measured to see if there had been any growth indicating cancer had returned, I was instead unpacking my suitcase, a chore I detest with a passion.

To say I was looking forward to the appointment was an understatement. It would mean getting the wondering out of the way and, believe it or not, I was also enthusiastic about stepping on the scale. The last time I’d been there was eight weeks ago, when I tipped the scale at a number I’d rather not mention.

While I would like to blame it on menopause, I rather suspect it was my epic failure at the Keto Diet. A breakfast of bacon and eggs, pork rinds with blue cheese dressing for lunch and a pork chop over wilted spinach with olive oil and garlic is Keto all right but one piece of cheese pizza or a bowl of popcorn before bed blows the whole thing. It also causes you to blow out your buttons, zippers or really anything that doesn’t have Spandex. Though blowing out a pair of Spanx is not out of the question.

Ready to wave a surrender flag of marshmallow fluff and just be a little fluffy for the rest of my life, my dear friends Mary and Frank invited me out to their home in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, for a week of hiking and enjoying some of God’s most beautiful creation.

You may recall I went out there last year and had the up close but not too personal encounter with a mountain lion, which had watched me getting dressed through the glass patio door before slinking past my open bedroom windows. It startled me so that my kneecaps vibrated for a good 15 minutes.

Before we had arrived there had been much talk of mountain lions in the area yet few had actually seen one. I was the lucky one.

This trip, however, there was much more talk about bears. Bears in horse pastures, bears in town, bears on people’s porches.

So you can understand my shock when I awoke early one morning to what was a very unusual and unfamiliar noise outside. With my back to the open windows, my eyes widened as I heard what sounded like a gale force wind blowing in and out of a rather small open-ended container.

“Wheeee. Whoooooooooooo. Wheeee. Whooooooooooo.”

‘Holy crap. It’s a bear!’ I silently screamed to myself.

I struggled to untangle myself from the comforter, rolled over and sprang to my feet to close the window. In my haste, I broke a freshly manicured fingernail but saved myself from the giant black bear, only inches and a window screen from my face.

Except it wasn’t a black bear, it was a cow. A big black cow. Then there was another and another. Three giant black cows had walked across the patio and right along the house, pressing their noses up against any window they could.

Relieved, I grabbed my phone and went outside to capture what I could. To my utter amazement, or udder amazement as was the case, it was an entire herd of Black Angus cattle. Moms and babies and bulls strolling right through the Mehwalds’ Colorado backyard.

When I was explaining that Mary and Frank were not going to be happy about their visit, I heard Mary out front expressing that exact emotion to the other part of the herd.

Meeting up on the side of the house, Mary said: “We’ve got to do something about this. Cattle are very destructive.”

And with that said, the three of us became horseless caballeros. Frank and I flanked them and Mary took the lead, shouting and waving her arms like a madwoman. In fact, she was a madwoman after she realized she had chased the entire herd up the canyon in her cashmere house slippers with little poofs on the toes. The little poofs were now little poops.

Because of a cattle rancher’s right to free range his cattle, this scenario was repeated many times over with Mary wearing proper shoes and me vowing to never eat meat again. Let me tell you, when you lock eyes with a sweet little calf, suddenly you just see tofu and bean sprouts in your future.

Besides the cattle drives, we hiked up and down their mountain daily, filled our lungs with the freshest air and stared up at azure skies over snow-capped mountains. We ate meals on their deck with our Colorado companions which included hummingbirds, bluebirds, mule deer and yes, a few stray cattle. We marveled at it all and told stories that made us laugh until we cried.

Every day I was reminded of the line from the film “Shawshank Redemption,” when Andy says, “I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy living or get busy dying.” For those nine days, I was truly living.

Ironically, my original doctor appointment was canceled because they had to go on medical leave, proof that life for any of us can change in an instant.

I’ll see a different doctor on Thursday. In the meantime, I am thankful for good friends who recognize when I need a respite and a reminder to get busy living. A few tofu recipes wouldn’t hurt either.

Robin Swoboda can be reached at robinswoboda@outlook.com.

Source link Keto Diet Definition

[fuckyeahtattoogirls-blog1]

Robin Swoboda: A very mooooving experience in Colorado - News - Akron Beacon Journal

New Post has been published on https://bestrawfoodrecipes.com/robin-swoboda-a-very-mooooving-experience-in-colorado-news-akron-beacon-journal/

Robin Swoboda: A very mooooving experience in Colorado - News - Akron Beacon Journal

If you have been reading my column for any length of time, you know I am not shy about sharing my mishaps and foibles. I sometimes think of myself as a human “anti-motivational poster” for how not to live your life. In other words, “I make the mistakes so you don’t have to.”

This past Monday morning, when I was supposed to be at the doctor’s office getting my second suspicious breast lump measured to see if there had been any growth indicating cancer had returned, I was instead unpacking my suitcase, a chore I detest with a passion.

To say I was looking forward to the appointment was an understatement. It would mean getting the wondering out of the way and, believe it or not, I was also enthusiastic about stepping on the scale. The last time I’d been there was eight weeks ago, when I tipped the scale at a number I’d rather not mention.

While I would like to blame it on menopause, I rather suspect it was my epic failure at the Keto Diet. A breakfast of bacon and eggs, pork rinds with blue cheese dressing for lunch and a pork chop over wilted spinach with olive oil and garlic is Keto all right but one piece of cheese pizza or a bowl of popcorn before bed blows the whole thing. It also causes you to blow out your buttons, zippers or really anything that doesn’t have Spandex. Though blowing out a pair of Spanx is not out of the question.

Ready to wave a surrender flag of marshmallow fluff and just be a little fluffy for the rest of my life, my dear friends Mary and Frank invited me out to their home in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, for a week of hiking and enjoying some of God’s most beautiful creation.

You may recall I went out there last year and had the up close but not too personal encounter with a mountain lion, which had watched me getting dressed through the glass patio door before slinking past my open bedroom windows. It startled me so that my kneecaps vibrated for a good 15 minutes.

Before we had arrived there had been much talk of mountain lions in the area yet few had actually seen one. I was the lucky one.

This trip, however, there was much more talk about bears. Bears in horse pastures, bears in town, bears on people’s porches.

So you can understand my shock when I awoke early one morning to what was a very unusual and unfamiliar noise outside. With my back to the open windows, my eyes widened as I heard what sounded like a gale force wind blowing in and out of a rather small open-ended container.

“Wheeee. Whoooooooooooo. Wheeee. Whooooooooooo.”

‘Holy crap. It’s a bear!’ I silently screamed to myself.

I struggled to untangle myself from the comforter, rolled over and sprang to my feet to close the window. In my haste, I broke a freshly manicured fingernail but saved myself from the giant black bear, only inches and a window screen from my face.

Except it wasn’t a black bear, it was a cow. A big black cow. Then there was another and another. Three giant black cows had walked across the patio and right along the house, pressing their noses up against any window they could.

Relieved, I grabbed my phone and went outside to capture what I could. To my utter amazement, or udder amazement as was the case, it was an entire herd of Black Angus cattle. Moms and babies and bulls strolling right through the Mehwalds’ Colorado backyard.

When I was explaining that Mary and Frank were not going to be happy about their visit, I heard Mary out front expressing that exact emotion to the other part of the herd.

Meeting up on the side of the house, Mary said: “We’ve got to do something about this. Cattle are very destructive.”

And with that said, the three of us became horseless caballeros. Frank and I flanked them and Mary took the lead, shouting and waving her arms like a madwoman. In fact, she was a madwoman after she realized she had chased the entire herd up the canyon in her cashmere house slippers with little poofs on the toes. The little poofs were now little poops.

Because of a cattle rancher’s right to free range his cattle, this scenario was repeated many times over with Mary wearing proper shoes and me vowing to never eat meat again. Let me tell you, when you lock eyes with a sweet little calf, suddenly you just see tofu and bean sprouts in your future.

Besides the cattle drives, we hiked up and down their mountain daily, filled our lungs with the freshest air and stared up at azure skies over snow-capped mountains. We ate meals on their deck with our Colorado companions which included hummingbirds, bluebirds, mule deer and yes, a few stray cattle. We marveled at it all and told stories that made us laugh until we cried.

Every day I was reminded of the line from the film “Shawshank Redemption,” when Andy says, “I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy living or get busy dying.” For those nine days, I was truly living.

Ironically, my original doctor appointment was canceled because they had to go on medical leave, proof that life for any of us can change in an instant.

I’ll see a different doctor on Thursday. In the meantime, I am thankful for good friends who recognize when I need a respite and a reminder to get busy living. A few tofu recipes wouldn’t hurt either.

Robin Swoboda can be reached at robinswoboda@outlook.com.

Source link Keto Diet Definition

[alexphoenyx-blog]

Jennifer Rahim and Shara McCallum are the fiction and poetry prize winners of the 2018 OCM Bocas Prize for Caribbean Literature! For the first time in the eight-year history of the prize, the shortlist consists of just two books: poetry winner Madwoman, by Shara McCallum, and fiction winner Curfew Chronicles, by Jennifer Rahim. Both books are published by Peepal Tree Press. There is no non-fiction winner for 2018, as the judges did not believe any of the eligible books “could be held to represent the best of regional writing.” The two shortlisted titles will now enter the final round of judging, and vie for the overall award of US$10,000, to be presented on 28 April during the 2018 NGC Bocas Lit Fest (25–29 April) in Port of Spain. The 2018 OCM Bocas Prize, the Caribbean’s top literary award, is sponsored by One Caribbean Media Limited, parent company of the Express and TV6 and radio network. More information: https://www.bocaslitfest.com/2018/04/01/2018-ocm-bocas-prize-shortlist/

[cathygeha]

Eight Simple Rules for Dating a Dragon

by Kerrelyn Sparks

The Embraced #3

 As I began to read the introduction and backstory to this book I began to smile remembering the two books that preceded this one. Yes, I smiled :) Why? Because books like these remind me of the fairy tales I read as a child BUT these are all grown up. There are princesses and dragons, trolls and elves, magic and mysteries, romance and oh so much more…they are fun tales filled with adventure and action and friendship and quests with evil thwarted and a hook for the next book in the series. When I finished I thought, “Hooray! There are at least two more books to read before this series ends!”

 So, what is the story about? It is about five young women who are “embraced” due to what was happening in the sky when they were born. Each one has a talent that some consider a curse. They were all sent away and raised together away from the general population and became closer than blood sisters. Two of the sisters have had their stories told and two remain but in book three, this one, Gwennore meets her mate. Gwennie is an elf and her love is a dragon shifter…and what a story theirs is!

 Who wouldn’t want to meet and be saved by a dragon? Who wouldn’t want to feel needed and loved and cherished? Who wouldn’t want to be able to do something good for a people that were in need of her skills? And, who wouldn’t want to find their own true love? Silas and Gwennore are a match made in the heavens and their story made me smile when I read the last page, too :)

 Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 4.5 Stars

EIGHT SIMPLE RULES FOR DATING A DRAGON:

The Embraced Series

By Kerrelyn Sparks

Published by St. Martin’s Paperbacks

**On Sale March 27, 2018**

Mass Market Paperback | $7.99

ISBN: 9781250108258 | Ebook ISBN: 9781250108265

 For more information or to set up an interview with the author, contact:

Brittani Hilles at brittani.hilles@stmartins.com or 646-307-5558

BLURB:

Kerrelyn Sparks is no stranger to the New York Times bestseller list, as her massive fan base couldn’t seem to get enough of her Love at Stake series. Sparks then introduced her extraordinary fantasy romance series, The Embraced, with How to Tame a Beast in Seven Days and So I Married a Sorcerer. Set in a medieval mythical world, the series follows a special group of people with powers born when the two moons of the world form an eclipse. Now comes the captivating third installment, EIGHT SIMPLE RULES FOR DATING A DRAGON (St. Martin’s Paperbacks; March 27, 2018), where readers meet Gwennore, our fierce and powerful new heroine.

 Gwennore is an Elf able to track down the cause of an illness and heal it; a valuable asset to her people. But when she is thrust into the realm of the dragons, she discovers a haunted place of power and magic, plagued by an ancient curse. And then she meets the smoldering General Silas Dravenko. She’s been raised never to trust a dragon, but never did making a deal with the devil feel so good…

 Silas has no way of saving the royal family he’s served for years. But when a beautiful elf comes bursting into his world, Silas is awakened to desire in a way he’s never felt before. But can he trust a sworn enemy?

 Filled with romance, adventure, and a vividly imagined new world, EIGHT SIMPLE RULES FOR DATING A DRAGON is a fantasy in the vein of Game of Thrones with all the fun of The Princess Bride. Audiences will become enthralled with Gwennore in a world where passion, fantasy, and royal intrigue collide. Return to the most exciting, magical and romantic series to come along in years in the stunning world of the Embraced!

EXCERPT:   Chapter Three

 As the three men came to a stop, Gwennore noted that the ladies-in-waiting were curtsying, so she did, too.

Karlan bowed. “My lord general.”

“At ease,” the gorgeous man in the middle said.

Freya rushed to his side. “Silas, you arrived just in time. I’ve discovered an assassin.” She pointed at Gwennore. “You should arrest her!”

Gwennore popped up from her curtsy, ready to defend herself. But before she could say anything, the general had enveloped the queen’s hand in his own and turned her away.

“Your Majesty.” He flashed a smile that caused a few of the ladies to stumble as they rose from their curtsies. “I came as quickly as I could after hearing the news. May I congratulate you on the birth of your daughter?”

“Why, yes.” Freya blushed. “Thank you. I was in labor a dreadfully long time, you know.”

“Yes, so I hear.” He patted her hand. “But thank the Light, you and the babe are doing remarkably well.”

What nonsense was this? The gorgeous general was acting like the others—playing along with the queen’s delusion. Gwennore drew in a deep breath to voice her

Eight Simple Rules for Dating a Dragon                39

objection, but the general shot her a warning look with his sharp green eyes.

When she lifted her eyebrows as if to question him, he inclined his head ever so slightly. He’s asking me to trust him. It was as clear as if he had spoken. For a moment she wondered if she was experiencing a mental connec- tion with him like she had with Puff.

Don’t jump to conclusions, she chided herself. She was only hoping for a connection because he was the most handsome man she’d ever met.

Something flared in his eyes, a spark of gold in the em- erald green, and her knees grew weak. Good goddesses, was she about to swoon like these other silly women? She needed to be stronger than this.

“Thank you, Silas,” Freya said, drawing his attention back to her. “Doesn’t the baby look just like her father?” “Yes, indeed.” The general glanced at Eviana, who was still clinging to Gwennore’s legs. “And to mark the occa- sion, I have brought you a gift.” He motioned to Gwennore. “A nanny. As you can see, the princess has already

developed a special fondness for her.”

Freya gasped. “You brought the elf here?”

“Of course.” He gave Gwennore a wry look as if he was daring her to contradict him. “She’s a noblewoman I captured some time ago in battle, but since then, she’s learned our language and proven herself quite useful.”

So General Gorgeous had no problem spinning lies or manipulating a madwoman. Gwennore snorted. But since she was in danger of being imprisoned and even exe- cuted, she was not in any position to reject his solution.

Even so, she wondered if she could actually trust him. As the general of the Norveshki army, wouldn’t he see her as an enemy?

“We dare not trust an elf,” Freya muttered. “She could be a spy. Or an assassin.”

40                            Kerrelyn Sparks

“We can trust her,” the general insisted. “Lady Gwennore cares deeply for the princess. Enough to risk her life for her.”

Gwennore’s heart lurched into a fast pace. He knew her name? And what she’d done? Puff must have told him everything that had happened. That meant General Gor- geous could hear dragon voices, too. It made sense, she figured, since his job would require him to communicate with dragons. But did that mean he had ordered the first dragon to kidnap Eviana? Or perhaps, he had ordered Puff to try to stop the kidnapping. Which side was he on?

“But elves are such violent creatures,” Freya whined. “They are fierce warriors, that is true,” the general

agreed. “That is why Lady Gwennore will make an ex- cellent nanny. No one will protect your daughter as well as she.”

“Well . . .” Freya looked confused. Her hands fluttered around her chest, causing the rubies to sparkle in the after- noon sun. “I suppose we can give her a try.”

“Excellent.” He turned toward Karlan. “You and your men may return to your posts.”

Gwennore exhaled with relief. She wasn’t going to the dungeon. And as the official nanny, she could remain close to Eviana.

“And remember.” The general stepped closer to Karlan and added softly, “Lady Gwennore is my guest. She will be treated with respect.”

“Yes, my lord.” Karlan motioned for his men to follow him back to the main gatehouse.

With Gwennore’s superior hearing, she’d heard the general’s whisper. He had to be on her side. For one thing, he kept referring to her as a lady. The status of noble- woman would shield her from any physical abuse during her stay here in Draven Castle.

So, most probably, she had two allies in Norveshka—

Eight Simple Rules for Dating a Dragon                41

Puff and General Gorgeous. She could only hope they would both prove to be trustworthy and honorable.

The general turned to the nearest lady-in-waiting. “Your name, please?”

The woman stumbled back a step. “O-Olenka, my lord general.”

“Lady Olenka, would you please escort Lady Gwennore and the princess to the nursery? And make sure they are well taken care of.”

“Yes, yes, of course, my lord general.” Olenka nodded, then curtsied again.

“I’ll drop by to check on you later.” The general shot a pointed look at Gwennore. “Till then.”

Gwennore inclined her head, understanding he in- tended to have a talk with her. That was fine. She needed to talk to him, too.

“Oh, everything will be perfect, my lord general! You can trust me.” Olenka motioned for Gwennore to follow her. “Come along now.”

Gwennore lifted Eviana in her arms and walked toward Lady Olenka. As she passed the queen, she bowed her head. “Good day, Your Majesty.”

Freya narrowed her eyes. “If anything happens to my daughter, I’ll have your head. I will not lose another child!”

Another child? How many had the queen lost? “I will protect her with my life,” Gwennore told her, then fol- lowed Lady Olenka toward the northwestern tower.

As she neared the general’s two companions, she noted there was a slight difference in their uniforms. One had three brass stars embedded in his leather breastplate, while the other had two. Did that mean they were officers? The general had four stars on his breastplate.

These men were handsome like the general—tall, mus- cular, long dark hair. No doubt they knew how to make a

About the Author

Kerrelyn Sparks is best known (so far) for the Love at Stake series, which has hit as high as number 5 on the New York Times list and 22 on the USA Today list. Visit Kerrelyn on Facebook, Twitter, or her website, http://www.kerrelynsparks.com/.

MORE:

Praise for Kerrelyn Sparks:

“Readers will be fully invested in this Embraced series!”

— Romantic Times on How to Tame a Beast in Seven Days

 "Readers will relish Spark’s lovingly detailed and memorable tale and look forward to the next.”

— Booklist on How to Tame a Beast in Seven Days

 “[Sparks] has produced a book that I'll come back to again and again. I'll be counting down the days till the next girl gets her story.”

— Night Owl Reviews on How to Tame a Beast in Seven Days

 "A deeply satisfying, delightfully swoon-inducing close...full of vulnerability and tenderness."

— Publishers Weekly (starred review) on Crouching Tiger, Forbidden Vampire

 "Mixing paranormal romance with humor, Sparks clearly has a style all her own, one that readers love."

— USA Today's Happily Ever After blog

 "Sparks skillfully infuses her writing with a deliciously sharp wit."

—

Booklist

“As with Sparks’s previous books, a tangled plot resolves with ease after the efforts of the determined lovers and their friends. Fans of Sparks’s lighthearted romances will feel right at home here.”

—Publishers Weekly

  “Each story in the Embraced series gets better and better! In this third installment, Sparks weaves a magical fantasy world, filled with paranormal characters that will make you nostalgic for those bedtime stories from your youth.”

—RT Book Reviews

  “The Embraced series will not let you down! Just like in book one, there is a layered heroine and hero, and supporting characters whose lives add to the story and humor. Set in the past, the series has a decidedly fantasy slant that is easy to follow, which makes this delightfully fun to read. Readers are gifted with a well-executed read with kings, dragons and pirates.”

—RT Book Reviews on So I Married a Sorcerer

  "The second in Sparks’s Embraced fantasy romance series (following How to Tame a Beast in Seven Days) is a lively tale of pirates, intrigue, sorcery, and lost heirs...the story charges along at a rapid pace, and Sparks’s characters are witty and full of life. Her latest should satisfy historical romance fans who are ready for a little magic."

—Publishers Weekly on So I Married a Sorcerer

[char27martin]

Gabrielle Brant Freeman: Poet Interview

Please join me in welcoming Gabrielle Brant Freeman to the Poetic Asides blog!

Gabrielle Brant Freeman’s poetry has been published in many journals, including Barrelhouse, Hobart, Melancholy Hyperbole, Rappahannock Review, Shenandoah, storySouth, and Waxwing. She was nominated twice for the Best of the Net, and was a 2014 finalist. Freeman won the 2015 Randall Jarrell Poetry Competition, and she received a Regional Artist Grant in 2015 from the North Carolina Arts Council. Freeman earned her MFA through Converse College. When She Was Bad is her first book of poetry.

*****

Forget Revision, Learn How to Re-create Your Poems!

Do you find first drafts the easy part and revision kind of intimidating? If so, you’re not alone, and it’s common for writers to think the revision process is boring–but it doesn’t have to be!

In the 48-minute tutorial Re-Creating Poetry: How to Revise Poems, poets will learn how to go about re-creating their poems with the use of 7 revision filters that can help poets more effectively play with their poems after the first draft. Plus, it helps poets see how they make revision–gasp–fun!

Click to continue.

*****

What are you currently up to?

Gabrielle Brant Freeman (Photo Credit: Dawn D. Surratt)

I have a few different writing projects going on right now. The first is a series of poems that center on the idea of restrictions and constraints of all types placed upon women in America. I am playing with form to reflect the idea: connected sestinas are broken down into three sonnets each. Sestinas have constraints, and I am making those constraints tighter. Like a corset. Poetry corsets! The first of these to be published, “Every Western,” will come out in the fall issue of the South Carolina Review.

The second project is a series of flash fiction pieces that will come together (hopefully!) as a novel-in-flash. The first one to be picked up, “Shotgun Wedding,” will be published by Flash Fiction Magazine in October.

How did When She Was Bad come together as a collection?

I had finished what I thought would be my first collection with my MFA thesis titled Hydra. However, after many rejections, I went back to look at the poems again, and I realized that there were several themes, probably too many, but one continued to stand out: women acting against societal expectations, or women questioning those same expectations. Then I remembered the Longfellow nursery rhyme “There was a little girl,” and I wrote the poem “When She Was Bad.” That became the title, and I edited and finished the book from there.

Cover image and design by Dawn D. Surratt

Were there any surprises in the publishing process?

Kevin Morgan Watson and Press 53 were wonderful to work with. I could not be happier about the process and the finished book. However, there was a funny incident with the cover. Dawn D. Surratt, the artist whose work appears on my cover (front and back!), had submitted several images for Kevin and me to choose from. We finally settled on one, and the model suddenly rescinded her permission to use her image on the cover. After a moment’s panic, Dawn and I decided to meet up (thank goodness we live relatively close) and do a shoot to see what we could come up with. Turns out she and I have a similar aesthetic, and we had a great time. I absolutely love the way it turned out.

Have you done anything to promote the book since publication?

Yes! I have done quite a few readings and writing workshops across North and South Carolina. I really enjoy readings, and it is always exciting when someone in the audience connects with a poem I read. The last reading I did was at Converse College where I earned my MFA in poetry. It was wonderful to be able to go back and read my work to the current students and faculty.

Most recently, I conducted a pop-up writing workshop for Greenville, NC’s First Friday Art Walk. We had a terrific turnout, and many of the participants got some compelling first drafts written. Every reading and workshop exposes people to my book. In addition, I use social media — Facebook, Instagram, Twitter — and my website to promote When She Was Bad.

It, of course, takes several poems to get a collection together. Do you have a writing routine?

Well, I’ll tell you. Writing the second book seems much more difficult than the first. I am starting fresh! No pool of poems to start with! Aaaagh! But, yes, I do have a routine. I try to write something down every day, even if it’s just an idea for a poem. When I know I’m going to have extended time to myself, which doesn’t happen very often, I make sure to take that time to write and revise. Last night, I had a few hours to work, and I (finally!) finished writing a sestina I’ve been working on here and there since last February. I find that, most of the time, getting a draft down is the easy part. It’s revision that takes me forever.

Many of the poems in your collection were previously published in other publications. Do you have a submission routine?

I make sure to send new work out to at least two different places as soon as I feel it’s finished. Then, if it gets rejected, I try to turn it around, send it back out, within a day. Submittable is great because its active submissions list gives you a good visual idea of what you’ve got out.

I also keep an alphabetized, bulleted document of current work that is color coded for active, accepted, rejected, and rejected with specific comments. I also list the date of submission and the date of response for each submission so I can tell how long a particular journal took to respond. Over the years, this has been a valuable system for me.

One poet that more people should know: Who is it?

Oh my goodness. You know, there are so many wonderful poets out there. One answer is that I am always surprised when poets and writers I meet don’t know the work of my fabulous and prolific mentors Denise Duhamel and Suzanne Cleary. They are both so very brave and often funny in their writing. Another answer is that I had the privilege of hearing Shara McCallum read “The Madwoman as Rasta Medusa” from her book Madwoman at AWP last year. The whole collection is fantastic.

If you could pass along only one piece of advice for other poets, what would it be?

Be an active poet: read poetry, share poetry, support other poets, and keep writing.

*****

Robert Lee Brewer is the editor of Poet’s Market and author of Solving the World’s Problems. Follow him on Twitter @robertleebrewer.

*****

Check out these other poetic posts:

John Sibley Williams: Poet Interview.

20 Best Tips for Poets.

11 French Poetic Forms.

The post Gabrielle Brant Freeman: Poet Interview appeared first on WritersDigest.com.

from Writing Editor Blogs – WritersDigest.com http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/gabrielle-brant-freeman-poet-interview

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source: That's Ms. Bulldyke to You, Charlie! by Jane Caminos