Posts by: Bryl

I’m welcoming Lucy Felthouse today!

Hey there, Lucy Felthouse! Let’s get started, shall we?

Me: What genres do you enjoy reading most?

Lucy: I love to read erotica, erotic romance, urban fantasy, paranormal stuff, and the occasional chick lit.

 

Me: Why do you write and when did you start?

Lucy: I write because I love it. I’ve written on and off since I was a small child. But I only started writing for publication in 2006, and when I got that first acceptance I got the bug. Now I can’t stop!

 

Me: Much of your writing is rather erotic, though not all. I’m curious, what your family feels about your writing? Are they supportive?

Lucy: Well some of them know, some of them don’t. There are also some that I suspect do know but just haven’t said anything. But those that do know are very supportive.

 

Me: What’s the most interesting comment you’ve received from a reader?

Lucy: I don’t remember it word for word, but I had a lovely comment recently where someone said that my writing voice really suited my work and that they’d really enjoyed several of my pieces. I’ve always written in the way that comes naturally, and this affirmed that I’m obviously getting it right for some people!

 

Me: Writing can be a lonely venture. Sometimes, sacrifices are required in our lives. Are the sacrifices worth it? What are your continuing career goals?

Lucy: I combine my writing with the business I run, dividing my time between my tasks as necessary. I work longer hours now I’m self employed than I did before, but I’m much happier. I’m doing something I thoroughly enjoy, as well as dedicating more time to my writing. Since I have done this, I’ve been getting more work published, too. So in my case, I would definitely say the sacrifices are worth it.

 

Me: What did you eat for breakfast this morning?

Lucy: A bowl of Cheerios.

 

Me: What’s your favorite position?

Lucy: Sorry, but as I don’t use a pen name my private life remains firmly private!

Me: (Good girl. Love the classy answer.)

 

*****

 

 

Love Through Time by Lucy Felthouse

Noble Romance Publishing Timeless Desire Collection

 

Blurb:

Westbury Manor is a stately home with a fascinating past, and when book conservator Emily Stone starts uncovering it, she’s startled by what she finds….

Book conservator, Emily Stone, arrives at Westbury Manor with a job to do. She’s to clean and conserve all of the books in their impressive library, preserving them for future generations. Not long into her stay at the house, Emily bumps into the night guard, George. She’d expected an old, balding guy with a comb over, so the hunky chap she actually meets is a very pleasant surprise. The introductions complete, George leaves Emily in peace to get on with her job. But when a falling photograph sets off a chain reaction of ghostly events, Emily and George are thrown together in order to find out who—or what—is causing them. Their investigation uncovers a tragic past, a lost love and a stunning secret.

Love Through Time is available from Noble Romance and will be coming to third party retailers soon.

https://www.nobleromance.com/Authors/162/Lucy-Felthouse

*****

Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story – so she did. It went down a storm and she’s never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. You can also find her on Facebook and Twitter.

 

Thank you for having me. Please leave your email with your comments to go into the draw for a prize. Then click on the tour logo in the sidebar to go to the next blog in the tour.

Divinity was made available last night at midnight! Very excited about it. Those who’ve pre-ordered, you should be able to download it now. Those of you who haven’t ordered your copy, go for it! Enjoy!

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 These are ONLY good at The Untreed Reads Store. Main event sales are all month, weekly event sales are only for the dates indicated. They’ve even got a Black Friday sale!
Here’s the monthly lineup:
30% Off All Thanksgiving Titles (http://bit.ly/tFb2V2)

The Killer Wore Cranberry edited by J. Alan Hartman

How to Sweeten a Mother-in-Law by Stephanie Beck

Who Snuffed the Turkey? by Lance Zarimba

Turkey Cull by Laird Long

Biscuits, Carats, and Gravy by Barb Goffman

A Mobster’s Guide to Cranberry Sauce by Beth Mathison

Ambrosia by Jack Bates

Death by Jello by S. Furlong-Bolliger

Last Licks by Kathleen Gerard

Murder With All the Trimmings by Leslie A. Diehl

Pumpkin Lie by Lorraine Sears

 

The Secret Ingredient by Bryl R. Tyne  <—— for just $1.05 read something of mine that’s short and sweet!

The Thanksgiving Cookoff War by Earl Staggs

Celebrating Veteran’s Day
30% off The O’Quinn Fights: Basement Brawl by Robert Evans
30% off The O’Quinn Fights: Foul Fight With a Pit Viper by Robert Evans
30% off A Daughter’s Love by Lorraine Sears
National American Education Week (November 13-19)
30% off Mastering the Thesis Statement by Steve Sharp
30% off Shakespeare by Another Name by Mark Anderson
National Game and Puzzle Week (November 20-26)
30% off all Mystery novels, novellas and short stories
Black Friday (November 25th)
Buy any short story, get any other short story at 50% off. Both titles must be added to the cart to get the special.
Buy any novella, get any other novella at 50% off. Both titles must be added to the cart to get the special.
Buy any novel/anthology/collection, get any other novel at 50% off. Both titles must be added to the cart to get the special.
Don’t forget to stop by the Untreed Reads Store and check them out!
30% Off All Thanksgiving Titles (http://bit.ly/tFb2V2)

I’m welcoming Jess Anastasi today!

Hey there, Jess! Let’s get started, shall we?

 

What genres do you enjoy reading most? I’ll read a few different genres – sci-fi, paranormal, urban fantasy, historical, romantic suspense. Just depends on what mood I’m in when I go to pick up a book.

 

Why do you write and when did you start? I started writing straight out of high school ten years ago. At the moment I write sci-fi romance, romantic suspense and have a more straight-forward paranormal romance idea I’d like to explore in the near future.

 

Much of your writing is rather erotic, though not all. I’m curious, what your family feels about your writing? Are they supportive? I think my writing is more sensual than erotic and since most romance novels have at least one or two sex scenes per book, I guess most of my family weren’t that surprised that I’ve written my fair share of naked, hot scenes. They’re all supportive of my career being a writer.

 

What’s the most interesting comment you’ve received from a reader? I’m going to cheat and talk about the best review I’ve ever gotten instead, the reviewer had this to say:

“Ms. Anastasi has that rare ability to draw a reader to the heart of a character’s emotions and insecurities that so many authors wish they possessed. Her main characters are real, likeable, and easy to care about, and her sex scenes – better described as love scenes – are near poetry, they’re so beautifully and eloquently written.”

Needless to say, I was quite touched by that. I suppose I find it humbling that someone can be so enthusiastic and impressed by something that I’ve written. 

The full review can be read here: http://www.twolipsreviews.com/content/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=6287&Itemid=36

 

Writing can be a lonely venture. Sometimes, sacrifices are required in our lives. Are the sacrifices worth it? What are your continuing career goals? At the moment I’m in the position where most everything else in my life comes before my writing. I write only when everything else has been done. So I’ve never had to make a sacrifice for my writing. My career goal at the moment is to get an agent and have a book published with one of the “big six” New York publishers.

 

What did you eat for breakfast this morning? Same thing I have pretty much every morning – toast, black tea and fruit. I’m a creature of habit.

 

 

 

 

SAVIOR by Jess Anastasi

Noble Romance Publishing Timeless Desire Collection

BLURB:

Cadmiel, the Angel of Destiny, knows better than anyone what a bitch fate can be. Five hundred years ago, the only woman he ever loved was killed, shredding his soul and leaving a void in place of his heart. Now Archangel Michael comes to him with a shocking and forbidden proposal. He wants Cadmiel to travel back in time and save Emilyn. Though Cadmiel wishes beyond all reasoning to do as the archangel asks, messing with time goes against his own beliefs and the very foundations of angel lore. But Michael doesn’t give Cadmiel a choice and thrusts him through time and space, back to 2012.

The first time Emilyn saw the gorgeous man, she was affected on a level she couldn’t comprehend. Cadmiel isn’t like any other guy she’s ever met, and he makes her wish love at first sight were true. But there are forces at work she never dreamed real. In the space of a day, she goes from normal, every-day college student, to a pawn in an apocalyptic war between angels and demons.

Emilyn’s very life is in Cadmiel’s hands. Will he risk the future of the entire universe to save her, or let her die and destroy himself in the process?

 

Find out more about Jess Anastasi here:

Website: jessanastasi.com

Blog: jessanastasi.blogspot.com

 

You can find Jess Anastasi’s books at:

Noble Romance Publishing: https://www.nobleromance.com/Authors/130/Jess-Anastasi

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=jess+anastasi&x=0&y=0

 

It was great being here! And now, for anyone who likes the idea of winning a prize, all you have to do is leave a comment below. Good luck everyone. Tour continue the tour just click the tour logo in the sidebar.

 

 

I’m welcoming H.C. Brown today!

Hey there, H.C.! Let’s get started, shall we?

Me: I see you’ve written another hot BDSM tale. What genres do you enjoy reading most?

HC: I enjoy audio books. I buy mostly Historical Romance and thrillers. I listen to books because I’m too tired to turn a page by the time I’ve finished writing.

 

Me: Why do you write and when did you start?

HC: Writing is a compulsion; it is something I need to do every day. I have stories lining up, my Muse supplies two or more before the last chapter of the previous story hits paper. I started writing stories—no I told stories from the time I could speak. I had an imaginary monkey at two years old so I guess the stories started around that time. Writing for publication started in 2006

 

Me: Much of your writing is rather erotic, though not all. I’m curious, what your family feels about your writing? Are they supportive?

HC: I write a broad spectrum of genres. All are erotic apart from my YA, which I write under the pen name Pia Moonglow. My daughter will not read any of my books—not one line and she is not supportive of my work at all, in fact, she is the opposite. My sons, daughter-in laws, my in-laws ALL support me fully. So do my friends, which is great.

One of my daughter in–laws, Veronica, is one of my readers. This girl is not afraid to tell me if I am falling off the path of storytelling. You must remember I write M/F, M/F/M and M/M erotic romance some of which also incorporates BDSM.

My husband—my rock—is very secure in his sexuality, and I can and do read every line to him. He keeps me on schedule, makes sure I eat and won’t allow me to work until I drop. He tells me he is proud of me and as any author will tell you, we all need support and a few kind words go a very long way.

 

Me: What’s the most interesting comment you’ve received from a reader?

HC: I quote: I downloaded your latest book from the internet—you know one of those free sites. When are you going to write the next in the series and will it be available for free as well?

Me: Wow. (Sorry to interrupt, but that’s just… Wow.) On one hand it’s great someone likes your writing. On the other, though, it’s a shame sites like that exist and that potential buyers are being drawn to them.

 

Me: Writing can be a lonely venture. Sometimes, sacrifices are required in our lives. Are the sacrifices worth it? What are your continuing career goals?

HC: Lonely? Not for me, I LOVE to be in the story—hell, I dream the story. For me it is escapism at the highest degree. I think having a great critique partner helps a lot too; I need a good kick in the butt sometimes to keep me in the zone.

I continue to be optimistic about my writing career, I think we all want to reach the pinnacle of our chosen career and yes the brass ring looks good from here —reaching it? Well I guess time will tell.

 

Me: What did you eat for breakfast this morning?

HC: Yoghurt

 

Me: And how could I let you go without asking you at least ONE raunchy question? Hmm… What’s your favorite position?

HC: LOL . . . for what Bryl? Let me see . . . ah yes, I sit down on the toilet— oh yeah, and I play left right out in basketball . . . or was that netball?

 

Where to find out more about H.C. Brown:

H.C. Brown

www.hcbrown-author.com

www.hcbrownauthoroferoticromance.blogspot.com

https://www.nobleromance.com/Books?author=40

 

 

Time to Live by H.C. Brown

Noble Romance Publishing Timeless Desire Collection

Blurb

Seth Bannock is living a lie. Nothing in his life is working out. He likes women . . . he respects women . . . but when he tries to kiss a woman and she does that tongue thing, he wants to spew.

Confused by his body’s reaction to the men at his gym, Seth seeks help from the only gay club he knows—Floggers. Is the man crazy? Seeking answers, the sweet, vanilla virgin marches into the BDSM club to speak to the owner, Rio Knight.

Realization that he has been on the wrong team all his life comes in the form of a six-foot-seven Adonis by the name of Matt Duffey. Instantly attracted to the leather-clad alpha male, Seth must leave his old life behind and embrace his newfound sexuality

Seth thought his life had complications before he met Matt, but nothing comes close to the rollercoaster ride in the big dom’s arms.

Find out more about Time to Live at Noble Romance Publishing: https://www.nobleromance.com/Books?author=40

 

Thank you for having me. Please leave your email with your comments to go into the draw for a prize. Then click on the tour logo in the sidebar to go to the next blog in the tour.

 

 

 

IMMORTAL my love story between a vampire and a bannik for the Timeless Desire Collection of stories came out earlier today!

Found abandoned as a child and taken in by the Nevsky clan, the man Ivis now feels the call of the water, the sea, but Sefton and his family, one of the most influential vampire bloodlines in Russia, isn’t about to let Ivis go. As Ivis’ powers grow stronger—powers unknown to him—Sefton’s instructed to detain Ivis at all costs to tilt in his clan’s favor the balance of power in an endless struggle between the Bogdanov water gods and Nevsky vampires. Sefton’s left with a choice: power or love. Which is the greater desire?

You can purchase it here: https://www.nobleromance.com/Books/353/Immortal

 

 

IMMORTAL by Bryl R. Tyne

Genre: paranormal/fantasy/m/m

Noble Romance Publishing

(c) 2011 Bryl R. Tyne

 

Blurb: Found abandoned as a child and taken in by the Nevsky clan, the man Ivis now feels the call of the water, the sea, but Sefton and his family, one of the most influential vampire bloodlines in Russia, isn’t about to let Ivis go. As Ivis’s powers grow stronger—powers unknown to him—Sefton’s instructed to detain Ivis at all costs to tilt in his clan’s favor the balance of power in an endless struggle between the Bogdanov water gods and Nevsky vampires. Sefton’s left with a choice: power or love. Which is the greater desire?

 

(unedited) Excerpt:

At the edge of the great forest, wild fields stretched to the south and to the east, ending as they tapered into a great sea. Though I could see only long grasses to the horizon, rumor spoke of such a place, the place where the Nevsky hunters had found me as a child of four seasons, with not a stitch of clothing or clan to lay claim and the letters IVIS scored across the point where my left collarbone met my shoulder. Few from the nearby village had dared venture out that far since, and those with a will to try had never returned. I dreamt of returning there someday. Though to what, or to whom, or precisely where, I had yet to learn.

“Again, I fear I am losing you, Ivis.” Sefton’s breaths cut cold and hard across the dampness between my shoulders.

Tepid skin graced my lips as I kissed the back of his hand. “Unfortunately, glimpses of my past remain with me to this day, as they should. Should they not?” I asked but got no reply at my back. “I can no more forget them than the sight of my own face in the water.”

But no matter how often I uttered those words, in truth, my past reached no farther than the tip of my nose, for how was it possible a child, no taller than waist high, should remember such places or events . . . or names? It was vain for me to try, but even now, as a young man, I continued to do so. More so, the closer Sefton drew to me for the power, though I knew not this power he claimed to seek . . . but his seeking me out for yet another romp in the forests happened more often than not of late.

“When I am with you, I am alive as never before.” Sefton tugged me against his chest, as he had done each night and many a carefree afternoon for as far back as I could recall. His lips found the juncture at my neck and shoulder, while he fondled me with the most skilled of touches. “You are the very air I breathe.” His words danced across my skin, graceful and confident. With his other hand, he found and teased my entrance, and pushed into me with a whisper, “You are mine, now and for always.”

“Yes.” I barely recognized my own voice under his assault. Yet, I wanted him as totally as he claimed to want me. “Always.”

He stroked my manhood and plowed into me relentlessly, over and again. “Tell me you are mine.”

By the goddess, I wanted to. I wanted nothing more than to accept his invitation to stay forever. But to do so would be a lie.

“Do not speak, my love,” he said, entering me again and again, working himself, faster and faster, until I could not tell where his body ended and mine began. “My love is enough to carry us both.” And he sank his sharp bite into my neck, took from me as much as he gave me elsewhere, and sending me into the bright abyss that only a lover can do.

“Sefton . . . .”

He withdrew his fangs, sealed the tiny wounds with a loving touch of his tongue. My body quivered in his embrace as he brought me back to earth with his sure caress. Yet, I lay there in his arms, fully aware of my plans to leave. How could I tell him that I could not stay, no matter how promising, how tempting . . . how pleasurable his touch.

“I am troubled, not understanding how each time can be better than the last, yet it is a truth I cannot deny,” he said and kissed the top of my head, then my shoulder; his hips pressed firmly to my backside. “Ivis? Promise me. Tell me that every day will be like today only better. Promise to never leave my side.”

His words were at once as a thick plume of smoke, suffocating, no matter how quickly I maneuvered through them. How could he promise me what was not his to give? I removed his less than reassuring arm and pulled myself up to stand. The rocky ground outside our grassy circle of body-warmed foliage stung the soles of my feet. “For the Lady’s sake, I am no Nevsky, and I belong to no one in your villages. To this day, I know not even my family name.” I leaned, one hand clinging, toying with a low-hanging branch. “Until I know who I am, I cannot make such promises. You know that I would die for you if I could.”

I turned and found the ever-present doubt his gaze increasingly held.

“I love you, Sefton Nevsky, like no other. Is knowing that not enough for you?”

For the briefest of seconds, his eyes flashed the color of fresh-spilled blood, and I looked away. He shot to his feet and with a firm grip, carried my face nose to nose with his own in a move that left me panting with fright. Yet I did not retreat, nor show the fear he had instigated and likely craved. Instead, I met his sternness with my own. “You are neither my keeper nor my brother.”

“I am a Nevsky and you—a bastard son found amongst the reeds. Do not push me, lower than low.” He pounded his chest with a knuckled fist. “You will not defy my wishes.”

Against my knotted gut, I stepped around him and retrieved my tunic and breeches. Oxen more stubborn, I had never witnessed in my supposed twenty-some years—I kept that knowledge loosely, also, for I had as much recollection of my true age as I had of the day I was born. Despite Sefton’s stance and his curses to the contrary, I dressed, slipping my tunic over my head. “Your proclaimed ‘two years’ on me makes you no wiser than I, though, with each passing day, you do resemble more and more a donkey’s behind.”

His reaction came swift and sure as he backed me against the nearest stone birch; Sefton tightened his grasp on my tunic with a shove surely meant to meld his fist to my chest. My still-naked buttocks encountered rough bark. His gaze remained locked with mine. “One day”—he wiped the spittle from his bottom lip—”one day I will make you know how infuriating a man you can be, Ivis Bogdanov.”

Sefton’s mouth covered mine, leaving me forgotten moments better used for breathing, but I could no more deny his needs for all the talk in the forest. He pulled away, as breathless as I. “Curse our lives,” he said, grimacing in obvious disgust. “Were I not born the ass that I am—were you . . . had we met under different circumstances—”

“But we have not. That is the hand the Fates have dealt us.”

Sefton pulled me into his arms. “Do not do this. No good can come of your curiosity. Are you so unhappy that I cannot expect you to share this life we have?”

“Life?” I wrenched free, backed out of his embrace. “You call this a life? I roam your fathers’ countryside by day and your castle by night as if in search of something, though I know not what.”

The look Sefton bore frustrated me further.

“You do not understand. I am a man. Do you not see that I have no need to be by your side both day and night? Can you not see your constant concern is smothering? I turn a corner; you are there. I close my eyes only to open them to your face. Is it I you do not trust, or is it yourself?”

Sefton’s steely eyes flared to deep crimson, and in that flash of color, he stood a hair’s breadth before me. “Rue the day I found you among the marshes bordering the eastern fields.” His nostrils flared as he turned away. “I need you beside me, or you would not remain . . . .” His stance turned aloof, and his stare grew cold. “You are no one special. No one would have you but I; no man is as accoutered as I to keep a—a man, such as yourself.”

Heat pooled in my chest, and a chill, the likes of which I had never experienced, consumed my shaking limbs. “A burden you claim, then I fear a burden I shall become.”

“Do not speak the words, Bogdanov”—he bore his elongated teeth in anger, a rarity in my presence—”or feel my wrath!”

In a move unseen, he was upon me, the sting of his bite upon my flesh, and I hardened instantly, despite my struggle.

“Damn you, son of Nevsky.”

But my words came on a fleeting breath, for my body could not mask my desire, and I pressed into his touch, his bite . . . his embrace, wanting him near with the same ferocity I wanted him to stay away, the same longing I had felt the first time we had coupled. And he reciprocated, penetrating my flesh deeper as he rolled his hips, revealing his desire, even as he assuaged his anger with the blood drawn from my shoulder.

“Damn you.”

He pulled away, withdrawing his fangs. His gaze, obscured by a haze of lust, met mine, and it was my blood that trickled from his lips as he said, “Too late.”

His expression told of his pain—decades, centuries, an eternity—for how long, I had no knowledge. So much had passed between us, years of growing—more, I’d grown from boy to man; Sefton had remained as youthful and handsome as ever—still, I knew few details of his life or circumstance. Uneasiness swallowed me whole with one look into his eyes. In spite of his protests to the contrary, I could never be what he desired. It hurt to love him as I did, but it hurt more to know not who I was, where I had come from, to whom I might belong.

“You belong with me, Ivis.” His voice was but a whisper as he wiped the blood from his chin.

“Get out of my head.”

“Your own thoughts betray you, for freely they gave themselves to me. I had no need to pry my way in.”

“You are an insatiable and arrogant man.”

“I’m no more a man than you—” He stopped abruptly and turned his back to me.

“What is this you once again allude to?” He removed himself from my reach. No man could keep one such as me . . . . Had he not meant riches, for admittedly, I had wants, and Sefton seemed always to have the need to fulfill each and every one of them? Before my next breath, Sefton had dressed.

“Son of Nevsky, what are you hiding from—?” But before I could finish my question, he was gone. And hence, so was I.

 

 

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…can be found over at Rarely Dusty Books blog today!

Up until now, I’ve only given you brief recaps each day I was there, but today, I blog about GRL as a whole. Lots of pics of my experiences and NOLA. You could win a copy of a title from my backlist. Just stop by and leave a comment over at Rarely Dusty Books to be entered in the drawing! Hope to see you there? 🙂

On a side note, I’ve been reading many blogs about personal experiences at this first GayRomLit, but today I ran across one I especially want to share with everyone if I can. Author Blake Deveraux summed up the retreat most precisely and more eloquently than I ever could, and I do think if you read anything else about GayRomLit, Blake’s post is THE post to read! You can find his Farewell to GRL 2011 here: http://blakedeveraux.com/2011/10/24/farewell-to-grl-2011

 

Much thanks to the organizers of GayRomLit!

I’m having trouble accepting that I leave here later today. But it’s over. Sadly.

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed myself, met many, many interesting and beautiful people, and come to understand the southern phrase, “God bless his heart” (thank you, Blake). And for filling these few days with meaning and FUN: Rachel Haimowitz, EM Lynley, Clare London, Heidi Cullinan, Marie Sexton, Rowan Speedwell, Damon Suede, Cherie Noel, Taylor Donovan, Kelly Shorten, Poppy Dennison, Brita Addams, Cat Grant, Rick Reed, Lynn Lorenz, Amanda Young, Ethan Day, V. Vee (I’m certain I’m missing many more wonderful people who I’ve had the opportunity to meet, and I’m truly sorry. Just know that you ALL were/are AWESOME!), and to the many readers who stopped me in the halls and at the various events to let me know how much you loved me and my writing–THANK YOU!

Special thanks to the Bourbon Orleans’ staff–Caleb, you are SO in my next book, sugar! Lafitte’s on Exile–you guys rock! Had a blast! Yo Mama’s, Johnny Whites, Cafe Du Monde… YUM!

Truly, my brief time here has been an unforgettable experience.

Seriously, dude. I just gotta say that I’ve never felt more at home anyplace I’ve ever been. To top it off, the hospitality here at the Bourbon Orleans is out of this world. The food in The Quarter is so delicious and the portions so plentiful I may not eat again for a month. And conversation is to be had at every turn with so many of us readers and authors gathered together to enjoy these short few days… I don’t want to even think about leaving!

 

I’ve met so many wonderful people–both authors and readers. You guys rock. I can’t wait until next year!

 

On another note, I tried Cajun for the first time–Yum--and I ain’t talkin’ food.

 

The atmosphere, the constant thrum, the people… I love it here. For the first time in a long time, I’m alive.

 

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