Category Archives: fictional beginnings

Out of the blue.

I know I haven’t been updating here as much as I should…as much as I had planned to this year when I set that resolution in January. But what would I talk about? My fangirl follies? My massive writer’s block? Stories of the past that I love more than anything that are returning to my mind?

Meh. Why would I torture you all like that?

And then,

Out of the blue, this happens:

I get this gut feeling to check my email. I’ve been avoiding it lately as the unread number can’t ever seem to go below 140. Junk email mostly. Stuff I signed up to get emails about, but aren’t really relevant to any other time of year outside of Comic Con or the holidays. So I open the email app on my phone and I come across something I haven’t seen in my phone’s massive combined inboxes in quite a long time.

The email appeared…

…and I did this:

*cleans off lenses on glasses*

*rereads the email*

*reads the email one more time*

*happy happy joy joy*

All over a simple email.

The last time I sent out any query letters was last…had to be January/February/March (?). At this point in the year, so many months later, I thought they were all said and done.

I was wrong!

An agent has requested pages of Love, Darrows… my YA LGBT story about Cupid and his boyfriend, part i of the duet. (Duology, but I really love calling Carter and Darrows a duet. I LOVE THEM TOGETHER!) A modern day twist on Cupid’s story from Roman/Greek mythology.

It’s so unexpected and random. It brightened my day a thousandfold, especially since the first half was insanely frazzling. While I know this game so well by now, and I understand that a request for pages doesn’t mean auto-representation or auto-pub, I’m happy…honoredthrilled that someone else wants to share in a story that is so close to my heart. I’m excited for Quent and Lex to be out there again!!!


all gifs found on


Filed under fictional beginnings, happy happy joy joy, i resolute, love carter, love darrows, publish it, query

#AmWriting – It’s been a while…

…since I’ve done one of these posts. Not that I haven’t been writing.

Recently, one of my CP’s asked if I had anything he could read. Since I’ve not started on the novel, and the last one I finished was the “RomCom for myself”, and the current one is nothing I plan on publishing in any way, shape, or form, I told him that there was nothing. But then it stuck me like lightning to someone on the golf course with a club in the air… My novel: SoS…Sync or Swim. It’s been in draft two status since last September(?), August(?). Maybe even July(?). In other words I haven’t bothered with it since last summer sometime. For me the story has this gap where it starts to feel different. The problem is I can’t find it myself. So I forked over the first chapter and hopefully, by the end of this year, I can call it done and finally have it on the query circuit.

That’s the current edit project. Now, the current writing projects:

I’m sure I lost most of my followers by posting my fan fiction piece, “Hey, 6B.” here on this blog. But, for reasons I will not disclose, I feel like I was destined to do it. Plus, it’s been great at keeping focused on something other than the real life insanity that I have going on…and the one thing I have yet to click about the new novel I’ve been plotting.

“Hey, 6B.” will finish being posted within a week or so. I apologize for that to those of you who are following that could care less or aren’t into that sort of stuff. I thank the few readers I do have for this story. Not that the numbers mean anything to me. It’s a special thing to have a few people reading something I’m doing for fun and going along the ride. Especially since I’ve not pimped out this story in anyway…and a few people found it on their own. It means a lot. Thank you. So very much.

Up next, a quick one-shot story that will not be posted here. Then a birthday tale for one of the best RobSquaders I know (someone I’ve ‘known’ online since the EARLY Twilight days). Again, not going to be posted here. So then why am I even mentioning them? Because in my mind, I have until the end of the second one (or the first depending one what I get done when) to get this new novel’s quirk worked out. I just need that one detail that gives this story a unique purpose. Something not cliché or typical. It’s right there within my grasp, so close…

Because that GIANT WRITING GOAL of getting started on this story looms in my near future. IF I could just Indiana Jones grab it and get the ball boulder rolling…

The Chris Evans image was found on tumblr and edited by me in Photobucket.
All gifs found through

As always, D.

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Filed under amwriting, Chris Evans, editing hell, fanfiction, fictional beginnings, keeping entertained, random blathering, thinking out loud, write

“Hey, 6B.” ~ Chapter 2

{original image used with permission by Thekaskproject-art}

Story Summary: Bucky is on a Mission. Find out about his past and try to remember the Man in Blue. His “mission” takes him to Boston where he meets the fun and flirty, Colin Shea. With Colin’s help, he might just find all the answers he’s been searching for…but he also might find love. With outside pressures, Bucky has to decide between remaining in the dark and staying with Colin or going after the man who haunts his nightmares.

Crossover: What’s Your Number? meets Captain America: Winter Soldier/The Avengers/Captain America: Civil War (more the movies and less the books or graphic novels)

Rating: R if this was a movie. MA if it was a TV show. Mature on Archive of Our Own. Not rated on Tumblr. There is some LGBTQ/slash sexual situations, though nothing erotic. It’s a simple Rated-R romcom. No porn. (Think along the lines of Wings meets Love, Darrows, kiTT.) As Cap would say: Language! Because yes, there is some language and double entendres. Not so much violence as of now.

Genre: RomCom/Action

Chapter word count: 1,687

Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Colin Shea, OFC Dane, Natasha Romanov. (OFC – Original Fictional Character)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to their original creators. There is no copyright infringement intended. This is all done in fun and love for my favorite movies. Thank you for stopping by and reading.

Notes: I think I am having way too much fun writing out Colin, but then I’ve always wanted to write him. He’s a proud mimbo (male bimbo) and such a flirt…and just so funny. In reality, I would never write him as my own, because he wouldn’t be my own, which is why this fanfiction thing is perfect! I’m living my dream. Plus, I’m getting to know Winter Soldier better, prefect timing for Civil War. Depending on how fast I can get this typed, I’m aiming at uploading a chapter a week, more if it keeps going this fast.


The sidewalks in Boston have a ring of familiarity as they pass under my feet. Wet concrete under my shoes…This has happened a million times before, but the image isn’t complete. It’s missing something…

No, someone. Tucked up under my arm. A smaller guy. Something about Paramus? Though when I checked there, it lead to nothing about him, nothing pertaining to James Barnes.

“Bucky,” my boss, Dane, says as he struggles with the key in the lock. The key twists and he smiles. He opens the door and holds it, allowing me to pass. “Good morning. Are you excited for your first day?”

His words are a hyper meld.  “Sure.”

Dane nods towards the counter. “Let’s make some coffee.”


“And you tamp down the grounds like so…” He presses a flat metal circle into the coffee grinds. “…and attach this to the machine.”

Dane has been explaining this monolithic coffee machine to me for about an hour. The giant puzzle box only creates a shot or two of black coffee at a time. All pomp and circumstance. Just like something Stark would have designed for no real purpose. It’s tedium for something that anyone walking into a diner would be served without question.

He removes the cup and knocks the used grounds free into a bin. The scoop thing is offered to me. One of his eyebrows lifts and he asks, “Care to take your first try?”

I do everything Dane did. Step by step, checking for an affirmational nod with each step. The cup taps into the dispenser for fresh grounds. Tamped and packed tight, I insert it into the large machine with a twist. Two shot glasses are set under the pour spots. Push the button.

Then I have my hand at steaming the milk in the stainless carafe with the wand coming off the side of the machine. Milk sprays out of the pitcher. I slip it further into the liquid and the milk begins to froth. It builds until it’s as high as the rim. I let that sit beside the filling shot glasses and retrieve two paper cups. One gets a pump of vanilla, the other two pumps of hazelnut. They’re placed on the counter and I pick up the poured shots. One tips easily, pouring in the tea colored liquid. The other…well…Black, sooty sludge slides along the glass before plopping into the cup with a wet splat. Then I pour in the steamed milk to both cups, scooping foam and adding it to the top.

“Done,” I say and present the cups with a wave. Just like Dane’s. Sort of…not at all.

My boss stares at my first attempts of making coffee, blinking slowly and giving a subtle nod. He leans over and sniffs each cup. “Burnt milk, uneven pours.” He straightens and adds, “Well, you can be on register today. How’s that?”

A quick glance passes over the flat black screen, unsure. I took this job for the fact it’s morning work—and I’d be awake not sleeping anyway—leaving me afternoons to search for information anonymously. Anonymous is the key word here. I’m supposed to be hidden and out of sight, thanks to the Stark 2000 coffee maker. Not front and center, which this new position will have me doing. I hope this hiding in plain sight thing works.

“You’ll be fine, Bucky. Just touch the options on the screen as they order. Write their names incorrectly on the cups. Dish out a pastry or two. Most of the customers pay with a card so you won’t have to make change…if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I rub the back of my neck and huff. “Why get their names wrong?”

Dane pins a name badge to a green apron and hands it to me. “Because in coffee culture, it’s expected, and we don’t want to disappoint.”

I should have checked to see if the Globe was hiring a paper boy. Same hours, less difficult. Anonymity a plus.


Once I got used to pushing my finger onto a glassy screen during morning rush, I started offering a small smile with purchase. The misnomers I’ve come up with seem to be a hit with the customers, according to Dane. As he calls each one, he congratulates me on my brilliance.

“I’ll have a half-caf, no fat, tall latte,” the red-head in front of me says, tapping on the counter with her pristine manicured fingernails.

I push the buttons before picking up the smallest of the paper cups. “Name?”

“Natasha,” she says in a sultry voice. Her lips pucker into a small kiss before she whooshes it my way. Her green eyes meet mine, blinking as slow as her tongue drags along her lower lip.

I freeze mid N on her cup as it hits me. The street fight in Washington DC. She wore a tight, black leather outfit that hugged every curve as she and the man in blue fought me. I shot at her and barely missed. She’s staring at me. Recognizes me, though I wore a mask then. She knows my eyes.

But before either of us can utter a peep or make a move, the man behind her asks, “How about you buy me a coffee and I’ll give you an afternoon of pleasure?”

Her index finger flies up as though she’s about to declare an idea. “Hold on,” she says in a raspy voice. She glances over her shoulder and utters, “Wannabe rocker isn’t my type. Move along.”

Her finger drops and she offers me a smile, the stare down all but forgotten. “How much?”

I scribble the name on the cup and hand it to Dane. Then I plant my eyes on the screen and let my loose bangs hang in my face and read the total from the screen. She swipes her card through the slot on her side of the machine.

The receipt exchanges custody from me to her just as the guy behind asks, “How about you buy me a cannoli and we can talk about why you think I’m a wanna be rocker.”

Dane calls out, “Latte for Anastasia.” His brow crinkles in confusion as he looks at me. I nod at Natasha. She rolls her eyes and walks to the other end of the counter to retrieve her drink.

The guy’s mess of light brown hair almost touches my nose as we lean to watch the Natasha swaying back and forth in her tight black skirt.

“That’s a no, right?” he asks after her. He rights himself and now his nose is almost touching mine and our eyes touch for the first time.

There is such a thing as love at first sight. I felt the pang with the Man in Blue who refused to fight me…this pulse deep in my heart that made it painful for me to hurt him. Mission or not. But as I stare into those eyes of bold ocean blues from afar, I don’t feel love. Impossible. Once in a lifetime—as short as the memories I do own are—is more than plenty to have such an experience.

I’d classify this moment as one of pure lust.

“See you latte,” I tell him and try to focus on the screen. I’m pushing the options, left and right, without his order being spoken. Honestly, I just need something to concentrate on other than the thought of those perfect lips he licks, then presses flat into a playful smile. Those lips on my body, on my—

“Are you taking an order? Because I believe you’re pushing more buttons than what’s required for the one cup of basic coffee I want.”

Huh. I’ve entered: grande, double shot, 3 pumps pumpkin spice, non-fat with whip latte. Too late to change it. And even if I knew how to do it, I wouldn’t. I want him to tell me his name and we don’t write those on the ceramic cups according to Dane when I wrote “Snott Pang” on one earlier.

“It’s on the house,” I say and pick up the largest paper cup we have. The tip of the green Sharpie touches the surface, ready. “Name?”

“Colin. One L.”

I write the name and check the appropriate boxes. I stick the cup into Dane’s hand. He reads the name. He shakes his head and utters, “Amateur.”

“You wrote colon, didn’t you?” Colin laughs. “Typical.” He leans over the counter, giving my name tag a long study. “Bucky” draws out in a deep voice that is as smooth as it is soulful. Our eyes meet again. “Is that your real name?”

Honestly, I don’t know.

“I haven’t seen you in here before. Any chance you’d want to toss in a complimentary pastry as well, Buck?”

The way he pronounces my name gets my heart racing. Every consonant is given special attention with verve as though every letter is as important to say as the next. His finger taps my tag in a flirtatious way, dragging it along every letter from Y to B.

I’d be willing to trade a crème filled pastry for a cream f—

“Seriously, Bucky,” Dane says wholly unamused. “Colin?”

Colin reaches over the stacks of cups to take his drink from Dane. The whip with sprinkles on top wobbles as he brings it to his nose. A deep mmm purrs from him as he sets it on the counter. “I can’t believe you didn’t at least go for Colon.”

I cough and stutter. “Well, I couldn’t think with you…staring at me.”

A sly twinge hits the left corner of his mouth, forming into a devious grin. His finger slides into the whip and swirls around. The white cream clings to his finger when he pulls it free. It slides across his tongue, being cleaned as those intense blue eyes are glued to mine. When his finger is fully clean, they roll in bliss and he groans in pleasure as though he just made the sweetest love on the planet. “You have the best cream, Buck.”

Is it quitting time yet? I have something to take care of. Like now!

Previous Chapter/Story Beginning

Next Chapter

Ending Notes: This is one of the few original chapters I wrote and kept, having deleted the whole story before. Classic Colin, really. Then yesterday, while googling for the link to Thekaskproject-art’s site so I can link him, I came across this perfect image for this chapter. NOT DONE ON PURPOSE. I DON’T REMEMBER HAVING SEEN IT BEFORE. It wasn’t on my Pinterest board for this story (which is where I keep and store a bunch of stuff, it’ll be locked until I’m done writing) or anything. So blissfully coincidental…I hope it’s okay to share…


Bucky’s hat is different, the shirt is different, but good lord, Colin is pegged!!! Happy sigh, happy sigh.





Filed under fanfiction, fictional beginnings, Hey 6B, love story, the fangirling has made it here

Is fanfiction really that bad?

Really? Seriously?

In my opinion, no. But then, that’s where writing really came back into my life. I found it through reading and writing my own stories during a the hyper-Twi-fangirl moment years. I never saw it as something horrible and to only be whispered about…unless you’re reading that sort of fic…but it’s not entirely bad. It’s a way to celebrate what you love most about the characters. Take them and give them different situations and lives. There are fics for everything from Star Wars to Captain America to Dr. Who and Harry Potter. Though, honestly, I have only ventured into the realm of Twilight fanfiction…

by Alex at TheKaskProject-art

Then I saw that pic on tumblr one day last week. It’s AMAZING!
(see Alex’s blog here: {Adventures of a Shippy Mind} )
This is like two of my Happy Chris Evans worlds colliding into one great masterpiece.
And the story of Bucky Barnes meets Colin Shea exploded in my head. “Hey, 6B.” was born.

And because I am desperately trying to get away from SoS before I hate that story…because I hit a major block there, though I knew where it went wrong and what to fix, it’s not clicking still…and I want to save this next story, Wings, for NaNoWriMo this year (last year, I started Darrows far too soon), I am going to tackle a quick fic or two.

A lot of authors seem to frown on fics. I don’t know why, really. Is it not an original story? For the most part, yes. But just because there are characters that have been created by someone else, doesn’t mean the story can’t be unique and original. There are plenty of books in the bookstore that are retellings using characters we have known forever.

Each one of those stories have been written using characters of someone else’s story. Characters we all know, whether we love them or not. Each one is an independent tale of the character, intriguing and fulfilling in every way. These types of books are accepted and loved by many. Does it really make a difference if the story is commissioned to be written and sold for profit? No. Because those fiction authors and artists do it more from the standpoint of love for the character and story.

On the converse side of that, there are a few out there that started out as fanfics, but are now independent, full-fledged original stories.

Disclaimer: I have read Beutiful Bastard in both incarnations, fic and novel. I have not read Fifty Shades in any incarnation. Wallbanger I read as a fic, I own on Kindle.

And I’m not saying every story out there is literary gold. I’m not saying that every story out there is right or wrong. What I am saying is that every story out there is just as original and worthy of one’s time. Profit lines shouldn’t matter–though I know they do. It’s all supposed to be fun and enjoyment in a shared love.

And that’s how I see it. I don’t care if I lose credibility points as an author. That’s really on the person judging. I’ll be proud of this no matter. Granted, this past week, I went back and forth over writing it. I do need to keep off one story for sanity purposes. I do need to put off another story for a fun little writing competition. And this is all for fun. I’ve always wanted to combine something awesome outside of Twilight and Fright Night (still have never published that one, but I do love the story so much)… And this is what’s calling my name. I will post it to Ao3, under my “Storywrtr” moniker. I will post it on my tumblr–Storywrtr. I am thinking of posting it here.

I’m so uber exicited to be going back to where this journey began!

“Flux capacitor fluxing.”

Long live fanfiction and nostalgia!


Filed under aspirations, book covers, books that speak, fictional beginnings, finding myself, having fun, keeping entertained, love letter to quite the character, on the book shelf, random blathering, short story, the fangirling has made it here, write

Here we go.

This could be a #TBT post as well as a #WT17 post…

That’s right. Pitch Wars. It’s here and screaming loud. Darrows wants to go, but I keep tugging his hand, trying to keep him here…because that’s a tough competition and Darrows is already visiting some agents. That being said, the agents aren’t getting back to me and I am more determined than ever to get Darrows published.


So I am going through his closet, picking out the best outfit I possibly can, making sure not a comma is out-of-place, not a word causes a wrinkle. I’m accessorizing with a new, revamped query letter. I’m combing through his summary, making sure everything about it is straight and neat. And searching for his perfect date possibilities.

You know, it would be great if there was like a site for agents/authors…

actual picture doesn’t come close to my Quent

Name: Love, Darrows: Quentin Pendelton Darrows

Gender: Male

Suffix: YA
Stats: Contemporary, Roman and Greek Myth Retelling, Romance, LGBTQ, Diverse
Weight: 89,927 words heavy

Address: in computer files…until you want to give me a chance, then I’ll become a traveler from agent to editor to publishing and beyond.


Job: High School Senior at Romulus Senior High, Go Wolves!

About Me: Well, I’m slightly OCD, but don’t tell Lex I admitted to it. Basketball games evoke as much joy as creating poetry about life taking place around me. Sculpture brings forth my inner artist. Archery fuels a fire in my soul. I am a Wünderkid, but don’t let that studious social tag impact your thoughts. I am quite popular and fun. At parties, I’m practically the center of attention, if something causes a moment of awe, chances are I had my hand in it. I can also be that guy who enjoys a weekend away at a private lake house with the guy he loves.

Life is meant to be savored like a special holiday dinner, shared with those you love.

Likes: Guys are definitely in my like category. Well, guy. Lexington Carter. The moment we met, I was encapsulated by his dastardly, evil genius ways. Lex snagged me early on…I don’t apologize for it.
Creating love with my arrows is as pertinent to my existence as Lex is. (Did I forget to mention I’m a Cupid-in-training? Probably should have input that above.)
Psyche Xenakis…but not for the reasons you think.

Dislikes: Dislikes really need to be placed under a harsher label. Let’s just call it what it truly is. Hate. I hate hate. Hate eats everything essential for Life as though it’s the cereal baring the same name. It’s wrong. It’s strong. And it must be eradicated at all costs.
That being said, there are a few beings in my life that deserve nothing but my hatred, but I won’t get into it here. Okay, maybe I will touch on a few. Thomas Janice and Apollo Durant. The two-face and low-class archer who think they own Romulus and every female contained within. The word trust isn’t in their vocabularies, not in their online dictionaries, repels from them like water rolling along a duck’s feathers.

What I’m looking for: Someone to love me, to believe in me. Represent me in the best light possible. A person who supports my need to show others that love is more than four letters. That is not some antiquated notion belonging to a select few. To show that Myth can be as popular now as it has ever been. Someone to give me that chance to prove my worth among gods and humans alike.

This is so Cruz and Jamie… talking to you Rick’s Chick and Tonguetwied


Not sure how the actual website and notification systems go…and I’m not going to even reduce Quent to one of those ISO ads from the personal columns back in the 90s…I mean, we are in the 2010s now.

Anyway, I do have it down to 20 agents/authors/mentors…I have a tentative top five already, but at this juncture, I’ve only scoped out the wish list on each site. Because, they can be the most awesome person, funny, liking the same stuff I do, and there were quite a few…but if they don’t like anything near what Darrows is, there’s no point in even trying.

Now comes the most difficult part of this #PitchWars thing for me. So far. Going through those five and making sure they are someone who would seriously consider Darrows for who he is and what he offers. I’m going through with one of those special combs they use in schools (in MT anyway) and really closing in on every little detail. Do they want modern myth/retelling? Do they like a guy who’s in love with his best friend? Are they going to believe and enjoy the *magic* that Quent has and uses? Can they adore the way Quent narrates a story or are they going to hate it off the bat?

I am so freaking determined to make Quent lovable to someone other than myself…and maybe the few others who’ve read his side. (Sometimes I know they’re being nice to us, and I so LOVE them for it.) I’m ready to work harder than I ever have before. I’m ready to get him published and share him with the world and make everyone see that it’s okay for Cupid to love a guy…because no one lets him do that…because I want love to be the norm regardless of gender, race, religion, etc.

Because I want to get him done, get Lex out the door, too, so I can peacefully work with Cruz and Jamie and their ambitions and goals…Nikki and McClane, too. And Jaden. Jana and Kurt. Nine and Eva. Jonas and Kenna. Alexander and Elizabeth(…originally Edward and Elizabeth but that changed…a few of you know why.) Sean and Gemma. CJ and Rose. Kate and Harrison and Flynn. Vaughn and Nadine. The Soundtrack of My Life. All the stories I’ve written. All the stories I will write. Probably all about Love in one form or another.

I wish Love was a genre, because I might actually own a chunk of that real estate.

Off to keep reading mentor bios. More #PitchWars bellyaching  later!!!

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Filed under fictional beginnings, learning lessons, love carter, love darrows, love story, Pitch Wars, publish it, query, self-doubt