Wednesday, 22 June 2022

Your Midweek Update for 06/22/22

Things with Ben are definitely what I’d called “honeymoon”. When we’re not fucking, we’re killing – and I’d definitely call it a rampage. Every night these past few weeks, we’ve been going out dancing, or hunting, or scoping out a potential victim. Most nights, I’m not walking in the door until after midnight. I’m exhausted in the best way. His stamina is incredible. Even in my 30s, I couldn’t butcher two men in one night. The strength it takes. Especially since he says he’s not prone to violent murders. He prefers poisons and strangulation – and when I tell I’ve been fantasizing about those forearms ever since… - things that are cleaner and not automatically attributed to large men like him. But for me, he wrapped those short, meaty, fingers around a cleaver and disposed to two business men right in front of me. There is little I haven’t done already when it comes to murder but it felt so good to have an arm wrapped around my waist while I pierced a woman’s eyeball with her own stiletto heel. I can’t even say I’ve missed it because I’ve never had it in the first place. It’s been just over a week since I found out about Ben and already, I know I’m becoming addicted to his touch. How could I not? All any of us have ever wanted is a partner; someone who understands and supports every aspect of our lives. And to meet someone so intimately familiar with my desires and needs (and are able to meet them) is so rare. And I’ve been lonely. I’m not sure if you noticed that from my weeks of pining and wailing but this year has sucked. I’ve had to relearn so many things. I’ve had to start over but this time, I’ve had to do it alone. It’s nice to talk to someone who understands. Casey is still learning. And she’s my daughter, we will never be equals. But Ben? He is a whole god damn person who makes me feel seen. I am so glad I didn’t kill him. I know this is the honeymoon phase and something will inevitably throw a wrench in my plans for a happy life, but can I just enjoy it while it lasts? For however long it lasts? Don’t I deserve to be happy?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 15 June 2022

Your Midweek Update for 15/06/22

I’ve been looking for a partner in all things for so long that I don’t think I ever wondered what would happen if I found someone who fit the bill.

You all remember Ben. The boy toy who gives good head? Well the funniest thing happened last Friday. I was on my way home from work and feeling horny so I decided to stop by Benny Boy’s work at the library – because yes, I am fucking a sexy librarian – but his coworkers said he had just started his break. I went around to the staff parking lot, hoping to catch a quicky before he was back on the clock and I saw him walking around the corner so, naturally, I followed him.

And I kept following him and I kept following him. Suddenly we were on the other side of the train tracks in a poorly monitored area of the city – something I clocked very early on in my stay here. My first thought is that he had some sort of drug problem which is technically none of my business but it might cause some tension.

But I was proven wrong when he walked up to a man on his smoke break, spoke to him for about 30 seconds, shook his hand, and then walked away. The man suddenly began to have trouble breathing, he then collapsed to the ground as though he had no control of his limbs and shortly after, he died. I’m amazed I didn’t clock it sooner because it’s a method I used to use all the time – although it’s definitely become less popular in the post-pandemic world.

There’s a vein in your left palm that people used to say connects your ring finger to your heart. Science says that’s not true but there are some lovely veins that do travel through your wrist and make their way back to your heart with few detours (Casey says it’s the cephalic vein which made me laugh for 20 minutes). With a little prick, you can send poison almost directly to their heart.

I had to keep following him after that. I just had to know. But obviously I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought because I suddenly found myself dragged into a mall entrance and shoved against a wall.

I have never seen Ben looking so feral. So dangerous. So. Fucking. Hot.

I asked him where he got his hands on botulism and that seemed to stun him to his senses. We went for coffee, sat in the park, and we talked. For hours. He told me about how he started poisoning residents in his grandmother’s nursing him when he was a teenager. To him, what he was doing was a mercy and the more he looked at the world, the more he realized more than just the elderly were in need of “mercy”. He’s been killing people ever since. Not as many and not as often but he enjoys it. I could see it in his eyes as he talked about the woman last year who bled from her eyes. He was so passionate as he talked about his victims. I told him about my own career, or at least the highlights. Something to let him know that he can trust me because we’re the same. After a while we walked back to the library – and yes, he just skipped the last half of his shift but he hasn’t been reprimanded yet so I think his coworkers think he was just getting laid for 4 hours.

He did but much later (and not for 4 hours, jesus christ).

On the way to our vehicles, I demonstrated my own passion for the craft by stabbing a barista in the femoral artery. The way he looked at me… only James has ever looked at me with such desire. And admiration. I have never felt so seen.

We have a date tonight. We’re going down to the river to find a late-night jogger and kill them. Together. I haven’t had that before. A partner. Someone who understands how it feels and why I love it so much.

I know how incredible it is that we’ve found each other. There are about 4000 active serial killers in the world and of the 7 billion people walking around, the odds of two killers finding each other is… astronomically low.

Feels a little bit like fate.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 8 June 2022

Your Midweek Update for 06/08/22

 Tell me why there is a Karen in every town who thinks of herself as an amateur detective but really they're just a nosy little bitch who doesn't understand the concept of boundaries. 

I caught a neighbour at the motel digging through the trash which in and of itself isn't suspicious but then she looked at me and her eyes lit up. Over the next few days, I kept seeing her everywhere - even away from the motel, The woman was the worst stalker ever. And I've encountered a lot of stalkers in my time. 

Why am I bragging about the amount of people that have caught on to my lifestyle? 

This latest woman clearly has too much time on her hands and not enough brain cells to realize that she's in danger. I turned and caught her eye across the street and she fucking waved. She doesn't realize - or maybe she doesn't care - how easy it would be to turn the tables. To lose her in a back alley and corner her like the prey she is. Gut her from her belly button to her goose neck. 

I'm not even particularly worried about her finding anything in my trash - honestly, does she think I'm that new? She just pisses me off. The audacity of this woman is just staggering. She has to die. 

And it's the same everywhere I go. Every town has someone who's watched too many crime dramas and thinks they can solve a crime all on their own. 

Fucking Nancy Drew building false expectations.

No one is that lucky and no one's care stays in that nice condition. And what the hell is strawberry blonde? Those are two different colours! 

Anyways, if Karen bothers me one more time, I will be fileting her alive. I have no more patience for people who consider my life entertaining. Aside from you, dear readers, because I'm offering this information to you willingly. You're not peering through my window at 7am trying to catch me in the act. Or if you are, you should know better. Fans don't live long. I sincerely hope it's not one of you. My Reader Views are low enough as it is since Jason left. Literally murdering my own fan base seems like overkill - and I would know. 

Too on the nose? I claim to be a prolific serial killer, not an epic writer. In any case, Karen will likely die later this week so if she is a reader... sorry?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 1 June 2022

Your Midweek Update for 06/01/22

When you love so deeply and you can't imagine doing anything else for the rest of your life. The great love affair. The thing I am most passionate about. I want to share it with everyone. Talk about it constantly. Think about it even more. Live and breathe it, embody it because even at its worst it is still better than being without it. I can't even imagine being without it. I couldn't breathe. It's impossible to do anything else because all roads lead back home. And it is home. Comforting, familiar, safe and yet exciting because being with the thing I love the most is the most exciting thing in the world. I never wondered if another could take its place. The prospect of leaving completely brings me to my knees but stepping back isn't so terrifying. Allowing room in my heart for something else - not replacing just sharing - is something I could absolutely explore. With less absolutism than my wording implies. But I would be willing to change, I suppose, for the right thing. Nothing has ever come close to comparing so it's never been an issue. But I have this fear in my heart that one day I will have to decide if I can make room in my fearful heart for something else. And will it be by choice or by force? Will I be allowed to walk away, or take a step back at my own pace? Will that be easier or harder than being forced apart by fate? At least then I can look back and have someone to blame. It might ease the burden of regret to have someone to blame. Besides, a great love like this could not fathomably end by anything other than farce. Even if it causes me pain and sorrow, I would choose it every time. Love outweighs all others. So I suppose, for all my concessions, I couldn't give up even a fraction of heart to another. It is all or nothing. Until the day I die.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 25 May 2022

Your Midweek Update for 05/25/22

When I cut off all ties with my husband and left in the middle of the night, I did not expect to miss him so much. I’m typing this while another man sleeps in my bed – Ben, I know, but he gives good orgasms – and yet, all I can think about his James.

That’s not even what I was going to talk to you about this week. I was going to talk about the cashier who was found absolutely butchered in the back alley of a local convenience store. I mean someone had hacked away at his stomach until his ribcage was bare and his floating ribs were missing because someone accidentally nicked them with the knife and had to put them through the incinerator.

Next time, give me correct change and don’t argue with me when I politely ask you to double check your work.

But I’m not even in the mood to tell you about that because after I murdered the cashier, I called Ben, we had slightly exhausted sex, and as I lay awake after begrudgingly letting him sleep over, all I could think about was the dumpster in the alley.

I had initially wanted to throw the cashier’s body in the dumpster. Even if his body was discovered before trash collection took him away, he wouldn’t have been discovered the next day and identification wouldn’t have been so simple. I tried to drag him in by myself but his organs were splashing all over the place and I was just making a mess so I left him sitting against the dumpster. I am a strong woman but dead bodies are heavy – especially when they’ve been opened in the middle. It’s like trying to carry a full casserole dish with wax paper.

A kill like that would have been a lot easier with a partner. Sure, I could have called Casey but I realize that she’s only got a few more months of school before she’s potentially off on her own. It would only been one more month of school but between the kidnapping and the separation, she has a few grades to make up before she can graduate.

I’m very cognizant of the fact that this is around the age where I lose my children. And if, for whatever reason, she does leave, I will be well and truly alone. My parents are gone, my sister is in the wind, my husband has broken my heart and I will be alone.

I don’t know specifically what it was about this particular kill – beyond having to admit that I can’t deadlift a bowl of unset Jell-O over my shoulder – but it the loneliness struck me in a way it hasn’t for a while.

I miss my partner. I miss having a partner. Someone who has my back when I’m out doing the one thing that brings me joy. James was my partner in everything and I don’t know when or if I’ll ever find that with someone else.

Maybe I’ll ask Ben how he feels about carrying overcooked spaghetti and meatballs in a dollar store paper plate.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Tuesday, 24 May 2022

Author Roma Cordon Reveals Her Top 5 Books

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the BEWITCHING A HIGHLANDER by Roma Cordon Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

Wednesday, 18 May 2022

Your Midweek Update for 05/18/22

When I was seventeen, I murdered a man – a boy, really. I took a football cleat and I thrust it into the back of his head. I did it because I wanted to and for no other reason. Someone was always going to be my first; why not him?

The next day at school, I feigned shock and sorrow when they gathered us outside to announce to the student population that one of our own had been taken. It was a murder too brutal for any of his peers to be considered a subject so the police turned their attention upwards.

A few weeks after the boy’s death, they arrested the gym teacher, Mr. S. Apparently, Mr. S. had been sleeping with one of his students and it was no large leap to assume that he’d committed murder to keep his secrets hidden. I allowed Mr. S. to go to prison for my crimes because he was already a bad man and I wanted to continue killing.

Years later, I ran into someone I went to school with – whom time remembers as friends but I doubt we had spoken a word to one another. I learned from them that shortly after his imprisonment, Mr. S. committed suicide upon learning that the girl he’d raped was pregnant. That girl later gave birth to a baby boy whom she gave up for adoption.

When I was thirty, I ran into a young boy who looked familiar in a way I couldn’t place. Or rather, he ran into me. Stained one of my favourite skirts and honestly, if he were ten years older, I likely would have killed him for that. But I didn’t because even I have my lines I will never cross. But he was sweet and he apologized so how could I resist letting him live? His parents, on the other hand, are a couple I deeply regret letting seeing the sunrise.

They were rude and spoke in harsh words but any attempt at logic was met with force. We were in too public a place, I couldn’t kill them, but I wanted to. I imagined slicing their sternum open and peeling their skin like a banana until all their organs fell out.

I followed them for a few days before I followed them all the way to the airport and I lost my chance.

Sometimes I would wonder what happened to that little boy.

I was thinking about those two stories this week. In all likelihood, they have nothing to do with each other but there’s just the slightest chance that fate keeps people together – keeps bringing them back into your circle even when you don’t realize it.

Casey was essentially a gift from my husband but she is one of the best things to ever happen to me. And on top of that, she brought me closer to my sister and some closure with my mother. I never knew how much I was missing her until I met her.

Casey has a brother. A half-brother, actually. They share a mother. He had left home before she murdered their parents and had fleeting contact with him before that. She saw him on the local news the other day. He was running a centre for at-risk youth and was promoting his facility. At her insistence, we went to find him so she could see if her big brother was really all right.

I should blame her for keeping family secrets but I understand. Some stories are too painful to mention.

He was over the moon to find out his sister was alive. He’d heard of the death of their parents but hadn’t bothered to attend the funeral for reasons he didn’t have to mention. The two of them reconnected and while Casey has been omitting a lot of the details, she seems lighter. Talking with her big brother, even if she can’t be completely honest, has brought back an airiness to her walk.

I can’t believe she’s seventeen, nearly eighteen, now. The same age I was when first started. Her brother – Jonah – is about ten years older than her.

It’s perfectly reasonable to assume that the three stories are a coincidence. The child born in the scandal of my first kill. The young boy deserving of a better life. The young man in front of me trying to change the world he grew up in. They’re three completely different people.

But I can’t help but wonder.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Friday, 6 May 2022

Excerpt of Dublin Ink by Sienna Blake

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the DUBLIN INK by Sienna Blake Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Monday, 2 May 2022

Author Natasha Alterici Picks Favourites

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the HEATHEN by Natasha Alterici & Ashley A. Woods Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Wednesday, 27 April 2022

Your Midweek Update for 04/27/22

Is time blindness a symptom of COVID? I woke up yesterday and was absolutely certain that it was Saturday. I realized in time for work but then I was absolutely certain, again, that it was Thursday. If you would have told me it was Tuesday, I would have fought you on it.

I don’t understand how the mind works and why it occasionally decides to stop working. It’s not as though anything unusual has happene

I realized as I was typing just how wrong that statement was going to be. Again, I know something is wrong because I forgot that stress can affect sleep and lack of sleep causes memory loss.

See, I know science things. Usually only science things that pertain to murder but also non-murder science things.

I know why I’ve been tired and erratic lately – and you all do, too. I’m just a little tired of being…tired. What I wouldn’t give to be able to go back in time to the way it was before I knew the truth.

Not even to before the love of my life fell in love with someone else. I think if I could live in blissful ignorance forever, I would. It’s incredibly selfish of me to ask him to fide his feelings but I would make that request over and over again if it meant I could think about it without throwing someone off a ledge with tears in my eyes. I wouldn’t be forgetting the days if my life hadn’t been completely upended.

I know you’ve heard me bitch about all this before but you may be surprised to learn this heartbreak doesn’t go away over night. I was certainly shocked. Most of my break ups ended in murder. How was I to know?

Casey, for the most part, is enjoying this new town – this anonymity. She still so young and excited about murder. She’s building her own routines, making her own mistakes and cleaning them up herself. For the most part. I did have to flush a toe down a Starbucks toilet but all’s well that ends well. She’s coming into her own and I’m so proud of her. I just feel like I’m not at 100% so how can I enjoy it?

I want to be happy for her – I am happy for her – but I just don’t… feel it.

What am I supposed to do?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 20 April 2022

Your Midweek Update for 04/20/22

I’m perpetually amazed at the lengths of my own patience. Or, rather, I’m amazed at how much bullshit I’ll put up with before I finally rid the world of another idiot.

You would think I had learned my lesson about killing people I’m even remotely connected to – especially in the workplace – but some people are too dumb to live, even if their office is two away from mine. I know committing murder when I’m still in my three-month probation period is not the best idea I’ve ever had but neither is calling Ben at 1am and having sex in the back of his truck. We’re making all sorts of bad decisions this week.

I still haven’t murdered Ben, in case any of you were wondering whether or not I’ve become emotionally attached to my new pet. It would have been so easy to kill him a thousand times. When I was riding his cock, I could have slit his throat; but then I got distracted thinking about whether continuing to fuck him while he was bleeding out would be considered necrophilia.

We’re not going to talk about the orgasm I had while thinking about necrophilia. I don’t think we’re quite there yet in our relationship.

Although congratulations, dear readers, you are officially the longest and healthiest relationship I’ve ever been in.

Back to the idiot at work I probably shouldn’t have killed.

The work I’m doing is very simple and barely requires the necessity to come into work but the company insists on it. It’s mostly calling people and coordinating donations and then filing those sponsors in the system. Not exactly a skill-heavy position – which was good for me because skill-less positions tend to not look as closing at people’s fake IDs – and yet some people still manage to screw it up.

This working for the company for years and yet she managed to lose thousands of dollars without any repercussions. She hasn’t been stealing it, mind you, a little thievery I can forgive, she genuinely screwed up so much data entry that she lost track of over $5600 that is just floating around the internet somewhere.

Being an inherently good person, I went to talk to her first, but it quickly became clear that she had no idea what I was talking about. And that is when I realized that skill-less jobs should still include the ability to count to ten without using your toes.

She had to go.

I reported her error to her supervisor and when he called her in for a meeting, I followed her home, suffocated her with a plastic bag, packed as many of her belongings as I could fit into her car, and drove both of them out of town. She is currently wanted for fraud and they will likely never find her body at the bottom of the river in the next town over.

It was a clean enough kill; I’m just having flashbacks of all the times I’ve killed a coworker and it’s gone horribly wrong. Especially since I had to involve myself further in order to make the cover story work. But I mean, who would report someone for fraud and THEN kill them? It makes no sense.

At least I’m hoping that’s what the detective thinks – especially since her case is being treated as a person of interest rather than a homicide.

Like I said, not a lot of amazing decisions being made this week but we’re persevering.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 13 April 2022

Your Midweek Update for 04/13/22

I didn’t go to my mother's funeral. Instead, I went to work like I always do, and I decapitated a cyclist on my way home. Well actually, his head didn’t come all the way off. A lot of the surrounding muscle and tissue tore but it didn’t quite sever the spine. So he was flopping about kind of like a bobblehead doll until their heart stopped beating. It all took way too long. This is what I get for using cheap garroting wire. I forgot my own when I took off with Casey so I’ve adapted one out of piano wire but it just doesn’t work as well. It’s not that I’ve gotten weaker, it’s that I have insufficient tools.

If one of you makes a comment about “a shoddy craftsman”, I will find where you live and I will use my insufficient tool very slowly.

Is that scary or dirty?

Regardless, the day the world said goodbye to my mother, I tried to keep it as normal as possible and only briefly stumbled. Of course it couldn’t be perfect, that would be asking too much. But it was fine. It was normal. Frankly, I don’t have the energy for more than “normal” lately. If anything remotely exciting happens, I may snap.

I’m just tired, dear readers. I don’t think I realized how tired I am until I sat down to write. I feel like I’m slowly unravelling, leaking out at the edges but not enough to be noticed until its too late. I suppose that’s exactly what’s happening.

Everything is coming apart and I don’t know what to do about it.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Tuesday, 12 April 2022

Author Jo Denning Picks Top 5 Scenes from Dead Blood City

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the DEAD BLOOD CITY by Jo Denning Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway! Link in bio.


Monday, 11 April 2022

Matthew Erman Discusses the Inspiration for Witchblood

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the WITCHBLOOD by Matthew Erman & Lisa Sterle Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Wednesday, 6 April 2022

Your Midweek Update for 04/06/22

The things I have done to avoid writing this Update, dear readers. I worked overtime, I stayed out late and went on a killing spree – I’m now wanted in three counties even if they don’t know it’s me – I took Casey out for a girls’ weekend, spent way more money than I meant to, drank about as much as I meant to.

It was like I knew the end was coming and I was trying to fill as much of my time as possible with the things I love. I garroted a man on a subway platform, stole his coffee and walked onto the approaching train like nothing had happened. I’ve never felt sexier or more powerful in my entire life. And I could do that because I’d done my research and cased the platform over the last few weeks, found the blind spots, found the regulars who would be noticed if they went missing. I picked a business man who clearly wasn’t used to taking the train to work. His shoes were definitely not made for public transportation. He was so quite when he died. I almost wasn’t sure he’d completely succumbed but there’s no mistaking the weight of a dead man in your arms.

Normally, I wouldn’t have put so much work into the premeditation unless it was a special project but without James to have my back, I need to be careful. I’ve grown so complacent that in his absence, I’ve had to rebuild the muscle – the instinct – to protect only myself. And Casey. But she’s more self-sufficient that James and the kids so I rarely worry about her these days. Maybe I should worry about her more.

Or maybe I shouldn’t be a mother. I never wanted to give birth and I am so grateful that is no longer something I need to worry about. But the children who came into my care were no less my children. I’ve said as much a thousand times. The closest people in your life don’t have to be related by blood – in my case, hardly any of them are. At this point, I think it’s just my sister whom I haven’t heard from in months, I don’t even know if she’s alive or if she’s safe. I probably would have heard on the news if she’d been arrested again but other than that, I don’t know how or where she is. I don’t know how I’m going to get word to her.

Mother is dead.

James called because even if I didn’t tell him where I went, he always finds me. Apparently he was the closest thing to a relative that they could get a hold of so they told him. The doctors said something vague about heart failure – which I find hilarious because it’s well documented that my mother never had a heart – and assured him that she barely suffered. And now I have a choice: I can go to the funeral on Friday, undoing all of the work I’ve done to leave my life behind, or I can stay here and I can leave my mother to rot in peace knowing she got the last word.

She named James as the executor of her will. Not her daughter, her son-in-law. There’s knowing my mother didn’t care about or trust me and there’s finding out that the husband you’ve been separated from for two months is responsible for carrying out your mother’s final wishes.

She barely liked James, always said that his profession was beneath me, and yet he gets this distinguished honor? I don’t even know why I want it.

I think I wanted to know that somewhere, deep down, she loved her daughters – despite everything she did to us over the years. But now I know the truth. And I don’t know what to do. I guess I have two days to decide how I’m going to bid my mother farewell.

It’s over.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe 

Friday, 1 April 2022

Anthony Soehner Lists The Top 5 Scenes From The Prince

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the THE PRINCE by Antony Soehner Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Excerpt from Star Wars: Queens Hope by E.K. Johnston

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the STAR WARS: QUEEN'S HOPE by E.K. Johnston Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Wednesday, 23 March 2022

Your Midweek Update for 03/23/22

Spring is always so messy in my line of work. Muddy footprints, flooded body dump sites, increased visibility. Especially in the first few weeks when the weather warms, I have to be hypervigilant about my every move. Now more than ever.

It hit me the other day how natural my partnership with James really was. I relied on him for everything without ever realizing it. He was just always there. Garbage bag full of body parts ripped? He bought extra-strength on our next grocery run. Left a shoe print at a crime scene? He ‘accidentally’ stepped in it to obscure the tracks. Need to talk to Jason about puberty? He just takes care of it.

He just always took care of it – took care of me – and I trusted him to always be there and now he’s gone. I don’t want to but I miss him. Of course I miss him. He was my partner in all things for ten years and then he decided to fall in love with someone else.

Those were the words he used.

Not ‘slept with’, not ‘have feelings for’, not ‘fucked’. “I am in love with someone else.”

What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? ‘Congratulations’?

He was mine – obsessed with me, beholden to me, MINE – and now, what, the spell is broken? Ten years was enough time and he’s going to move on?

I should have killed him. Should have killed them both. I still think about it, sometimes. I know why I couldn’t. It doesn’t make me any less angry. This thing that was a part of my life for so long is just gone and I didn’t have a say in how or why it went away. I suppose I can control the ‘how’. I’m the one who left. I’m the one who can’t forgive his actions. He wanted to stay, wanted to get over it and keep the family together.

How was I supposed to trust him knowing he wasn’t fully in it?

My entire life is about trust. I can’t trust anyone because I and everyone I love will lose. But I trusted him. I trusted him with my life – with the lives of my children – and fuck if he didn’t throw it in my face.

I’m glad he’s not the petty, vindictive type. I could be sitting in an electric chair right now but instead, I’m in a slightly uneven desk chair that has definitely conformed to someone else’s ass. Even when he’s gone, I am still putting my trust in him. I can only hope and pray that he doesn’t turn me in. Because I still can’t kill him. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.

I might not be his anymore but he will always be mine.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Tuesday, 22 March 2022

Excerpt of The Cruiser by Rowan Rossler

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the THE CRUISER by Rowan Rossler Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

Monday, 21 March 2022

Excerpt of Showmances and Stage Kisses by Bowden Walker

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the SHOWMANCES AND STAGE KISSES by Suzanne de Planque Writing As Bowden Walker Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Friday, 18 March 2022

Excerpt of A Measure of Serenity by Bryan Prosek

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the A MEASURE OF SERENITY by Bryan Prosek Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Wednesday, 16 March 2022

Your Midweek Update for 16/03/22

I hate my body right now, this is not how I wanted to spend my week. I fucked up my hip on Sunday chasing down a victim and now I have this shooting pain up my side whenever I breathe. Totally normal. I’m just grumpy because I didn’t sleep well and I have to make a chiropractor appointment for some time this week.

I have enough time, it’s not like I’m doing much beyond going to work and murdering people, it’s just disappointing to face my own mortality and deteriorating body. I hate this reminder that I’m going to have to stop killing one day. There is a small comfort in knowing I will be able to pass my legacy on to Casey – provided she lives to maturity – but it’s not the same. I would much rather be an immortal murderer than have the memory of my deeds living on through others.

If you think that’s selfish, you’re new here and you have no fucking idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.

I threw a man off his apartment balcony the other day and it hurt. I was too busy doubled over in pain to enjoy the splat has his body hit the ground and his bones snapped in unnatural positions until he looked like a towel swan.

A towel swan? Is that what they’re called. Those things that fancy hotels who try too hard do where they fold a told a towel into different shapes – usually a swan. Once, I saw a towel dolphin and that was very cool. I love seeing people take their seemingly useless skills and putting them to good use. It makes the world more interesting.

For example, I am insanely good at accents – or so my husband always said. I sometimes put on a voice when I don’t want to talk to an unruly customer. It only backfired once when I did an Australian accent and the client asked if we were from the same area. I also get to use it in my hobby because being able to disguise one’s voice is a very practical skill when committing countless murders.

And I do mean countless. I’ve actually lost track now, there’s been so much going on the past few years. I remember when I hit 500 and we might have hit 700 by now but like I said: I stopped counting probably around the time I burned my journals.

A lot has changed over the last decade. Mostly for the worse. But at least I still have a few more years before I have to seriously consider retirement. For now, if that means I have to make time for a chiropractor appointment, then that’s what I have to do.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Monday, 14 March 2022

Author C.J. Listro's Favourite Scenes from Rebellion

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the REBELLION by C.J. Listro Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway! Link in bio.


Thursday, 10 March 2022

Excerpt of Blood and Fire by Kim Mullican

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the BLOOD AND FIRE by Kim Mullican Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

Wednesday, 9 March 2022

Your Midweek Update for 03/09/22

 I didn’t sleep with Ben at all this week and here’s why I think it’s wonderful.

This idea of sleeping with someone and not killing them was feeling dangerously close to a relationship with feelings and emotions – and, as we’ve discovered recently, emotions only lead to heartbreak – so not exclusively sleeping with one person is good for me.

Even if I do end up killing most of the others.

One of them left before I came, one of them slapped me thinking it was “sexy”, and another one just smelled weird. They had to go. Especially that second one. We didn’t even finish our little interaction, I just shoved him against the open window and crushed his windpipe. He also may have been missing a hand which was not the smartest thing if I wanted to make it look like an accident but the personal satisfaction of disconnecting the hand that struck me from the man that had the audacity was worth it.

I’ve been hearing this word a lot lately – audacity. Fuck, it’s such a good word. It sounds vicious and strong. Like, if you have audacity you are a fucking nuisance and that is either an infuriating or admirable trait (3 guess which our slap-happy friend was). It is just a good word to use in everyday life, I’m glad it’s coming back.

Another word I’d love to see return: defenestrate. It didn’t go anywhere but we should definitely be using it more often. Let’s just start tossing people out of windows when they piss us off. Or just because. People need to live in fear of being flung out of windows.

Also: disembowel. Strangely I hear this word more often than defenestrate despite it being slightly more graphic – that shouldn’t actually be a surprise, I guess. My life is rather violent. Do you think there was something about me that gave him the impression that I like my sex as violent as my life?


That is another stellar word that needs to be brought back into the public lexicon. I will have to do that to the next person I kill. Make a bunch of young reporters learn the word evisceration for print and film. I’m doing it for them as much as me.

You know me: always a giver.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Tuesday, 8 March 2022

Trailer Reveal for The Lords of Invention by Trenor Rapkins

Today Trenor Rapkins and Rockstar Book Tours are revealing the trailer for THE LORDS OF INVENTION, his Steampunk Graphic Novel which released on March 10, 2021! Check out the awesome trailer and enter the giveaway!

Wednesday, 2 March 2022

Your Midweek Update for 03/02/22

 We're not going to talk about why I missed last week's update. We're not going to talk about whose bed I slept in. And we're not going to talk about the fact that I've seen him twice since then.

We're going to call him Ben. Ben works at the craft store across the street from my new office. Ben is about a decade my junior. Buck gives really good head. You know when you look at someone's face and you just know their jaw muscles are built for cunnilingus? That's Ben.

We don't do a ton of talking but I know that he's sweet and polite and even though he has a hint of a "southern hospitality vibe about him", he's never once called me "ma'am". It's a routine I could definitely get used to: work, orgasm, murder, home. 

Neither of us are looking for a relationship - he says he isn't the type of settle but I think he's just too pretentious to keep a girlfriend for more than a few months. He's like a hipster who's built like a lumberjack. The second time we had sex, he kept the beanie on. 

But you know what? I don't want to kill him. For once, I want to keep something all to myself that I get to keep for more than one night. Having that assurance than I don't have to hide our rendezvous, I can meet him out in the open and not worry about witnesses tying me to his disappearance or death. I can just relax and have a good time and get my jollies elsewhere. There's still plenty of people to murder. I've never been much of a black widow but I also haven't had a romantic partner that wasn't also my husband in nearly 15 years. 

What's the protocol when you're a serial killer and casually dating? Is it a faux pas to kill your lover or is it expected? I don't know the procedure here. It feels like there's an expectation of murder which means I'm going against the grain by keeping Ben alive. 

Fun fact: the g-spot was named for a man named Grafenburg who first identified it. Is it great that most body parts on the female body are named after men? No. Are we surprised at all? Also no.

My point is: I'm not ready to kill Ben just yet. Which means I'm just going to have to get over the social stigma of keeping my lovers alive.

Life is hard by we persevere.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 16 February 2022

Your Midweek Update for 02/16/22

I could never stomach living somewhere tropical. As much as I love being able to feel my fingers as I drive to work, I wouldn’t be nearly as satisfied with my life if I weren’t surrounded by snow.

Every time it snows, you talk about how much you love it. We get it!

Every time it snows, I’m reminded of how grateful I am that mother nature is just as murderous as I am. She must take some pleasure in the people she destroys, otherwise why would she keep doing it? Snow isn’t anywhere close to the top of kill list.

I suppose that would be one advantage to living in a warmer climate: the natural disasters. How many people could I kill in a hurricane? It would be so easy to impale them with debris or drown them in the ensuing flood. Leaving them to be taken by the storm doesn’t count towards my kill count because I wasn’t the one who made the light leave their eyes.

Tornados would be fun, too. So much chaos; and everyone hasn’t fled, they’re just in hiding. I would be free to walk around stabbing or dismembering stragglers dumb enough to be on the streets in the middle of a fucking volcano. Or I could break in to people’s homes and make it look like looters.

Killing someone when they believe they’re safe is delicious. It’s the extra layer of betrayal that’s in their expression when they realize that no matter what they did or do, they would never be safe. They trusted society to respect their safety and then I walked in and stole it. All while the world literally crumbles around them. The emotional damage inflicted on victims of home invasion is too good not to pass up.

But I like snow, too. Everything is quieter and the world hides any ugliness you leave behind. It’s calm and smooth and underneath it all, there could be anything: a broken sidewalk, a bent stop sign, a woman who just ran to the corner store for a few things and ended up bleeding out in the upper parking garage of her building, buried in snow for a whole week before anyone discovered her.

What I could do without is the inconsistency. One day it’s blizzarding, the next it’s practically summer. It makes choosing where to bury my bodies so frustrating. They could be in that snow drift for weeks, or they could be discovered by the end of the day. It depends on how much of a bitch mother nature feels like being. Next time I pick up my entire life and run away, I’m headed for the North Pole.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Wednesday, 9 February 2022

Your Midweek Update for 02/09/22

 The more space I get, the better I feel. That's not to say I'm 100% better but I'm not staying up all night, unable to think about anything but my own hurt. I'm ready to move on to hurting other people. Back to normalcy.

Besides, there's a whole new city to adjust to - new hunting grounds, new hiding spots, a whole new demographic of victims. I needed a distraction and this is the perfect one.

I've spent the past two nights just wandering around after dark (which is getting later every day), just getting to know the area. Lots of local stores that close at 6pm every night, lots of streetlights with poor upkeep, lots of uncollected trash. It's unfortunately quiet in a lot of areas so I might have to keep my kills to the hipster region just north of downtown. 

Side note: Uptown and Downtown don't really mean anything anymore - nor are they geographically accurate. But I know that I can say: the uptown kids party way too hard which makes them a very easy target for my first few months of kills. 

The risk, of course, with murdering rich people is that other people tend to care. That's problematic for a few reasons - not the least of which is that it makes my job so much harder.  

Still, it's very satisfying to cut off someone's nose knowing it was probably redone a few times since they first got it. Or to steal a purse to make it seem like their bludgeoning was a botched robbery, and just tearing it to shreds because there's no way I can actually steal their purse without getting caught.

That's the nice thing about killing middle class people: you can steal their shit and no one will notice because nobody cares. As much as it hurts me to think of how little human beings care about one another, it is also very easy to do my job when there's no one looking at the woman bleeding out in the alley. 

My entire life is about taking advantage of societies inherent biases and this is just another example of how the world is working to the benefit of a serial killer. Take that how you will.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Tuesday, 8 February 2022

Excerpt of Bluebird At My Window by H. Noah

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the BLUEBIRD AT MY WINDOW by H. Noah Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Saturday, 5 February 2022

Excerpt of Star Wars The High Republic: Midnight Horizon by Daniel Jose Older

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the STAR WARS THE HIGH REPUBLIC: MIDNIGHT HORIZON by Daniel José Older Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Wednesday, 2 February 2022

Your Midweek Update for 02/02/22

 Not that I normally would but I will not be divulging my location. I've left the city - taken Casey and just left everything behind. All of my belongings are still at the house, I sent an email to my boss telling him I would be taking an indefinite leave and if he wants to fire me, he's free to take all of the belongings in my office and burn them. 

I didn't tell James. Part of me thinks I should have but the idea of talking to him right now - even a phone call or a text - is too much. 

We're somewhere new, somewhere we've never been before, staying at an Air BnB until I can find a temporary job and a place to live. Casey's classes are back to online anyways so it doesn't really matter where we are. I haven't decided how long I'll be gone, or if I want to come back at all. Maybe we'll take off and never go home again. Or maybe we'll go back tomorrow, I don't know. I just know that I can't be there right now without my heart hurting.

I'm making the right decision, aren't I? 

Am I doing the right thing? 

It feels a little like running away but I just couldn't stay there any more. But I know that can't last. He was such a huge part of my life - he was my life - and I don't know what to do without him. 

I miss him but I hate him but I love him but he makes me sad and hurt and angry. 

I wish I could kill him.

Not out of anger just... That's usually solve my problems. But with him, I can't. 

If I loved him any less...

Yes, I read the classics, shut up. It's a phrase that feels fitting right now. If only I hadn't gotten attached. I fell for him just as hard as he fell for me and it makes it all so much harder to untangle our lives when the inevitable parting has come. 

I should have seen it coming but I won't make that mistake again. 

So I've left. Space will help me remember where my true passions are and why it's so important to have no attachments (beyond my daughter - my humanizer). Time will help me forget the life I'm leaving behind for however long I can stand it.

I am weak for him. I was weak for him.

Never again.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Tuesday, 1 February 2022

Release Day for Shadow Bound Souls by Steve Rudy

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the SHADOW BOUND SOULS by Steven Rudy Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway! Link in bio.

Excerpt of The Sun Casts No Shadow By Mark Richardson

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the THE SUN CASTS NO SHADOW by Mark Richardson Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Friday, 28 January 2022

Excerpt of Wicked Savage Wolves by Daniela Romero

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the WICKED SAVAGE WOLVES by Daniela Romero Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

Wednesday, 26 January 2022

Your Midweek Update for 01/26/22

It turns out that ‘who I am without the fantasy’ is a woman dedicated to her work. I’ve been focusing on the day-to-day, trying to build new routines. Right now, that involves waking up later than usual but fairly consistently, showing up five minutes before my shift and leaving five minutes after, turning off my phone and going for a long drive until I get tired, then going back to my motel room, drinking a glass of whisky and going to bed.

Sometimes, I’ll stop in another town – or at least neighbourhood – and kill someone. They’re not particularly memorable kills but they released just enough endorphins to get me through the next day. A stab here, a bludgeon then, I made one woman drink windshield washer fluid before tossing her over a bridge. They’re not my most creative kills but at least I’m doing something. I think that’s enough.

Why does everything I do have to be creative and memorable? Why do I want to be remembered or the best? Why can’t I just… be happy with what I have?

I mean right now, I have fuck all, but in general: am I allowed to be happy? Is that so much to ask? Can I just have one fucking week where my life doesn’t feel like it’s fucking falling apart at my feet?

Why can’t I be happy? I have my job, and my family, I’ve found my passion, I’ve felt immeasurable loss. This means I get to be happy now, right? I’ve earned it. I’ve earned some fucking peace and quiet.

I deserve it. I know I do. So what do I have to do to get it?

It’s clear that I can’t find what I need here. I need a change of scenery – a new environment with no baggage attached.

I need to take Casey and go.

I need to leave tonight.

I need to pack.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Tuesday, 25 January 2022

A Deleted Scene from Aur Child by I.S. Lee

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the AUR CHILD by I.S. Lee Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

Wednesday, 19 January 2022

Your Midweek Update for 01/19/22

I thought I saw Jason the other day.

I was picking up some groceries on my way back to the motel, and I just caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye, standing in the dairy aisle. He had that shiny hair and ratty green coat that I know he took when he left. And for a second – just a second – I thought I was seeing my boy again and I felt this panic in my chest.

What if he still resents me? What if he wants nothing to do with me? What if he screams and throws things and tells the whole world that I’m a terrible mother?

I don’t know if it would hurt more to know the truth or to never have my fears confirmed. To just sit in “plausible deniability” for the rest of my life, all the while knowing in my heart that I failed him.

More than anyone else – more than Sandra, more than Casey, more than my sister – I failed him because he doesn’t know… who I am, who we are, and he still hates me.

So, I hid.

I followed him around the grocery store for what must have been twenty minutes before I finally got a good look at his face. It wasn’t him. Of course, it wasn’t him. He promised that I would never see him again and I believe it. But I still let myself hope. I enjoyed the fantasy for a little while. That’s what this all is: this blog, my family, my life.

It’s a fantasy.

I can write whatever I want and you’ll believe it because you have to. I kill because it’s an escape from the things that are weighing me down. And my family is a strange amalgamation of people who choose to be together out of necessity. We don’t want to be together; we have to. Because being apart is so much worse.

Sandra is gone. Jason is gone. Heather is gone. My sister is gone. And now James.

I feel my fantasy slipping away from me.

I don’t know who I am without it.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Tuesday, 18 January 2022

Excerpt of Compustible by Al Riske

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the COMBUSTIBLE by Al Riske Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Monday, 17 January 2022

Release Day for Blood and Fire by Kim Mullican

I am so excited that BLOOD AND FIRE by Kim Mullican is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for a kindle courtesy of Kim, & Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, check out the giveaway info below.


Thursday, 13 January 2022

On Sex and Communication with Victoria Rogers

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the THE WITCH AND THE DREAMWALKER by Victoria Rogers Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Except of Justice at Sea by Christian Klaver

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the JUSTICE AT SEA by Christian Klaver Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Wednesday, 12 January 2022

Your Midweek Update for 01/12/22

I don’t want to talk about it.

I can’t talk about it.

Let’s talk about something fun.

Like the time I hit someone over the head with a champagne bottle and then jammed the jagged edge into their chest and tried to pull out their heart like I was separating an egg yolk.

Emphasis of tried, unfortunately. It was incredibly difficult to remove the broken bottle once I’d thrust it deep enough to hit the heart. Plus there’s all those pesky bones in the way trying “protect the major organs from damage” – annoying – so I didn’t go straight for the heart. I actually stabbed them in between their ribcage and thrust upwards.

I definitely latched on to something squishy but it just would not budge. So disappointing. Can you imagine if I’d been able to remove their still-beating heart by the jagged-edge of a bottle? It would have been so fucking cool.

It still was. When a dog-walker found them, they were draped over a fence with the glass protruding from their chest. The crime scene photos looked like a god-damned painting. James brought some home for me to see, he was so proud


It was a good kill, I was really happy with it.


I DON’T want to talk about it.

I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to feel it, I don’t want it anymore.

But I can’t not think about it.

Every time I close my eyes, I see his stupid face and I wish I could get rid of it – get rid of him – but I can’t. He’s in here – in my chest – he’s a part of me and, like every other organ, I can’t remove him.

Letting one person have so much of my heart was a mistake.

Fuck. 2022 was supposed to be a better year. Our lives were supposed to be getting back to normal.

I can’t fall asleep at night. I’m so tired when I go to work and I can barely concentrate. I need him and yet I can’t stand him. What am I supposed to do now?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Monday, 10 January 2022

Excerpt of Huntress Prey by Selene Kallan

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the HUNTRESS PREY by Selene Kallan Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Thursday, 6 January 2022

Excerpt of Once Upon Academy Volume 2

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the ONCE UPON ACADEMY VOLUME 2 Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


Wednesday, 5 January 2022

Your Midweek Update for 01/05/22

I think some of you believe I don’t have a conscience or morals. I do. I have a set of beliefs that guide my thoughts and my actions. They just might not be the same as yours. I also think that we’re not all that different.

I believe in moral particularism – that there is no one philosophy that dictate your life but, instead, you should make every decision on a case-by-case basis. I believe that you have a duty to yourself before all others. I believe that some people don’t deserve to die but death is the one true equalizer. I believe that promises should be kept – unless they harm you in some way. I believe that family and relationships are cultivated through trust and commitment. I believe that when that bond is broken, it can never quite be prepared.

I have my own set of beliefs but they are beliefs all the same.

I will lie, I will steal, I will rip a man’s eyeball out of its socket and make him eat it, but I will never cheat.

I don’t know if I could describe to you what the real difference is between lying and cheating. Both involve deception and a breaking of trust but one simply cuts deeper when something is gained from that lie. There is something worse about putting your faith in someone and seeing them throw it away.

I’m hurt.

My heart hurts.

I just want to kill something.

But I can’t kill him.

I’ve tried.

That very first night, I had a pillow millimeters from his face but couldn’t do it. We were in the kitchen and he turned his back to me and it would have been so easy to stab him but I couldn’t. I know for a fact that the tire iron in my trunk can crush a man’s skull with two hits. A few pieces of broken bone lodged in his cranium and he would be dead in about an hour. And yet when I went to grab something out of the car, I didn’t grip the iron tight enough. So many poisons I could have slipped into his coffee. So many accidents I could have caused. I want to rip his insides out, hang them on the trees like Christmas decorations, and then light his shell of a body on fire so I can toast some fucking marshmallows. But I can’t light the match.

I’m very good and killing, you know.

But I can’t kill him.

He’s the one person I want to hurt and I can’t do it.

Maybe it was a mistake to get married. It was only meant to be as a cover anyways. It was always a manipulation.

I’ve left. Not forever – Casey knows where I am so she can contact me if there’s an emergency – but just for right now. I can’t kill him but I can’t look at him, either. My image of him is tainted now and I don’t know if I even want it back.

It was a mistake.

A stupid, horrible, painful mistake.

The man who has been my partner for thirteen years and I don’t know how to look him in the eye anymore.

I don’t know what to do without him but I wish I could kill him. At least then it would be over. Because right now, all I’m doing is feeling and I can’t…

I can’t breathe from the weight of it.

I think some of you don’t think I have emotions – that I’m somehow broken and that’s why I kill people. You have no idea how much I wish you were right, dear readers. Emotions seem to be all I have left right now.

My usual sign off doesn’t seem appropriate right now.

But please do stay safe, dear readers. Stay as safe as you can.