Memoirs of this Delusional Writer #40

Hi again people,

Wow. So I did nothing.

You see, I still have a list, the names and numbers are all written down so that I know what I’m talking about, and what needs highlighting, I just thought, maybe you’re over the full version and this might be more interesting.

And I’m sure it would be, you know, if I actually had anything to say.

I don’t.

All I have done this past fortnight is write a short story for Moonlit Wolves book6, the story highlights Craig and Phil, from book 3, and is set on an argument that happened in the story—or is shown to be there. A reason for reason and all that.

Anyway, you won’t miss it, but you might not take too high a note on it until the end when you realise I’ve written a short on it.

And I also wrote Desperate, a short sex scene which you can find here

I wrote this one after reading a book by Kim Dare (I feel it’s noted in the post) and mostly because I needed a sex scene for sat, but the back-story is interesting, the story flowing from it is intriguing me, and so I made it a WIP. If you want to see it happen sooner rather than later post a comment here, or here or on this posting and I’ll push it up the list.

Though the idea of this will have a few things change because it probably won’t start there, or actually be anything like that, since I think a big issue, among other things, will be that he’s a whore and having a shame thing added to the bitter hatred he lives in.

The sex scene is just the rambling of words inside my head, the story will be better thought out and have a lot more depth.

I plan on having writing some more on Rub of my Werewolf, by the time you’re reading this, but I highly doubt it will happen. I want to oh so fucking badly, but this book just isn’t writing at the moment (or the last 3 months) so maybe it’s time to move on a little, take a step back and write something else, maybe it will help this book form better.

Gene was not happy. He’d been stunned into silence like everyone else in the room, all fucked up in his own head and it had taken him a few moments to realise the man—his man had left him again.

Just up and fucking left!

Left, like it was the easiest thing in the world to do.

--Start of chapter 5, Rub of my Werewolf