I like to say that I write mezzofiction. What’s real? What’s imaginary? Who can say?  For certain, there’s no HEA, no romance here, unless you’re in love with a foul mouth, complex psyches, and UBC (Under the Best of Circumstances).

Sometimes there’s magick, spirituality, dreamscapes, and intercultured, intersexed genderqueer, but always expect blurred lines, abiding passion, and the unexpected undoing. If it lurks on the edge and craves wholeness, sensuality, affection, and shadows, it’s in my worlds, all through my words.

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