Hurt comes in all different forms, times, places and the depth of it varies. For me the way I feel right now, it is the depth of the pain I feel.
That depth goes into my being, it suffocates me from the inside out. It clings to my soul. How did it all come to this, how did my life become so complicated when all I ever wanted was for it to be one of peace. Easy.
I have sat at this window many times before, staring into the distance. Once upon a time, on the days like these, all I wanted to do was sit here, my mind clouded in thoughts of one man, as that said man watched me from the lone seat while he savored his bourbon, sip by sip.
Only today, it is tainted. The rain washes away the remnants of the morning, a mirror to my angry out lash.
“Are you sure?” I ask him.
He is behind me, I know because of his reflection in the glass. His hands in his pocket, forever the refined man. Sabastian was groomed to be an imposing force before he was even born. It runs in his genes, his blood. He will never be any other way, but the man who will hold your world up with just his determination, and bring it crashing down with his will. He will weaken you, and rebuild you until all you see, need and want is him. You can’t deny it, I can’t deny him.
“Yes, the test was negative.” He says, and the relief in my shoulders is nothing compared to the one in my heart.
A month ago, Sabastian had sex with my friend, Victoria Stone. He came clean to me a few days ago. It was then we finally had out talk. We put an end to our silence and a beginning to something more.
Victoria’s pregnancy was the one thing that caused a problem between the two of us. He would have to be there if she was pregnant and I would have to come to terms with how I feel about it. How he felt about Reagan and I.
Reagan, who I haven’t said a word to this last month, besides that we were done. I didn’t even apologize.
School Me S4 is off with a bang. Dainy and Sabastian still have a killer to catch and much more on the final Season of School Me.
It’s been two weeks since my dad became the prime suspect in the Gina Lorne’s case. One week since I’ve seen Sabastian.
We spent the day together after my dad made bail. I enjoyed it as one would pleasurable chaos.
sharing glances of heated history,
while quietening with still very open wounds and it all felt natural.
But I didn’t forget, I didn’t drop my shields I had built around myself ,
a protection against my curse, a protection against Sebastian Delroy and his binding touch.
Sabastian dropped me at home that same day, and it was three days after that when I saw him again.
It was the day him, Jace Stone and my brother finally moved into the monstrosity across the road from my house.
As a good sister and friend I offered to help him unpack. We didn’t finish until late the next morning. It was four days after that when the schools communications app sent out messages of the house party Jace was throwing.
Jace was Reagan’s cousin so I wasn’t surprised my boyfriend insisted we go and it was definitely a party to remember.
Sabastian spent that night hounded by beautiful women and eventually left to his room with Ashley Herne. I can’t say I was okay with that but I didn’t really get a choice in the matter.
To Sabastian, I was the biggest fraud, I was sleeping with his friend. Recently I wasn’t sure how much of friends Reagan and Sabastian actually were.
Watching him go to his room with Ashley ripped my heart but also angered me, stealing something away from me, knowing that he was upstairs touching another girl.
It took everything in me to not run upstairs and disrupt them. However, it was a firm reminder that Sabastian wasn’t mine.
As for Reagan and I? There is a common phrase , hurt me with the truth, never comfort me with a lie. It seems to be a constant reminder of failures in my relationship with Reagan.
Every morning I look at him , every morning I smile a lie of deceitful intent. I used to crave just having his hands on me, but even that too has become tainted.
I don’t hate lying and as many would convince themselves they do I would not, because lying will eventually be the strongest tool I have once Reagan finds out about my involvement with his dead mother.
I do however despise the idea of doing it to protect myself against my own boyfriend. The same boyfriend that brings me cherries every morning. The guy that whispers delicious sensual promises in my ear at night.
There are mornings when I wake up and ask myself will today be the day that Reagan finds out the truth. I’m not going to make it easy for him if he does.
Reagan can’t just leave me.
I have wanted Reagan Orniel since I started liking boys. I loved the guy. He was my neighbor, my friend and now finally he is my lover.
It isn’t the first time I think that, does my heart and mind go to war.
My heart always beats faster, harder when Sabastian is around, or he crosses my mind.
But my mind , my mind warns me of his hurt, of the pain and power he wielded over me.
My mind cautions me of the moment he destroyed me without even a shred of guilt, he didn’t even have to face me, touch me.
“Dainy, Get your ass down here now, we gotta move bitch.” That Southern belle voice perks me up, and brings my mood to a high.
I’m just sitting on my bed and staring at the blank, blackened screen of my phone.
My denim shorts pulled up to the top of my thighs. My white vest blocked by the fan of my open blonde hair.
Upon hearing that voice I am off my bed and rushing out the door in less than a minute.
My feet take the stairs two at a time and right there by the end of the staircase dressed in tight hip hugging black denims , boots, and a body every woman envies and every man dreams about is Kylie fucking Bray.
We hug each other, and it isn’t new to me that my face goes right to breasts.
“Are we living or dying? You said eleven it’s nine.” I take a step away from her embrace giving her eyes my own.
Since the night Reagan went missing Kylie and I have become closer friends. At first I found it weird she was calling me up, I mean she is a Bray, and it’s Kylie,
She is a legend what would she want with me.
But I soon learnt that she just wanted to be friends. This weekend would be the first one I spend at her place in Washington, it is why she’s currently standing in my house and my bags are packed by the door.
Many men have fallen in the face of grace, many women wallowing under the scrutiny of pride. For me it was not grace that caused my fall, it was the hero complex.
The masculine curse to do the right thing. Self sacrifice as some call it. A laugh bubbles up in my mind at how stupid it sounds. With it a deep fire of hatred burning me from the inside, reminding me.
I left Liston Hills , I left Dainy and all my friends behind for one thing, one reason. I was protecting them. I was protecting her most of all.
Now look at me, I have lost more than I bargained. My Vixen is still out of reach, hurting me, pushing the blade deeper until I have nothing left but hatred, yet I still protect her.
These past few weeks I have taken more females to my bed than I had in the past year. I look at myself in the mirror wondering if I am the beginnings of a monster.
I am capable of murder, I am capable of hatred and revenge. And everyday, a longer wait for my Vixen is everyday my heart freezes , closes.
I stare out the window of the third floor of The Delroy Mansion watching Dainy jump into the Jet, but my eyes don’t pause on her as they normally do. My eyes go to the jaded one, that was once like me, Kylie Bray.
She once loved, not long ago and now look at her. She smiles when she feels the need to, does as she has to, but behind it all she is as hard as a steel volt.
I saw Kylie a few weeks back, with Dainy, Jace and Dexter. I barely recognized the Bray heiress.
Her eyes that once flickered with youth, love, passion and a drive for life ,were dim, dying a painful excruciating death.
I saw Kylie again this morning when she landed upon my request to get Dainy away from here for the weekend. She didn’t give me any of her false pretenses, she kept for some people. She let me see the death in her eyes, the monster she was slowly becoming.
I wasn’t surprised, because my father and many of our fathers have that same look. We are born in money , but we are cursed in love. People like us aren’t happy. We are too greedy.
Lies, become more lies, murder becomes a natural part of life and the secrets, the secrets pile up. They eat away at our soul. Until we are nothing but a shell of hard shield.
Honed to keep moving, driven to succeed. And no matter who, or what stands in our way we are taught that there is no other way but to remove the obstacles.
That is the end for today. Stay tuned tomorrow. Same time. Same Place. And Welcome to All our New Liston Hiller’s
To those of you who are new, if you want the story to go a certain way, drop those comments or email me on shanRk@zoho.com
Well, while I was reading Beauty’s Breath, because it is getting released tomorrow, I had this feeling of so much emotion clogging me.
PHEW. So, with all my dramatics I cried horribly. My daughter was looking at me weird. I told her I was reading and she started laughing and said, “Oh mama.”
So long story short, the book is a great book. I am happier with this piece of work than I was with River’s Keeper. The story has you wanting to pull out your hair at times. Which is funny because I wrote it. But I have always wrote stuff for my own enjoyment so I find it easy to forget that I wrote a book and read it.
I am getting off track again, sorry guys. When reading Zero and Beggar’s fight scene it hit me. Killer’s Story.
So I wrote a small piece and It isn’t much but I want to share it with you guys.
“Baby girl you breaking my heart.”
“Kevin, don’t please, I just, I can’t.” Words don’t come easy when a heart is breaking, it gets harder when the only one who can mend it chooses not to.
“I thought I will never find a woman who made me feel, but baby girl, I love you. You are it for me Sienna. You were never the one I wanted, but you are the only one I will ever want again.”
“I know baby, I feel you too.”
So that is it so far. But I see awesome things coming to the Satan Snipers. I want to spice things up. Killer is also going to get a two or three part story. Then my hope is to write Rivers and Hannah’s story. So more on that soon. Don’t forget to stay awesome. Email me on shanRk@zoho.com and let me know what you people think
Hello everyone and a Happy New Year to all of you.
It has been a while since I last blogged about anything really.
The truth is, I have wrote, and deleted at least a thousand words explaining to why this is the case. Truth? I didn’t know how to tell almost three thousand people why I have been slacking (I use the word slacking with great emphasis) with all major parts in my life.
I do not believe in the thrill or joy a New Year brings, but I do believe in taking a new turn in life, changing your path.
I believe that when you hit your rock bottom you have to admit your faults and your discrepancies to yourself first. Then you have to apologize to everyone else.
So without further a due. Let me try this again .
I AM SORRY FOR MY LACK OF PROFESSIONALISM. I AM SORRY FOR NOT DELIVERING THE STUFF I INTENDED TO DELIVER. I APOLOGIZE FOR LETTING MY PERSONAL ISSUES GET IN THE WAY OF MY DREAM AND THIS VISION WE WERE CREATING TOGETHER. I AM MOST IMPORTANTLY SORRY FOR LETTING YOU DOWN.
I have no excuses and I am not going to make any. I started writing four years ago and on March 25th I will be a Self Published Author for three of those years.
Writing is everything to me, which to many reading this sounds sad but it is not sad to me.
I fell a long time ago, my life has never been a normal one (lightly speaking). I had a lot of challenges like many of you. But I blocked it out because I didn’t want my past, or where I came from to define me.
I want to define myself.
People like to believe that your past plays a role in your life, and it does to an extent. That extent is your choosing. I have seen people that come from the worst places you can imagine filled with drugs and prostitution, who made choices that were hard, and difficult so that they don’t amount to what society thinks. It amazed me then and still amazes me now. It gives the world hope for change if you just open your eyes and see. Stop just looking, start taking it all in. Understand, learn, and become who you are meant to be.
I was still realizing these things, learning so much, and I got lost along my path of discovery.
Not many of you know this, but my ex husband was the one who got me to sit down on his desk chair and put the laptop in front of me. He said write, just write your stories down. (He is definitely reading this and smiling)
Coming from a surgeon I was shocked, but for all his faults he is a wise man so I DID. And with writing books and losing myself in words I became whole for those moments.
I started to reevaluate my life, teaching myself something I didn’t know I could even do. I used to write from three in the morning ’till ten or eleven at night. I was writing a story about demons and angels, Lightwatchers and Asgaurdians, but I was also living in that world.
For those hours I was a girl with the world counting on her to defeat Hell. What I didn’t realize is subconsciously I was learning to breathe. I was finding me. The battle was really with myself, my own demons, my own sins, and mistakes all tumbled up into a kick ass story.
My book flunked when I finally published it (In case you wondering), but I made a box of copies and handed it out to a few people. They said it was brilliant and that was good enough for me, because you see, writing a story to me, is not for the praise, or the glory or fame.
Writing to me is telling you a story, is opening myself up to you, the reader. I am sharing all those hours I put into that book with you. It is an invitation to a whole new world. I am screaming in my words, yelling at you, calling you to just read me. Whether you enjoyed the book it is up to you, the reader.
I am the one who wrote it, so of course I loved it, for every word written and every scene played is all in my mind and now on paper. I like to think of it as this- My books are from my brain, so when you review me, you should ask yourself did you like my brain. (it sounds stupid, but it is something to mule over)
So after that book, House of Legions, I decided to write another book. This one many of you know, it is called Beggar, obviously the book sold A LOT of copies and it set off a chain of events- the blog, website, my first failed attempt on facebook.
I also grew as a person, started looking at the world through other peoples eyes. Trying to understand characters, what makes up a persons persona. I read a lot, traveled, got divorced.
Then I lost it all and at the time I felt low, lonely and I was just writing really dark stuff. Sometimes my hands would start to shake so I did what any author should not. I became a ghost writer, started writing scenes under another name. I joined one of the researching companies, did some research, then joined a publishing magazine. I started handing in my poetry, also under a different name (they published seven of them, crazy right?).
I started posting poetry on Instagram, then published my own poetry book, (that flunked badly) I didn’t care that it did. But while doing all of this, I slowly started to discover someone I never knew (myself).
Years ago I was a simple woman who never had the desire to have friends, who didn’t see the importance of family besides my little girl. It took me the year of 2018 to discover that I am human. I feel emotion, I like having friends and I love my family.
I connected with people, some in my life for a seasonal smile, others in my life for a reason to smile.
I learned a lot in 2018, I even learned the stress of being a single mother with no job and a kid who still smiles when you say no. And that people might be nice to you, but they are not always your friends. I learned that we meet people in our lives for different reasons, not all of them are good ones.
I experienced tears of joy. The heaviness of great loss. An untold agony of hurt. To many of you, this is your life, it is life. Trials and errors. For me, I feel that I have only started paving my own life. From a sheltered girl in a small town to the woman I am today I am proud of who I am.
Everyday it gets easier to understand the one who stares back at me from my bathroom mirror. I am no more lost because I have found my place and writing stories, sharing words with all of you is part of that place I call home.
So I want to start again.
My name is Shan R.K and I am an Author and blogger. I have a beautiful and intelligent daughter that talks at least 3000 words an hour on a quiet day.
I am a reading addict, so much so that I have mastered the art of cooking and reading to the T.
I have never been on a live podcast or video because I always chicken out. I am convinced I have a bad voice.
My mother is crazy, who loves to control everybody ( at least she tries) that I love.
My dad is scary on most days but he can crack a joke better than most comedians and dance worst than a chicken with no legs. (Sorry dad)
I hate cooking, but I am really good at it, especially 20 minute meals, which I tend to do a lot of.
Most of the time the stuff that comes out of my mouth is mostly book related. I have a dog that lives with my ex husband. His name is Falcor (yes, like never ending story), he is born on April 9th just like me.
I have a secret desire to be a vigilante and save the world (I am keeping that one for the books).
I am a terrible driver. I have written my learners like four times and still no licence (sucks a lot at times, nay for me, and yay for Uber).
Most nights I have insomnia so I tend to write a lot of stuff that I will never publish because you guys would think I am seriously a nutjob. But sometimes my mind just comes up with these crazy stories and I have to put it down to paper.
My favorite color is red on most days except when I am hormonal, then it is black because it is all I want to wear.
No matter how hot it is I still sleep with a blanket. I have this crazy idea in my head that if I don’t I will get old quickly, (I said Crazy)
And from right now, I promise to fulfill my promise to all of you and give you guys the best books you have ever read and continue my blog with the Liston Hills Series. This year 2019 I am going to take my life lessons, and break my own record.
I feel it is going to be a fulfilling year. I am going to go live soon on Instagram and overcome my fear of ‘live’ social media.
It is going to be an eye opener for me and the ones who watch. We are going to need a lot of coffee once I start that.
Thank you guys for reading this. I think this is the most I have ever spoken about myself in one sitting but I believe time is wasting so it is best to just put it all out there. Move on. Forward.
Tomorrow I will post the release dates of the books and start prepping for Liston Hills which will be returning February 4th.
Poster and trailers will be going up soon.
What I want to do is open comments on the blog and really bring you all together. So let me know what you guys think and if you have any suggestions please do let me know. I love people with a voice.
A HUGE WELCOME TO ALL THE NEW AWESOME PEOPLE WHO HAVE JOINED OUR BLOG FAMILY 😊🤗
So it took a while….. That seems like the way to start a sentence🤔 with a loaded story.
But I am going to cut this story and say I made some bed decisions and let’t just say Beauty’s Breath was not ready when I said.
I promised myself that infuture when I am setting a release date, I will give a bit of leeway and take into account the bitter parts of messing up when your book is due for publishing.
A big apology to everyone who had to wait and to all of you, the subscribers for not posting these last weeks.
I have finally completed the editing of Beauty’s Breath and had to do it myself, so be lenient, I am a writer not an editor. 😊
Beauty’s Breath was really good to write, it was emotionally charged at times, it is a bit funny, lots of Club stuff with the Satan Snipers looking for the killer.
😨SPOILER ALERT: There is a big twist in the story, and the killer is not who you think it is…. A new romance blossoms between two unlikely club members and there is a new guy from the Houston Chapter.😊
So according to the schedule I set, on Monday next week I will post the Synopsis and the first three CHAPTERS will follow on Tuesday 😊 with a few teasers.
If you want to see some teasers then follow my instagram page on shanrk1
And finally the release date will be next week Friday (7thSeptember2018) 😊
Mark it on your calendar😊.
And you know what else? It is my 10th Book Published so I am going to be giving prizes next week and the following week.😊
So stay tuned to the blog and watch for my emails and you might just be a winner😊
I will be posting about the journey writing Beggar and Zero’s story, some pics and maybe a small video (i am thinking about that) and the deleted scenes(there are a lot of those)
In Beauty’s Breath at the back I will be post a small part from Marco and Aliyana’s story which is the next book I am publishing called Capo dei Capi (Boss of all Bosses) the first book in The Famiglia series)
If you have read Kylie Bray then you would know who they are. If not, then Marco is Deno’s older brother and the main head of the Italian Mafia Crime family in New York.
They are the family of Beggar.
So if you like Suspense Thrillers with a romantic edge to it then give it a read. 😊
ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND AND REMEMBER THAT YOUR HAPPINESS IS THE GREATEST JOY YOU WILL EVER FEEL AND THAT IS WHAT MAKES LOVING YOURSELF THE GREATEST ACHIEVEMENT YOU WILL ACHIEVE.
So it has been a while since I have posted anything about anything really.
Writing my books have taken up all my time(sorry). I have started this blog post and stopped over a thousand times over (I am exaggerating maybe it was close to 50), but sometimes my words just don’t come out like they should(perks of a human being).
I have read through the past three seasons and see we have come along way from School Me Part 1.
But for all of you wondering – School Me Part 4 will be returning on November 1st, 2018.
I will do a recap of the previous 3 parts before that and put up some teasers and adverts.
The previous 3 seasons are over, in season 1 we had our introduction, in season 2 we had our storyline taking off, and season 3 we reached our climax and the fourth season will be the conclusion of book One which is going to be titled and published as School Me Sabastian. Next year we will commence with the Liston Hills series Book 2 Study Me.
School Me part 4 will have 60 pages over a course of three months and will be available straight on your emails (No Spam).
It has been almost two years since I have started the blog and from 30 people we have now increased to 2400 people and counting which is amazing.
Previously many of you have been asked to post suggestions on my website, but from November you guys may post comments on the blog as well as email me.
Last year was a very difficult year for me as I had a lot of personal issues going on and I was unable to blog all the time.
I am happy to say that this season we will not experience those issues.
I will also be blogging more about other topics from now until November.
As well as some advice on writing. I have been reading some authors blogs pertaining to ‘their advice about publishing and writing books’ and while many are really informative I find a lot of them discourage New Authors.
I am a firm believer of optimism as well as results(More on that next week).
Back to School Me News, I was thinking about making a youtube video trailer for School Me and I am keen on hearing all your opinions.
So do let me know what you think. I am always interested in your ideas and suggestions.
A warm welcome to all our new subscribers and a big thank you everyone else for sticking around and reading Liston Hills (School Me) and actually taking time to send me lenthy emails. You are Amazing and I couldn’t have asked for a more loyal Group of people. So thank you all
Rage is said to come in blindfolded in a moment when one loses their ability to logic. As Sabastian stands in front of me, hands in his pocket I feel the rage, I feel my logic and sense of control slip.
My eyes must narrow, my body lunges forward as my fist meets his face. The pain is a welcoming agony as it shoot up my hand to my wrist. Sabastian doesn’t go down from my glorified punch, he retaliates with a fist to my gut, knocking the wind out of me, as I mimic his motion, and knee him in his stomach. He hunches and coughs and I go for a upper cut to his chin which he ducks and punches me solid in my sternum.
I tackle him to the floor and we are both going at it. Fist after fist, the copper taste in my mouth, swelling on my jaw, thumping in my head is a mind pleaser as Sabastian goes down and lays on the floor staring up at the sky, I follow suit. We are both quiet. Our rage not lessened by our fists but caged by our mind.
Neither of us can say anything, the truth is out there now, it is part of us. When I see Dainy tomorrow it will be a constant roar in my mind. Sabastian Delroy, a close friend is in love with my girl, he considers her his. And even I can’t deny that the thought of him being right isn’t crushing me, it isn’t masking my love in dread. Dainy was his.
“Out of all the shit we have gotten through, a girl is what it comes down to.” Sabastian groans after he says this.
The sky is dark, the faint noise of music and peoples voices drift through the air, “I love her too.” I tell him, and though I have never admitted the words to Dainy or hinted at it , I am honest when I admit it to him.
“Yeah, I know.” We both quieten, laying there on the hard ground where we once shared an easy laugh and an even easier silence. Now, what were we.
Comments and suggestions can be sent to email@example.com
Lizzy “Yes, I would shake your hand but as you can see.” He tilts his head referring to his look alike that has her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
“Is she your sister?” It’s the dumbest question I could ask. Come on, they are practically identical, same green eyes, same blond hair, same complexion even their face is shaped a like except hers is much younger. But point made, dumb question. He doesn’t answer me, he does however take a step away from the door to allow me to step inside.
When I do, it is like I am taken back to the 1600’s. I feel like I am under dressed with my ripped jeans and DavidHarley sweat shirt I am wearing. Not to mention my old sneakers that has well passed seen its expiration date. I can’t throw them out, I should but my dad got it for me two years ago. And if he was alive I would’ve tossed them out but now he so not alive.
“Would you like something to drink? Or better yet let’s just go sit in the kitchen.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond as he walks effortlessly with the giggling little girl still attached to him down a long and wide wooden floored passage way. I rush behind him, my sling leather bag hitting my thigh as I do so. We round another corner going down a long corridor before we make a right and pass down the photo room filled with probably thousands of photos framed on the wall. We take a few steps down then turn left.
“This place is like me a maze.” The awe in my voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Dexter who chuckles and takes another right in front of me.
“It’s fun, Decky needs exercise. “ She giggles after she’s done talking and I don’t stop the big goofy grin on my face from making an appearance as we finally make it to the kitchen which is something from the movies, dark oak doors, silver fridges, dark oak counters with a tinge of white here and there, “Wow, this place is nice.”
Dexter slip his sister off his shoulder and she instantly runs to the freezer on the other end of the kitchen and pulls out a tub of ice cream.
Comments and suggestions can be sent to shanRk@zoho.com and firstname.lastname@example.org 😎 Happy Friday to everybody.