Hello everyone! How are you all doing today? I'm (yet another) teenaged writer---a boy, btw---though I've been practicing for some odd five years now. I'm a sucker for a good romance (who isn't!?), but I also enjoy fantasy, sci-fi, and dystopias. If you've written a dystopian-romance, you bet I'm gonna read it, no matter what. 

When writing, I always---always---listen to music. And I have strange tastes too, though I tend to gravitate away from modern stuff. I'll listen to Bruckner, Marty Robbins, Elvis, and Ray Conniff all in one go.  

Uh. . . when not writing I love my dog, I work on school, and I enjoy tennis, skiing, and baking. Not very original. Oh well. What can I say? If you read all the way through my book-in-progress---Remembrance---I'll bake you a tarte. 

No, actually. Stop reading this, and read that! It's way more interesting. 

Anyway. I hope you enjoy reading my book. I'd love to hear what you think, or for you to reach out to me. Tell me about yourself! I'm always down for a nice chat.

Because I have more space, here's the beginning of Remembrance. Yayy!! 

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Of all the times I've been shot, this one hurts the most.

I gently press several fingers to the wound in my right shoulder and shake my head-though I'm more annoyed at the music than I am at the injury. 
The noise-a low hum filled with deep thumps and the whine of some electric whistle-vibrates through my body, shuddering past my bones and ringing in my ears. It pounds hard on my chest, and feels. . . kinda like getting smashed in the ribs by a steel-toe boot.

Muted green lights pulse along with the music, casting bright flashes over select areas of the club. A thick smoke wafts through the air, and the scent hits me like a brick wall. It smells sweet-unnaturally sweet-almost like someone just opened a colossal can of sugar peaches.

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Click on the book to read more!