T. Strange didn't want to learn how to read, but literacy prevailed and she hasn't stopped reading—or writing—since. She's been published since 2013, and she writes M/M romance in multiple genres, including paranormal and BDSM.
Breaking the Code
He’s a Druid. He’s trans. He’s a wealthy recluse. He’s found murdered in his own cabin. I’m talking, of course, about Emmon Bodfish.
Start from the Centre
Mrs. F was undoubtedly the worst teacher I ever had, but one of her lessons stuck with me: She taught me how to cross stitch.
Table for Two, Dinner for One
“Edward, do you realize we’ve never actually gone on a date?” I laughed. “Kit, we’re married.” He crossed his arms. “That doesn’t change the fact that we haven’t been on a date,” he pointed out. “A real date, with...with candles and tablecloths and wine!”
Twenty-Third Time’s the Charm
Let me start by saying I’m not a dog person. I am a happily catted cat-person. That being said, here’s the story of how a dog got me.
Left Hand, Write Hand
I had that dream again. You know the one. In the dream, I’m standing in the middle of a large, empty room. There’s nothing in it but a black lacquer table that’s lit from above, as though by a spotlight. On the table are two things: a small black notebook and a stack of thousand-dollar bills. Twenty of them. Every time. I know because I’ve counted. Over and over.
I can take no credit for my success. I am a mere transcriber, nothing more. The only work I do is typing the words exactly as they appear in the notebooks. I don’t know where they come from, but they’re mine now.