"I'm not so sure about this," I commented as Patrick descended the steps of the Kings Row PYRC to greet me.

"I was nervous my first few meetings also, Jason, but you're doing a great service," he assured me as we shook hands.

"Yeah," I breathed, looking at the front doors like the gates of the Zig in Bricks.

"The Paragon Youth Recreation Center Outreach Programs are the last safe place our kids have before they end up on the streets." Patrick put his hand on my shoulder as we started up the steps.

"Yeah," I said again, with no more enthusiasm than before.

Patrick raised an eyebrow at me as we got to the doors.

I shrugged. "I don't know what kind of example I am, you know? I did time on the streets, I was in the gangs, I did shit I'm not proud of." I took a breath. "And I'm not so sure I'm any better a person now than I was then."

395 / 50,000

Yes, I know this is madness! 
*runs off, screaming and rending my hair, to write some more!*

I've already done two NaNo Novels in the past 2 years, so I really don't feel like I need to prove that I can complete yet another "new story".  Instead, I'm going to use my month to finish or continue in process works.  I may possibly start some new stuff, but I have so many series and stories that need to be moved along that I don't feel compelled to add more to the "in process" pile.

Following mallie_kite's example, I'm going to list out how I'm approaching this nano.

1) TorchSong: I only have 3-5 more chapters to go before this novel is done... maybe 25,000 words tops. This is my EPIC... Robert Jordan has nothing on me when it comes to verbosity! At present that little tale is over 200,000 words and climbing!

2) Awakenings: I have so many edits and additions to do to my most recent fan-fiction that I just have to put a few more chapters out.  Hell, there isn't any SEX until like chapter 8... and I've only posted the first 5!  My readers must really think I'm slacking off at this point! *snort*

3) Life Light: One of my few collaborative efforts. My co-author intends to give me back chapters to continue on our novel... if she does, then I'll do my best to get something back to her before the end of the month.

4) the Conquered: I haven't posted a new chapter on this epic collaboration, continuing series story, since early this year (February I think). It is time for another installment!

If those four little projects don't net me at least 50,000 words, I'll start on my erotic-horror short story I plan to submit for an gay-horror anthology.

I looked in the mirror as the last of my fire receded from my face and smiled; it was a tired smile, but my eyes looked bright and alert. "There," I declared, turning around for inspection. "How do I look?"

Pars turned away from his mirror and leaned in to examine my efforts. He scrutinized my face, coming ever closer until his lips brushed mine. "Beautiful," he murmured as he pulled back.

Best intentions aside, I didn't take well to being imprisoned in my own apartment. School, training, home, study, eat, sleep, repeat, that was the cycle of my life; if you could call that living. By the end of the first week I was going nuts. I found myself on the balcony, early Friday evening, staring longingly at the city. I watched people walking along the streets, hurrying mostly, on their way to get somewhere before dark. Behind me, the door slid open and Urioch stepped out onto the balcony.

"Would you like to do something tonight, Jason?" He rested his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

Well, Duh! Hello! Of course I would. I could think of a million things I wanted to do. At least I could until the muscle bound elf decided to ask. What was it about being asked a question that made me clam up? The question I hated the most was, What do you want? I could never answer that one. I pulled my gaze from the streets and shrugged. "Can't go out after dark."

The broken brick wall was not the most comfortable thing to sit on, but it was solid and gave me a good view of the training area. Exhausted wasn't a strong enough word to describe how I felt. Urioch had expressed his concern about my overtaxing myself since the construction site disaster. He'd expressed his concern every night, without fail. He meant well, but living with a know-it-all, who usually did know it all, was annoying. I was a big boy. I could take care of myself. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I tried to catch my breath, and eyed Blaize as he leaned against the wall near to me.

"How the headaches?" Blaize asked, grinning at me, knowing full well I wouldn't tell him the truth.

"Not bad," I mumbled, wishing I had taken two Aleve at breakfast instead of one.

**Second Chances has been Published**

The revised and edited version of my short story, Second Chances is a part of Coming Together, Vol.3, available from Charleswater Press and FictionWise.

Please support small press and independent writers and buy a copy.

The two prior volumes of Coming Together are also worth reading, and are available from CharlesWater Press (Volume 1, Volume 2) and Fiction Wise ( Volume 1, Volume 2).

First day of college was a breeze compared to the first day of Paranormal Parole Training Neither were like my first day in the gang. In a lot of ways, induction into the Skulls had felt more like salvation than anything else. Killer hadn't tried to convince me that he was the boss, or that the smartest path was to follow him. I'd just known it. Just like I knew that if I fucked up in PPP, my life wouldn't be worth living. Simply because I knew it didn't mean my Parole Officer wouldn't remind me.

"Huge." That was all I could think as I stared at the behemoth standing at the front of the room. . I wasn't sure which was larger, the man standing nearly eight feet tall and possibly five or six feet wide at the shoulders, or his reputation on the streets. I'd never thought, in my wildest dreams or worst nightmares, I would be face to face with Back Alley Brawler. My fellow classmates, all five of them, were similarly awed, save for the big guy in the back.

***** Sebastian *****

I walked into our apartment with my briefcase in one hand as I tried to jiggle the keys out of the lock while holding my cell phone to my ear. "Si, Mama."

"Sebastian, you need to call me after you talk to Donito. Let me know what he thinks."

I groaned silently in my mind. Great. One more wedding detail. "I will, Mama."

"Call soon, Sebastian."

"Si, Mama. Te quiero."

I scrutinized my reflection again, jutting my chin forward while I ran my thumb along my jaw. Shaving used to be easy. I never had a problem with getting a smooth, clean shave when I had a dark, maturing beard. Since I woke up in the hospital, I'd skipped maturing and gone straight to ancient. White. My hair was Santa-esque and I wasn't even twenty yet. Grumbling as I found a few nearly invisible missed whiskers; I picked up the disposable razor and scraped them away. My face looked like I'd run it through a sand blaster. I'd probably taken off more skin than hair.

Though exhausted from the research with Pars, the conversation with his mother, and giving him vigorously of my need, I could not sleep. Something pulled me from the comfortable warmth and soft serenades of sleeping in Pars's arms. Thrice now I awoke, as if expecting something or someone to be standing over us. Though no one stood at our bed, I could feel a presence; it was someone who could not possibly be in our rooms. I rolled from Pars's embrace, grabbing my hearthstone as I sat up.

Pars jerked awake at my sudden moment, sitting up moments after I had. "Janel?"

I put up my hand to quiet him. The glow at the far side of the room was barely visible to my natural eyes, but in my mind the purple and silver was bright as a bonfire. "Mother..."

I caught one last odd glance from the stable hand at Pars before we walked beyond the stables toward the tower gates. "You would think that working at the tower of mysteries would have made the unusual less surprising to the people here."

"This isn't going to work," Pars commented dryly. "You're taking chances you shouldn't Janel."

"Oh yea of little faith," I chided, my determination outweighing my concerns. Pars had been barred from the tower libraries since he was a child; I planned to rectify that situation.

"Suit yourself," he sighed, shrugging.

"You think simply because your mother couldn't get you access as a child, that I can't grant you access as a man?" I asked as we ascended the steps.

"Wouldn't," Pars corrected.

"Couldn't," I insisted, "or at least that is what Iramali tells me. Her's is the Path of Law, Pars; she is of the Order of Titalyr. You can't expect her to break rules when she herself is charged to enforce them."

Pars stopped. "How do you know all that?"

"I do not care what he would have done," Pars bellowed as I ascended the stairs. "It is not his husbanding; it is mine!" The door slammed below me and I watched Pars storm from Iragalys's office at a most determined pace, crossing the entry hall for the gardens.

"Pars!" Iragalys threw open the door and stormed from her office, but her son did not heed her. She lifted her hands and looked up, appealing to Goddess for a moment, before returning to her office.

I reversed my course, and returned to the main floor. I crossed the entry hall and knocked upon the office door. "Lady Iragalys?"

After a moment, the door opened. "Yes, Janel?"

"May I have a moment?"

I looked up as Pars strode into the clearing. "There you are," he sighed in relief as he walked to me. "Why did you not tell me when you returned?"

I shrugged, and looked back at the fountain, my fingers making small ripples as I swirled them in the water. "I needed time to think."

"How did your research go?"

"Frustrating, but I have already sent off inquiries about my uncle," I sighed.

Pars studied me for a moment. "That is not what bothers you."

I shrugged. "It is a mystery, but one I will face when the light shines upon it."

"What disturbs you, Janel," he asked, pushing my forelock back.

I couldn't bring myself to look at him, or his reflection in the pool. "Manhood."

Pars sat down on the fountain wall, and took my hand, his thumb making small, soothing strokes along the back of my hand. "What's wrong?"

On odd occassions I get asked , "What happened to the other stories you're writing?"

I would think the answer was obvious, but the question comes up often enough that apparently the answer isn't obvious.

If I am not presently posting a story, then it means I'm not presently working on that story.

If the story had an ending chapter, then it is done. (don't expect any more)

No, none of my incomplete works have been abandoned; they are simply not being written at present. (that means you are not invited to pick the story up and write your own continuations of it.)

As of this posting, the stories that are in process but not presently being worked on are:

• All of the X-Universe Fan Fiction
• Ministries of Change
• Awakenings
• Conquered
• Colors of the Heart
• Life Light

If you are looking for any of those stories, just keep checking in about every month. Eventually, I'll cycle back around to them.

Thank you for your interest in my writing.  If my present story is not to your liking, just wait, I'll be posting something different when the muse strikes.

ABG

I woke to the most uncomfortable and urgent need to urinate. I slid from Pars's arms and hurried to the bathroom to relieve myself. I lifted my dress, hoping for blessed relief and realized something was amiss. My manhood ached, not only ached but throbbed, and stood rigid against me in the most disconcerting way. If it wasn't so uncomfortable, I'd have been fascinated. Instead, I puzzled over how I could aim my stream when I could not even press the solid flesh down past the midline.

My bladder was most insistent, but I could find no avenue of relief. After several minutes of various attempts, even bending over the toilet and aiming with no flow, I realized I needed help. I returned to the bedroom and roused Pars.

"I have a problem."

"I must confess that I know very little about hearthstone foundations." Pars followed me into Tea Leaves with an uneven smile upon his face. "It might be more sensible to accept my mother's aid."

"Your mother has more pressing matters to deal with than the foundational needs of one unusual stone belonging to a most peculiar torch bearer," I replied with a wry smile before Bendalin came up to us. "Table for two, Ben."

He smiled. "I am happy to finally see the two of you together," Ben commented as he led us to a small table. "Betrothed couples should enjoy their status as much as they can; especially when the matrimonial will be of the importance of yours."

Pars raised an eyebrow at me when I held the chair for him. He was far too used to always being the attendant half of this couple. If my role was real, or at least no longer a complete falsehood, it was time he reaped what benefits he could from that change of status. I had months of neglect to make up for.

Mistress Geola looked me over as we stepped into her shop. "You must be Mistress Janel."

I nodded. "Should I be fearful of the reputation that precedes me?"

To my relief, Geola laughed. "Other than you are a most inconvenient blessing upon the Maldren household, Mistress, I have heard nothing else about you. You will simply have to fend for yourself as far as your reputation is concerned." She gestured to the small rise at the center of the room. "Up." I liked her already.