Rejected For Content 6: Decency Defiled Out Now!

It has arrived….my story “Decency Defiled” is now available on Amazon Kindle and paperback! I can’t be more excited about it!! Link is here https://www.amazon.com/dp/1977941915/ Enjoy!! 😊51Y9dP7U1yL._SY400_

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Rejected For Content: Decency Defiled

rfc6

I’m pleased to announce that my story “Decency Defiled” has been featured in a pretty popular series called Rejected For Content Vol. 6! I’m super excited to share this story with everyone and couldn’t be more excited to be among some awesome writers also. I will announce more details soon in terms of purchasing the book. Thank you guys so much for your support! Now off to writing more stories with cup of coffee #3 in the late afternoon..don’t judge me.

Perfection

With most mornings starting with coffee, Erica started hers with shots of tequila, a gallon of ice cream, and six cheeseburgers. There was no time to waste, she wanted to achieve her goal no matter what the cost was.  Afterwards in the mirror, she would see the look of overindulgence, gluttony, and disgust. With no time to ingest, her smooth fingers went down her throat in an attempt to get the look she had always wanted. As warm bile and blood escaped from her lips, eventually oozing from her nostrils and watering up her eyes, she quickly felt a slight sharp pain in her chest. If I could only lose ten more pounds, I would be perfect. She was 110 but 70 was the perfect weight. Her personal goal, the look of perfection. The overindulgence in food had always made her feel better but it wasn’t enough. Along with the food, Erica filled and took her 5th shot of tequila in an attempt to almost burn the memories of her youth away, silencing the remarks and rebuttals from her mother about her weight. It was only a mere five years and twenty pounds ago, but to Erica it felt like yesterday.

The look was there, staring in the face in all its decayed glory but she couldn’t see it; only the look of anger, disappointment, and failure. No matter how much Erica lost, she could never see nothing more than a grotesque, repulsive image that wouldn’t go away. The scale and her body became a continuous battle she felt that she couldn’t win, until now. As the last bit of forced bile escaped from her chapped lips and irritated throat, she proceeded into her bedroom where she began to feel a tightness in her chest. The more steps she took, the more tighter it became, and with a sudden fall to the floor Erica’s chest finally stopped. No more binging, no more purging, no more pain. Erica wanted nothing more but to achieve her goal. Despite concerned advice from loved ones, her ideal look of beauty took on a different meaning with cries for help, love, and acceptance.  To her, 70 was the perfect weight. The look of perfection.

5 Tips to Make You a Better Writer Instantly

A Writer's Path

by Felicity Annora

Hey guys! I’m back again with my self-help posts, and this time I’m going to tell you you how to become a better writer instantly. I know it sounds like one of those bad “get-rich-quick” gimmicks that you find in commercials- and you’d absolutely right. But this time, the tips and tricks are real and they truly are things that help you improve  your writing quickly.

So without further ado, here they are:

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Crying

The house was silent.

James’ wife Kate was in bed, no longer nagging him while his son slept quietly in his room. His cries had a way of penetrating deep into James’ head.

Sitting on the shitty brown couch his in-laws had given them as a wedding present, James enjoyed the silence.

Then his father spoke.

“Is that kid of yours going to cry tonight?”

James talked to his father every night, whether he wanted to or not; he always told James how to live his life.

The old man was more overbearing now than when he was alive.

“No, he’s not,” James replied.

“Yes, he will.”

Ignoring his father, he tried to find something decent to watch until Kate called from their bedroom.

“Honey, the air conditioner cut out again! Can you come take a look at it?”

“Tell her to suck it up,” the old man…

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Highway 54

Brown teddy bear with standard stitching and right eye removed. Soaked from the rain on highway 54, it was just a mere few miles away from where my world stopped. Everything from that day except for the smells were a distant memory. The smells…the smell of the air thickening as it happened, the smell of the rain kissed with humidity, and the smell of blood.

The scent alone wouldn’t relent as it became a constant and even permanent reminder of the events that happened on that rainy day. As I clutch the teddy bear in my arms I try to forget but the memories were everywhere, including the tiny shards of glass hidden on the road sprinkled with the blood of my son. But I had no choice. It was the only way I could keep my marriage.