The One About the Romance Author and the Break-Up

Hello once again, my lovely readers. I know you were all expecting the already long-overdue release of Flying High, and the much, much longer awaited release of Tangled Love. And some of you who might be newer readers are probably confused and frustrated by the unexplained disappearance of those two pre-orders from the store. And I know at least a few of you have been asking why I suddenly disappeared entirely from Twitter and my blog.

For all of that, I apologize. I know that for those of you who have been around here for a while that I’ve had a few points previously where I dropped off the map due to depression and complicated life circumstances, and it certainly hasn’t helped that I’d been living with undiagnosed and untreated ADHD all these years. And maybe a few of you hoped that this time I’d finally manage to get my shit together and stick to a semi-regular publishing schedule… or at the very least, keep my promise to have these upcoming books out when I said they would be. Hell, I certainly thought that would finally be the case, especially since so many things in my life finally seemed to be going my way, not to mention the fact that my new Adderall prescription has been doing wonders for my concentration. I’ve been calmer, less anxious, and all-around much happier with myself.

But then… right around the time I was on the verge of having Flying High ready to release, I broke up with my boyfriend, and my life got upended. Of course, there’s the sad emotional fallout I’ve been dealing with of leaving not just the only partner I’d ever been with, but a man I’d been with for almost eight years and lived with for almost half that time.

There’s the guilt of feeling like I have no right to miss him or mourn the loss of our relationship since I was the one who left. There’s the regret that I didn’t realize two years ago or longer that I was falling out of love with him and that we were just too different to work out in the long run; the bitter realization that if I hadn’t spent the last four years or so largely drifting aimlessly through life in a fog of depression passively living his life alongside him since mine didn’t seem to be going anywhere, then we likely wouldn’t have stayed together as long as we had. The soul-crushing sadness that I did manage to fall out of love with someone that I once was very much in love with, and the fear that I might never find that with anyone again and have it last. Even more guilt, because I do still love and care about him despite not being in love and sometimes I feel like a failure or a quitter for giving up. Guilt for hurting him, guilt for feeling relief that it’s over… guilt, guilt, guilt, and bitterness, too. Bitterness and even anger because I did try, didn’t I? I tried for nearly eight years, and sometimes, in my most bitter moments, it’s hard not to feel like so much of that time was a waste. Not just in my relationship, of course, but those feelings are all tangled up with my anger and shame at myself for not getting my life on track, forging my own path, and focusing on my own happiness so much sooner.

So yeah, I’ve been going through a really shitty time these past six weeks or so. And of course, it doesn’t help that I’ve temporarily moved back in with my parents (and I love them, but it can be kinda hard to concentrate on writing erotic romance and just doing my own thing when they’re around sometimes), plus I’m working two jobs right now and will be for at least the next few months, and I’m trying to look for a new place to live, and I’m trying to reconnect with friends that I’m ashamed to admit I’ve been largely isolated from for a long time (Not because my ex was abusive and isolating me from them, I want to stress; more so because of my emotional and mental health struggles, which wasn’t helped by having moved away from where most of them still lived). Mostly, I’ve been getting by on Sheetz coffee, gummy peach rings, a newfound obsession with Gossip Girl, ASMR spa videos, and solitary jogs around the high school track.

Long story short, I’ve been exhausted, physically and mentally, and it’s taken me until now to feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m in the right frame of mind to get back to my beloved characters and the world of love stories with happier endings. Not to mention my Fifty Shades/Grey recaps. Maybe that’ll give me something to channel my bitter feelings at, ya know? I think I did already blow past the official 10-year anniversary… was that, like? Yesterday? Maybe even today?

Anyway… while I can’t promise any exact dates as to when you can expect Flying High and subsequent upcoming books to come out as I continue to nurse my broken heart and adjust to my temporary new normal, I will say that you can expect them very soon. Again, I’m so sorry to all of you, especially those of you who pre-ordered one of my books only to have it canceled. I hope you can understand and bear with me a little longer, but hey, I’d be fed up with me, too, if I’d been left hanging for so long.

We may be halfway through 2021, but I don’t think it’s too late to still be optimistic about the rest of this year. I still do believe that my life in general is finally on the path I want it to be, and despite also having so many other things going on in it right now, I’m looking forward to being much more active as an author and blogger. I might be feeling a bit cynical about love right now, but I’m not going to let that stop me from crafting the steamiest, dirtiest, most heart-wrenching, and most swoon-worthy romance that I can, dammit.

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