Feeling very knife-y today. Not stabby, exactly, but man, the news has just been unrelenting war, death, and aggression lately, and although things have been relatively calm where I live (compared to Minneapolis, Portland, or Chicago) I can’t help but feel like we’re next.

I had an Uber driver a couple of weeks ago — white guy, trucker hat, flannel shirt, came in a big SUV, and I really wasn’t sure if I should talk politics since he very well *might* have been a MAGA sort — but we’re not in the car two minutes before we passed a bumper sticker or a sign or something that made him say, “dang, I just don’t know what to do with this country… do you think we’re going to have to fend off an invasion by the National Guard?

Turns out he only looks like a lumberjack: he’s got a PhD in political science. He was thinking of taking a course in field medicine first aid, figuring that would be the most useful thing he could do on the front lines. “I can’t believe I’m even talking about this,” he said. “But here we are.” I encouraged him to take the course. More healers can only be a good thing.

Speaking of which, a list of “things you can do besides protest or vote” is going around, and one of the suggestions is get trained in “PFA” which is “psychological first aid.” The Canadian Red Cross offers online courses, one in PFA self-care, and one in helping others. Red Cross/Red Crescent has a whole curriculum built around the recognition that mental health is crucial for any kind of help providers as well as those being helped.

I’m thinking of doing at least the self care course…? It’s only $20 (Canadian!).

Meanwhile, you can see my mood reflected in the swag I just designed for my book launch next week. Photo below. (Skip the rest of this post if you want to skip the book biz stuff. I know it’s a weird-ass time to be trying to launch a book… )

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Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

Whew. Another Duck Day done and dusted. I just took my wedding ring off and discovered a leaf of thyme has been hiding under it since some time during the cooking yesterday…?

If you’re new here, “Duck Day” is what corwin calls Thanksgiving, because he always liked duck better than turkey, and when he got to college in the 1980s the first Thanksgiving he cooked himself (with his friend Michael) they made duck. (Hi, Scliff!)

Every year we cook up a theme for this multi-course, plated dinner and we spend the better part of a week prepping, testing, and sourcing. This year’s theme was “Recess” — as in that break in the school day when we were kids when they made us go play outside. Because man, we could all use a break right now.

The menu was arranged like a hopscotch board and the courses were:

  • Hopscotch
  • Dodge Ball
  • Marco Polo
  • Hawaiian Punch
  • Duck, Duck, Goose
  • Double Dutch

collage of three views of the menu

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Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

In honor of my publisher putting a new cover on my baseball romance and moving it into Kindle Unlimited for a while, I figured I would publish a sample chapter for you all to enjoy. Here is Chapter Four of THE HOT STREAK!

Casey works at a design bureau in Boston, and finds herself somewhat unexpectedly in a fling with Tyler Hammond, the star pitcher for Boston’s new major league baseball team, the Robins. They’ve been on a couple of dates and had some of the hottest sex in Casey’s life when Tyler asks if she wants to come to New York City when he has a rare day free before the next game he pitches. Casey says yes, and packs her bag for New York:

Chapter Four

Casey arrived at the hotel around lunchtime. She’d had a nice ride on the Amtrak train into the city, and Tyler was standing in the lobby waiting for her when she came in. He had his sunglasses on, and was wearing a sport coat, which she didn’t expect.

“There you are,” he said, tucking his cell phone away and twirling her into a hug. “Right on time. Want to go grab something to eat? There’s everything here, of course. Oh, wait, let’s put your bag away first.”

“All right.” She would have been content to carry it if he’d wanted to go right then; it was just a backpack with one change of clothes and some toiletries. But she figured she might as well leave it off. They rode the elevator up to a small but nice-looking suite, the bedroom separated from the sitting room by a set of French doors. She plopped the bag on the couch. “Where do you want to go?’

“Everywhere!” he said, throwing his arms wide. “Off days are so rare, and off days that aren’t spent packing to go somewhere are even rarer. I’m glad this worked out.” He held out his arm for her and she took it as they went back to the elevator. “Today I get to pretend to be a normal person. Let’s go to Times Square, eh?”

“Sure.” It wasn’t Casey’s first trip to the city, or Tyler’s either, but there was something about New York that made each visit new, and yet the same. They ate in a Thai restaurant they stumbled across on one of the side streets a few blocks from the hotel, then wandered through the throngs of spring tourists in Times Square. Tyler haggled with a street vendor over buying an “I Love New York” T-shirt, and Casey wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but it ended up with him buying an entire case of the shirts for about fifty bucks, and some kid on a bicycle trundling off to the hotel with the box strapped on the back with bungee cords.

“That was totally like…something you’d see in China or Uganda or something,” she said, watching the kid struggle to pedal away.

“Yeah, wasn’t it?” he said, putting his sunglasses back on. “I went on this goodwill baseball tour to China when I was in college, saw a lot of stuff like that.”

The question was out of her mouth before she had a chance to wonder whether she cared about the answer. “Oh? Where’d you go to school?” Stupid. Asking him about the trip to China would probably be better.

“Oh, University of Texas, for the baseball program, of course. Couple of places tried to recruit me. I picked the one with the warmest weather.”

They moved on through the crowd, past a giant toy store with a small Ferris wheel inside it. “I never finished. Once I got drafted, I didn’t go back. They say I still could when my career’s over, but can you imagine me at forty years old, sitting in a classroom with a pencil behind my ear trying to do algebra or something? Doesn’t seem likely. And it’s not like I need a college degree or I’ll end up scrubbing floors somewhere. Or selling T-shirts and electronics on the street.”

She nodded, wondering if she should be avoiding the subject of salaries and money, or if those rules didn’t really apply, when she’d read in The New York Times online that he was making $10.5 million this year. “So where to now?”

“You want to see if we can get tickets to a show or something? Phantom of the Opera? Man, it’s so weird not to have a game.”

Casey hooked her arm through his as they walked. “Don’t you get a couple of months off, though, in the winter?”

“Yeah, but once the season starts…you just have to be in the mentality that there’s a game every night. If you wish you had days off, you won’t be mentally ready to play. But then it feels weird when you don’t have a game, like you’re skipping school or something.”

“But I thought you only played every fifth day anyway.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “But there are things I do on each day between starts, part of my program to get ready for the next start. Kind of like how football teams have stuff they do all week between games, except I’m just one guy. The rest of the team has to go out and play every night. You just…you get kind of addicted to it, almost, and then you miss it when it’s not there, even just for one night.”

He stopped walking then and turned to face her. “But don’t get me wrong. Having an evening out with you is…I’ve been thinking about it all week. So what do you think? Broadway show?”

“Do you think we can still get tickets this late?”

“Hang on.” He took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed. “Hi, yes, this is Tyler Hammond in room 1253. Heh, yeah, thanks. I was wondering, what are the chances you could get me two tickets to…uh…” He motioned to Casey to say something.

Casey racked her brains trying to think of a show she wanted to see. “Chicago?”

Chicago,” he said into the phone. “For tonight. Oh, that would be awesome. Great. Call me back if there are any problems. Yeah.” He gave his number and hung up. “God, concierges are great.”

She grinned. “I wish I had one in everyday life.”

He laughed nervously. “Uh, yeah.”

“Tyler, what’s wrong?”

“I’m embarrassed to admit I do actually have one. A concierge desk, I mean. I’d never have stuff from the dry cleaners in time or anything without them.” He was actually blushing.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I just didn’t want you to think I was lazy.”

She punched him in the arm and they went back to walking. “So the show’s not until later. What should we do until then?”

“We could take a boat tour to see the Statue of Liberty, we could go up the Empire State Building, we could go to a museum. They have dinosaurs at one of them, don’t they? Or the planetarium. There’s supposedly fun shopping in Greenwich Village…”

Casey laughed. “You sound like you’d rather see the dinosaurs than shop.”

“Well, that’s true…”

“Can we just hail a cab and say ‘Take us to the dinosaurs?'”

“Probably.”

* * * *

Four hours later ,they had seen the dinosaurs at the Museum of Natural History and ridden a horse cart through Central Park, during which ride the carriage driver had told Tyler he needed to come play for the Yankees. He outlined all his points, including how the Yankees were surely going to be the ones to offer him the most in free agency, had the most players in the Hall of Fame, and so on. Tyler had demurred, saying that was all in the future and right now, he wasn’t even in the American League.

That prompted Casey to finally ask what was up with the leagues. She understood there were two separate leagues, the American League and the National League, going way back to the dawn of the 20th century. “But I looked at the schedule and you play some of the American League teams.”

“Yeah, they’ve been doing that for years now. Inter-league play. It means we’ll get to play the Red Sox later in the summer. That’ll be fun, won’t it? Boston is such a sports-crazed town. They’ll have to declare martial law to keep people from rioting.” Even though the Robins had only moved into Boston a short time ago, they already had quite a following. “What do you say, buddy? If I sign with the Red Sox, I won’t even have to move.”

“Man, the Red Sox suck,” is all the driver would say to that.

They then rode the subway down to Soho and Casey convinced Tyler to come with her into some art galleries, and he even seemed to like some of the cool modern art she showed him. “Yeah, when I think art, I think of paintings of vases of flowers and fat women,” he said, without any trace of meanness. “But this stuff is cool. I think I like the sculptures the best.”

Casey was tempted by a sculpture that looked a bit like a giant crescent moon, only it was iridescent colors, made of metal with a pitted and scarred surface. On its chest-high pedestal it stood as tall as Tyler, a grand almost-circle almost like the horns of a great ox. She looked at the price tag. Not only would the piece be totally out of place in her rundown apartment, it cost easily a third of her annual salary after taxes.

The gallery owner chatted with her about the piece anyway. “God, it’s really beautiful. I really like it, but I don’t have room for something like this in my tiny apartment,” she said, trying not to mention that it was priced light years out of her reach.

Tyler came up behind her, steering her aside from the owner. “But it’d look great in my ultra-modern place, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, with those huge ceiling you have and the…wait, you’re not thinking of buying it, are you?”

“I want to buy it for you, but you can keep it at my place, and you know, visit it there. Until you move somewhere bigger, eventually. Right? After you learn to play golf and get into management?”

She groaned. “You can’t buy me something that expensive.”

“Why not? I bought my mother an entire house and two cars. It’s not like I’m going hungry, right? What’s money for?”

She looked up at him and he looked really earnest, like if she said no, he might actually be hurt. “Are you sure?”

“Are you sure?” he asked back. “If you really like it, it’s yours.”

Her palms were starting to sweat. “Yeah. I really like it.”

“Awesome. It’s going to look so cool in the sitting room. I’ll have to invite people over on the next off day at home for cocktails to look at it.” He grinned like a boy getting a new puppy. “Uh, miss? Ma’am?” He flagged down the gallery owner and set about buying it and having it delivered.

Casey didn’t listen to most of the details, just stared at the piece with a hand on her cheek, feeling it burn. But it was a pleasant burn.

When they went back out onto the street, Tyler was holding her hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just kind of stunned.”

He smiled. “Look. Whatever guy you go out with, each one has something different about him, right? One guy’s maybe really handy with the fix-up stuff. One guy’s maybe really smart and can, like, do your taxes for you, right? Well, you happen to be going out with a jock who makes more money than he knows what to do with, so, you know, this kind of thing happens.”

She laughed at that. “Okay.”

“So, what do you think it was a sculpture of?”

“Of? Well, I think it’s supposed to be abstract. You interpret it how you want to. But I saw it as a kind of crescent moon. You know how sometimes it almost looks like it could go all the way around but it doesn’t? That’s what it made me think of.”

“That’s really cool. Now I really think we should grab a snack before the show, and just have a late dinner after. Maybe room service. Got to love the twenty-four-hour room service. It’s half the reason the team stays where it does.”

“Sounds good to me.”

* * * *

They were walking back to the hotel from the theater when Casey put her arm around Tyler’s waist, pulling him close as they walked in step with each other. He smelled more like aftershave than she usually preferred, but under it she could still tell it was him, just a hint of something that reminded her body of how his skin tasted. It was a nice feeling, wanting him, and not feeling either guilty or pressured about it. It just felt, well, nice.

“Are you having a good time?” he asked as they turned the corner into a stiff Manhattan wind.

“A terrific time.”

“I’m not just an excuse to get away from the office?” He grinned.

“And what if you are? Going to kick me out of bed?” She grinned right back.

“No, ma’am,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “So I guess I know what we’re doing when we get back to the room?”

“Unless you have a better idea,” Casey said, half daring him to suggest something.

But that was the end of the jokes. He pulled her into a hug, and she could hear the satin lining of his sport coat hissing against his other clothes as he enveloped her in his arms. “I’m glad.”

“About what?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Mm, just, you know, some girls wouldn’t be so nice to me.”

Casey didn’t really understand that comment, but she wasn’t about to start trying to pick it apart now. Maybe she could ask Missy a bit about Tyler’s previous girlfriends next time she saw her. Nice to him? What was the point of going out with a man who was the epitome of sex on wheels, then holding out on him? Maybe some of them really only wanted him for his money? That seemed quite possible.

She slipped her hands into his trouser pockets and felt not very subtly for his erection. He was only half hard, but as her fingertips brushed him, she felt him stiffening. She kept touching him until it seemed he was fully hard and he groaned.

“Soooo nice to me,” he said.

“Just be nice back,” she said and stepped back and tapped him on the nose. “Come on.”

* * * *

In the lobby, they ran into Mad Dog and a few of Tyler’s other teammates. He introduced her to Madison, and Casey shook his hand, finding it huge and rough. “I’ve met your wife,” she said. “In the stands. She’s great.”

“Isn’t she, though?” Mad Dog said. He glanced at Tyler, seemed to read something there, before adding, “If you come on more road trips, I’ll try to get her to come along, too. You guys can hang out.”

“Sure.” She gently pulled at Tyler’s hand then, trying to be obvious without being too obvious about wanting to go upstairs now.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Mad Dog said to Tyler as they were walking away. “Big start tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tyler said, and pulled Casey into an open elevator. “Ignore him. Catchers always think it’s their job to nursemaid pitchers.”

Casey looked at him. “Should we not stay up too late, though?”

He snorted. “The early bus to the park doesn’t leave here until two thirty in the afternoon. I think we’ll manage. It’s not even eleven now, is it?”

“Nope.”

In the room, they discovered a cheese plate, a bottle of champagne, and note from the reservations manager saying, “Go Robins!” Tyler eyed it suspiciously. “Okay, now, see, if it were the night after I pitched, and I won, then it might be okay. But it might all be a ploy on the part of some Mets fan to put me off my game tomorrow.”

She sniffed the cheese. “Well, why don’t we just save it for tomorrow? If we keep it in the ice bucket, they won’t throw it away. We can stick the cheese plate in the mini bar and test it for contamination later.”

He laughed. “All right.”

Casey put the plate away, tucking it into the mini bar on top of the jarred peanuts. Then she drifted into the bathroom and brushed her hair, which had gotten a bit tangled in the wind. She knew Tyler was watching her as he went to hang up his sport coat and take off his shoes.

She was suddenly nervous, butterflies in her stomach. How was it going to go this time? Was it going to be as good as before? She was really, really starting to like him.

He came up behind her then, lifting her hair to press a kiss against her neck. “Now if I remember right, you have a spot,” he said, his lips brushing her skin as he talked, “somewhere, right about…here…”

She pressed back against him with a gasp as his tongue found that place that seemed connected directly to her clit. She wondered what that warm velvet would feel like down there and she moaned aloud.

“Bed now,” she said.

“You sure?” He moved to the other side, lips and tongue searching for the matching spot there, his hands on his hips and the firm press of his erection against her backside. “You sure I shouldn’t just lift you up on the bathroom counter here and slip it in you?”

She moaned again, not knowing whether he meant to do it or just use the idea to arouse. His hand slipped around to the front of her, grazing over her mound with light pressure.

“I can make you come just as many times in here, you know…”

“Bed,” she said more firmly, then squealed with laughter as he lifted her up with another “yes, ma’am” and carried her through the French doors to the enormous bed. He half-tossed her onto it so she bounced a little, then started dragging her pants and panties down. He got one leg free of her clothes and then put his shoulder under the bend of her knee, pushing her onto her back and spreading her legs.

One of his hands spread her lips gently and then she felt a long, slow swipe of his tongue up one side of her labia. It was too deliberate for him to have just accidentally missed her clit. Then he did the other side and she groaned, grinding her hips toward his face.

“Now now,” he scolded. “You know it’ll be better if you let me take my time.” He bent his head again, this time flicking his tongue butterfly light all around her clit, but still not touching it directly except for the occasional brush.

She chuckled inwardly. Sex, and maybe Tyler, too, was a pile of contradictions. He was in such a hurry to go slowly that he hadn’t even taken her pants all the way off, or even touched her shirt. Just went straight for the “good part.” And yet it didn’t feel like he was rushing or neglecting her at all, the way it might have with another guy.

His tongue snaked over her clit and she gave a long moan. That was the funny thing, she thought. The guys who were in the biggest hurry were the ones who really didn’t know how to turn her on like this. She was completely ready for Tyler to fuck the living daylights out of her after just that little bit—she was ready even back in the bathroom. But when was the last time she’d spent all day with a guy thinking about, and knowing, they were going to have sex that night?

He brought her all the way to the edge of orgasm with his tongue, then eased her back down to a lower plateau of pleasure before lifting his head, his chin glistening. “So, you want to come now? Or you want me in you like last time?”

“Um…”

“Or there’s this…” he said, waggling his eyebrows as he slipped a finger into her and tickled her g-spot.

“Hey!”

“Too much? Don’t like it?” He continued to touch it, but with a lighter pressure.

“N-no, I love it, I just…oh….” He did something else inside her then, with two fingers it felt like, and her eyes rolled back in her head and she arched her back. “Oh fuck, you could pretty much make me come just from that.”

“Really? That would be so awesome. I’ve never made a girl come just from, you know, being in her. Well, I might have once or twice, but I’m pretty sure they were faking.”

“Well, I’ve never come just from something in me, but…” She bore down on his fingers again. “But God, it feels good when you lick me, too.”

“That sounds like a hint,” he said, and went back to licking her while doing what he was doing with his fingers.

Casey came within seconds, crying out loudly and clawing at the pillows. When she had fallen limp and panting, he lifted his head again. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“What?”

“It’s just a catch phrase. You are awesome.”

She laughed. “I think I’m supposed to be the one saying that now.”

“Here, say it to this.” He slipped his pants off finally and reared up on his knees, his cock riding high and full.

She put a hand under his balls the way you would the chin of a big dog before talking to it. “Hmm, I dunno. Your cock’s awesomeness has yet to be proven tonight.”

He made an affronted noise. “Well, then! I guess I better get to proving it. Which way do you want it? Front, back, upside down, or all of the above?”

“Just come here,” she said, kicking off her pants and pulling him between her legs. While she was at it, she stripped off her shirt and went to work on his. He finished it for her, then bent to leave kisses across the tops of her breasts.

“You ready now?” he asked. “I think you’re forgetting something.”

She blinked up at him. “Holy shit, you’re right.”

“It’s okay, darling. I’ve got it.” He had to get off the bed to retrieve the condom, but he returned quickly with it already in place. “There you go.”

Casey just nodded. She was on the pill, so it wasn’t like she was worried about pregnancy. But this was only their second date, and if Tyler’s reputation was what it was, then it was better to be safe. She was grateful. Most guys would have just plunged in if she’d pulled at them like that, she thought.

“Impatient,” she said, raising her eyebrow.

“Okay.” His eyes were open and looking into hers as he entered her, a flicker of amazement in them as he slipped all the way in, his mouth slightly open as if in surprise.

Her own expression mirrored his. She felt like she should say something, something that would capture the moment and burn it in her memory, but there were no words. Well, maybe one. “Good.”

“Yes,” he agreed, and he began to move inside her.

* * *
The Hot Streak is now in Kindle Unlimited, or for purchase & download at Amazon: https://amzn.to/4n7RoVP
A trope graphic with the book cover showing a baseball player and his girlfriend facing each other on a baseball field, surrounded by the tropes like She's his good luck charm, accidental relationship, reformed player, and jet-set romance

Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

I’m still riding the creative high and queer community solidarity feeling that came from reading at Writers With Drinks in Seattle. Charlie Jane Anders was an incandescent host, Charlie’s Queer Books put so many books into people’s hands, all the readers were fire!

The story I read from, “Large Emotional Models,” is now live on the Sunday Morning Transport!

I’ve just spent the past five minutes trying to write a sentence describing the story, but the story is itself the best expression of the underlying ideas, so I keep throwing them away. The official description is “a story about fitting into one’s skin and the universe.”

I was motivated to write it when I was on my way to an academic conference, and I got ad-targeted on Instagram by a university in Europe offering positions to American academics fleeing the country. I started writing a story on the airplane to the conference, balling up all my feelings about the moment we are living through right now, with AI and LLMs and attacks on academia and science and the tidal wave of transphobia, and out came a story that is about Prince and David Bowie and grief?

It is their free story this month, so everyone can read it, but if you’d like to try getting a really great sf/f story from Sunday Morning Transport every week, here’s a signup link for friends and family to get two months free: https://www.sundaymorningtransport.com/smt2024

Collage of photos from Writers with Drinks (photos by Jo Sisodia/Charlie’s Queer Books):
Collage of photos by Jo Sisodia/Charlie's Queer Books showing Cecilia Tan, a dark-haired author in dark glasses wearing black, at a lectern in a large church-like lecture hall full of people

Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

There is not just one Worldcon. In Seattle this year, there were 5500 registered attendees plus another 2000 or so bought single-day memberships, meaning there were ~7500 different Worldcons this year.

Worldcon is many things to many people, but the one thing it always is, is an intentional community. It’s an event that happens because people give their time, their energy, their skills, and their care to make it happen.

In this way, Worldcon is, and always has been, what we make of it. It is simultaneously the home of one of our genre’s most important awards, a premiere costuming event, a professional development incubator, a social structure, an important economic opportunity for some, a schmoozefest, and a celebration of all that the science fiction/fantasy genres have to offer. It’s also a microcosm of all the stresses and problems of our society, and really, how could it not be?

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Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

Whew~! Readercon was a whirlwind, as expected, but so much fun. I had so many great panels, and I wrote down so many inspiring thoughts and quotes from fellow panelists. Two in particular from Vandana Singh: “There is an artificial line between nature and culture.” and “Shiva was a bisexual god before he got appropriated by mainstream Hindus.”

But now it’s time to gird my loins for Worldcon in Seattle! I leave in less than a week. But guess what…?

Fan Expo Boston

I got added to the Fan Expo Boston author lineup as well, being wrangled by Lovestruck Books, the absolutely fab new romance bookstore in Harvard Square, which has a huuuuge romantasy section, nice erotica section, and lots of other squee-worthy genres.

So this Saturday, August 9 I’ll be autographing Magic University at 11am at Fan Expo, along with Elizabeth Skarpnes (To The Gallows|on Bookshop & Amazon) and I.V. Ophelia (The Poisoner | on Bookshop & Amazon).

Then at 9pm I’ll be on an 18+ panel/writing workshop on How to Write a Sex Scene with Kim Swizz and I.V. Ophelia! The three of us will be giving advice (in graphic detail if necessary) on how to wring every last bit of pleasure from writing sex scenes! Whether you’re trying to keep it as low key as possible or you want to turn up the heat, we have techniques to share!

Fan Expo Boston is held at BCEC (Boston Convention & Exhibition Center, right next to the Westin Seaport.)

THEN, it’s off to Seattle Worldcon!

My Worldcon schedule is spread out over five days and four different venues:

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Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

Whew! I’ll be making my Guest of Honor run at Readercon this coming weekend in Burlington, MA! It’s me and P. Djeli Clark in the GoH seats, with legions of super-smart sf/f writers and editors on the program, including Max Gladstone, Rob Cameron, Catherine Lundoff, John Chu, Laura Antoniou, Erin Roberts, Sarah Pinsker, Shariann Lewitt and many many more.

As expected, my schedule will be PACKED. Of note: I added a second autographing slot because of concerns that the first one happens soooo early. I will not have a table selling books: you can get them in the bookshop from Sally at Larry Smith Booksellers and some will also be on the Broad Universe table.

And yes, there will be some copies of the new shiny beautiful Magic University Collectors Edition hardcover. (And if you ordered a copy via Kickstarter, check your email for an update about picking up the book in person if you want to! Or just come to a party!)

FRIDAY
2:00 PM Bisexuals in Science Fiction: Still Hip After All These Years?
3:00 PM Autograph Session #1
4:00 PM Cecilia Tan GOH Reading
7:00 PM Moving from Traditional Publishing to Self-Publishing
9:00 PM Levels of Interiority (in Narrative)

SATURDAY
12:00 Noon The Works of Cecilia Tan (I’m not on this, I’ll just be listening!)
1:00 PM Divination in the Writing Process
4:00 PM Guest of Honor Interview: Cecilia Tan by Charlie Jane Anders
6:00 PM Erotica, Horror, and the Fear of Visceral Fiction
9:00 PM Patrons & Kickstarter Supporters Get-Together

SUNDAY
12:00 PM Noon Beyond the Bio: Weird Jobs & the Worlds They Inspired
1:00 PM Harry Potter and the Undeath of the Author
2:00 PM Autographing Session #2

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Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

So, between Pride being yesterday here in Boston, and Father’s Day being today, I thought I’d tell you a story today of what Being Queer in the Nineties was like, and also (another) story about Dad.

To be clear, being queer in the 1990s was definitely not always a joy. But in this case… well, you’ll see.

When I was in my early 20s, my parents decided to take me and my brother on a cruise vacation. This was exciting for a number of reasons, not least because my parents were awesome to hang out with. It was always fun to spend time with them and my brother, who was then 16 and had at that point gotten into the Grateful Dead. (Jerry Garcia was still alive, then.)

If you’re new here, my Dad was a Chinese-filipino immigrant who came to the States to be a doctor (and send money home to support his 9 younger siblings). Mom, meanwhile, was born in rural upstate New York, spent her teens in Florida, and then moved to NYC after college. Mom was the one who raised my brother and me to be the progressive humanists we are, while Dad often seemed a little bit baffled by “American” attitudes.

Also, it was our first time on a cruise ship.

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Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

Here’s what’s keeping me super-busy this month… Can you believe it’s been 15 years since Magic University hit the (digital) shelves?

It feels like a different era of history. In 2010, Obama was president, the Kindle was still a newfangled thing, and Twitter still felt niche (at 40 million users). And the final Harry Potter book had come out only 3 years earlier, and the final movie was still to come…!

At the time I didn’t know that writing a trans-inclusive magic school book was going to become such a political statement. I mostly wanted to write a magic school series where we knew up front lots of the characters were queer and that would actually pay off a rivals-to-lovers trope/plot line. I wanted to write original fic that my fanfic-loving friends would love to read.

I didn’t include a trans mentor for my hero to spite J.K. Rowling. At the time she hadn’t yet voiced her anti-trans views. I included trans characters because trans people exist.

I also include some characters who change gender magically. While I wouldn’t call that “spite,” it did always feel like a missed opportunity to me (and many fanfic writers) that none of the many ways a wizard could change gender in the Harry Potter books (Polyjuice, animorphmagus, etc) are ever explored.

But here we are, in 2025, with JKR leading a brigade of anti-trans voices in the UK, and the USA devolving fast into a book-banning fascist nation trying to legislate trans people out of existence.

It’s why now seems the right time for me to produce a hardcover omnibus edition of Magic University. So I’m running a Kickstarter to do just that.

I launched last week and it took off like a rocket! The more people who back it, the fancier I can make the hardcover edition, too, so if I can nerd out about books for a minute: it’s already slated to have a really nifty fore-edge design on the pages, a Wibalin buckram binding, and a foil-stamped or debossed title on the cover. If the campaign continues to do well, well reach the custom designed endpapers goal next, and at $10,000 we can add a ribbon bookmark! (I really really want to get to the ribbon bookmark…!)

The link, if you want to read more about it or become a backer:
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/ceciliatan/magic-university-collectors-edition-hardcover-omnibus?ref=depv7q

(Mock-ups of the hardcover design and such below the cut…)

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

I can hardly believe 2025 is already here, which means we are only a few weeks away from Arisia, the “big tent” science fiction/fantasy fan convention in Boston. Well, this year in Cambridge! And in early February I’ll be in Chicago for Capricon, as well.

Arisia has relocated from their longtime home on the Boston waterfront to a hotel on the Charles River, the Cambridge Hyatt Regency (sometimes nicknamed “the ziggurat”). The author Guest of Honor is Moniquill Blackgoose, and if I haven’t already gushed at you to read her book To Shape a Dragon’s Breath, consider this your exhortation to do so (buy it at Bookshop or Amazon or your local bookstore).

It’s basically… what if there was an anti-colonialist, feminist “magic school” book but with dragons?

The worldbuilding is so great, and the characters are sharp, and smart, and caring. I’ve been beating this book’s drum for a while, partly because I published some books of hers back in the day with Circlet Press, but also because it’s so damn good. Awards seem to agree: I’ve lost track of all the ones it has won, but they include the Nebula and the Lodestar, and it made the Locus Awards, BFAs, and Astounding finalist lists.

The new Arisia hotel is smaller, and VERY close to my house, so I decided not to get a room this year and let folks coming from farther away have the rooms. This means I’m not throwing a party this year (unless someone with a party suite wants to lend it to me for a tea party on Saturday afternoon?)

Here’s my schedule of panels, as well. As of right now, it does not appear that I’ll be doing a Friday night erotica reading. (I’ll make up for it at Readercon this summer, where I’ll be GoH.)

Saturday 8pm Invented Languages, Sunday 3pm Publication: Sorting out the Confusion, Sunday 8pm What About Elevenses?

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

So I’m blogging this recipe so I don’t forget all the changes I made to this recipe, because there were enough of them that it was significant, and yet the overall vibe of the result was the same, I think?

Jane Friedman had linked to the King Arthur “Orange-Cranberry Fruitcake” recipe in one of her publishing newsletters, saying it was basically a great fruitcake-like thing that wasn’t TOO fruitcakey. I decided to try making a variation when I saw we still had half a package of gourmet candied citron peel leftover from last Christmas’s panettone baking that really ought to get used up.

First, here’s the link to the original recipe: https://www.kingarthurbaking.com/recipes/orange-cranberry-nut-fruitcake-recipe

Here are the changes I made in the ingredients:

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

Tags:

Finally getting around to posting this update. I’ve been so busy with so much writing-related stuff, but not much actual writing… !

The biggest writing news this month is that I finally launched the Vanished Chronicles via Patreon. That’s right, after nearly 10 years of hearing me talk about it, and after the whole saga of Tor Books putting me through endless delays and reversals (and in the end having to give me the rights back…) you can finally start to READ the dang thing.

I’m so pleased with how it reads now. I was worried that I wouldn’t like it anymore, but I really love the characters and the story, there’s so much great going on in it… and it’s only gotten more relevant, not less, with time.

What was once entitled “Initiates of the Blood” is now “Bound by the Blood,” it’s book one, and the first two posts are up (the prologue and chapter one). New chapters appear every Friday. Here: https://www.patreon.com/collection/886649?view=condensed

If you’re not already a paying patron, you can also read chapter one for FREE over on my blog: https://www.ceciliatan.com/archives/4849

I know one post per week is going to feel slow to some folks… especially since this is romantic suspense, with a lot of cliffhangers. So I have pledged that if the patreon monthly pledge amount climbs to $500 a month, I’ll double the number of chapters per week to two. So if you’re intrigued, want more, and want to jump on the bandwagon, you can join the patreon for as little as $2 a month. (You can also “follow” for free, but patreon doesn’t let us show any of the naughty bits — they have to go behind the paywall.)

I’ll also give patrons some chances to “earn” an extra post sometimes, because I’m generous like that. 🙂

Collage of colorful book covers

DGC VOLS 1-10 ARE IN KU

Another month, another new edition! And book 11 is going through a final proofread before I upload that one, but it’s imminent. Cover art is also done for books 11 and 12, and sketches have been approved for the 13th and final book. Just waiting on the final art to come in! Can’t believe this massive project of re-releasing and re-doing will finally be finished!

Book 11 will be the first one that never had a book edition of any kind before, not even an ebook. So I’m eager to get that one out. Another couple of weeks.

WIP Report

Confession time: I have not written a single new word of fiction since election night.

The dragon book is looming in the background, waiting for me to get my braincells back together enough to get back to it. I discovered a few days after the election that I’m B12 deficient, so that might also explain the recent lack of energy. And here I was, blaming politics?

Politics is still awful, but it’s especially difficult to face pronouncements like Project 2025 which (as I ranted about last month) literally states that anyone who creates or distributes “pornography” should be jailed. Pornography by their definition includes not only explicit erotica, but anything that includes queer or trans characters, gay relationships, or poly relationships (for example). And guess what I write? All of the above.

As I may have mentioned, I’m waiting to see if Patreon will hold the line if new anti-porn measures are enacted, and whether I’ll literally have to leave the country if they’re serious about jailing pornographers. It’s a little challenging to face into those headwinds and make any progress.

But I will be trying to re-establish my writing rhythm next week. Now that I have finished physical therapy for my knee, I should turn that into writing time, right? Instead of having to haul my ass to the PT gym, I’ll just haul my laptop into my lap without even getting out of bed, and try to put down a thousand words before I even put socks on.

Also, now that most of the production work on the DGC relaunch and the serial set-up are done. I do need to remind myself that those things were taking up the same creative hours that I would have spent on Windmark.

Dragons, I’ll get back to you shortly!

Tour Dates & Upcoming Appearances

2025:

  • January 17-20: Arisia, Cambridge, MA (new hotel: Hyatt Cambridge)
  • January 30, 8pm “How to Write a Sex Scene” Class: online for Passionate Ink
  • February 2, 2-4pm: Lovestruck Books, Cambridge, MA
  • February 6-9: Capricon, Chicago, IL
  • March 19-23: ICFA, Orlando, FL
  • June 2025: Daron’s Guitar Chronicles Pride Release Tour (details TBA)
  • June 25-29: SABR 54 in Dallas, TX
  • July 17-20: Readercon, Burlington, MA (Guest of Honor)
  • August 13-17: Worldcon in Seattle, WA
  • September 25: Writing Bisexual Erotica: online for Passionate Ink

    NOTE: ICFA and Capricon are back on the 2025 schedule!

  • Also: the new romance bookstore in Harvard Square will be opening soon! Lovestruck Books has been building out a gorgeous space where Church St. intersects Brattle St. They’d been hoping to have an event with me and some other local writers in mid-December, but the construction isn’t quite done yet. So we’re looking to reschedule to February 2. Check their website for updates!

 More About Readercon

As I mentioned on social media and in newsletter, I’ll be a Guest of Honor at Readercon this year. July 17-20 in the Boston area. They’re taking panel suggestions until the end of December (https://readercon.org/contribute) and they’re collecting written appreciations (or roasts…) of the guests of honor now. Let them know if you would like to write one (250 to 1,000 words) by January 1st, and you have until March 31 to deliver it!

Let’s End with a Book Recommendation

I get sent a lot of books to “blurb.” Publishers and authors really rely on the testimonials of praise from other authors to say things about a book they can’t say themselves. After all, if the publisher just prints “This book is effin great, just buy it,” on the back cover, the reader is going to think well, sure you would say that, you’re the publisher.

But if they see a quote from an author they like saying “No really, this is great!” it carries a lot more weight.

Usually the art of crafting a blurb means you have to come up with a way to say “this is great” that is unique and punchy and clever. You want to say something truthful and specific, but not give away spoilers. Doing blurbs also means getting a sneak peek at not-yet-published books.

But a lot of the time I don’t actually have time to give a blurb. I want to actually read the book, you know?

Well, I got sent a book to blurb recently and I’m now at something of a loss for what to say because what I think is “THIS BOOK IS EFFIN GREAT, JUST BUY IT.”

The book is Lee Mandelo’s latest anthology, AMPLITUDES: STORIES OF QUEER AND TRANS FUTURITY and it it just packed with awesome. I haven’t even read every story in the book, yet, because now that I tore through about half of them I’ve been slowing down to savor them.

There are 22 stories in the book, nearly 100K words, and my intention when I sat down to give a blurb was to cherry-pick the stories by authors I know (Sam J. Miller, Meg Elison, Sunny Moraine and others …) but I found myself just starting at the beginning and then being unable to put it down.

These stories are science fiction so sharp you could cut yourself. The strength of the collection showcases not only what a terrific editor and anthologist Lee is, but how much trans, queer, and nonbinary talent there is in the genre, and what vital stories these voices bring. There’s a LOT of resistance and revolution and joy in this book, and seems like we’re going to need it.

I know it’s a bit unfair to tell you how great a book is when it’s not even going to be published for months, but you can pre-order it (Amazon, Bookshop).

Okay, that’s enough of my blather. Next newsletter we’ll be in 2025. I’m sure there’ll be things to say about it then.

Until then, take care, if you have loved ones in reach, hug em, and I’ll see ya in the new year.

-ctan

Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

Yeah, so… biggest news of the week is that corwin and I got married.

You might be surprised to find that, given all the romance I’ve written, I considered myself “anti-marriage.”

I’ve never been anti-love, of course. I’ve always been a fan of soulmates finding each other. It was just “marriage” that made me itch.

When I was a teenager I rebelled against most things that required me to perform femininity. So I never fantasized about wedding dresses or diamond rings or being a bride. (I fantasized about swordfighting and bonding with dragons and piloting a starship.) By my twenties, I didn’t want to participate in any institution that my same-sex coupled friends were barred from.

By my thirties, gay weddings were becoming fashionable but not yet legal, and I was against the state having a say in my relationships.

But then same-sex marriage was legalized here in Massachusetts, the first state to do so, in 2004, thanks to a decision by our supreme court. My city, Cambridge, flung open the doors to City Hall at midnight, sat a marriage clerk right in the lobby, and started welcoming couples in. Hundreds of people gathered outside to cheer every time a newly married couple emerged from the building.

That’s the City Hall where corwin and I got married this week.

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

Bright colored booklets that say Duck Day 2024 with a small brass key dangling from each one.

Duck Day 2024: Foods & Dishes You Can’t Get Anymore

Here we go, our annual Thanksgiving gourmet cooking extravaganza, in which we make no turkey, but do make duck. Each year with a different theme.

This entire menu came about because when we sat down to plan this year’s theme and looked into our notes for recipe ideas, one said “choco taco” and another said “numb nuts ice cream sundae.”

You might think that meant we wanted to do all frozen confections, but no… the common thread that connects those two dots is “Foods you can’t get anymore.”

The ChocoTaco was infamously discontinued in 2022, more on that later. “Numb nuts” were one of the bar snacks we often enjoyed at a restaurant called Night Market, which had been a terrific but somewhat short-lived (2014-2019) place in Harvard Square. At Night Market, chef Jason Tom plied his jazzy takes on Asian street foods in a tiny street-art decorated basement space that made it feel like a fried-rice speakeasy.

I’ve often recreated a few of Night Market’s standards at home, including their sweet kaya toast served with a raw egg yolk swimming in soy sauce. (This reminds me I have yet to try making their “Lik’Em Stik”, which was rice balls served with a “dip” of tasty bits that included black beans, fried garlic, and other stuff—maybe crunchy soy beans? maybe chili crisp? tiny dried shrimp?—I’m not sure exactly what was in it and this may be part of why I haven’t yet tried to recreate it.)

Anyway. We all know that yearning for a dish we can’t get anymore. This menu is an homage to restaurants we miss.

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

I continue to be gobsmacked at how quickly the patreon jumped up over the past week! We’re now only $29 short of the monthly goal that will trigger the serialization of Bound by the Blood, the first book in my long-long-long awaited “BDSM meets sex magic in modern NYC” paranormal romance series.

(UPDATE: WE HAVE REACHED GOAL! AND the serialization has begun over on Patreon. See all chapters that have been posted: https://www.patreon.com/collection/886649?view=condensed)

To encourage folks to get us to the goal, I’m posting a sample chapter here! Now, you’d think I would post this on Patreon itself, BUT they have a rule that says if there’s anything naughty, it has to stay behind the paywall. So I’m posting it on my regular ol’ blog(s).

Enjoy!

Let’s start with the night I met Clive—boots laced up, my corset cinched, and a bag of whips on my shoulder. I’ll start somewhere you might recognize: a nightclub with an upstairs dance floor. The city is full of clubs like it—a thousand different vibes to suit a thousand different crowds. Upscale, downtown, psychedelic, cyberpunk, Bollywood, cowgirl, you name it.

A shirtless man would grab my attention in any of them, but especially in Purgatory.

Before I saw him, I had been asking myself why the hell I was there. The place was goth, but once a month the dance floor turned into a dungeon. People go to these places—all of these places—to hook up. Not just for sex. People go to bars when they’re lonely, when they’re looking for connection.

I wasn’t ready for connection. Not so soon after severing ties with Ethan. But there I was, anyway.

Clive—I didn’t know that was his name yet—was standing by the empty deejay booth, looking comfortable in his bare skin. A typical darkwave dance-trance playlist was on, but that night was for a different sort of dance. Two leathermen had been flogging a third on the St. Andrew’s cross, but they were mostly done, just running their hands up and down his bare back and buttocks. One of them snapped the elastic waistband of his thong and all three of them laughed. A witchy long-haired androgyne smiled in their direction and then glided down the stairs. A few mixed-gender couples nursed drinks at the tall cocktail tables along the far wall. It was early, not yet crowded, and the spanking bench and other play stations were empty…

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

I sent out my email newsletter in the wee hours this morning, and in this post I’m going to expand on some things I said in it. (Because even 12 hours later, some things already need updating!)

“Pornography should be outlawed. The people who produce and distribute it should be imprisoned.”

These are the literal words in Project 2025, the ultra-conservative blueprint for America that the Trump administration admitted yesterday they have been planning to use all along.

There are so many things I’d rather be writing about right now. There are dozens of fights for our rights we’ll need to have in the coming year, but since I am an erotica writer, I’ll stay in my lane for the moment and concentrate on the Project 2025 Porn Ban. Yes, it’s real. As Newsweek reports, it’s “a key agenda item in Project 2025.”

You might think in the wake of 50 Shades that BDSM is just accepted everywhere, and with the success of Sarah J. Maas’s ACOTAR and fantasy/romantasy books with a lot of “spice” in them, that whether something has sex in it is no big deal now. But this is not the case. It’s already more difficult to sell and publish erotic writing than any other genre, because it’s already against the ToS to promote erotic writing on Facebook or Google Ads. B&N just did a purge of erotic ebooks. Amazon regularly figures out what the hot erotic trend is and then suppresses it in search (as they did with bigfoot erotica, dinosaur porn, stepbrothers, and so on).

With Project 2025, they won’t just shut down sites like PornHub. They want to scrub sex-related content from all American life, which means increased pressure on Amazon and Patreon and Barnes & Noble to sanitize themselves—which they’ve already been doing! These efforts will only intensify.

But if you think wellllll maybe we can live without some smut, remember, for Project 2025 folks, “banning porn” doesn’t just mean going after the explicit “X-rated” material. It also means anything with queer or trans content, because to them, any representation of queerness is obscene.

But those of us who do write explicitly erotic material (as usual) will be the first to go. They’ve said in plain words that people like me belong in jail for what we write. If you don’t agree, and you believe we have the right to write about sex, and the right to read about it as well, now is the time to support your erotica writing friends as best you can, whether that is by buying their books or supporting their crowdfunds, or in reviewing, posting, and talking about their books, or even just posting an encouraging word to them!

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from Cecilia Tan.

Thinky Thoughts: Let’s Talk About Fear

Welcome to the spookiest month of the year! I figure this is a great time for some thinky thoughts about fear—specifically how crucial fear is in erotic fiction. For me, at least.

I was a fraidy cat as a child. I was one of those kids who would see Godzilla on television and then not be able to get to sleep for weeks, because I was convinced that Godzilla was definitely coming out of the sea that very night to step on our house. Or that space aliens were coming to kidnap me. Or whatever other horrible thing I could imagine.

What was extra-confusing to my parents is that things other kids were afraid of—like talking to adults, or jumping into the deep end of swimming pool, or snakes—didn’t bother me at all. My mom talked to the school psychologist about it and was told that “gifted” kids with vivid imaginations were prone to such terrors.

Tell her it’s just her imagination, they said. That went okay, I guess, when the reason I couldn’t sleep was my fear of “giant germs that could come through walls.” (No idea where I got that idea from…Star Trek, maybe? Or Space 1999?)

The “just your imagination” strategy failed, though, when …

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from cecilia tan.

Mockups of the book cover shown on a tablet and a paperback. Cover is dark with gold lettering reading The Blossoms of Summer, with exotic flowers painted entwined with the letteringAvailable for purchase almost anywhere books are sold, including:

The Blossoms of Summer

by Cecilia Tan

An erotic steampunk adventure novella, told in epistolary fashion, through letters and diary entries.

A botanist travels by airship beyond the known lands of Canton in search of breathtaking beauty and finds himself seduced by his exotic discoveries.

Botanist Robert Meriweather has been tasked by the Continental Occident Company to travel beyond the known lands of Canton to search for the “forbidden flowers,” specimens of such breathtaking beauty that the mere sight has caused men to forsake their homelands. Robert’s orders are to bring these blossoms back to England, where all of society’s rewards—and his betrothed, Livia—await him.

Robert soon finds himself on an unexpectedly erotic adventure, in which he must abandon all his Victorian social moires to succeed in his mission. But he will never abandon Livia and his dream of marrying her as a gentleman of standing!

Paperback: $9.99 ISBN: 978-1-963897-16-6
Ebook: $2.99

 

 

 

Mirrored from cecilia tan.

I started drafting this entry while traveling in the UK. And while I am a “native English speaker,” I’m an American, and so hearing the English speak English always comes with some wee disconnects in my brain.

For one thing, posh British accents are so often used in Hollywood to indicate villainy. Have you noticed that? I’m not sure how much of that is the historical reliance on all those theater-trained British actors to play the heavy, and how much is a kind of Revolutionary War holdover here in the former colonies?

This was in my mind when we went to see some Shakespeare at The Globe: a production of Richard III with an all-female/AFAB cast which characterized RIII as a Trumpian womanizer. (“When you’re king, they just let you do it.”) I quite enjoyed the cognitive dissonance of the cross-gendered casting and the way it highlighted the theme of the many female characters in the story opposing him. But I had to remind myself that the British accent wasn’t one of the affectations to make Richard seem even more evil!

The other thing is that so much British English sounds, well, vaguely smutty? I think maybe that’s because so much of the British English that survives in American carries with it a kind of Victorian repression or understatement in it, where non-dirty words are used to stand in for the vulgar ones. The result is that sometimes a station announcement on the Tube produced snickers from not only me, but also, for example, drunk Australians. (“Cockfosters…! Wherezzat!”)

You could play erotic Mad Libs with the names on the National Rail. “He dropped his Hassocks to reveal Burgess Hill. Her Hayward Heath tingled.”

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from cecilia tan.

A black and gold promo banner that reads An Erotic Epistolary Tale, starting August 1 on Patreon

So….. I’ve been threatening to start publishing some erotic fiction over on my Patreon for a while now and I’m finally organized enough to get it going.

As a kind of test run before we do anything longer, I’m going to start with an erotic steampunk adventure entitled The Blossoms of Summer, which is an epistolary tale of an airship adventure told through a brave adventuring botanist’s letters and diary entries.

It’ll run every day for six days, starting on August 1.

Here’s the official description that will go on the book, which will launch after the serial runs:

Botanist Robert Meriweather has been tasked by the Continental Occident Company to travel beyond the known lands of Canton to search for the “the Blossoms of Summer,” secret and hidden specimens of such breathtaking beauty that the mere sight has caused men to forsake their homelands. Robert’s orders are to bring these “forbidden flowers” back to England, where all of society’s rewards—and his betrothed, Livia—await him.

Robert soon finds himself on an unexpectedly erotic adventure, in which he must abandon all his Victorian social moires to succeed in his mission. But he will never abandon Livia and his dream of marrying her as a gentleman of standing.

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from cecilia tan.

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