SO many good news things to share with you! 1: I’m over a 7 day headache! My chiropractor snapped my neck like he was out to murder me, but it was in fact the cure! Huzzah! I blame the ants from that horrible airbnb for causing me so much distress. I’ve sent them them the bill, but they are in fact insects and don’t have money. GET A JOB, ANTS!!  2: I got TWO MASSIVE BOXES of paperbacks for Tasting Red in! *whips out signing pen* so if you are waiting on your signed paperback, I am working on it right meow. RIGHT MEOW MEOW!(didn’t order a signed paperback but want too? Get it HERE ) 3: We have NEW CHARACTER ART and I’m obbbbbseeesssssed!!!!!You might have already met Red, Goldie, and Cinder but if you haven’t, let me introduce you to the Lost Girls who work at the Poison Apple. The hot humans-only bar is run by no-nonsense Rap (aka Rapunzel) who sports a mohawk. I think I need her portrait done next….

Excerpt from

Tasting Red
Meet the Lost Girls

As soon as I enter, I see why my best friend didn’t respond. Goldie races back and forth, taking drink orders along with my other friend and co-worker, Cinder. People crowd in, shoulder to shoulder at the bar, vying for attention. I can’t even get a glimpse of the ornate onyx and warm wood bar.

Gold and glass liquor shelves reach up three stories behind where Cinder and Goldie rush back and forth, slinging bottles, and sliding drinks to the thirsty crowd. A low golden light emanates off the display, casting everyone in a flattering, seductive glow. The glass ceiling is vaulted even higher to accommodate the massive oak tree growing inside the building. Long, majestic limbs spread out over numerous blood-red tufted couches and standing bar tables. Fairy lights and lamps decorate the tree, making for a romantic, magical effect, though this is a humans-only bar.

The second Goldie dragged me in here for an interview four months ago, I wanted to run right the fuck back out. I’d never had a job before and working in such a packed, grand space intimidated the unholy hell out of me. I tried to tell the new friend I’d met in my sociology class that I’d work at the library. But Goldie insisted I would love it and that it would be good for me.

After Goldie gushed to the owner, Rap, over how she would teach me everything, Rap agreed I fit the aesthetic and hired me on the spot. She waved us off to get started that very night.

After an embarrassing number of broken glasses, and several heart-wrenching cry fests in the stock closet, I did eventually learn. And Goldie had been there the entire time, assuring me that I needed to give myself time to learn and that I was doing great. Cinder also came to my rescue on more than one occasion, with her quiet confidence and endless patience.

Slowly but surely, I broke out of my shell. The more people I served and talked to, the more confident I got. I dressed to match Goldie and Cinder’s aesthetic, and we became known as the lost girls. While we work fluidly and effortlessly with each other, we are untouchable. Our reputation as the lost girls took such a hold that Goldie made us shirts. She insists our slogan is “unfuckablewith,” but we came to agree that was still a work in progress.

The running joke we pretend not to hear from some of the patrons is that we would make the ultimate threesome experience.

Watching my friends flow behind the bar, I take a moment to feel the deep appreciation I have for them. Where I come from, no one shows weakness. A mere drop of blood hits the water, and everyone usually rushes in to tear the meat off the bones.

Not these girls.