To Hate Love

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Chapter 26

“Liberty is worth more than ribbons,”

-George Orwell, Animal Farm

Any comfort that Roman’s touch offered me through the bond exited my body in one fell swoop. Dead. I should’ve seen it coming, many of the Alpha’s did see it coming and yet it shocks me nonetheless. Especially because Alpha Akeno was almost Roman and if Roman dies then that means I…

I gulp my feelings down and pull my hand out from under Romans, cradling it under the warmth of Roman’s suit, wishing he never came back from that training bearing bad news. “What does this mean now?” I croak out, the dejection I feel so strongly shining through my words.

“Its not good.” His crestfallen face only supports his statement. “He was an honourable man, devoted to the goddess and I truly believe he wanted what was best for everyone, he wanted to leave this world a better place and now…” he says and I turn to him with a mimicked expression. It’s a harrowing thought, death but what is even more harrowing is my insensitivity towards it. Where I would once be a blubbering mess if I even heard of someones pet dying I now can’t form tears over a live man. I guess that is what conditioning does to a person.

“I didn’t realise you were close with him,” I comment and he nods grimly.

“My father sent me to his pack to be trained shortly after Diana, he couldn’t bear to look at me without doing somethings he’d later regret and mother…” that glossy, distant look fills his blue eyes again. “Alpha Akeno trained me for the most part of a year. He was a hard teacher that’s for sure but he was also kind, he taught me many things outside of being an Alpha and that I’ll never forget,”

It’d make sense that he would be austere when teaching, in fact I’d wager he’d be strict as an Alpha regardless. I suppose that’s where Romans appreciation comes from, he was given love when he needs it most from someone who didn’t have a lot to give.

“How is his mate?” I ask and he shakes his head.

“Luna Tsuki’s death is what alerted us. Alpha Nicholas must have had someone else kill him, or maybe the goddess was just being unforgiving… we’ll never know,” he sighs and as my heart wenches, my mind begins to turn. I wonder what that’ll mean for the Luna’s, now that their unofficial guider is gone will they continue their support in a balance of power? Or will the little progression we’ve made go even further back? The thoughts alone are enough to make an ache slice through my skull.

Romans deep frown pulls me back and I register the turmoil brewing in his eyes. I place a hand on his shoulder, the action utterly cumbersome but its intention pure. “Are,” my words come out scratchy and I gulp, “are you alright?”

His blue eyes fixate on mine and flick down to my lips, the action enough for me to pull my hand away. “I’m fine,” he mummers, a stock standard response he has had to churn out on many occasions, I’m sure.

Someone can only be so tough, take so much burden and pain before they crumble completely, shattering into pieces that no amount of glue will fix. I wonder how far he is from shattering.

“What does this mean for us?” I ask with caution, not liking the idea of imposing my own agenda while he is in mourning but the lives of too many people depend on my obtruding for me to not at least try.

“There will be a conference with the King, I think it’d be best if you sat this one out. The invite was extended only to me and a few of Akeno’s friends from different ranks,” he explains and although the thought of missing out on more important information irks me I subdue my urges with a firm nod.

“That’s understandable,” I comment, biting down onto my lower lip, “what do you think this means for Alpha Nicholas? Will he try to…” The burning sensation of that poison spreading like fire across my body flashes in my memory and Roman’s soft gaze hardens.

“I don’t know what this means for Alpha Nicholas, not yet. I’d wager that Akeno’s son yearns for revenge and unless Nicholas yields…” he lets out a clenched sigh “we can’t tell anyone about his attempt on your life.” He says firmly, assessing me as I frown.

“Why?” I ask and the hard crevices of his muscles tighten.

“I should have told the council about my suspicions the second you were placed in the hospital bed. The other Alpha’s might blame us for not warning them of Alpha Nicholas’ behaviour. It’s not me I’m worried about them being angered at-I can take the heat- but the last thing we need us more distrust directed at you,” he says but he may as well have just answered with three words that summarised his entire monologue. For your protection.

I don’t voice my response and instead just nod, watching as his chest caves with a deep exhale. He runs his hands through his hair and rests his chin on his closed knuckles, slouching over. “I should have told them,” he whispers brusquely, those ten out walls he maintains at all costs crumbling down.

“He knew the risks,” I say, a futile attempt at comfort but one nonetheless. My cradling words of sympathy seem to have slowly erased from my brain as time progressed, each horror taking with it another feeling.

Roman doesn’t meet my somewhat concerned gaze and stares out at the rose bush in front of us. “You were right,” he says, his voice as empty as I’ve ever heard it.

“What?” I press but his void gaze on the scenery in front of us doesn’t falter.

“When you said the moon goddess was punishing me you were right,” he gulps inconspicuously to cover the slight break in his voice but I catch it.

I look away from his, my mind unable to registers any words to possibly respond to that. A taut silence forms between us.

“Diana, my parents, the humans, Akeno,” my heart tightens at the pain in his voice, leaving an extremely uncomfortable feeling settling throughout my body. His blue eyes snap over to mine and the thin sheath of unshed tears covering his eyes and I swear something inside me breaks a little at the sight.

You,” he finishes, his lips raised in the beginnings of a pout. He tilts his head back and his defined jaw glistens as he gulps again, trying to suppress something with his swallows.

“I’m trying to make it better, trying to fix what I did to upset the goddess and be the kind of mate you deserve. But I just don’t know what else I can do,” he closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh of frustration, “If I could let you go… maybe this would all go away, but I can’t. The goddess has given me a cost that is grater than the happiness and she has given you me.”

He lets out a dry laugh. “Here’s me droning on about my self pity when you are sat here stuck with a fucked up monster who won’t let you leave,”

Unease starts to swell in my stomach, overtaking the nagging urge I have to comfort him and as if sensing it, he looks back at me with softened eyes. “Sorry- I didn’t mean to,” he huffs again, his bulky body moving with the action. “It wasn’t my intention to unload on you like that. I should go,” he concludes, any hint of tears swiftly removed as he stands up abruptly.

“Roman,” I begin, my voice a near whisper but his hardened self doesn’t feed into it.

“I’ll be back late tonight. You might want to send one of the guards to get you a blanket, unless you are heading back yourself, it gets pretty cold quick out here,” he says and then turns, walking away and leaving me in an intermission of complete silence until a guard comes out offering a thick wooly robe.

I don’t head back inside for quite sometime.


I let the droplets of water fall onto me as I stand bare underneath eh golden showered, my body finding comfort in the steam that surrounds me. I know what it’s like to repress emotion down so deep that to the world you seem normal, passive, fine. When you truly are anything but.
Every time I see a young couple playing with their young child, a middle aged mother scolding a teen I have to bite down that feeling of emptiness that emerges. Stitch up the gaping hole that growing up not having the chance to even know what that might’ve been like creates over and over again.

When I see a book and my mind jumps to how Lucy might enjoy that once she finishes the Harry Potter series it feels like, for a fleeting moment, every inch of myself that I have tried to stick together wants to crumble to the ground.

My bottom lip quivers and I wipe at my eyes, even through the steady stream of warm water washes away my tear stained cheeks. I don’t want to open that can of worms. I can’t. Sometimes it’s better to just bottle things up and hope that they’ll fade away into nothing. People who say otherwise usually don’t have a lot to bottle away.

I dry myself down with a thick white towel and let it absorb all remnant of my dark thoughts under the scorching water. Sliding on some comfortable pants and a cotton shirt, I walk back into the room and slide under the duvet, relishing in the comfort of the mattress. It must be getting late now, yet Roman still hasn’t returned.

Knowing I won’t be able to sleep until he comes back and I can at least check to see if he isn’t completely cut up like before, I pick up the book resting on my nightstand and indulge myself in a fantasy world. Each splotch of ink draws me further in and I loose count of how many pages I turn over, letting my pupils devour the text like it was a meal made especially for me.

“Maeve?” I nearly jump out my skin, the page I am on hanging loosely to my fingertips-thank god. “Are you not tired?” He asks and I place a bookmark between the text, closing the leather covered novel and giving him my weary attention.

“I was waiting for you,” I say and regret crosses his face but just as he is about to respond his nose crinkles and his head snaps towards the dresser. In particular the plate of cookies sat atop it, probably room temperature by now.

“Did you make those?” He asks me instantly and a small smile tugs on the corner of my lip but I wipe it away.

“I thought after today it might… I dunno, make you feel better,” I point out, my words anything but poetic. But the look in Roman’s eyes, the defeated glance and shimmering appreciation tells me he thought I recited damn Shakespeare.

“Thank you,” he says, every ounce of emotion he can muster supporting the validity of his words.

“It was nothing-”

“It means a lot to me, truly.” He repeats, the solidity in his eyes making me cave and give up on trying to be modest.

He walks over to the dresser and bites into a cookie, his tight back falling loose as he undresses, ready for bed. I don’t say anything as he strips down, biting into another cookie because I fear if I do then one of us will break, the emotion bubbling in the room so tight.

I’d be lying if I said my hand wasn’t clenched in my fist to stop the urge to reach out and guide him towards the bed. I crave his touch more than anything, I crave some sort of solace from whatever grief now rummages through the vacant draws in my mind, pulling out old memories like they are scattered on polaroids. And I know he craves it too.

He flicks the light off and my heart beat accelerates as his whereabouts are concealed in the dark, only slowing to a normal pace when my outstretched hand glides over the smooth contours of Roman’s abs, his warmth drawing me in like a moth to a flame. His muscled arm pulls me closer and cocoons around me as I snuggle myself further into his chest, letting calm wash over me once the sparks subdue.

“You are a kind soul, Maeve. I envy it in you but you deserve to be given praise for it,” he says and I don’t honestly know how to answer to his compliment, the action so foreign to me I simply can’t respond.

“How did the meeting go?” I ask instead, pressing the side of my face into his chest and letting the heat spread across my cheeks.

A short silence drifts through the dark. “Alpha Akeno’s son has taken over his fathers title. Listening to him today it… it wasn’t easy to hear his pain. I just hope that he can overcome it,” he says and my heart lurches for the children of the dead Alphas.

I don’t know why, but again my mind turns to my parents death and all the hurt and confusion it rained down on me. How they must be feeling… I gulp and Roman shifts underneath me.

“Maeve? Are you alright?” He asks and I bite down on my lip to stop it from quivering. I don’t want to think about it.

“Maeve?” He asks again and I move up, placing a hand on his chest before bringing my lips down onto his, letting that sugary sweetness coat my taste buds. A rumble sounds through his chest, close to a pur, a primitive sound.

I lift my mouth from his lips and gingerly kiss along his jaw, my hand gliding over the creases of his muscles. “Maeve,” he says lowly, though lust shines through his words. I don’t want to think. No thinking, just for a moment, for a brief pause. I deserve this. I deserve some kind of damned escape.

“No,” I mumble into his lips and deepen the kiss, sliding my leg atop his and climbing over his body gently so I straddle his waist.

If the cool droplets of my hair trickling down onto his abdominal muscles bother him he doesn’t mention it. Instead, his large hands grip my hips, gliding around my waist and pulling my into him to gain better access to my mouth. The thoughts of my family drift away, becoming morsels of memories in my mind as the euphoria of the bond clouds overhead. I know Roman is doing the same, both of us as entirely to blame as the other.

Roman lets out a low growl of approval as my hands filter through his black locks and in one swift movement he twists us over, hovering atop me with a lust filled look in his eyes. His mouth moves to my neck, finding that spot like it is a shining beacon in the moonlit room and I gasp as a shudder of pleasure ripples through my body, shocking me down to my core. His lips move towards my mouth and I try to guide his head back to my neck but he captures my lips first, demanding entry and getting no refusal from me.

Everything about his primal dominance makes me want to feel him more, run my hands across each square inch and unwrap the present that the goddess decided I should have. His body moves further into mine and his lips resume their quest to explore my skin, tenderly leaving kisses trailing across my body.

When his lips connect over that spot on my neck once more I don’t surprise the gasp that escapes my mouth, making a low rumble of approval reverberate off his warm silken skin.

His hand glides through underneath my shirt but comes to a halt below my uncovered breast, his warm hands simply warming my skin. I groan into his mouth and move my hand over his, pulling it upwards with urgency but Romans hand snaps away and he rolls off from on top of me, laying back down on his side of the bed as I regain my breath.

In a flash, just like that everything goes back to normal, the thoughts in my mind cease but at what cost? “Lets not move too fast, not unless you are actually willing. I do not wish to take advantage of you,” he says, his words clipped and professional, anything but what pillow talk should be.

“I think it was the other way around,” I admit, my conscious morals not allowing me to let him wrongfully pile this on top of his already impending list of guilt issues.

“We were both in need of comfort. It isn’t anyones fault,” a tense silence forms between us as we both rethink what just happened. “If you are sad and wish for help through the bond just say and we can… we can cuddle?” He phrases his proposal as though he is unsure of the very word ‘cuddle’ and the meaning of cooperative comfort it alludes to.

“Okay,” I mummer, unable to really say much else, my mind still reeling.

Roman doesn’t feed any further into the conversation and merely snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me to his chest, settling his head in my neck and heaving out a large breath. His hold gives me comfort but it takes me a while to fall asleep, even after Romans breaths turn slow and heavy.


My lids lift lethargically, like I’ve just come crashing down from a drug induced high and I push myself up on the mattress, glancing at Roman who pulls me closer in to his chest with a rumble. The sun has began to peer in through the thin curtains and a light breeze filters through the air. The maids must have already come in and taken the linen this morning and opened it.
The housekeeping here move around like mice, impossible to detect and utterly efficient in their jobs. I guess even they sensed the complied tension hanging in the room and I’ll admit I am more than thankful for the soft breeze filtering through. I push against Roman’s chest and his arms wrap tighter around me in his subconscious state, like a large child unwilling to be separated from its toy.

I push again and his eyelids flutter open, peering down at me with a tired confusion. “Your crushing me,” I whisper and just like that his hold dissipates, allowing me to wriggle out of his hold and lie in my own space.

“Sorry,” Romans mumbles, turning on to his back and closing his eyes once more, resting for a few seconds before getting out with a groan, stretching his tight back muscles. “We should probably get ready, I’ll take first shower,” he says and picks up his sleek phone from the side table, rubbing his eyes as he moves sluggishly to the bathroom, flicking through messages.

“Don’t take too long,” I command and he looks up from his phone, staring at my body that is cocooned in the duvet, snuggled up in a tight ball.

His lip raises ever so sloughy at the corner. “I won’t.”

He retreats into the bathroom and I push myself further into the bed as the shower turns on, wishing that smothering myself with the blanket will shove away what I did last night. A moment of weakness. A stupid, reckless moment of weakness that I shouldn’t have done but I think I knew that at the time. I knew I shouldn’t have sought a brief moment of solace from Roman but I did it anyway.

Maybe I shouldn’t feel bad, maybe taking advantage of a bond that has taken so much from me is fair. Or maybe it’s not. Maybe whatever I’ve been through is meant to hurt me as much as it does. Punish me like the goddess does Roman.

Although I’d never admit it to him, I’m thankful that he stopped us from continuing. He could have taken advantage of me then and there and I don’t know if I’d care enough to stop him until it was too late. He had so much more to gain from our position last night than me, the loss of his virginity for a start. Which surprises me, for someone with no experience he certainly knows what to do, how to behave, I mean. I guess it comes naturally for wolves, or maybe he has had some kind of sexual encounter.

Jealousy sparks in my chest and I push it down, shaking the thought from my head. He could have secured an heir, even if we never had sex again I could have fell pregnant and then he’d be much better off than he is now. I shake that thought from my head too, getting rid of the tears that gloss over my eyes with the shame that seems to constantly strive to eat me alive.

I lift the duvet and climb out from the bed, concluding that I will try to see a professional health expert at the earliest opportunity I can. One that I can trust won’t recall everything I tell them too Roman, of course.

I trudge over to the open balcony, past the drifting curtains and onto the ledge, resting my hands on the woven steel. The gardens that stretch out before turning into the natural landscape, followed by that endless blue sea makes me close my eyes. My jaw clinches as I let out a deep breath. It’s beautiful here, no free and open and away from the palace back home but they are both one of the same. Different pins on a map that mean the exact same thing. All I’ve done is trade one beautiful prison for one that offers a glimmered guise of a better life but is, in all truth, the exact same.

It is a lovely place though and despite it being entirely over the top I find it somewhat fitting that this is my ceremony present. A place that reeks freedom for a bite that ensures I’ll never have it.

I open my eyes and move back through the French doors, the shower still going. My hands reach the wooden handle of the dresser and I decide to gather my clothes for when I finally get a turn to use the shower.

I slide the dresser draw open and my eyes move over the many undergarments. Something neutral is probably nest for today, in the case that I decide to wear a white shirt it’d be best. A thin black leather string pokes out from behind a set of blue lace underwear and I frown. What kind of shit is Roman actually trying to pull? I grip it with my hand and pull it, expecting some exotic type of lingerie that I can throw right into that smug pricks face to pop out. Instead, a wooden pendant attached to a look of the string flies out.

I drop the object like it burns my hand, my hand moving over my mouth to stifle a gasp as the same type of pendant Noah showed me stares at me. It’s different through, far more ancient in its markings and holding a meaning that I have no idea how to interpret. A child? My brows knit together and I look back at the open curtains, my heart nearly stopping in my chest. No.

Someone was here. Not the maids coming to take linen but someone with a motive. A hunter. How on earth they managed to get past Roman I have no clue. I rummage through the draw again, searching for something, anything that will help me make sense of this and all I find is a small piece of paper.

But a piece of paper that was definitely not there before.

I pull it out hurriedly and if my heart didn’t stop before it most definitely does now.


-George Orwell, Animal Farm

Animal Farm. My bottom lip quivers and I clutch tighter onto the necklace and the note. It’s like I’ve been transported back to that little bookshop on the city edge, tumbling over at the sight of an emerald eyed army man with a smile larger than life. Ollie. My Ollie.

I didn’t even realise the shower turned off until the bathroom door handle jiggles and I shove the note and necklace into my pocket. Roman emerges and pauses in the threshold, body wrapped in a towel.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, and I suddenly remember why I resent the way he picks up on my emotions so easily.

“Did anyone come in here this morning? My underwear draw is full,” I point out and he nods.

“Yeah, the maids came in and did a few things this morning but I paid them no mind. I can tell them not to come in whilst we occupy the room but it won’t matter that much anyway,” he says and I shoot him a perplexed look.

“Why?” I ask and he walks over to his own dresser.

“I got a message about Akeno’s funeral this morning and it’d be best if we returned home anyway. We’ll only be staying in France for a couple more nights and then we’ll go to the funeral on the way home. Its a slight detour in our schedule but the stay will only last a couple weeks at maximum and we will be given an office there to work from,” he informs as he rummages though his own clothes, no signs of notes or necklaces coming out. Only shirts.

“Weeks?” I ask and he nods.

“The ceremony will last a week at most but I’ll be assisting Akeno’s son with a few things to help his transition into leadership. It’s the least I can do,” he concludes and the remnants of Ollie’s message, delivered by some underground maid feels like a brick in my pocket.

“Well I’m going to have a shower so I’ll meet you in the office,” I say, moving towards the bathroom with as much cool as I can.

“See you there,” he mummers, completely unaware that I am as close to shattering as I’ve ever been.

authors note

This isn’t a pity party, I swear, but I am tired AF all the damn time and I keep nearly fainting but turns out its bc of an issue that just can’t be solved! So great! I’m really sorry about the late update though and I will try to get Sundays out on time lol.

Thoughts on the chapter?

Alsoooo, as promised…. a q & a !!!

For those of you who don’t follow me on instagram, here are the answers to all of the questions I received :)

Im going to go nap now,



Wouldn’t you like to know….


I would love nothing more than to be a writer full time and just write epic stories that virtually entertain me as a job but the practicalities get in the way of that. It seems like a pipe dream at this point, but even if I’m not some big shot writer I think I’ll still continue dedicating my free time to the written world. I will give it a go though! Aim high, live as a starving artist for a few years, maybe travel and who knows? Maybe it’ll all work out.


ALL THE TIME. Aha, I’d love to publish my books one day, just like most writers but I think with my books now, they are happy on Wattpad and Inkitt for people to enjoy for free. Maybe one day I’ll publish them and change a few things up (EDIT LIKE HELL) and then keep the OG version online for those who don’t have access to be able to pay for books.


The answer to this question changes like everyday, but I’d have to say right now it is A Little Life by Hanya Yanigihara. Just because it make me cry like crazy and I’m a sucker for books that get me emotionally involved. I’m currently reading ACOTAR at the minute tho and it is prettyyyy good. Having said that, after writing a book my perception has really changed as a reader and I tend to try and enjoy all books I read simply because I know how hard it is to write one!


I read others in the similar genre and honestly, I had always been a fan of paranormal books on Wattpad. Unfortunately, most books that I started on Wattpad got abandoned or something happened along those lines. They say write what you want to read, so I did.


The idea for this story had always been in my mind just sitting there but I never had the courage to actually start it. It was only when a friend of mine wrote a story and had the confidence to tell me about it that I actually took a step back and thought I could do it too. So its more of a who than a what but yeah, I have always been writing stories for myself on the down low. (they are horrible, but at the time I thought they were great)


Most of my inspirations actually come from music. I like to just plug in my headphones and go for a walk (usually on the way to school actually) and then a scene will play out in my head or I’ll get an idea. I’m also really inspired by my readers and some of the comments/theories they make as well as from other books that I read in terms of structure, prose etc.


I’d honestly say that my excitement to see where my creativity takes me is still 100% there, especially when it comes to how the plot forms and all the little things I’ve added start to come together. I wouldn’t exactly say it is the same kind of excitement however, simply because when I started this book I had literally no idea where the plot was going (well, I had some but it was dismal) and now that I have a pretty firm structure already set out, its different. As far as sharing it with people and getting their reactions, it’s kind of a double edged sword for me. On one hand I seriously love seeing how certain people are going to react (i full on like predict users reactions and its kinda crazy) because it is just awesome to see people get as hyped as me over the story and characters. On the other hand, however, that fear of reading negative comments or getting low key attacked makes me feel hesitant to even read comments at all. But for the most part, I still seriously enjoy reading peoples reactions and seeing how enthusiastic people get. This story is constantly in my mind and if its not this one then its another one (my 30% math grade can confirm this lol).


I have got a multitude of new projects lined up. There are so many stories in my mind, some of which I have started and others that are just ideas but I can definitely say that I have more projects coming that I am so excited to share! I’m mainly going to use my instagram platform to share hints and teasers for upcoming projects so look out there!


I knew questions for a spin off about the king would come! I honestly don’t know at this point but I think that it is always a possibility for the future. The guy has many years worth of stories to tell but it depends if his story is already told in TLH. I could definitely see a story come up in the future maybe, when TLH is all finished!


Honestly, I don’t have like specific actors in my mind as a dream cast. I think that IF it did ever happen (a pipe dream again), I’d like the cast to be actors who are true to the characters. Probably some straight out of drama school up and coming actors if I’m being real, there aren’t any like elite a-listers that I have in mind.


I am from Australia. The book however, is based in the US and a lot of the issues included do apply to what is occurring right now over there. Although, the ideas that are in TLH aren’t specific to one specific country and a lot of what I have included has taken place in some form all over the world since the dawn of time. Personally, I am really invested in politics, world issues, moral dilemmas, philosophies, religion etc. and I think that kinda comes out in my writing. To me, having an understanding on issues and being able to link them together and discuss them is so important. A lot of what I base my story on as well, I suppose, is history, because much of what is in the story has occurred before in some way (minus the paranormal element aha). The standpoint I am coming from is very much so middle ground and although there are certain messages I purposely try to communicate, I think I prefer to place ideas in for people to interpret/discuss in their own way. I hope that answers the question aha, there is a lot unpack when it comes to that and so hopefully I wasn’t too vague.


My writing process doesn’t follow a standard, plan book, write book type structure. My ideas and plans are really all over the place, yet somehow not? It’s weird, honestly, sometimes I like to plan ahead and other times, not. Writing on the platform that I do and producing the book chapter by chapter changes things up as well. For a chapter, I will usually write like a few dot points of what I want in the chapter and section it up initially, but eight times out of ten it takes a different path than what I plan. When I have no ideas, I usually listen to music to help me out or re-read parts of old chapters. And I cannot write when the door to my room is open, I have no problem writing in the car on the way to a soccer match, in my maths class or in public but if I’m in my room-doors just gotta be shut.


Not really, I think in that regard it is more like aspects of a person that I admire or someone that I have seen in history. None of my characters are solely based on people that I know personally, but I do draw inspiration from different people I know sometimes. Let’s just say there is a higher chance of a song I listen to creating a character than someone in my life.


This is really dependent on what is in the chapter and the difficulty of the point I’m trying to get across. As a general guide I can write two, four-thousand word chapters a week without massive struggle but it does change depending on life. There have been times where I leave writing to the last minute (being the procrastinator that I am) and then have no choice but to bust out a chapter in a day or sometimes even a few hours so it is doable, but I prefer to take my time. Also, I find that it depends if I get on a writing roll or if I am being constantly interrupted by people or just life in general.


Yes! I’ll admit that I haven’t really taken any major plot point from readers but there have definitely been times where someone puts out a ‘theory’ that is way better than what I had planned. Most of the time in that case I draw more inspiration rather than use the exact idea and whatever someone has said just sparks a different plot path. The initial plan I had for this book changed SO many times and a lot of that I can thank my readers for no question. But the general plot for the rest of TLH is already marked out pretty solid in my mind, its not all mayhem over here.

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