Parts 1 & 2 of my standalone dark romance novella Her Mercy are now live! Read this prequel to the River Reapers MC on its own, or as your appetizer for the series. Free when you join my email list!
🖤 Her Mercy Parts 1 & 2 are now live! 🖤
In case you missed it, I’ve been serializing my dark fake marriage romance Her Mercy on my website, free for all email subscribers.
This novella is a standalone prequel to the River Reapers series, and a little less dark than the main series. If you haven’t read it yet, now’s the perfect time!
what you can expect
standalone novella 📖
prequel to the River Reapers MC series 🖤
he’s 19 years older 😉
second chance romance spanning decades 💔
runaway bride 👰🏻♀️
SA survivor heroine 🙌🏼
wounded warrior biker hero 🎖
surprise baby (it’s not his) 🤰🏻
healing together ❤️🩹
quick read ⌛️
The last time Bree ran away, she put the love of her life Mercy in prison. Now that he’s out, he’s got to find her and convince her they belong together so they can both be free.
Bree has been running for decades. Every time she gets into trouble, the River Reapers MC covers her tracks. That’s how she met Mercy, the only man who’s ever loved her, and the reason she’s running again.
Mercy has an ache in his bones that not even freedom can soothe. When Bree disappeared, she put him in prison both metaphorically and physically.
Mercy needs to find Bree and reclaim the home they once found in each other. But Bree is still buckling under the weight of her own prison, and if Mercy doesn’t find her before her past does, she’ll disappear forever.
Catch Up on Part 1
Read part 2: The War Hero
Part 3 begins Tuesday, May 6th! Be sure to join my free email list so you don’t miss a chapter.
If you’re enjoying this serialized edition of Her Mercy, give this post a like! And if you’re excited for more River Reapers stories, give this post a like for that. 🖤
Music is a powerful tool. All of Mike’s concussion clinic providers are about 45 minutes away from our apartment—plus traffic. “Exhausted” is my baseline, but when he started having seizures, I took over as driver. It’s been good for me, in a sense, challenging me out of my comfort zone and into pushing myself a little bit more. But driving requires a lot of focus, which eats up a lot of my spoons—especially when I’m in a flare.
“Hit me with something high octane,” I beg Mike, passing him my phone. He puts on Kylesa, and it actually perks me up.
This isn’t the first time I’ve used music to set my own mood. I do it a lot when I’m writing, especially when writing dual POV romance. The two lead characters are often different as night and day, even down to the music I put on to get in their heads.
When I wrote Bree’s chapters for Her Mercy, I listened to a lot of Liela Moss’s My Name is Safe in Your Mouth. All of the songs on this album have a sad, romantic, nostalgic feel to them. There’s wisdom woven into the heartbreak, a constant thread of self-discovery. The novella is dual POV but the story is really driven by Bree; Mercy’s all in, it’s Bree who has to face and save herself.
The playlist for Her Mercy is shorter than the other books’ playlists, mostly because I listened to that Liela Moss album quite a bit. I kicked it off with Fleetwood Mac’s “Gypsy” to set the mood of the book. It’s pretty much the soundtrack to a then 14-year-old Bree having run away.
When she stumbles upon The Wet Mermaid and walks into the strip club, “American Woman” is playing. This song is required for all biker gatherings. I’m pretty sure it’s an unwritten rule. This is the first time Bree has a run-in with Bastard, and it won’t be the last.
As Mercy searches for Bree in the present, both of their past selves grapple with everything they know exploding.
Mercy struggles to believe the evil things his lifelong friend Bastard does, hoping to rescue him from the darkness before it swallows both of them and the club they built.
Bree is alone in the world, reeling after a shocking event that sent her running. She’s convinced Mercy and the others to let her stay, but she doesn’t really belong.
Not that she belongs anywhere or to anyone, not anymore.
To keep Bree safe from Bastard, Mercy pretends to marry her, making her forever off limits. But he can’t keep her safe from herself, no more than he can stop the fire burning inside him.
Being fake married only brings them closer. Bree’s balm soothes the pain in Mercy’s bones, and when he tells her the truth about Bastard, she urges him to take it to the MC’s table for a vote. Mercy knows she’s right, that Bastard can’t be allowed to hurt anyone else ever again, but it’s soul-crushing, accepting what his best friend’s become.
As everything comes to a head in the past, Mercy searches for Bree in the present. He’ll never break the vows he made to her, but she sure doesn’t make it easy.
Especially when she runs away again just as he closes in.
When they finally reunite, even though they have much to reconcile, it’s clear that they belong together.
It won’t be easy, but now that they’re together, they can heal the past and face the future.
Read Her Mercy
Ebook, serial, and paperback editions of Her Mercy are now available! Read serialized chapters for free on my website. All you need is a valid email address. You can also purchase the ebook or paperback through your favorite retailer.
Part 1 of my standalone dark romance novella Her Mercy is now live! Read this prequel to the River Reapers MC on its own, or as your appetizer for the series.
The last time Bree ran away, she put the love of her life Mercy in prison. Now that he’s out, he’s got to find her and convince her they belong together so they can both be free.
Bree has been running for decades. Every time she gets into trouble, the River Reapers MC covers her tracks. That’s how she met Mercy, the only man who’s ever loved her, and the reason she’s running again.
Mercy has an ache in his bones that not even freedom can soothe. When Bree disappeared, she put him in prison both metaphorically and physically.
Mercy needs to find Bree and reclaim the home they once found in each other. But Bree is still buckling under the weight of her own prison, and if Mercy doesn’t find her before her past does, she’ll disappear forever.
what you can expect
standalone novella 📖
prequel to the River Reapers MC series 🖤
he’s 19 years older 😉
second chance romance spanning decades 💔
runaway biker bride 👰🏻♀️
SA survivor heroine 🙌🏼
wounded warrior biker hero 🎖
surprise baby (it’s not his) 🤰🏻
healing together ❤️🩹
quick read ⌛️
Her Mercy, part 1: The Drifter
Part 2 begins April 8th! Be sure to join my free email list so you don’t miss a chapter.
If you’re enjoying this serialized edition of Her Mercy, give this post a like! And if you’re excited for more River Reapers stories, give this post a like for that. 🖤
Remember how I was teasing “exciting things coming”? Well, those exciting things are here!
Romance with a Body Count
Elizabeth Barone’s Reader Newsletter
Romanticizing the ugly, live reading to you, and turning you into a character
February 2025
💝 Happy month of love! 💝
Where I live, winter will be over… soon? Usually I spend this season miserable, not gonna lie. It’s cold, and when it gets cold, my joints get uncooperative. Then the depression kicks in, and the whole cycle starts all over again. This winter I’ve been determined to find things to fall in love with, and I’ve fallen hard. Here are a few of the things I’ve been romanticizing:
winter sunrises and sunsets
all the hot drinks
electric blankets
walking arm in arm
💬 What are you romanticizing lately? And while you’re at it, tell me where you’re at in the world, and what season it is for you!
writing updates
Sometimes, you just gotta kick it old school. I printed out a hard copy of Sleeve of Hearts and went to town with a red pen, some Post-its, and a stapler. I feel a bit like a butcher, but this book is finally shaping into what I envisioned, so it’s worth it. Not only have I been restructuring the thing, I’m also writing new scenes that work so much better.
One thing about me, I will rewrite a book until it’s right. Now that I’m armed with healthier boundaries, some deep inner work, and craft enrichment, it feels right and good. I’m happier than ever and doing some of my best work. I seriously can’t wait for you guys to read Kinsley & Antoni’s story!
New Podcast
Remember how I was teasing “exciting things coming”? Well, those exciting things are here! After years of false starts, I’ve finally launched a podcast. And it’s a little different.
Subscribe to continue reading
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Welcome back to Books, Bud, and Brews. I love saying that!
What a week. This week was really hard. I had to just unplug from all the media, and I needed to rest, and regroup a little bit, and I took a morning nap, which felt amazing, and I woke up actually feeling much better, and it was an accidental nap. *chuckles* I was watching the Reading Rainbow documentary, and that actually was just the pep talk I needed.
I don’t know—it’s so strange, sometimes when I watch things, or read things, they’re exactly what I need, and it was wild. Reading Rainbow—still saving my generation’s sanity, to this day.
So, what are we talking about today? We are talking about writer burnout, which is taking us out, one by one, like dominoes, and we don’t talk about it at all. So I’m gonna talk about it.
We’re also going to talk about character trauma, and character arcs, and healing together from trauma, in romance.
Please subscribe and give this video a like if you’re watching on YouTube!
So, creative burnout. It’s a thing. It happens to writers. It happens to us a lot. It’s an issue in our community that we don’t talk about. I don’t think readers are even remotely aware. I just think readers kind of see—you guys see the after effects of burnout, right. You’ll see that the series you’re really into is not being continued anymore, or that author’s not on social media anymore. Or, you’ll see author’s kind of rescheduling releases a lot or completely cancelling different releases, different events, stuff like that. I’ve also seen authors be really up front with readers, like “Hey, I’m going through this thing right now, and I just can’t get this book out at the moment. I need a moment for myself, and I need to regroup, reset, and relax, and reevaluate things. The wonderful thing about the book community is, people are generally pretty supportive of this. Which is why I don’t understand why we don’t talk about it, because our readers are very supportive, other authors are very supportive.
We got sucked into this myth that we have to publish quickly because the algorithms on certain retailers favor that. The thing is, before those algorithms were a thing, we were lucky if we saw a book a year from our favorite authors. I mean, authors were creating pen names so they could publish more than one book in a year. The norm really was every year or so you’d get a new book from that author. Sometimes even longer. Books used to take years and years and years in between, like, series books. I mean, if you don’t have the experience of waiting for the next book in the series, and you’re just so hungry for any news, and then it comes out, and you get that first cozy-up with it—it’s the best.
So we didn’t always have this insane breakneck speed schedule. Readers were happy waiting, writers would just take their time, focus on the craft. Things would just naturally come out, and people would get to enjoy them.
Now, there’s nothing wrong with a fast release schedule, do not get me wrong. Because it can be great, there are people who literally read books *snaps fingers* within hours. You’re amazing. So no hate to people that write fast or read fast. What I’m really talking about is when we kind of get stuck in this thought that, “I have to serve this algorithm. I have to be on this schedule. I have to be very fast. I have to keep putting books out. I have to release weekly, or monthly.”
I have actually seen people trying to do weekly schedules. I’ve seen people do monthly. It’s… a lot. The authors are suffering. That’s the thing. If people were not burning out so bad, and things were just moving along, that would be fine. The problem is, all the time, authors are disappearing, never to be heard from again. Authors that were doing well—that were kicking ass in their careers, that were really just taking off, and then all of a sudden, they burn out. I’ve seen authors talk about it, to the extent where they’ll kind of explain a little about what’s going on, and then I’ve also seen authors just never come back, either.
There’s also an issue within the industry of an expectation of speed. I was just talking with some authors and other industry people about how they’re formatting books and copyediting books that aren’t even written yet. So if you can kind of break that down and digest what I just said, they are copyediting books that are not written yet. *chuckles* I don’t know how that works. He explained it, it sounds stressful for everyone on all sides of it.
I don’t know what we’re doing.
I think that we need to start saying no. I think that we need to start putting boundaries for ourselves and others, and I think we need to lose the mindset that we are all in competition with each other. This kind of competitive spirit has become toxic. It’s one thing to push yourself and to want to do better, and keep pushing forward, and it’s another to just pit all authors against each other, and constantly be working against each other. We are actually on the same side, because I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t keep up with a person who can read three to five books in a day. *laughs* Never mind one book a day. I’m just always amazed by how quickly people tell me they read my books, or other books, or how many books they read in a day. That kind of thing always blows my mind, because at this point I feel like I’m lucky to read a book a year.
So what can we do? We can talk about it. That’s all I wanted. I’ve actually been in author groups where I posted something just saying, “Hey guys, we really need to talk about this, and try to figure it out, because we really are disappearing.” We’re burning out at, I think, a pretty steady rate, and it’s kind of alarming. I’ve also experienced burnout for myself, and I don’t want that, our readers don’t want that, we don’t want that for ourselves. We want better for ourselves. We want to have businesses that are sustainable and fun, and we keep getting better at what we do, and we do cool shit together. That’s what I think. So I think we start talking about it, and we collaborate on solutions for burnout. We get more collaborative in general. You know, you’re not my competition, I’m not your competition, because they’re gonna read all of our books, and then some. *laughs* So we don’t need to worry about whose book they want to read. They’re gonna read all the books.
And we also start setting boundaries for ourselves. We really think about, “If I’m going to publish a book a month, if that’s something I am going to do, that I’m comfortable with and able to do, and I can do it in a healthy, sustainable way, then what are the boundaries I’m going to put into place for myself?” Because you can’t keep pouring out of yourself if you have nothing coming in. And if you’re constantly working late, working weekends—and I understand a lot of us don’t have the flexibility in our lives to have a steady, consistent schedule at all. I mean, I don’t have kids right now, but I do have chronic illnesses. They’re like kids, they’re always needing something, they don’t go away, they don’t go with their dad for the weekend. *chuckles* Some of us are writing nights, some of us are working around other work schedules, some of us are working around family, so it’s a lot of different things that are going on.
But say I work nine to five. I stay tight within those boundaries. Or if I can only grab time where I can, say I’m writing tonight, then it’s only gonna be for an hour, 9-10 p.m., and then I’m done, I’m going to rest or relax or do something else. It’s about boundaries.
It’s also about saying no… to people that think we can *snaps fingers* generate a book. This is where it’s going to get interesting, because we have this AI technology now. We are not meant to just vomit things out. We’re not supposed to just endlessly go go go, we are human beings. We are meant to experience, and feel, and enjoy our lives. Yes, enjoy. We are meant to enjoy, and experience—even if the circumstances around us are not ideal and perfect, we’re still meant to enjoy and feel and experience. We are not supposed to keep going and burn ourselves out.
So I think those three things are a great starting point. We talk about it, we start collaborating more, and we keep some boundaries.
reading to you
Today we are reading from A Disturbing Prospect, Book 1 in my River Reapers MC series.
Last week we read Chapter 1 of A Disturbing Prospect, and Cliff got out of prison, and he is trying to figure out pretty much everything. He doesn’t have a place to stay, he doesn’t have anywhere to go, he doesn’t have a job, he doesn’t know if he has any friends or family that he’s going to be able to have as a support system, and he’s figuring everything out. His character arc is pretty awesome. I’m going to try not to spoil anything.
So when Cliff gets out of prison, he is dealing with several traumas. He’s processing so much. He has just gotten out of prison after a 20-year sentence. He’s dealing with grief, and loss. He’s also dealing with having witnessed a child hurt. He’s dealing with separation from his family. And he’s dealing with reintegration, getting back into society.
Everything is different for him. Those are the things he notices is everything is different. He is not familiar with anything anymore. The technology has changed, everything that he knew going in is pretty much horribly outdated, and there’s all this new stuff that he’s gotta figure out. So the first thing he has to figure out is, how does he find his family, so that he can maybe have a chance. Because the statistics of inmates committing another crime are really high when they first get out. Turns out there’s really no rehabilitation happening in these “rehabilitation centers.” There isn’t as much of a reintegration process that you’d think.
All of these things shape this characters as he’s—as you’re introduced to him in the story. You’re just kind of dropped into right when he gets out of prison, and he’s kind of just taking everything in, and realizing, “I’m all alone, I don’t have anyone, I don’t have anywhere to go. My only shot is finding my cousin.”
That character starts out very not sure-footed at all, really just having to pick up and really start building—and quick. He doesn’t have time or room for any trouble, anything that could potentially land him back in. He really just wants to be out, and not be there again. So this is a character that’s used to solving every problem with his fists and violence, and now he’s in a situation where he can’t do that at all anymore. He’s gotta do things the “legit way.” He’s gotta do things by the book. He’s gotta make sure he checks in with his P.O., make sure he gets a job right away, he has a place to stay—ticks off all the boxes because he does not want to go back inside.
Those survival behaviors that he had before don’t suit him anymore. He knows what he is and what he’s done, and he’s really trying to do different. After 20 years in the prison, living like that, having to fight to defend yourself, not having contact with anyone in the outside world, can he change? That’s what he wonders when he first comes out, Can he even change? Does he even have a shot at having a future, a family, falling in love…?
He can’t do it alone—we all need support—so the first thing he does is try to find his cousin and reconnect with her, because that was his best friend. But because of what happened and why he went into prison, he doesn’t necessarily know if he’s going to be able to find her, or if she’s even gonna want to talk to him. He’s very much dependent on her accepting him back into her life.
Their relationship was very, very good, they were very very close, like this, like siblings basically, except he was much older than her, so kind of more of a chibling relationship. He is really hinging everything, like, “If I can’t reconnect with this person, and she doesn’t want me, then that’s okay, I will go away… but then I’ll go away.” *chuckles* “I’ll go away… but I’ll also go away.”
So he’s in a very shitty position. It brings up issues of toxic masculinity, because he’s feeling like, “I should be the one taking care of her. I should have a job, I need to fucking get my shit together, I need to man up.” He uses those exact words. He just spent 20 years stuck in a prison with all these other men where it really is fight or die. It’s not a vacation.
So this character is dealing with all that, processing all that, and then he meets Olivia, and everything changes for both of them. They are immediately attracted to each other, and recognize something in each other. They also, because of their own individual traumas, can’t quite connect. He’s just getting out of prison and he’s like, “I gotta check all these boxes, because I’ve missed 20 years of my life. I want to have a family, I want to settle down… and I gotta do it yesterday.” Right? So he’s like ready to go, and she’s like “Uh, no.” She doesn’t want those things at all. They both have very good reasons for wanting and needing the things that they need and want.
They also complement each other at the same time. They also each have what each other needs. They have found a home and a family in each other.
Cliff immediately starts gathering his sort of support system. He’s got his cousin Lucy, he’s got Olivia, he’s also going to be having this P.O. that he can check in with, and then he will eventually have the club’s support as well.
He’s having to kind of learn everything on the fly, completely just picking it up and going. He doesn’t know what Facebook is, he doesn’t know how to use a cell phone, and he’s finding that even socially things have changed quite a bit, like in his own community. The people that he was familiar with have all faded away—the letters, the calls, the visits, those have gone. He doesn’t have any real community at all anymore. That looks completely different from what he remembers growing up.
Throughout the series, we see this character becoming less reluctant and more aware of his family history, and the generational trauma that he’s inherited. Through that understanding that he’s gaining, as he’s kind of navigating his role in the club and becoming a fully patched member, he starts to realize that he does want the club. He wants to make it what it could be. His father left a legacy that’s not so great. [Cliff] knows what he wants for it.
He goes from a person who has nothing, and has no direction, no support system—nothing—to a person who is leading. After not wanting to lead, but coming into that. Which has been so fun and so rewarding to write, and read. I know you guys love him.
His character was actually influenced by people I know in real life who did do time—throughout the years, spent a lot of time in prison, and actually were in prison longer than they were out. Through those experiences, they definitely have an interesting way of looking at life, and they have a very… amazing personality, quite honestly, because I think that it could change you. You could let it—like, Cliff worries about, is it going to change him, is he still going to be that monster that he thinks he is, he thinks he’s always going to be that person that went in and spent those 20 years in there.
It’s really easy to be that person, quite honestly. I think it’s easy to just give in and just let those things take over, and forget about what’s important, what’s within your control. I think it’s so much easier to just give in to it. Whereas, you can work and develop and evolve, and… I don’t want to say, like, “Take the lesson,” because prison is a very complicated conversation, and I don’t necessarily want to fully get into it, but I don’t think that most people start off in life thinking, “You know what I really hope? I hope I do some hard time!” *chuckles*
Most people are good people, and that’s not what they were intending at all. I think our system should reflect that, and support that, instead of supporting the chaos and trauma that come from being in prison. What I really wanted to do was highlight how very little support there is, and how very much we emphasize that prisoners should rehabilitate, but we give them very little support or opportunities to do that.
People can’t even get jobs coming out of prison. Most employers won’t hire a felon, and it doesn’t even matter if the crime wasn’t violent. In fact, recently I learned that most nursing homes won’t even let a felon recuperate in their nursing homes, even if they weren’t a violent criminal. That to me is just insane. You’re not giving people opportunities to actually come back into society. You’re completely blocking them out because of their past mistakes.
Through Cliff, I really wanted to highlight these things and draw awareness and attention to it, because it really is something that’s not mainstream at all. It’s just kind of always used as a plot device, like, “Oh, this character’s done hard time.” Well, you know, that comes with a lot of its own trauma, it comes with a lot of its own baggage, and it’s very interesting to explore, and I think it’s something worth talking about.
If you enjoyed this discussion on author burnout and character growth from prison to leader of the MC, please let me know. Please leave a comment on YouTube, you can also DM me, you can email me, or you can leave a comment on the shownotes on my blog.
Thank you so much for listening to Books, Bud, and Brews! I’m Elizabeth Barone, author of dark romance with a body count, and small town romance with a body count. You can check out all of my books, including some free books and chapters, on my website ElizabethBarone.com.
Thank you for listening to Episode 2 of Books, Bud, and Brews!
Welcome to Books, Bud, and Brews 📖💨☕️ with Elizabeth Barone, where we are hanging out, smoking up, and catching up. Today we’re discussing what makes reading so healing. I’ll read to you from my dark romance, A Disturbing Prospect. And we’ll talk favorite strains for leisure, pain management, and creativity.
Please subscribe and give this video a like if you’re watching on YouTube!
Welcome to the first episode of Books, Bud, and Brews! I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time, and after a lot of false starts, I’m so excited to finally stop telling myself no and just do it. I want this show to feel like you’re chillin’ with your bestie, smoking up and shooting the shit. But I’m also not gonna pretend like nothing is happening and everything is normal, because everything is not normal. We are going to dive into some deeper topics, so I won’t be ignoring what’s going on, and I’ll also work to strike a balance between going deep and staying cozy. I’ll look to you to tell me how deep you want me to go.
This week I’ve been running through Sleeve of Hearts revisions! After over a year of working on this book, I can finally, finally see the end in sight. I ended up going old school and printed out a hard copy and revising that way. There really is something to doing things the old fashioned way sometimes. It really does something to your brain, like flips a switch. So stay tuned for more on that series soon, because things are a-moving!
Why Reading is So Healing
We talk a lot in the community about reading being healing, but have you ever thought about why?
I truly believe books find you when you need them most. It’s so weird, so many times in my life, when I was going through something and turned to a book to escape, I ended up finding exactly what I needed in that book, even if the plot wasn’t relevant to my life. Like this past summer, I ended up reading several books back to back that all were exactly what I needed, in different ways. It was amazing, because I’d been going through a dry reading spell, and then out of nowhere I just blew through three or four in a row that were all incredible, and all of them gave me something.
I’ll link to those books in the show notes.
I really do believe the right books find you right when you need them.
Reading also helps you slow down and focus your brain. It’s really, really good for anxiety. When you’re absorbing each word—reading is very cerebral, and it’s the only entertainment where the audience controls the flow of time. When you’re watching a movie, that 90 minutes goes by. But when you’re reading, you can really slow down, savor every word. Some of us (hi) are reading the same words and paragraphs over and over. But it slows you down. It’s good stuff.
It also gives you an escape from reality. Your reality doesn’t even necessarily have to be traumatic for you to need an escape. It could just be the monotony of everyday life, and reading gives you a break from that. Or when you’re going through something, it can be an escape from some really hard times.
Or like, when I’m reading horror, it can help you realize maybe things aren’t so bad. Like, things are difficult in my life… but at least it’s not zombies.
Reading is also a safe way to work through trauma and other complicated feelings. So many dark romance authors say they wrote their books because they experienced those things. Writing it gave them a safe space to process that in a sort of sandbox. And the author creates that space for themselves—but also the reader. Tehre’s a lot of controversy about trigger warnings, btu they’re useful int wo ways.
Trigger and content warnings can tell you what topics you migt want to avoid. They can also help you find a book to safely process specific things.
It’s really amazing that auhtors can create those spaces for ourselves and our readers. We end up processing together. I really want to explore that more, going forward in my own career.
Because, research shows that writing creatively actually heals trauma. When you’re involving all five senses to write and process your trauma, it has a similar effect to that of EMDR. We’re definitely going to be talking about that more in future episodes, because I’m very excited about this.
Reading to You
Today I’m reading from the first book in my dark romance series, A Disturbing Prospect.
My Favorite bud
Where I live, in Connecticut, cannabis is legal medically and recreationally. It can be a bit hard to find informaiton, though. Dispensaries use different names than what we’re used to. It can become a sort of trial and error situation, and while it can be frustrating, it can also be fun.
Different strains have different effects, uses, and side effects. It can take some experimenting to find strains that work best for you.
For pain, I really like Hauntrica and Emerald Fire. Hauntrica is one that’s in the dispensaries, I believe only on the medical side. I’m not sure what its street name is. It’s so good for pain, though quite drying. I’ve found that all the best strains for pain tend to be drying.
I also really like Emerald Fire. I actually only just tried it a few months ago, and it’s now probably my all-time favorite. It’s also not hard to find, so I’ll hopefully be keeping it in rotation from here on. It’s a really good one to keep on hand for those bad pain days.
Indicas tend to be better for pain, I think because they have a higher THC content. Don’t quote me on that. There are some sativas that I like for pain, like Sour Diesel and Gelato. But I tend to stick to indicas for pain.
Now for leisure, that’s a whole different mood. You want to kick back, watch a movie, maybe laugh a little. Gelato and Sour Diesel are really good for that, while also keeping you alert and energized. They’re not gonna put you in couch lock. My other favorite, Skywalker, though, that’ll make you feel like a cartoon character blown back into a wall by a fan. That one, you throw on a movie and probably take a nap. But for reading and stuff like that where I want to be focused and really get into my book, I love Gelato and Sour D.
They’re also my picks for creativity. Again, they’re sativas and so they’re energizing, with serious creative vibes. You’ll really get into that zone with these two strains. You’ll be able to concentrate and the ideas will flow.
There are so many strains out there but I really am a simple girl. I have my handful of favorites and I’m good to go.
What strains are your favorite? Please let us know. It can be really difficult for people to get proper information, and in the 420 community, we are all about sharing, so don’t gatekeep!
I’m so exicted for what’s ahead in this podcast. I’ve got lots of ideas for segments, and I’m curious what you’re interested in. Please take a moment and take this quick poll to help me create better episodes for you.
Thank you for listening to Episode 1 of Books, Bud, and Brews!
The infamous Butcher & Blackbird ice cream scene broke the internet. In the scene, our hero Rowan accidentally eats ice cream made from human semen. A little later, they find the maker of this confectionery nightmare eating it on purpose. The ice cream only has a brief cameo, but it ignited an age old debate. Should romance be gory?
In mainstream romance, we focus on the cute moments in life packaged in prose revised to Hallmark perfection. If there are any corpses, they’re reduced to a more palatable mention.
Sometimes that escape from reality is desperately needed. We slip into picturesque struggling towns that won’t really go under, and even if someone dies, their death serves as some kind of lesson for our main characters. We will never, ever see our hero eat cum ice cream. The only thing he’s eating is our heroine’s pussy. 😈
Or our other hero’s cock. Whatever works!
I love when dark romance marries romance with horror. It’s a personal gripe of mine that the dark romance section is packed with titles that contain little to no romance. Often they’re actually vengeance stories, our heroine getting her just desserts. I love these stories, too; it’s so healing to read a badass woman killing rapists. But when I pick up any romance, it’s because I’m in the mood for romance, ya know?
That’s why I loved Butcher & Blackbird so much. Brynne Weaver balanced revenge with a slow burn love story and plenty of gore for the triumvirate of dark romance. There’s a running bit where our hero busts our heroine’s balls for always doing a bad job gouging out the left eye of her victims. At first she’s annoyed by this wry observation. Then it becomes an inside joke, evolving as their relationship does.
The semen ice cream scene is such a brief one, yet clearly made an impression because people are still talking about it. It doesn’t read like the shock value I too often see in dark romance. It’s set up like a comedy bit, which is a smart move on Weaver’s part because comedy and horror are closely related. There’s a reason why Jordan Peele of the Key and Peele comedic duo went on to become a horror king: both genres are all about timing. The creme de cum serves as an opportunity for the reader to feel Sloane’s and Rowan’s shock. As horror fans, we’ve seen a lot of cannibalism, so the usual stuff won’t work for us. Weaver gets that. When Rowan takes a bite, we’re not just grossed out, we’re laughing in horror because omfg, he for real ate it, and most of us can recall the taste and texture of both ice cream and semen, so we’re both horrified for him and laughing in relief that it isn’t us.
In case you can’t tell, I’ve got a bit of a writing crush on her.
The scene is about as skippable as spicy bits; you can skim if you’d prefer and you won’t miss much, other than the two main characters bonding over this tragedy.
I want to see more dark romance like this: books that blend all the feels of horror with the rush of falling in love. The weirdo who made the ice cream isn’t what really scares our MCs. It’s the notion of giving away their heart to the other person, and that’s what they really have to vanquish to get their HEA.
What are your favorite romances that blend in horror elements? Tell us the title and author, please!
The tears in Sloane’s eyes shift and shine as they gather at her lash line. “I am not unlovable.” She jabs her bloody finger in my direction, punctuating every word. “I am very fucking lovable.”
Again and again, certain books come to me when I need them most. I’m a survivor of sexual assault. I couldn’t even start processing the things that were done to me until a different traumatic event occurred in 2015 and my therapist diagnosed me with complex PTSD. The other day, I ran into one of my abusers (almost literally), and it sent me into a bit of a spiral. I processed it over a few days, going through all sorts of emotions. Then I needed a distraction—a safe distraction.
This is why trigger warnings are so important. I get that for some readers, a list of TWs can look like spoilers and, for others, triggers are more like tropes, in that they purposely look for books featuring specific triggers—reading certain triggers can help some survivors process traumatic events. For some survivors, though, those lists are lifelines.
I’ve long struggled to find my place in dark romance, as both a reader and writer. I’ve read romances marketed as lighthearted rom-coms that opened with graphic rape scenes or contained disturbing plot twists that you’d need therapy for IRL. These triggers can be so validating in some readers’ healing journeys, while detrimental to others. This is why I believe trigger warnings are necessary; readers who don’t need them can ignore them, and readers who do need them can utilize them.
I can’t tell author Brynne Weaver how much I appreciate her not only having a content warnings section on her website, but also for writing spicy romance that is always consensual. For me, this is imperative whether I’m reading dark or light romance. I’m super cautious about the books I read, and having an extensive list of CWs helped me decide to give Butcher & Blackbird a shot. (So did this blog post and this Amazon review.)
I’m seeing a trend that’s fascinating me. [In some dark romances] we get strong, vulnerable, and resilient women who take the abuses and transgressions of life and channel them to move on and become these [badass] warrior women who fight for the voiceless victimized who cannot speak [nor] stand for themselves. While viewed by many as just smut, these types of books have the potential to do incredible collective trauma healing work surround women’s issues of SA, assault, and violence. So read all the smut you love, because you may be healing the traumas of yourself, your community, and your ancestors!
(I really want to talk more about how healing dark romance is, but this is supposed to be a review, so I’ll stay on topic!)
So I went in, cautiously, eyes wide open for the two TWs I might have an issue with due to my own history, poised to skip or put the book aside altogether, if need be. I didn’t have to do either of those things.
Butcher & Blackbird is funny. I was chuckling just reading the excerpt (Chapter 1). Weaver is flawless in her balance of dark subjects with perfectly timed humor and well-written gore. I’ve read a lot of dark romances that lean heavily on shock value but with very little substance, and with more smut than romance; they’d be more appropriately filed in horror. Butcher & Blackbird isn’t like that. There’s heart and warmth to it. There’s real romance—actual swoony moments that had me forgetting about the bodies that needed hiding. Moments that had me tearily “Aw”- and “Oh”-ing out loud the same I would if I were reading cute small town romance. Just with lobotomies.
I point to the not-so-good doctor, whose blood trickles down his face in drying streaks. “Left eye hole. Always a little gouge-y.”
Maybe it’s because my IRL “book boyfriend” is a man who knows how to love a traumatized woman, but I have such a love for this trope in dark romance. Rowan doesn’t need push around Sloane for us to know he’s ✨tortured✨. He doesn’t swing his dick around to tell us he’s strong. He takes Sloane pretending not to know who he is in stride. He gives her space and time, patiently and intentionally earning her trust. When it comes to sex, he’s giving, cognizant of her need for safety but also not afraid to dick her down. Their dynamic reminds me a lot of my own, IRL, and gave me another safe space that I desperately needed, while also giving me an escape from the real world.
In the end, Rowan and Sloane come together to heal from their pasts—another aspect of dark romance that I have big love for. After all, we’re talking romance; love can and does conquer all. The ending had me smiling so big, and I loved that Weaver didn’t just dump us off—she gave us an epilogue that connected to the next book in the series, plus a bonus epilogue that gave us a sweet happily ever after that was so very fitting to these characters.
I loved this book so much, I could go on and on—I loved and strongly related to Sloane being a lone wolf with one best friend, and as a horror fan I really enjoyed the gore and almost episodic serial killer segments. I know Weaver didn’t write this book for me, per se, but man, it really felt like it. It was just what I needed, reminding me that no matter the things I’ve been through, the beauty I have in my life far outweighs the ugly.
“You have never been unlovable. You were just waiting for someone who will love you for who you are, not for who they want you to be. I can do that, if you’ll let me.” I press my lips to hers and taste salt and blood but pull away before the kiss deepens. “I fucking adore you, Sloane Sutherland. I wanted you from that first day at Briscoe’s. I have loved you for years. I’m not stopping. Not ever.”
If you liked A Disturbing Prospect, you’ll like Butcher & Blackbird. Like Olivia and Cliff, the lead couple punishes abusers together, the romance is an achingly sweet slow burn, and the story is fast-paced with plenty of thrills and delicious darkness.
I love the way Jo Leevers wrote The Last Time I Saw You (July 1st, 2024), deftly handling daughter Georgie’s struggle with abandonment and mother Nancy’s shame of disappearing from her children’s lives. Her writing immediately pulled me in, keeping me reading because first I was curious about what would make a mother leave her children, then because I became deeply invested in the characters and ending.
Leevers’ pacing is impeccable. Chapters fly by until you realize you’re 70 percent in and should probably go to bed. She tells the story by showing us the damage caused by Nancy’s disappearance, then showing us both Nancy’s and Georgie’s lives. As the truth began to unfold, I rooted for Nancy and hoped she and her now grown children would find their way back to each other.
The ending felt like a hug from a loved one you haven’t seen in a long time. I cried happy tears but I was also relieved, after the wringer Leevers put me through.
This book should have a TW/CW for on-page sexual assault—I had to step away for a moment and check in with myself, and was able to continue shortly after. I don’t want to spoil any plot points, but readers with a history might need the heads up that there is rape and stalking.
With the happiest of endings, The Last Time I Saw You is a healing story, deftly written with tenderness and care, and I’m so grateful to Prime First Reads for putting it into my hands because it was exactly what I needed.
If you liked my novella Her Mercy, you might like The Last Time I Saw You. Even though this book isn’t a romance, it contains similar themes: missing mother, generational trauma, mother/daughter relationships, examining the past, healing together, cross country road trip to find someone. There’s even a lovely dog named Bree! I truly felt like this book was put in my hands, it was so special to me.
Matt slumped into a chair in Katherine’s office. After hearing the news the other night, he hadn’t even wanted to open the bakery for the next day. There was no point. The place was lifeless without her. But she’d made it abundantly clear to him that she wanted him to keep the place going if anything happened to her. Her lawyer was definitely making sure sure that he followed her last wishes, too.
So he’d opened up Elli’s on Saturday and accepted a steady stream of customers mourning Katherine. He spent the day serving them coffee and pastries, pushing his own feelings aside. There was no choice. If he thought about his mentor too much, he would break. Katherine had been more than that, really. She’d been like a mother to him.
He’d closed early and fallen into a heavy sleep, resolving not to open on Sunday. But the lawyer had given him a friendly wakeup call that morning, imploring him to get to work. Matt didn’t know what to expect, but nothing had changed. People continued to flock to Elli’s, offering him their condolences and treating the weekend as a memorial service in and of itself.
He dragged a hand through his brown curls, sighing. He’d made it through most of the weekend, but he had no idea what would happen next. Without Katherine, he had no job. It was only a matter of time.
The smart thing to do would be to skip the wake that evening and spend the night figuring out what he was going to do. He’d graduated high school only by the skin of his teeth. College hadn’t even been an option. If it wasn’t for Katherine, he and his family would be homeless. And he would never be able to thank her for what she’d done for him.
There was no way he could miss her wake, though. The thought of seeing her in a casket simultaneously made him nauseous and sent pain searing through his chest, but he had to pay his last respects. He owed her at least that—even if it would cost him dearly.
Matt rubbed his face with his hands. The whole situation was all too familiar. He’d been one of very few people who had known Katherine was sick. She hadn’t even intended to tell him, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew the side effects of chemo. He’d watched her get weaker and weaker, once again powerless to stop the inevitable. On its own, his grief for his father was unbearable, but losing Katherine was like ripping a scab off a large, still raw wound. The anger, sadness, and helplessness enveloping him were familiar, but that didn’t make dealing with those feelings any easier.
Shoulders slumped, he stood from his seat. On his way into the kitchen to clean up, he paused in the hall. The front end needed a run-through, too. His limbs felt frozen. Without any customers, the place felt too empty. Katherine would kill him if he left the place anything less than spotless, though. Torn, he glanced back at the kitchen, then at the cafe. Normally he wasn’t so indecisive, but he felt reluctant to clean either room. All he wanted to do was go home and collapse into bed. Maybe then he’d wake up and discover it’d all been a bad dream.
Danny and his mom were waiting at home for him, though. The thought of his family jolted him into action. They depended on him. He needed to stay strong.
It didn’t take long for him to clean up, even though he took his time. Once he started, he relaxed easily into the familiar ritual. He was suddenly all too aware that the sooner he locked up, the closer he’d be on his way to the wake. There was only so much procrasti-cleaning he could do, though. Squaring his shoulders, he put the mop away and grabbed his keys from the office. He set the alarm, then slipped out into the hot afternoon.
His pickup didn’t have air conditioning. He’d parked in the shady corner of the parking lot earlier that morning. Though it’d been dark when he arrived, the truck rested underneath a sprawling oak. Even though he’d left the windows wide open, when he opened the door, steaming hot air rushed out at him. The sooner he got it moving, the better.
He took the long way home—not that there was really a long way in Watertown. He crossed the small town into the even smaller town of Oakville within just a few minutes. Parking in front of the three-family house where he and his family lived, he shut the engine off. He needed to compose himself before he walked in and Danny saw his face.
The wake would start in just a couple of hours. Everything was happening too quickly. He needed a moment, but life was unrelenting. The best he could do was stop fighting and let himself be carried.
The problem was, he had no idea which direction he should float in.
Steeling himself, he pushed open the car door and got out. As he walked toward the door that led to his apartment, he felt eyes on him. Casually, he glanced up to the third floor. His upstairs neighbor Burton glared down at him through the blinds.
“That old fucker blocked me in again.”
Matt turned toward the door to the first floor apartment, shoulders tense. He did not feel like dealing with Maureen at the moment. If he brushed her off, though, she would take it personally. She and Burton had already dragged him into their war, each trying to force him to pick sides. He had no idea how Switzerland always remained so neutral. Juggling neighbors was hard. Besides, he was inclined to get along with Maureen because she frequently looked after Danny for him.
“What else is new?” he asked, keeping his tone light.
Maureen nodded toward the other side of the house. “So I knocked his garbage over.” She smirked.
Great. Burton would, without a doubt, blame Danny. Every time Matt’s little brother played outside, Burton made an effort to intimidate him back inside. The old fucker was territorial and mean. Matt opened his mouth, then shut it. Reminding Maureen that she had other neighbors would do no good. He’d have to remember to clean up the mess as soon as she went inside. He climbed the steps to his door and put a hand on the knob.
“Want a cigarette?” Maureen asked, holding out the pack to him.
He considered it. A cigarette would help soothe his nerves. But he’d promised Danny he would never smoke again, and he intended to keep that promise—even if his mother didn’t. “I’ve got a wake to get to.”
Maureen’s lips twitched to the side and her eyebrows slanted. “Sorry to hear that.” She took a drag from her cigarette. “I’ll catch you later, then,” she said, exhaling smoke as she spoke.
Closing the door behind him, Matt climbed the flight of stairs that led to the final door to his apartment. They were steep, creaking and groaning beneath him. He still thought the placement of the stairs was odd, but he was glad that there were two doors separating him from his neighbors.
As soon as he opened the door, Danny flung himself into his arms. “Matty,” his little brother said affectionately. The kid hadn’t hit puberty yet, and his voice was still childlike. Soon that would change, though.
“Is Mom . . . ?” Matt let the question hang in the air.
Danny nodded. “She said to get her up before the, well, you know.” He looked down at the floor.
Matt knelt in front of him. “You don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.” He considered for a moment. “But you’d have to hang out outside the funeral home—unless you want to stay with Maureen.”
His little brother shook his head rapidly. “I’ll bring my Gameboy.”
Matt smiled. The Gameboy Advance had been his, from his own childhood. Despite its age, Danny loved the Pokemon Red and Super Mario Bros. games that Matt had played at his age. He was glad he’d held onto it. Neither he or his mother could afford to get Danny the latest Nintendo handheld device, and definitely not something as expensive as an iPad. But if the kid knew the difference, he didn’t let on. Danny was a good boy.
Straightening, Matt glanced around the kitchen. Cereal bowls from that morning were still on the table, soggy Os floating in probably rancid milk. He sighed. “You’ve got to remember to clean up, Danny.” Though he hated that his little brother had joined the Take Care of Mom club, eleven was old enough to put a dish in the sink.
After he rinsed the bowls out and set them in the sink to soak, Matt headed into the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a few. Wake Mom up,” he called over his shoulder.
He pulled into the funeral home’s lot and followed one of the usher’s directions into a parking spot. “Danny,” he said, turning in his seat. His little brother sat bent over his Gameboy. “It’s too hot to stay in the car while we’re inside so go sit in the shade over there.” He pointed to a grassy area. A bench sat underneath a tree. From there, engrossed in his game, Danny probably wouldn’t even remember that he was at a funeral home. Or so Matt hoped.
Matt unbuckled his seat belt and slid out of the car. At some point, he’d have to stop babying his little brother. He knew that. But he’d never forget the look on Danny’s face when they first walked into another room in another funeral home, six years earlier. Matt hadn’t even been prepared for how their dad would look, the once tan skin ashen and flat. Their father had looked like a sleeping statue, a parody of himself.
Shaking the memories away, Matt went around to his mother’s side of the car. He opened her door and offered her his arm. She glanced up at him from beneath thinning lashes, her eyes somber.
“You can hang out with Danny, if you want,” he said gently.
Relief flickered across her face for a moment, then she shook her head. She lifted her chin. “Katherine did so much for you—for us,” Emily said. She clasped his arm and climbed out of the car, grimacing in pain at his touch. Grief had not been kind to her. Where she’d once been strong, Fibromyalgia wracked her nerves, the stress of losing her husband aggravating her illness.
Still, he was able to lead her into the funeral home without much trouble. He started to guide her to a seat, but she shook her head. Nodding, he led her toward the line. It was long.
While they waited, he tried to look anywhere but the casket. The room was crowded with people, many of the faces familiar. He glanced at the line of family members receiving condolences. He’d only met Katherine’s brother Noah once. He could only assume the woman standing next to him was his wife. He knew Katherine hadn’t exactly seen eye to eye with her family, but he’d never learned why. He was pretty sure that, if Katherine could have it her way, none of them would be at the wake or funeral.
The line of mourners moved forward, rapidly passing time shoving Matt closer to the casket. He forced himself to focus on something else as he moved his feet. Next to Mr. and Mrs. Ellis stood their daughters and son. Their oldest daughter, he knew, was a relatively successful theatre actress out in New York City. Their son was a teenager who regularly got into trouble, though. He’d barely graduated high school, but only because he preferred to smoke pot and snort pills in the school bathroom. Katherine was not fond of either Mia or Leo.
But she’d loved her other niece.
Matt’s eyes fell on the young woman named Rowan. He’d never met her, but he felt as if he knew her. As he took in the sight of her, his breath caught in his throat. The dress she wore hugged her curves, its pencil skirt shape falling to just above her knees. Though the neckline reached her collarbone, parts of the dress that stretched across her breastbone were tastefully cut out in three diamond shapes. Light brown hair fell in waves down to her waist. She was stunning—much more so than the photos on Katherine’s desk hinted at.
Pale blue eyes met his from across the room. Recognition flashed across her face. Her eyes widened. He smiled, starting to lift a hand. Rowan’s eyes narrowed in a hard glare. Her lips twitched in distaste.
Turning around, he glanced about for the object of her anger. No one in the vicinity seemed to even notice her, though. He glanced back at her. She was definitely glaring at him.
And she wasn’t happy.
Matt took an involuntary step back. The line moved forward—Murphy’s Law. He realized that his mom was eyeing him expectantly, one brow lifted in question. For once, his mother was more possessed than he was. He shook his head at himself, then joined her. Throwing a glance at the casket, he tried to decide what he was going to do once up there.
People knelt, bowed their heads, and after a few seconds, made the sign of the cross. Then they stood up. Though his father had been raised Jewish, Matt’s parents had basically raised him Protestant. All that came to an end six years before. He knew Katherine’s family was far from religious—never mind Catholic—so the ritual seemed even more impersonal to him.
What he really wanted to do was shake her awake and take her out for a coffee, escaping from the too warm room and all the formalities. The thought was absurd, but there it was.
Suddenly it was his turn.
He hadn’t noticed his mother go ahead of him. She stood off to the side, waiting for him.
Matt wiped the palms of his hands on his worn black Dickies. He stepped forward. Swallowing hard against the dry knot in his throat, he knelt down in front of the casket. He found himself staring into Katherine’s arm. Quickly he bowed his head.
He didn’t know how to pray, or if he should even bother. He had no idea what happened after life. Heart thudding in his chest, he tried to think of what he’d want to say to Katherine if he’d had the chance.
I’m sorry, he blurted into the spaces of his mind. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—
Someone in the line behind him cleared their throat. Matt’s head snapped up. With a final nod, he jumped away from the casket and joined his mom.
She gave his arm a squeeze.
Together, they turned toward Katherine’s family.
“I’m so sorry,” Emily said, clasping Noah’s hand.
The man nodded his thanks. The bitter, sticky scent of marijuana oozed off of him. His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy. In fact, Matt noticed as he moved down the line shaking hands, the entire Ellis family smelled like weed. A smile tugged at his lips but he forced his face to remain blank. Part of him wished they’d invited him to spark up. The scent was so strong, it almost knocked him over. All of them were engulfed in it—except for Rowan.
He stopped in front of her. She smelled clean, a light fragrance hovering around her like an aura, enveloping him in soothing warmth. Standing next to her family, she was a complete contrast—in more than one way. Her father and brother, for example, wore rumpled jeans. Rowan stood out in her funeral black. And while her family’s eyes were bloodshot, relaxed smiles painted their faces. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her mouth tugged down in a frown.
So maybe she hadn’t been glaring at him after all. Her family appeared almost jovial. No wonder she looked so pissed.
He held out his hand to her. “I’m Matt,” he said.
She wrapped her arms around herself. “I know who you are.” Her tone was sharp.
He blinked. Okay. He wouldn’t take it personally. She’d just lost her aunt, after all. “Katherine really loved you,” he offered. “She talked about you all the time.”
For a moment, Rowan’s face softened. A smile lit up her face. Then fresh tears filled her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
She gazed at him, a mixture of emotions playing off her face—feelings he couldn’t read.
He stood there, feeling more awkward with each second that passed. His feet felt rooted to the floor, though. Something about her drew him in. It was familiar, almost as if they knew each other. But he’d never met her. Only through Katherine’s stories did he know that she made delicious pastries and that her face turned bright red when she swore. But still. He felt an almost relief in her presence, the same kind that came from being reunited with someone you love and haven’t seen in a long time.
It was ridiculous. He didn’t believe in instalove. The crazy thing was, though, that for a second, she looked like she felt something too.
Then the mask slipped back over her face. Her eyes narrowed, guarded.
He needed to say something. People behind him pressed closer. He was holding the line up. He should tell a funny story about Katherine, bring that smile back again. Give her something to carry with her. Blank static filled his mind, though. He’d spent the last two years working with Katherine, yet he couldn’t recall a single moment. His pulse echoed in his ears. He realized that he might just be having a panic attack. The wake was proving to be too much for him.
Resolving to find her again before he left, he mumbled another quick sorry, then hurried away. He retreated to a seat at the back of the wide room. Then he cursed himself.
He’d had a chance to pay it forward, to spread some of Katherine’s kindness toward him to her niece. And he’d botched it—completely. Bringing his hands to his face, he bent over. Suddenly, he needed air. He stood and headed toward the exit.
Just One More Minute
🧁 enemies to friends to lovers 🧁 small town 🧁 bakery 🧁 healing together 🧁 diverse characters 🧁 group of friends
