Author of stories featuring fuzzy women, action, and romance. Since 2023, I've written two fantasy novels, and a parody anthology.
My first novel, Abandoned, is available on AO3 (or ebook and print on Amazon). My ongoing novel, "Paper Wings", is available on AO3 and soon to be in print/ebook.
Follow for featured fanart, updates on my latest chapters, announcements, and book releases!
Feel free to send questions, I will answer when I can. Reblogs are always super appreciated. See pinned post for links!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Chapter 26 of my latest novel, Paper Wings is now available on my AO3. Lynn and Ben face off against McNamara, their local corrupt police officer, in a violent, climactic showdown.
Read it here
We're nearing the end, only three chapters left to go.
If you're a new reader, start here and come check out this story about a nerd getting into trouble with a punk rat and wreaking havoc in his town!
Chapter 26 of my latest novel, Paper Wings is now available on my AO3. Lynn and Ben face off against McNamara, their local corrupt police officer, in a violent, climactic showdown.
Read it here
We're nearing the end, only three chapters left to go.
If you're a new reader, start here and come check out this story about a nerd getting into trouble with a punk rat and wreaking havoc in his town!
Isaac and Zaria enjoy a moments peace with one another.
A huge thank you to SongThrush on FA/Twitter for this illustration.
Excerpt of Abandoned Chapter 9, Unrealized, below the cut.
They lay in silence again. Isaac tried to calculate the dimensions of each of the giant ribs. A single one could’ve walled a village. He tried to imagine what was causing the cartilage to glow as it was. He wanted to climb up to the top of the body cavity and walk along the ribs and gaze down at the necropolis and see it as no one had seen it before.
“Hey,” he said. “What’re you going to do with your half of the treasure?”
“Ain’t you worried I’ll stab you for it?”
“I just assumed the stabbing would be for some other reason.”
“Wise of you.” There was a pause. “I’m gonna learn to read.”
He glanced over at her. “Really?”
“First thing on the docket, once I’m outta the waste.”
“Any reason why?”
She blew a raspberry. “Oh, none at all. Proud of my ignorance, really. I love having to ask direction while standing next to a sign. Warms my heart when I’m cheated for not reading a contract.” Her face was held in profile, staring up at the cartilage light. “My father always promised that’s what he’d do for me, the second he was able. Every time I handed him a bag of coin, he’d go off about me attending some academy in the upper districts so I wouldn’t have to pinch off the streets. Make something better of myself. Always wondered what might’ve happened, if things had been different. Who I could’ve been.”
“Are you doing it for him?”
“In some way, sure. Not all of it. It’s like—” She waved a hand in the air. “It’s like you said, actually. I don’t know what I don’t know. My ignorance is such that I don’t even have a true notion of it. Right? That’s what you said?”
“More or less.”
“How can I be better if I don’t know better? How can I be something other than a pirate if I don’t have no other talents? My lack of letters has restricted me my whole life. Even now, it’s a struggle to fix my words to my feelings ‘cause I don’t have the words themselves.” She paused. “You tell me, Isaac. Is there a word for something . . . not becoming? Something that never got the chance to exist?”
“Unrealized,” Isaac said.
“Could you . . . write that down for me?”
He ripped off part of his bandages, grabbed some charcoal from his pack, wrote the word as legibly as he could, and handed it to her. She looked down at the torn bandage, blinking.
“That’s it, then,” she said. “I want to learn my letters because I don’t want to be ‘unrealized’. I want to have potential. I want to steer the course of my life clear as I can. I want the tools to figure out what I want in the first place. You get my meaning?”
“Yes,” he said. “I know exactly what you mean. I feel the same way.”
“Never wanted to be a pirate, myself. Did you want to be a mage?”
“I wasn’t given the choice.”
“And you never understood what you were missing, did you?”
“Not really, no.”
“Do you know better now?”
“Maybe. I’m starting to think I won’t ever know enough.”
“Will that stop you from trying to change?”
“No,” Isaac said. “It won’t.”
“I think we’re kindred souls, then.”
He didn’t answer. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her stare at the bandage again, trying to mouth out the syllables to the word, connecting sound to letters. After a minute, she folded the bandage and tucked it into a pocket at her waist.
Read the rest here,
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I wanted to show case some of the lovely fan art I've received for my works. It's humbling people enjoy my writing so much. I only regret that I can't say who made these illustrations, as both were submitted anonymously.
On the chance the artists in question see this, thank you!
To any new readers, Paper Wings is available for free on AO3
Sometimes all you need is for someone to hold you close.
A huge thank you to @doc-art for illustrating this scene. See 9 additional sketches by him in the print and eBook version of Abandoned.
Chapter excerpt included under the cut.
She settled her head against his chest. As the conversation drifted away, he became aware of the thicker tufts of fur brushing against his stomach. Her legs mingled with his own. With his eyes, he traced the mohawk running down her neck and upper back, noting the difference in texture with the surrounding fur.
He wanted to stroke it.
His fingers curled on the rough stone, daring to lift.
He thought of her rejecting his touch. He thought of her shoving him off. He thought of her standing up, moving away, and never looking at him again.
But he wanted to, and he dared to try. He settled his hands on her upper back—with one, he stroked through the long hairs on her neck, and with the other, he scratched around the fading wounds on her upper back, through the divots and trenches of muscle. Her response was a quiet note of surprise. She shifted herself, leaning into his touch. He kept his efforts gentle enough that they might aid her in sleep.
After a moment, she gave a long, blowing sigh, as if it was the first time she had relaxed in quite a long time.
“Isaac?”
“Hm?”
“I’m glad it was you that blew up my ship.”
There was a pause.
“I could’ve met a worse pirate,” he said.
Her breathing slowed and lengthened. He never stopped scratching. Eventually, she began to snore.
