The Mechanic is inching towards the door as I fight my OCD and struggle to focus on one story at a time. I’m thinking of asking my street corner pharmacist for some Adderall to keep me from getting distracted, but I haven’t reached that point yet.
Every time we attend a house party, I usually leave with another story idea, which leads to a 10,000-word draft, allowing me to capture my thoughts and determine where to take the story. As of the last count, my draft folder contained well over one hundred drafts, but that has only resulted in more than forty published novels and novellas. I have my work cut out for me.
My typical story is between 50K – 100K words, unlike the normal smut story of 10K-15K words. Sort of like, “I promise I won’t cum in your mouth,” for me, typing ‘The End’ is especially problematic.
In our fictional world, Foxy drives a Black Series Mercedes SLS AMG, a high-performance exotic sports car. Larry had the car delivered to the Mercedes Factory Race Team, who promptly disassembled the car and tricked out every component, including balancing and blueprinting the engine.
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