Category Archives: Fiction

A place to put my fan fiction and other stories

His Plan

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Summary: Prompt by @weestarmeggie17 on Tumblr: “If I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.

Pairings: Hermione/Tom

Warnings: BDSM, Exhibition, Teasing

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.


“If you pull over we will be late.”  She countered, and there was a challenge in her voice.

“Two weeks.”  He amended as he pulled onto an exit ramp and just moved onto the shoulder of the road.

“What are you doing?!”  She gasped not thinking for an instant he had been serious.

“This is an obvious cry for attention,”  Tom said as he got out of the driver’s seat and moved around the car.

Before she could think of how to respond to that, Tom had pulled her from the car as well and soon had her bent over the hood.

“Tom!” She gasped, wiggling against him as he pushed her skirt up over her ass.  “Tom people can see!” She said noting that they had pulled onto a well-used exit.

“You should have thought of that.”  He said as he held her down with one hand and loosened his belt with the other.

“I’m sorry.”  She gasped knowing full well what would come next.

“You will be.”  He promised, and she could feel the leather brush against her ass.

“Tom!”  She whimpered one last time right before the first strike came down upon her skin.

“What did you say?”  He hissed pausing his punishment as he waited for her answer.

“I mean my Lord!”  She gasped knowing the slip was going to cost her.

“Better.  Now thank your Lord for his punishment.”  He ordered waiting.

‘Thank you for my punishment, my Lord.”  She and turned to hide her face over the mass of curls, so she didn’t have to see if anyone slowed to watch her humiliation.

“Good girl.”  He said right before he gave her another smack with his belt.

The whipping continues until she was sure her butt was going to fall off.  Her lace knickers didn’t give much of a shield, in fact now that she was sure Tom had bruised every inch of her rear it only served to irritate the tender skin.

She knew the punishment was over when she could feel his fingers stroke her sex.  He tested her after every punishment, and she knew it was mostly to make it clear to her how much it had turned her on.

“Get back in the car.”  He ordered and let her go.

She whimpered and looked back at her boyfriend and Master.  “Please?” She asked as the punishment was only ever foreplay for them.

“My time pet, unlike you I don’t show the goods to every commuter.”  He told her darkly, just to make her blush.

The rest of the four-hour road trip was going to be a hellish mix of desire and pain, just as he planned.

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Secret Flowers

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Summary: Anonymous Prompt: “Tom Riddle is in love with his teacher Hermione Granger

Pairings: Hermione/Tom

Warnings: Fluff

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.


The first flower that appeared on her desk that year was a Gloxinia.  It was the second day of school, and she found the single purple flower rimmed in white.  She couldn’t help but smile at the pretty thing, and she kept it on her desk in a vase.

When that flower started to wilts the next was a red tulip, and that too seemed like an odd choice, but she went on with her lessons keeping each flower as it came.  She enjoyed the sweet little gestures as they arrived.

She figured it was a student, but as the flowers came without a note, she decided to let the person stay anonymous.

“What’s that?”  Hermione looked up at Neville as he leaned the doorway.

“My weekly flower.”  She said holding up a blue violet.  She thought it might be her favorite so far.

“He’ll always be true.”  He said with a fond smile.

‘What?”  She asked with a laugh.

“The blue violet.  It means watchfulness, and that the giver will always be true.”  He said in a teasing way.

“What?”  She asked blinking at her friend.

“Flowers have meaning Hermione.  I thought you would know that.”

“I teach trigonometry.”  She said as she looked at the flower in her hand.  “What does the Red tulip mean?” She asked curiously.

“Red is a declaration of love,”  he said with a laugh. “Do you have a secret admirer?”  he asked seeming pleased with the idea.

“Maybe.  All my kids are brilliant.”  She said blushing as she wasn’t sure if she should keep displaying the flowers.

“It’s harmless Hermione.  Only a flower.” Neville promised to ease her mind.

After that, she looked up the meaning of every flower, and they all meant to love in one way or another.  It was sweet and kind, and after a while, she didn’t think much about it.

“Have a good holiday Mr. Riddle.”  She told Tom as he headed for the door.

“You too Miss Granger.”  He said stopping as another man wondered in her doorway.

“You ready to go ‘Miony?”  He asked with a goofy grin on his face.

“In a moment Ron.”  She said smiling at her boyfriend before turning back to collect the last of her things.

“That kid has an attitude,”  Ron said as he looked down the hall.

“Tom?”  She asked frowning.  “He’s brilliant.” She said shaking her head.  “My best student.” She said as she walked over and kissed Ron before they headed home.

When they returned from holiday, her classroom had been vandalized.  With marigolds thrown on every surface. She frowned as she looked at her once most sacred place and she couldn’t help as her eyes glazed over.

“Miss Granger?”  Tom asked as he came to see what was wrong.  “Are you okay?” He asked as he looked over what the vandals had done.

“Look at what they did to our classroom.”  She sighed and took Tom’s hand as she shook her head.

“Would you like help to clean it up?”  He asked carefully.

She smiled at him squeezed his hand.  “Thank you, Tom. That would be appreciated.”

It was comforting having him there as they cleaned everything.  It has looked much worse than it was. Hermione leaned down and picked up one of the marigolds.  She knew exactly who had done this, they had all but signed the deed.

She went over to her desk where she had the book on the language of flowers and looked for the flower’s meaning.

“Cruelty?”  She asked the air and her frown only deepened.

“More like grief and jealousy.”  Tom corrected making her look up at him.  “I thought about it, and I was going to put this on your desk if you hadn’t already seen.”  He added as he pulled a carefully wrapped flower from his bag and placed it on the desk next to her.

She unwrapped it and pulled out the purple hyacinth.  “It means I’m sorry.” He told her, so she didn’t have to look it up.

“Tom.”  She said with a sigh, sounding more tired than angry to her ears.

“I’m a senior Miss Granger, Hermione.  I know school rules don’t permit such a thing.  But you are the most brilliant woman I’ve ever met and the only teacher here worthy of my time.”

“Mr. Riddle, this isn’t appropriate.”  She said as she looked up to find he was looking at her with an intensity he usually reserved for call discussions.  “Not only because of school rules, but I have a boyfriend.”

“He’s an idiot that makes you cry.”  He pressed. “But I can wait, Miss Granger.  I am nothing if not patient. I’m not one to give up on the things I want; I am sure I have made that clear in my academic pursuits.”

She gave him a kind smile.  “No more flowers Mr. Riddle, no more secret devotions of love.”

“For now.”

Your Way

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Summary: It was a game for her, but something much more severe to him.  Tom and Hermione elite jewel thieves and there seems to be a bit of a rivalry, and maybe something more.  “Don’t think I’m letting you get away with that, darling.” Prompt from @weestarmeggie17 on Tumblr.

Pairings: Hermione/Tom

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.


Tom listened closely as deft fingers moved the combination this way and that.  He was an artist when it came to safes, and there was a sense of peace as he worked with a single focused mind.

He smiled to himself as the safe opened to him like they all did and opened it greedily.  He was after the famous diadem of Ravenclaw, and he had finally tracked it down to the old bitty’s collection.  He was just a breath away from getting it after a five-year search.

When he opened the door, his eyes moved over stacks of jewels and frowned as he didn’t see it at first.  Then he smiled again as he noted the velvet box tucked into the back was just the right side.

He reached passed all the other treasures and picked up the box with delight.  It was finally his! He opened the box happily and almost growled as he found a led weight and a red notecard with two simple words on it.

Thanks Honey

He was going to kill her.  He recognized the little calling card, and it wasn’t the first time he had gotten a little note from her.  But this time she had gone too far.

He took the card and shoved the rest of the box back into its place.  Oh no, he wasn’t leaving any evidence for the cops to find when someone finally noticed the diadem was missing.  No no. She was his.


She was in a good mood as she entered her London flat.  It was good to be home, and she couldn’t help but be pleased with herself that she had gotten to yet another piece right out from under his nose.

She went to put down her luggage only to find him sitting in a chair in her living room as if he owned the place.

“Tom.” She said casually as if his presence so soon after her heist didn’t rattle her in the least.

“Where is it, darling?”  He asked without taking his eyes off of her.

“Where’s what?”  She asked in an innocent tone, but she couldn’t keep the smirk from her lips.  She did love to rub things in just a little

“You know what.”  He said as he stood slowly with a menacing aura around him.  “Don’t think I’m letting you get away with that, darling.”

“Already with the buyer honey.”  She said sweetly, as she decided to make herself a drink.  There was nothing he could do to her.

Tom tried to contain his displeasure with the situation, but it was pretty clear he would be out for blood.

“It’s only business; you shouldn’t take it so personally.”  She said as she poured them each a sifter of excellent brandy.  Only the best for the two top jewel thieves in the world.

“I want the diadem.”  He said as he took the glass from her as he tried to control his anger.  “You’re going to tell me exactly who this buyer is.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.  “And have them think that I open my mouth?”  She shook her head.

His free hand slipped effortlessly around her neck, and he squeezed just a bit. Her breath caught as she looked into his burning eyes.

“You’re going to tell me, Hermione.”  He told her, as he moved in very close to intimidate her.

“I’m really not.”  She answered as she would not be intimidated.

He downed his drink and set the glass on the bar behind her, his body leaning further into hers.  “Tell me, and save yourself a lot of pain.”  He promised in a low whisper against her ear.

“That’s not how this game works Tom.”  She answered with a smirk before nipping at his ear playfully.

“Have it your way, but know, this time you’ve pissed me off.”  His other hand moved into her curls before he pulled her into a savage and violent kiss.

 

Ballerina

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Summary:  Sometimes life is better with a companion, no matter what the form. Prompt by @kyoki777 on Tumblr “No strings attached.”

Pairings: Luna/Tom

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.


Tom watched the little ballerina dance in the store window.  It was a shop of curios and babbles, but the sign in the window read simply: Dancing Magical Doll, No Strings Attached.  Usually, such items held no interest for someone like him.  Dark objects were his forte, but something about the way the doll moved drew his eye.

One could plainly see her hinges and seams, but she moved more like an organic thing.  She looked old as well. She was not an item the store owner had made themselves.

Before he could think better of it, Tom pushed his way into the shop and put on the mask of a bemused shopper.

“How does it work?”  He asked as he motioned his head to the window.

The clerk looked at the window and gave Tom a warm smile.  “No one has been able to figure out. As long as light shines on her, she would continue to dance.”  The woman said with a shrug as she appraised Tom for a moment. “Have a sister with a birthday; she is sure to delight any little girl.”  She said in moving a bit forward.

Tom wondered if half the women he was around noticed they were flirting with him.

“How much?  I have someone who may find it interesting.”  He said as he thought he could take her apart to see how the charms worked.

She was soon tucked away in a small box after Tom talked the woman down from her original price.  He wouldn’t be surprised if the store took a loss on the ballerina as the girl was so eager to please the handsome Tom Riddle.

He couldn’t bring himself to take her apart, as every time he took her out of her box, she would grace him with a mysterious dance that seemed meant for him alone.  She became something of a friend as time passed. He would talk to her as he worked and talking helped him make his plans more clear to himself and later to his followers.

Somehow she became as vital to him as his wand, something he felt less himself without.  As days turned to weeks, and weeks to years he spent less and less time trying to figure out her mysteries and just enjoyed her silent companionship.

He had had her nearly ten years when something finally changed.  He had her dancing nearby his campfire as he looked over his map when the light of a full moon came out from behind the cloud cover.

He didn’t even look up at the sight of the moon and stars in his remote campsite; he cared little for the beauty of nature around him.

“Tom, you should look.  You’re missing it.” His ballerina said, and it just felt so natural that her dazed tone belonged to his companion he didn’t think for a moment about the fact she shouldn’t have a voice at all.

“I think, we’re lost.”  He said waving his hand to let her know there were more important things than whatever she was saying.

“One can’t be lost when they always know where to find themselves.”  She told him, and it slowly dawned on him that she was indeed talking.

Slowly he looked up from the map to find his ballerina kneeling next to him, her smile as beautiful as the painted lips of the doll.

But she wasn’t a doll any longer; she was a full sized girl.  She just looked up at him expectantly as if she had not just been a doll only moments before.

“You’re real.”  He told her as his eyes took in that every detail was the same. She was only more real now, more human; she was more herself.

“I’ve always been real Tom, but you’re missing the moon.” She told him as she looked back in the direction of the sky.

He looked as well and saw the moon seemed larger than life out in the remote wilderness.  His mind wasn’t taking the view in as he tried to figure out what this all meant. His ballerina was real, his only friend and the only one he trusted was a real woman.

“Will this last?”  He found himself asking; he didn’t know what he hoped for more.  On the one hand, having his ballerina be real all the time would be enjoyable, but real women would not like to be kept in boxes and hidden away from the world.  Did this mean he would have to share her?

“I am Luna.”  She said as if that was her answer.  “Things will work out the way they are supposed to.”  She added before resting her head on his knee.

Blushing Bride

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Summary: It is Ginny’s wedding day and her ex and  soon to be brother stops in for a very heated visit.

Pairings: Tom/Ginny, Harry/Ginny

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.


She glared at him as he dared to step into her private dressing room wearing an expensive suit and a sinful smirk.  The suit fit him like it was painted on and he wore it with the confidence and attitude of a man that knew how good he looked.  He probably could have been wearing a trash bag and would have looked good.

“What do you want Tom?”  She asked as she purposefully turned away from the view.  She didn’t need him getting into her head today of all days.

“I’ve come to check on my soon to be sister.”  He said in a tone that wasn’t fooling either of them.

“Right.”  She said as she walked over to the mirror to check herself over for the dozenth time.  She liked the old dress given to her by Lily Potter; it made her feel like she was genuinely welcome to the family.

It wasn’t anything fancy, but the cotton lace design was elegant in its simplicity. When Tom moved up behind her in the mirror and rested his hands on her hips, she froze in place.  All thoughts of his dress disappear with one whiff of his cologne.

“I wanted to give you one last chance Ginny.”  He said as he took one hand and purposefully pushed the cascade of red curls over her shoulder.  “Be mine.” He said, his tone demanding as he leaned in and nipped the place at the back of her neck that he knew drive her wild.

“You don’t love me, Tom, Harry does.”  She tried to pull away. His hands moved back to her hips to pull her back against his chest.

“I want you.”  He said as if that meant the same thing.  “The offer is fair my dear. It’s more than anything my brother could give you in a lifetime.”  He said with a sneer as he snaked a hand around to her stomach.

“We’ve talked about this.  I want more. I want a family, and I want love, and I love Harry.” She said hating herself for not struggling more to pull away from him, but he knew just how to touch her.

“You love me, Ginny.” He whispered her as his hand slipped into the top of the v neckline of her dress so he could fondle her breast.  “You are settling for him,”  Tom explained in a tone that said he thought she was being an idiot.  Then he pinched her nipple hard enough to make her gasp.

“Fuck you, Tom.”  She whimpered and pulled away and spun so she could look him in the eyes.  “You can’t come in here today and think I’m just going to leave your brother at the altar to be ke…”  He cut her off with his lips pressed roughly against hers.

He quickly pushed her back, so she was pressed against the mirror.  He trapped her there so she wouldn’t be able to get away again.

“That is exactly what I had in mind for today.”  He said darkly, as he wrapped his hand around her neck to keep her pinned.  “You know what will make me stop. If you want me to stop just say the word.”  He commanded, his eyes on fire as he drank in her expression.

“Fuck you, Tom.”  She said again pushing at his chest with both hands.

“Those aren’t the words.”  He said tauntingly right before he savaged her mouth.  This time his free hand moved down her form and searched out the hem of the dress.  “You don’t want me to stop, or you would make me.” He taunted against her lips.

“Tom please?”  She gasped because it felt so good but she knew what to say to make him stop.  She knew he would walk away with one simple word. Why didn’t she just say it?

“Don’t worry honey; I’m going to give you exactly what you want.”  He said in a criminal tone. His hand finally found the white lace knickers she had bought specially for today, and he ripped them from her body in a violent tug as if they meant nothing.

“This is wrong.  I hate you.” She growled even as she arched her body into his every touch.

His fingers easily slid inside of her after that, and she let out a mewing sound while his hand around her neck tightened just a little.

“And yet you are all wet my little slut.”  He taunted as first one, and then a second finger moved in and out of her core.

The hands grasped onto his shoulder as his thumb moved in circles around her clit and her knees threatened to give out.

“Say it, Ginny.”  He ordered in his dark and controlled tone that always sent shivers through her.  “Tell me whos slut you are. Pretty little whore all in white practically fucking herself against my hand.  Say it.” He hissed enjoying the way she gave her just the right mix of submission and defiance.

“Fuck you.”  She growled, and he tightened his hold on her neck again, it was getting a little hard to breathe but that was only making everything he did better.

“Not until you tell me what you are.”  He threatened, his thumb making her jerk as he brushed the pad back and forth over her clit.  “Come for me slut. I want you to come all over my hand.”

He said an grinned as she let out a little cry and her sex constricted around his digits.  She was still so responsive to his touch and his needs he wondered how she had stayed away for so long.

“Admit what you are, or I am going to make you choke on my cock.”  He said as he tortured her now oversensitive sex. “Tell me whos slut you are or I will put your mouth to better use.”

“Harry’s,”  She said with a wide grin on her face as she knew exactly how much that would piss him off.

He tightened his hold on her neck, and she could see his control crack just a little.  He shoved her roughly and ruined the soft curls of her hair as he yanked her head back.  “Last chance my little toy before I come in your mouth.”

“Fuck.  You.” She said glaring up him with all the fire she had.  He smirked as he opened his fly and made good on his word.


“I’ve known Ginny for just about as long as I’ve known my brother,”  Tom said with a raised as he looked around the room of the reception his usual charming mask firmly in place.  “I remember when she used to follow us around and got into just as much trouble as any of the boys. I remember when Harry told me he was taking her to prom and the sweet pretty much every step of their sweet romance since.  All I hope now is for them to continue with the kind of relationship they’ve had since that first day.” He finished, and everyone took a drink of champagne.

When he sat back next to his adoptive brother Tom watched the father of the bride stand to make his speech and made sure everyone was paying attention then so he could lean into the groom.

“It’s going to be the exact kind of relationship you’ve always had.”  He said as Harry looked over at him a bit oddly. “Play house with her all you like, but I’ve already given the blushing bride five orgasms today.  Let’s see how many you can get out of her tonight.”

Sense of Submission

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The post for today is going to be chapter 19 of Shame’s Desire.  I am trying really hard to get this one finished and done so I can turn my focus towards other things.  Wish me luck I have like.. Sevenish chapters left to write

It is time to talk about my most popular series Sense of Submission.  I know it isn’t exactly a series yet for you guys because I have only one story posted, but I swear you are going to get more soonish.  I actually have the first two chapters of Sound of Submission written and I am just waiting until I have a bit more and have finished Shame’s Desire to start posting it.

The Sense of Submission series has five books planned for it.  One for each of the five senses.  If your interested in the order of the senses they are smell, sound, taste, touch, and then sight.  I don’t have an outline for them all yet, but I have chosen the main villains/obstacles Harry will be facing in each one.

In the first book Harry easily settled into his position as a Dark Wizard.  Some the people around him had a harder time with this than others, but in the end he seems to have brought all his new allies together.  He even saved Hermione from a the fate of serving an unworthy master.

In the following books Harry will slowly reveal in existent of his plans to those who are closest to him.  He isn’t trusting easily in these books because he knows that it may be hard for some of those he’s known for years to understand the change in him and not think of him as evil right away.  On the sexual front this series will continue to be harem in nature, with Hermione being Harry main focus and favorite.  It will obviously explore more and maybe even darker BDSM themes.  There will also be future side chapters for the other characters such as Ron/Luna, Ginny/Snape, and other yet to be announced couples that will form.  But I’m not going into fortune plot any more than that, as I know you all would rather read it in a story than than just have me spoil it all in my blog.

As nothing for the future stories are in stone yet, I would be interested to hear you ideas.  You see Sense of Submission all started because I asked my readers what they would like to read so it seems with tradition if I ask you again.  What other pairings would you like to see form?  What kinky things should Harry or others subject our submissives to?  (Oh and for those of you who were wondering, I have a few male subs and female Doms in the works.)  I interested to know what you all want and what you think.

The Process

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As always let me start by saying I have posted a new chapter to Shame’s Desire.  And let me add that I have written several more that I hope to post over the next few weeks… I thought I was getting near the end of the story, but I keep having to add chapters as things don’t move as quickly as I thought they would.  Originally I thought this story would be about 20 chapters, and now it is looking to be at least 27.  So I keep writing and get no closer to the end…  But if all goes to plan I will have it finished by the end of the summer and I will start posting on Sound of Submission which is currently being written too!

This week I thought I would talk a bit more about the process of writing fiction.  There doesn’t seem to be any single “right” way of doing this.  Each author has their own process and the only thing that matters is that it gets results for them.  So really I can only speak of my own process because it is the one I know best.  I find that when I am working on any story I have four stages of development.

There is of course the inspiration for the story.  This is when that little plot bunny usually jumps up out of nowhere and screams “write me write me”.  On a good day I have about three to ten plot bunnies.  Which I quickly murder like 90% of them.  You all have seen the ones that survive, can you imagion how bad the ones that don’t are?  You don’t want to read the where Hermione is stuck in the world of Minecraft.  Anyway.  Getting the ideas is always the most simple of the stages.

The next stage in the process I call outlining.  This is when I grow the idea from a simple spark like, a Dark Harry shows Hermione her place as his submissive, into a full story.  This is where I ask questions like; why is Harry Dark, or why is Hermione his focus?  I start to outline the main plot points I want to include.  For some stories I make detailed maps for where they will lead, while for others only get bullet points to hit as I am going along.  And there are also those that get this step skipped as they seem to have no idea where they are going until they get there.  Examples of each of these are easy.  Smell of Submission has a very detailed plot web with spreadsheets and seating charts.  Face of Death actually is mainly bullet points that I want to hit on each chapter.  And my recent story His Blood sort of just went where it wanted to go.

After a put thought into a story it is time to start writing.  The writing stage for me is hard to describe.  And at times the story doesn’t go where I mentioned planned because in the passion of a scene my characters don’t do what I had planned for them.  There are times when I an utterly surprised with the path my characters choose and I find I am following where they lead.

Many have complained about the fact that in my story Blind Nymph Ginny had sex with Blaise when it was obvious that Draco cared for her and that she cared for him.  They I have many reviews and comments saying out she was being spiteful or silly or just mean.  But when I was writing the scenes leading up to that choice it was my character with her frustration, and fear, and own anxiety that decided a man like Blaise was the safer choice BECAUSE she didn’t care about him the same way she cared about Draco.

There is a scene in Face of War where Lord Voldemort drives the dark mark into Ginny’s hip with such force that it marks her very bone.  That dramatic event was not what I ever had in mind when I started writing the scene.  Originally there was going to be pain for Ginny, a punishment of some kind, but then Tom just broke and he needed to not only punish her, but mark her as his so that she could never say otherwise.

It us a rush for me when things like that happen. I tend to be very connected to my characters and I swear there is adrenaline pumping when there are high energy scenes like that.  When I get so focused in on what the characters are doing and feeling that the rest of the world just drops away and I am surrounding by a world of my own making.  For better or worse that feeling is the reason I write.

Don’t get me wrong, I love your comments and reviews and responses very much.  And each one brings a smile to my face to know that someone else is enjoying what I put out into the world.  But if responses were my only reason for writing, I would probably have stopped a long while ago.  My stories aren’t really popular enough to merit me writing for simple ego’s sake.

Okay so I went a little off on a tangent there…

After I get all the emotion and plot and 😉 smut on the page the editing starts.  First I’ll reread the chapter myself to find any obvious errors or mistypes.  Then I send it to a wonderful woman named Eclectic Pet who reads them over and makes more edits.  When she sends it back I read over it again to look at her edits and see if I like everything.  Depending on how many non minor edits she makes we may do this process several times before I mark a chapter as Ready to Post.

The End.

Now I want to take another moment of this post to mention Eclectic Pet again.  I would say she is my number one fan.  The reason she edits my work is because she loves to read it, and she offered several years ago to be my beta.  The only payment she gets for her work is she gets to read chapters before everyone else.  She already knows how Sound of Submission starts, and how the rewrite of Quidditch Lessons is going.  But really that isn’t much of a payment.  She is a vital part of my process and even though she has her own job, life, and writing to work on, she takes time to edit mine.  I guess what I am trying to say is that I am grateful for her, and this is the only due I can really give her for everything she does to make my stories better.

Thank you Eclectic Pet.