Doing It For the Coach – steamy excerpt!


To me it seems as if it’s been a long wait – but that’s only because I’m really excited about this title – my new m/m novella, Doing It For the Coach! However, now at last you can get a glimpse of it too – it’s available for early download on the Totally Bound website, before it goes global on 28 March! So let’s kick off the party with a down and dirty excerpt…

Perry continued walking till he reached the back of the lot and, in the empty space between two cars, he turned to face me. I should have known to be more careful of him. He had weight and reach on me and I knew from Moreno that he’d been an army heavyweight champion. So really, the punch that came at me shouldn’t have been the surprise it was.

I sprawled backward onto the asphalt…

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Hush Hush


Hush Hush

All the Hours of Rush, Rush,
Filling my Mind, Spinning Through,
Make me Long for the Hush, Hush,
Of Quiet Moments spent with You.

All the Madness, Turning, Churning,
Stealing the Peace You’ve Built Inside,
Leave Me Breathless, Burning, Yearning,
For the Solitude Found where You Abide.

All the Deadlines, the Push, Push,
Forcing me Onward into the Fray,
Find me Returning to the Hush, Hush,
Of All You Give, of All You Say.



Softly Seeking,

While the Hush, Hush

Is Lovingly Speaking.

Beautiful Photograph found at:

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Dark Poetry: Delirium called Life

Another wonderful work by Patty, a must read. TY


Delirium called Life

Delirium called Life

A mind wandering through the catacombs of sanity

Deprived of all humanity

Longing for the merciful death so eagerly

Reason torn up by strife


Feelings swept away by hungry madness

Overgrown by consuming coldness

Demanding the last heartbeat so anxious

Going berserk in overdrive


A soul being drenched in unescapable death

This lifeless story been read

Hoping for that ever ending last breath

Mistakenly still alive


Senses roaming through blinding emptiness

Filled with horrifying absurdness

Of a deserted life liven in pitiful loneliness

A place no one can survive


A heart beating steady on the rhythm of hatred

Bloodless thoughts, sick and twisted

Painful, destructive sorrow that never ended

In this ongoing delirium called Life

– Just Patty –

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A little note and another sneak preview!


Hey Everybody!

For some reason I am not able to comment on your posts. 😦

I hope this problem will be resolved tomorrow because it’s frustrating!

Anyways, I thought it would be nice to show you a bit more of my poetry book because I received the proof yesterday! 🙂

I amediting it for the last time and making some final adjustments.

Next month, it will ready to be published! 🙂


This is just amazing, holding my own book! 🙂


One of the poems inside my book, it’s great to see it printed! 🙂

Lots of Love,


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Listening for Miracles


Depeche Mode is one of my all time favourite bands…hands down, no contest, don’t have to think twice about it. Love Dave Gahan’s delicious baritone, love the synthetic quality of the music, love Martin Gore’s tremulous tenor, love his gift with words…. but this particular song has always made me sad. Not because of the obvious reasons though, not because the girl dies or because the poor mother is grief-stricken, (sorry, spoiler alert!) but because Martin, David, and perhaps the enitre audience, doesn’t seem to hear the Miracle contained in his lyrics.

First, if you are unfamiliar with the song, Blasphemous Rumours, then you should take a moment to listen to it before continuing on…(just a suggestion, really)

Sad tale? Yes. God vindictive and unfair? No. Absolutely Not. Why not? How not? Look at it from another angle:

Sad Girl is lost, alone, hurting, who knows why, we aren’t told…

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Masked Man

Buttercup's Bullshit


With hooded eyes he watches

his lustful gaze mesmerizing

he glides like a predator stalking

ready to pounce so smoothly

his words a masterful mix of

enchantments meant to entice

even the most mistrustful prey

his poems are his sword

he slays hearts as he composes

a wicked path of destruction

leaving broken pieces in his wake

spinning his tales of

adoration and desire

he moves in for the kill

his soft lips speak

drawing her in

he is the assassin of admirers

and she his willing victim

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