A Boy Named Khwahish now available!!

Okay, I’m a terrible author, because I forgot today was when my book was going to be published (despite being given this information a long time ago), and only realised that it had gone live after I clicked on the buying link out of curiosity which is mother flippin’ awful of me D: D: D:
And I also have an exam in 48 hours that I HAVEN’T STUDIED FOR because I procrastinated D: D: D: D:
But yeah this is it this is a very short, ranty, panicky blog post saying that my book is now live, I’m scared for my life because finals, and also, I’m alive and haven’t actually disappeared into the void?

But yes,


The last year of school was supposed to be a stressful mess, but Sathya never expected it would get this stressful or this messy. He’s pissed off with his parents, his best friend is convinced something is wrong with him, and there’s a new guy with a pretty face and dazzling eyes, and Sathya just can’t seem to ignore him.
Or rather, Sathya doesn’t want to ignore him.

Word Count: 10k
Tags: Young Adult, Contemporary, Multicultural, Coming of age, Indian high schools, first loves, friggin fluffy
Content Warnings: Homophobic family

buy on smashwords Buy on Amazon
Buy at Beaten Track all-romance

I’m going to figure out if I can do a giveaway but that’ll have to wait till exams end I’m afraid D:


Surprise! It’s a new book!

So I wrote something for the Take a Chance anthology that’s being published by Beaten Track, and I kinda forgot about it eventually haha. And then today I got an email that my book’s up for preorder like whaaa??? How cool is that?!

So here it is:

wpid-wp-1447532529481.jpg The last year of school was supposed to be a stressful mess, but Sathya never expected it would get this stressful or this messy. He’s pissed off with his parents, his best friend is convinced something is wrong with him, and there’s a new guy with a pretty face and dazzling eyes, and Sathya just can’t seem to ignore him.
Or rather, Sathya doesn’t want to ignore him.

It’s a multicultural, young adult, queer romance set in India. In high-school, no less. Exams are mentioned multiple times, because that’s how things are if you’re in high school in India. There are always exams.

This story is pretty special to me, because of the setting and the characters. Because I drew on my own experiences of high school, and the setting is kinda nostalgic to me (even more so now that I’m not living in India).

It’s available for preorder now from multiple sites:

buy at beaten track buy on amazon

I hope you guys enjoy the book when it comes out!


Thursday’s Tiny Tales: Mystery

Jose quickly darted his gaze away before the hot guy he’d been looking at caught him. He kept his eyes averted on purpose, so he didn’t notice when someone came up to the counter.
“Hey, wanna go out this weekend?”
It took a moment for him to realise that it was hot guy who was speaking to him. “Wh- you mean me?”
Hot guy nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah. I saw you checking me out.”
Jose felt his face heat up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable–”
Hot guy shook his head, his expression still serious. “I’m not here about that, though. Do you not wanna guntitled-designo out then?”
“Am I being punked? Are you seriously asking me?”
“No I’m not punking you. Yeah I’m serious. So?”
Jose considered it, and finally nodded, smiling shyly. “I… yeah, I’d like to go out with you.”
“Good. Is Sunday okay for you? We can go to that beer for dogs event. You like dogs?”
“Yeah, I like dogs,” Jose said, still a little disbelieving.
Finally, a small smirk appeared on his face, and he placed a napkin on the counter. “Cool, cool. So here’s my number. Call me.”
“Okay, but–”
“I gotta run now. See ya Sunday.”
“Wait,” Jose called out, but he was already gone. “What’s your name though…”

Thursday’s Tiny Tales: Noises Like Words

It’s silent in the house because it’s 2 am and his roommates are asleep.

He opens the website and quickly scrolls through the listings, checking to see if there’s anything new posted.

Ah, bingo. And it’s his favorite artist too.

He debates playing the audio file on speaker vs. playing it on his headphones, and in the end decides on the latter.

When he gets under his sheets, the bed feels like a block of ice and he shivers, with both the chill and the arousal that’s already flooding his body at the thought of what’s coming next.

He wears the headphones, and presses play.

A smooth voice purrs low in his ears.Noises Like Words (2)

“My my, what have we here? What’s a lad like you doing in my neck of the woods now, hmm?”

The voice is all bass, and the posh British accent makes his insides coil tight. He imagines himself in a forest, backed up against a tree by a faceless, humanoid creature. He stutters, trying to answer, but is shushed.

“Well, it doesn’t matter now anyway, does it? You’re here now, and I think I’m going to keep you here. You are such a fine specimen… it’s been a while since I had someone as stunning as you to keep me company. What do you say, boy?” A pause. “Are you afraid of me? Oh, dear boy, I would never harm you. I have no need to, after all. I just want to talk, and spend some time getting to know you. It gets dreadfully boring here, you know. Would you grant me the pleasure of your company?”

He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, exhaling a ‘yes’ into the air of his room.

The voice picks up, as if on cue. “That’s a good lad. Come along now, my den’s just over there… what is it, boy, can you not walk? Are you hurt? Let me see now… Oh, what’s this? Are you aroused, my sweet boy? What part of me caused that reaction, I wonder? Is it my strong arms and clawed hands? My furred legs? My scarred face? Or is it… my voice?” A low chuckle flows out of the earphones and into his ears, soothing and yet exciting. “Oh, you like that do you? You like me talking? What would you do if I came closer like this, and spoke close to your ear, tickling your delicate cartilage with my rough whiskers and filthy words? Would my darling like it better if I opened your trousers and grasped your prick, all the while telling you what I’m going to do to your beautiful body? Hmm?”

With all his focus on the voice purring dirty words in his ear, he doesn’t even realise that he’s sliding a hand into his boxers and moaning softly.

“Oh, look at how responsive you are, darling. Such a pleasure to look at your flushed face and hear your keening moans. It’s all for me, isn’t it? You’re mine, aren’t you?” A pause, filled with heavy breathing. “Aren’t you?”

The slick noises in his ears drown out the slick noises that he’s making in the dark of his bedroom, and he gasps, ‘Ye-yes!’.

“Good boy,” the voice purrs, becoming rougher with soft grunts, and the slick noises pick up in speed. “Such a good boy, my good boy. That’s it. Do you feel me against you, darling? Do you feel my breath on your neck and my hands on your skin? Do you feel how I squeeze your cock? Do you think you can come for me like this, lad? You can? That’s a very good boy now. Come on lad, come for me now.”

Toes curling, muscles clenching, he comes in his boxers, coating his hand.

In his ears, the purring voice continues. “There you are. Shh, shhh… You were such a sweet boy for me. There you go, my pretty little lad. My good boy. Sleep now, little one. Sleep…”

And he does, his heaving breath mingling with the steady, strong breathing in his ears.

Thursday’s Tiny Tales: Trap

Content warning: This is dark and mentions violence, blood, and non-con. 

Horny men were the easiest prey.

So easy, they were pathetic.

All Ren needed to do was lie in a secluded thicket, thickly scented with his own blood and slick. An injured omega in heat, the very picture of helplessness.

The perfect trap.

It was sickening how many fell for it.

Any Alpha male who came within a hundred feet of him caught a whiff of his perfume, and when they did, they came to investigate.

Not the friendly, concerned kind of investigation though, of course. It was the kind that wanted to take advantage of weakness.

They’d swagger in his direction, nostrils flared, dicks hard, wide sneers on their faces. Ren lay still and trembling, body language defensive.

He’d tell them to stay away. They never listened.

So Ren gave them what they deserved when they were too distracted with taking what they wanted from him. It gave Ren the sweetest satisfaction to watch as their life blood drained from their slit throats.

He looked up when he heard someone approaching, but relaxed when he scented his pack mate.

Mai smiled at him. “Good hunt, Ren?”

Ren smiled back after he licked the blood off his lips and tossed the rib he’d been chewing on. “Isn’t it always?”


Hm. I don’t quite know why this went where it did. I promise my next Tiny Tale will see me going back to fluff.

Thursday’s Tiny Tales: Labscapades 2

Wes loved handling the ninety-six-well plate in the lab. Pipetting was a meditative process, and he loved the rhythm of it: press the plunger of the micropipette, dip its tip in the vial of dye, draw the dye into the tip, transfer into the plate. Then repeat, changing the tip for every row.

It was nice. A little boring, but nice nonetheless.

He switched out the plate he completed for a new one. The lab was pretty empty, but he still checked to see if anyone, especially Hugh, was standing around. When he was sure no one was watching him, he turned back to the plate and contemplated it.

With a slight smile, he dipped the tip into the dye and started. He filled the wells in a pattern, starting with a well in the middle of the plate and moving upwards. When he finished the outline, he moved on to filling it in.

He set his pipette down and admired his plate, pleased at the neat heart that was now visible in it. He thought of taking a picture of it, and maybe making a nerdy valentine out of it. but before he could reach for his phone, a hand squeezed his shoulder, and Wes nearly fell off his stool. 96 well plate with heart design

“What the hell are you doing?”

Of course it was Hugh, the grad student who was also the TA for his Microbiology class, and the one guy Wes had a hopeless crush on.

“Uh… I was just… being creative?” Wes looked up at him and shrugged, smiling innocently.

Hugh gave him a sceptical look before his eyes flicked back to Wes’s plate. “As long as you don’t screw it up,” he muttered, before turning away to check on something else.

But Wes could swear he saw the hint of a smile on Hugh’s face.


I’ve decided to make Labscapades a little series thingie, because I love the idea of it.

I own the photo used.


Thursday’s Tiny Tale: Smile

The boy in the funky shirt was cute, but also out of his league. Max would have liked to talk to him anyway, but he seemed busy and didn’t look like he’d take kindly to being interrupted.

He’d seen him in the club room often enough, and always, he was occupied with his music or with a book, and never talked to anyone. Max thought it was kind of lonely.

The boy looked up suddenly, and Max was caught staring.

The boy raised a single eyebrow.

Max smiled and hesitantly raised a hand. Hi, he signed, waiting with bated breath to see how the boy would respond.

Hello, the boy signed back, a tentative smile blooming on his lips. Want to talk?

Max practically skipped over.


Photo credits: Bootcamp Business Model by Sebastiaan ter Burg

Thursday’s Tiny Tales: Labscapades

Wes was going to have a nerdgasm.

He tried hard to keep his eyes on the whiteboard and not on the new TA that had joined a week ago. Hugh was tall, and stern, and handsome, and really knew what he was talking about.

There wasn’t anything Wes found hotter than that.

Except maybe for the passion in Hugh’s eyes when he spoke about the subject; that was hotter.

He covetously traced the man’s broad hands with his eyes, memorizing the landscape of dark hair on his forearms, the swell of veins on the back of his hand, and the long, thick fingers that wrapped around the marker, spinning every time Hugh paused to explain a detail with clarity and precision.

He was daydreaming of just what exactly those fingers could do to him when the sound of a throat clearing brought him back to the present.

Oh shit, busted.

I know I’m a day late, but I didn’t want to skip another week, so here’s a Friday’s Tiny Tale.

Thursday’s Tiny Tales: The Neck

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from “Silent Woods”, and belong to Ofelia Gränd. She has granted me permission to write senseless things with them. She is a sweetheart.
Warning: Since this is basically a sort of “what happens after?” scenario for “Silent Woods” that my inappropriate shipper mind made up, it is FULL OF SPOILERS. Basically, if you haven’t read the book yet, you might not get this. If you haven’t read the book yet, please do so.

You can find the blurb and shop links for Silent woods at

The Neck- Thursday's tiny tales

Axel checked his backpack for the last time before he zipped it up and hoisted it onto his shoulder. His violin case was a constant black shape in his vision, but he didn’t pick it up.

“Do you have everything you need, Axel?”

“Yes, Dad. Thanks.” He gave Anders a one-armed hug before he walked out of his room and downstairs, where his other dad was still fretting about his leaving.

“Make sure to have your phone’s GPS turned on at all times, darling. And call me as soon as you get there, you hear?”

Axel smiled at Daniel, hoping to hell his dad didn’t suddenly realize that he was lying and that he wasn’t heading out to his friend’s house after all. “Dad, I’ll be fine. My phone’s all charged, and so’s my iPad, and my laptop. I’m going to the next city, not deep space. Relax.”

Daniel’s frown deepened, but he did stop pacing. Maja came out of the kitchen in her pajamas, half asleep, a piece of toast hanging out of her mouth. She gave him a wave and said a muffled goodbye before she went back upstairs.

“You should be like her,” Axel quipped to Daniel.

“A parent worries,” was his father’s response.

Axel smiled at both his dads, grateful that he had such wonderful parents, and sorry for what he was about to do. “I’ll see you guys soon. Take care.”

Daniel gave him a squeezing hug, murmuring a reminder to call back one last time before he let go. Anders hugged him after, curling a palm over the back of his head protectively, giving away with body language what he hid with his words. “Bye, son.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” Axel gave both his dads a kiss on their cheeks, and was off before Daniel could stall him with some excuse or the other.

He walked to the station and got a ticket to where his friend lived. Boarding the bus, he felt a strange sense of apprehension welling in him, and he couldn’t decide if it was excitement or dread.

Before long, the bus was traveling through the forest, and Axel felt the apprehension in his stomach curl and form into something solid and heavy. This was where he’d intended to get off all along. But should he get down? Going into the forest was sheer insanity.

He should just go to his friend’s place, and forget about the forest and the strange creature that had taught him to play the violin.

But he couldn’t, and before he knew it, he was stepping off the bus and onto the leaf strewn forest bed.

The bus smoothly moved away, leaving Axel all alone in the woods.

The forest was just as he remembered it: still and completely silent. His memories were fuzzy, but as he stepped onto the trail, pictures began coming back to him: a tree with a weird shaped branch, a rotted tree trunk on the ground, the rocks that he’d tripped on.

The brook that led to the gravel pit.

To where the Neck was.

As he followed the brook, he thought of the Neck, if he’d even see him this time. It was a Thursday, and it was midsummer. But he was neither a child nor a woman.

He shook his head, marveling at the height of idiocy his thoughts were taking. Here he was, worried that he wouldn’t be able to meet the supernatural creature who wanted to take him to an early, watery grave when he was five.

Or had he?

It had been sixteen years since the incident that had changed him and his fathers for ever. Maja didn’t remember much of it, but he did, though not the same way as his dads. Anders had never volunteered to take them camping again, and Daniel had become overprotective to the point of paranoid sometimes. They became uneasy whenever he touched the violin. They had never actually told him to keep his violin playing a secret, but he did it anyway because he could sense that it was what they wanted.

Axel hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but as he grew older, he started dreaming of that night.

He dreamed of the mournful wail of the violin and the defeated stance of the Neck. He dreamed of despondent, black eyes and a terrible loneliness.

Always, that soul sucking loneliness that he was powerless to ease, despite how badly he wanted to.

The last dream had been unbearable enough that Axel had sat up in bed and cried because he didn’t know what else to do. That had been two days ago.

The whole forest was cool and misty, the canopy dense enough that the sunlight only dappled though it here and there. There was no wind, and there was no birdsong. There was nothing. Just like sixteen years ago.

Finally, he was standing beside the Gravel Pit.

The forest seemed darker somehow, the trees closer together. The placid surface of the lake brought memories of the Neck’s dark eyes. He could imagine hearing the violin and could remember being helplessly drawn to the beautiful man that played it. There was still that strange, magnetic quality in the air, but it was barely a whisper of the actual feeling.

The water lilies weren’t as abundant as they once were. They were clustered further away from the shore, as if cowering from the land. Axel remembered what Mr. Ahlqvist had said about putting pins in the leaves to stop the Neck, and he felt an irrational stab of anger. His dads had stopped getting phone calls from Ahlqvist three years ago. The leaves should have been free to grow since then. Or had Ahlqvist passed on sentry duty to someone else?

He set his bag down on the shore, toed off his shoes and his coat. After a second’s hesitation, he pulled off his shirt as well. He stepped into the icy water, and a full body shiver ran through him. He pulled a pen knife from his pocket and made a little cut on his thumb before he threw it away from the water. Anxious and nearly on the verge of nausea, he dipped his bleeding hand into the water, saw a tendril of red spread from his thumb and then vanish.

Nothing happened.

He waded further out into the water till he reached the lilies and the pads. They were unscathed. He looked around, hoping the Neck would show himself, and when a few minutes passed, he took a huge gulp of air and went under. But it was dark as pitch and he could neither see anything, nor hear the signature sound of the violin.

He shook his head, smiling ruefully at his reflection. He was being silly. Not for believing the existence of a creature straight out of folklore, but for believing that the Neck would come to him when he was the reason why he was discovered in the first place.

This was ridiculous. He should count his blessings and leave right now.

He swam back toward the shore.

He was slipping on his right shoe when he felt it: that ragged, bone-deep loneliness again, like a tug on his entire being. He whipped around, eyes wide. There was nothing to see, but the feeling…

Acting on a hunch, he pulled out his phone. He selected the recording he’d made of himself playing the song of the Neck and pressed play, staring intently at the water.

The haunting melody filled his ears, bounced off the trees and echoed, weighing the atmosphere down with its emotion.

He thought the Neck would come now for sure, but he still didn’t.

Then the sound of another violin resonated in the forest, its sound clearer and sweeter, much more potent than his own.

From the middle of the lake, surrounded by the lilies, the Neck looked at him, a corner of his lips crooked upward as he handled the violin with magical dexterity. Axel’s skin prickled with excitement and relief.

They started at each other till the song ended. The Neck lifted his chin off the violin and cradled it in his hands, it’s glossy reddish-black sheen a stark contrast against his pale skin. Axel vaguely registered it didn’t have a chin rest.

Axel dropped his phone onto his bag and walked toward the water, but he didn’t step inside. “Hello,” he said, and swallowed, not knowing what else to say.

The Neck regarded him with a look that was almost pleased, despite how his black eyes warped the expression. “Hello again. It is good to see you. I had been very lonely.”

“I know. I could feel you in my dreams, calling me.” He paused, looking at the Neck’s face, tracing the delicate features with his eyes. He was a work of art, and Axel couldn’t believe that he existed. “I didn’t know your kind could do that.”

The Neck laughed lightly. “My kind cannot do that.”

Axel blinked. “Then how did I feel and see you so clearly?”

“I do not know. But I am glad you did. I have missed you, and I hoped you would return one day.”

The words pulled a warm ribbon of happiness and pride through his chest. “You did?”

The water rippled and the lilies shivered, despite the complete lack of a breeze. The Neck smiled a small, fond smile. “Very much.”

Axel stepped into the water, his whole being full of nothing but the need to be closer to the man that had haunted his dreams for years.

On the Neck’s lovely face, the smile widened.


Well. That went somewhere unexpected. But I’m still satisfied with how it turned out.
Happy One Year Anniversary of Silent Woods, Ofelia 🙂

Thursday’s Tiny Tales: Sunshine

There he goes, smiling and happy, talking animatedly with the people who flock to him. They can’t help but be drawn to him and his charm and warmth. He’s the sun and they’re all sunflowers, following his radiance wherever he goes.

He looks like it too, with his golden skin and golden hair and dancing blue eyes. The studs in his ears are golden too, and it’s easy to imagine him in a swirling silk robe instead of the jeans and button downs he usually prefers. A benevolent Sun God, eager to share his bounty with those less fortunate.

He opens his locker to find someone has secreted a note in it. He looks bewildered, and quickly glances around. He opens the folded up piece of cheap notebook paper. He reads what’s written in it and smiles like the rays of the morning sun, quickly stuffing the note into a compartment in his bag.

His smile is beautiful, and it makes my heart stutter when I see how pleased he is to get the note. His friend notices and asks about it, but he shakes his head. They pass me in the hall, his face turned away from me as he tries to look at his friend’s face while she pushes him to class.

He is the sun and I am not worthy of his attention, not after what I did. But I can make him smile, and that will have to be enough.