Poe: Poems

My name is Nova Coldwell. There are three things you should know about me: 1. I’m my father’s biggest disappointment. 2. His best friend watches me at night. 3. He has no idea I’m the girl behind the screen. I’m a college student by day. A cam girl by night. And completely off-limits to the only man who sees me. He calls me VelvetMistress. I call him Daddy’s dirty secret. But what happens when masks fall… …and the lies we told start to hurt?

Jacob Price is the prey. As a consequence of the immoral thing he did with someone else's wife, he got kidnapped. In his wake, he is told that he is on a private island away from civilization. Told to participate in a Manhunt where he will be the prey and will be pursued by armed and violent hunters. What happens if he gets caught? Simple… DEATH! Series of killings and pain, betrayals, revelations, and danger. He plans to end this game, and a tribe of survivors is on his side. When bad luck makes a sudden twist and hits you hard, would you survive THE MANHUNT?

“You,” Hades snarled, his eyes burning into Claudine’s, “are a viper in my bed. A ticking time bomb.” Claudine’s lips curved into a chillingly beautiful smile. “Darling, in your bed, I’m whatever you desire.” ~~~~ This isn’t your typical enemies-to-lovers romance. This is the story of the infamous daughter of the worlds greatest russian Kalashnikov Omerta,a woman driven by vengeance, who wanted the downfall of Hades Vancouver, the dangerous American mafia leader. Death was too merciful a punishment for the man who murdered her parents. But in a twist of fate, she’s caught in his grip and forced into marriage with him—the very man she swore to destroy. To Hades, she’s not simply his wife. She’s a snake he’s obsessed with, a woman he wants to bend to his will and claim in every way imaginable. Her true identity is hidden from him, but he’s been obsessed since the first night he fingered her into a screaming, squirt-filled orgasm that felt like a soul-shifting experience. The same night she stole from him. Now, trapped in a deadly game of forced proximity, where desire is both a weapon and a weakness, one wrong move could ignite a war that consumes them all. But when Hades discovers the tracker in her old gunshot wound, a relic of a past encounter, the game changes. Read on to find out if things were falling out of place for these characters, or perhaps things were falling into the right places.

Tunnels deconstructs the individual’s Romantic fascination with ‘love’ or the grammaticality of beauty. Ideally, the ‘tunnels’ in the collection are subterranean love poems from the suburban imaginary. These seemingly syntactic tunnels travel through one’s literary imagination or heterotopic dreamscapes, and while αγάπη (Greek for ‘love’) inspires these rhizomic tunnels to navigate the abysmal ‘meta-spectacle’ of gesture, language or moment of poemness, the mind like the many-colored jeepneys of Manila, where driving past roast goose restaurants in Shek Kip Mei or spotting stilt houses in Kampong Kleang, attempt to explore the transgeneric textualities of the everyday, alongside the unstructurality of time and space, the littoral and the liminal.

While cleaning Desmond Maynard's house, I accidentally knocked over his mother's keepsake. He once told me it was his most precious possession. But when I picked it up, hundreds of love letters spilled out. There were beautiful poems, passionate lyrics, and heartfelt confessions. He had written one letter a week without stopping. On the back of each one wrote a line: To My Love, Bunny. The nickname rang a bell. It was his junior in college. Things started to make sense. I slaved away for 13 years, running his household and caring for his family, but Desmond never even said he liked me. That was because he already had someone he liked. I sorted the letters by date, put them back, and grabbed my phone to make a call. "Mom, I'm in for the marriage proposal."