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keep-the-wolves-close · 9 months ago

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Steady Heart

Chapter 15: Every Bird that Flies

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

* Warnings: language, Stella running into a private conversation (yet again), John agreeing to have her involved further.

* Word count: 3,668ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well!

Stella greeted the day earlier than she thought she would have. She meandered through the kitchen as quiet as she could, not wanting to wake anyone. Pulling the coffee tin and filters out of the cupboard she set to work getting a few cups going.

Lloyd came out to greet her. “What’re you doin’ awake lil’ bit?”

“Coffee. Also gotta go up the mountain. Just waitin’ on Rip.” Jake came out and joined them. Most of the men were usually quiet this early. Most of them were just barely waking up. Jake and Lloyd were always the first. Stella poured coffee into three mugs and passed them off to the two men. There were mumbles of gratitude as the men took over and made their coffees how they liked. Stella smiled warmly at them and took a seat at the table in her brother's usual spot.

The trio sat finishing their coffees in quiet company at the table as the bunkhouse came to life around them. The percolating of the coffee maker behind her got louder toward the end of its cycle. Stella had run it again in a bigger batch for the rest of the wranglers. Ryan came around the corner and made his way to her. He wrapped his arm around her neck in a sleepy hug.

She chuckled and squeezed his forearm. “Mernin,” she said quietly as she let him go. He had zeroed in on the coffee. “You’re welcome for that pot being ready by the way.”

He grunted like a caveman in thanks. “What’s on your schedule today?” Ryan asked, his voice still gravelly from sleep.

She leaned back in her chair and propped her elbow on the back rest to face her brother better. “Well,” she cleared her throat, “I gotta go up the mountain again with Rip and Mr. Dutton.”

“Again?” Ryan turned around and leaned against the counter with his cup in hand. Colby came out and joined her brother at the counter.

She nodded. “Unfortunately, but this time there will be no mishaps. I’m hoping it’ll all be over after this.”

“You and me both.” The door opened and Rip came into the house interrupting any further conversation.

“C’mon.” He waved at Stella with his fingers for her to come along. He turned on his heel and headed back outside.

She sipped up what was left in her mug and stood. She placed the mug in the sink. Reaching out for Ryan, she gave him a quick hug. “Before you even say anything, I promise I’ll be careful.”

“Please do so because if I have to come out there after you again,” he left the sentence open-ended as he let her go.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll regret it. Blah blah blah.” She could hear the men chuckle as she whisked out the door.

John and Rip were there to greet her, waiting on their horses. Rip had Abigail set up and ready to go next to him, her reins in his hand. Stella’s face lit up in surprise. “Oh hey. I’m allowed to go?” She smiled at John and reached out her hand to Rip to take the reins from him. She thought she was going to have another argument on her hands, but was pleasantly surprised John had eased up. Giving Abigail a few pats, she stepped up into her seat.

“Figured it’s too late to turn back now. And I was reminded of a few things that I had forgotten.” John explained and legged his horse on.

Stella frowned at the vagueness and looked at Rip. “What did he need to be reminded of?”

“Just a little something you carry with you. Always.” He headed off to catch up to John.

Stella’s face scrunched together even further and her mouth dropped open. “What is this? Lord of the fucking Rings? Why are we talking in riddles?” She hurried Abigail to catch up to the men, all while grumbling to herself about men being annoying.

Stella stood off to the side with Rip and John. Thunder rumbled overhead, but it sounded louder than it would if they were down in the valley. ‘Perks of being up high on the mountain like Vince Gill talked about.’ She cleared her throat to keep her giggle in.

The fish and wildlife officer, Sullivan as Stella had read on his name bar, walked around the bear carcass inspecting what was left. “I can’t tell anything from this.” It had been eaten at, most likely by wolves, sometimes during the night. “Where were you two standing?”

“I was standing right over there.” Rip turns and points to the tree.

“I was by the tree, but scooted back a bit farther when the bear charged, sir.” The rain started to pour down as Stella finished her sentence. She pulled up the hood on her jacket and tucked her glasses in one of the pockets on the inside.

Officer Sullivan looked to Haskell. “Any shell casings?”

“Looked, didn’t find anything cause I don’t think they were standing there.” Donnie shrugged nonchalantly. It was like he was inconvenienced to be there.

Stella squinted at the sheriff, clenching her fist. She leaned toward John and whispered. “He’s so full of shit. Can I hit him?”

John grunted in response. He walked over to the tree and looked back in the direction of the bear. He kneeled down onto the balls of his feet and looked at the ground. “Rip. Get my rifle.”

Rip traveled across the hill to John’s horse and pulled the rifle out of the saddle holster. He paced back, holding it out to their boss. “Here you go.”

The officers readied their hands on their holsters. Stella stood off to the side still and watched Donnie closely from underneath her hood. More often when she was younger, Donnie was getting her and Kayce out of trouble. He was always nice to Stella when she saw him out and about, especially since she wasn’t in trouble as often any longer. The quick switch in behavior made her frown in distaste. Yes it was a sticky situation that Rip and she put him in, but the attitude was something else. Stella couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

John asked Rip, “you were standing?”

“No, I was kneeling.” Rip pointed to the spot he had been in.

John kneeled and pointed his rifle to the sky. A shot rang out and a few birds scattered from trees nearby. He lined up the gun from the kneeling position with the bear and cleared the empty round. He glanced back to see where it landed. He aimed his rifle high again and repeated the process.

John looked back to where the casings were. “You sure you were here?”

“I’m sure, sir.”

Donnie looked down and sniffed. John stalked forward. “Give it to me.” John tossed the rifle, without looking, to Rip who quickly caught it. “Give it to me.” Thunder clapped above them. John gripped the sheriff’s hand that was firmly planted in his jacket pocket. Donnie struggled to keep his hand in there. John pulled it out and lo and behold there was an evidence bag in his hand. John turned to Officer Sullivan and handed him the casing.

Sullivan scoffed. “Just forgot you picked this up, sheriff?” Donnie looked down. “That’s evidence.”

“Where’d you find it? This time no bullshit.” John put his finger in Donnie’s face.

“Where they said.” He confessed irritably.

John pointed at both Rip and Stella. “Right where Rip said.”

Officer Sullivan went to the tree. He glanced at the bear gauging the distance. “Say it’s about 15 yards. Pretty damn close.”

“Shit, close enough for me.” Rip laughed lightly.

“I could have lived without it if I’m being real.” Stella added coming to stand next to Rip.

“That,” Officer Sullivan stepped closer to Donnie, “is self defense, sheriff. I have no idea why,” he paused to look Donnie in the eye, “you’d wanna go ahead and disguise that.”

Donnie sneered. “I forgot I picked it up, okay? Jesus Christ.”

Officer Sullivan made it clear the investigation was over. He nodded at Rip and John. “Gentlemen.” Looking at Stella he smiled. “And lady.” Stella gave him a kind smile and watched as he left.

John rounded on Donnie. “Look at me. What the hell are you up to?”

“I ain’t up to shit.” Donnie defended angrily. “Now that shell casing may get them off the hook with fish and wildlife, but I just pulled two dead bodies outta that canyon. And I ain’t takin’ your muscle and guard pup’s word about what happened.”

Stella jumped forward and Rip speedily captured her arm. He forced her to put an arm around him. He whispered into her hair, “not now Stella. Let it go.”

“Heard you got a membership at the sporting club. How much that cost you on a sheriff’s salary?” John threw the low dig at him.

He snickered. “Yeah well it ain’t cheap, John.”

“I’m startin’ a list, Donnie. You just made your way on it.” John declared. The sheriff took off his hat and rubbed his head.

John met up with Rip and Stella. Rip wanted to follow along, but he made sure to put Stella in front of him. He knew better than to let her go. If he did, she would most definitely catch a case of assault on a police officer.

When they were out of hearing distance John said to them. “The whole county’s turning on me. The whole fuckin’ place.” He sounded disgusted.

Rip and Stella turned back and witnessed Donnie spit on the ground. “C’mon Stella-belle. Let’s go home.” He gently pressed against her back to move her onward.

They got back to the ranch, no mishaps like Stella promised her brother. John went his own way, saying something about a meeting with the governor and attorney general he had to go to.

Stella observed Rip from where she stood. He was breaking down Red, John’s horse, going through the motions fluidly. She could hear his mind turning. She leaned against Abigail and asked. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

Rip stopped what he was doing and looked at her. “What do you say to havin’ a little practice with the guys?”

“My dear Rip, anything after all that bullshit would be welcomed with open arms.”

“You go get ‘em and I’ll set up out in the bullpen.”

Stella smiled at the directions and took off for the bunkhouse. She busted in through the door and startled everybody. “Hey hey it’s just me!” She put her hands out in surrender. “Rip’s setting something up in the bullpen. He wants all of us there. Get your horses ready! Let’s go!”

Once everyone was tacked up and ready they single file headed out to the pen. Rip had a few steers caged up and ready to. “Alright lady and gents, time to have some ropin’ practice!” He pointed at Jake. “You and me are first up. I’m headin’.”

They let the steer loose and Rip got after it, Jake not far behind. Dude caught up to the steer and Rip spun his lasso around and quickly shot it out to the steer’s horns. Jake zipped up behind and tossed his lasso at its rear legs. The steer let out disgruntled moos at being caught.

Lloyd called out, “how come you don’t rope like that when we’re ropin’ for money?”

“Then I’m thinkin’ about the money, not the fun.” Jake replied.

“It’s not s’posed to be fun. It’s fuckin’ practice.” Rip used his “mean” voice and Stella rolled her eyes at him. He definitely called it fun in the barn. “Walker, Jimmy. Get your asses in there.”

Jimmy sidled up next to Walker. “On a scale of one to 10, how bads the luck from puttin’ your hat on the bed?”

“‘Bout as bad as changin’ a horse’s barn name.” Walker offered.

Jimmy walked by Stella and Colby. “Hey what’s this horse’s name?”

“Jimmy!” Stella scolded. “You’ve been riding him for a month!”

Colby interjected. “And you still don’t know his fuckin’ name? It’s Ray!”

“I thought you rode Ray.” Jimmy defended.

“Nah, I ride Owen.”

Jimmy shook his head and looked at Ray. “Alright well that’s not quite the same as changing it.”

Walker sighed. “Jimmy, I went to prison for seven years. I say you’re probably the dumbest motherfucker I’ve ever met. That’s really sayin’ something.”

They pulled the next chute open and let the next steer go. Jimmy and Walker raced after it. Jimmy threw his rope and actually got the steer. “I got him!”

“Belly up Jimmy!” Jake hollered.

“I got him! Woah!” Jimmy fell off.

“Let go of the fuckin’ rope!” Rip screamed.

Jimmy screamed because not only was he attached to the rope, but the steer was now dragging him and his saddle across the ring. Everyone galloped over to make sure Jimmy was okay but also to drive the steer off.

“That’s why we take care of our tack, Jimmy.” Rip found a teaching opportunity.

Lloyd grabbed Jimmy’s belt loop and picked him up like a sack of potatoes and dropped him back to the ground. Jimmy was breathless.

“I put my hat on the bed. And I called Owen, Ray.” Jimmy cried out. Seemingly praying to whatever cowboy god would listen.

“Jimmy. You need to stop listenin’ to those yahoos in the bunkhouse. There ain’t no such thing as luck. But I sure believe in stupid. Cause you prove it every fuckin’ day. Now get your stuff and let’s go.” Rip ordered. Everyone followed his lead and left. Except Stella. She slid down off of Abigail, and reached down to grab Jimmy’s hat off the ground.

Jimmy groaned slowly crawling his way to his knees. “Where’s my hat?”

Stella could hear the panic that had set into Jimmy’s voice. “It’s right here. I’ve got it.”

He scrambled up to take it back from her and dusted it off. “Thank you, Stell.”

“Of course.” She observed him for a minute. “You know, I hate to agree, but I think Rip is partially right. About the guys at least. I think they got into your head.”

“Yeah well, I gotta turn my luck around somehow.”

“When you figure out the secret to that, let me know Jaybird.” She laughed and walked off with Abigail.

Stella and har mare clopped into the barn catching the tail end of Rip and Mr. Dutton talking.

“You talkin’ about subpoenas?”

“Those are a smoke screen. I just can’t figure out whose…”

Stella cleared her throat. “I can come back.” She turned to walk in the opposite direction.

John cemented her to the spot with a look and continued talking. Stella was afraid to make any move for fear of fucking something up. “Whose hiding behind them.”

“You want me to look around?” Rip offered.

“Yeah.” Stella could hear John’s thought process. “I want you to start with Jenkins.”

“How much time you got left?”

“Don’t know.” John looked down. Stella’s eyes bugged out of her head.

In her shocked state, she forgot her fear of speaking. “You told me you got a clean bill from the doctor!”

“I’m done with doctors.” John put his foot down. Stella’s breathing picked up. The 11 year old in her was rising to the surface quickly. The familiar panic set in.

“But sir —,” John interrupted her.

“I said I’m done. I got too much to do and fix before I go and I can’t waste my time going to the damn doctors all the time.” He sounded final.

Stella was winded. It was almost identical to the statement her dad gave her.

Rip offered condolences, accepting John’s decision just as much as John had. “Okay. Well I’m sorry to hear that sir.”

Stella stood there, mouth agape. “I’m — sir,” she fought to find words.

“It’s John.”

“I’m sorry John.” Rip said tentatively. Almost like he was testing out his name.

“What do you need us to do, si-, John?” Stella asked.

“Rip has his orders. You? You keep my youngest on the ground.”

“Like I said, till my dying breath sir.”

“I’m counting on it.” He turned and went back to mucking out the stall he was in.

Stella walked back to Abigail to get her tack off and settled in for the night. Rip got Dude into his stall and waited for her to finish.

“You goin’ home?” He asked.

“I mean I’m gonna go tell my brother and then I’ll be outta the bunkhouse. So yeah.” Stella chuckled. “So yeah, I suppose I am.” She nervously looked up at him. “Unless you need help with something?”

“Well I was thinkin’,” he let the statement hang.

“Shit that’s dangerous.” Stella laughed.

“Jenkins will probably know you. We need someone who no one would guess is affiliated with the Yellowstone.”

Stella leaned against a stall wall. “Okay so what’s your plan?”

“There’s a stripper I know.”

“Uh, okay?” Stella questioned, failing to see the correlation.

“Come with me.”

Stella’s eyebrows pulled together and she looked at him above her lenses that had slipped down her nose. “I beg your finest pardon?”

“What are you shy?” Rip laughed. He thought this would be a perfect learning experience of being involved. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be shy about that.”

She pushed her frames back up the bridge of her nose. “Oh I have no problem with strippers or a strip club. People gotta make their bag somehow.” She glanced at him. “But it’s the thought of going there with you, my boss.”

“Ah we’re way past that now. Just come with me to get her. I figured if she finds out there’s another woman she gets to pal around with, she’ll be more likely to agree.”

“When you put it like that, okay, I get it.”

It was loud and dark inside the club, minus the colored lights that swirled around. Stella closely followed behind Rip. There were multiple women on stage in varying degrees of undress. They were all beautiful. Stella watched them with wide eyes. She wished she had half the skill and confidence. Rip sat down at the front. He was quiet and Stella needed to talk.

“So who are we lookin’ for?”

“Her name’s Avery.”

With his short answer, Stella pursed her lips and stopped talking. Rip gazed around the room, taking in who all was meandering around the room. He watched the couple women that were on the stage in front of them. Stella was amazed at the muscles the woman in the red underwear had in her legs.

A woman walked over to Rip. “Hey, you want something to drink?”

“Yeah water.”

She looked at Stella. “We got a two drink minimum.”

“A bottle of water.” He said sternly before Stella could answer. The woman frowned and walked off.

Another worker in a periwinkle colored underwear set came up and sat down next to Rip. He watched her soft movements as she situated herself. She carefully placed her leg in his lap. He grabbed her foot and gently removed it. “Go on. Leave us alone.” She quietly got up and walked away without argument. Rip looked to the side and spotted the person they had come here for. He quickly stood and started to travel across the bar. Stella scrambled to catch up.

From a distance, she could see a woman about her height with long dark hair. If Stella didn’t know any better, she would have sworn it was Monica from behind in this lighting. Tack sat on the bar. It looked like she was cleaning it. ‘Interesting,’ Stella thought.

Rip took a seat next to her and asked, “how would you like to make $1,000?”

Stella stood behind Rip, just close enough that Avery looked at her. Avery switched her gaze to Rip again with a scowl. “I don’t do that anymore.”

Stella’s eyebrows raised, but she figured she would keep that information for later.

“No no no. It’s not that kinda thing.” He kept his gaze on her. “I need your help.”

Avery glowered at him. “What kind of help?”

“Well, the kind that pays. Look,” he said, “it ain’t dangerous and it ain’t illegal.”

“Why can’t I have a real job?”

Stella watched the two volley back and forth like a tennis match.

“Why does this always have to be the conversation with you?”

Stella smirked, finding a liking for the woman already. “I see stubborn women seem to fall into your life quite often, huh Wheelie?”

Avery asked. “Who’re you?”

“Stella. Resident horse trainer.”

“You need help with the horses?” Avery asked her.

Stella thought about it. “I don’t think so. There’s two of us to work them.”

“You most definitely need help with tack. I can do that. Hell, I’m doin’ it right now.”

“How’re you gonna help with the horses? Hmm?” Rip asked.

“I break colts.” Avery told them.

“Oh, you break colts,” Stella smiled, “so do I.”

“I bet I could outride every other hand on the Yellowstone. Ridings on the hips. You know better hips than a woman’s?” She looked Stella up and down taking in the curve of her waist and hips. Avery smiled at her.

“I mean, she makes a good point, Rip.” Stella admitted.

“Avery, I can’t have you in a bunkhouse with a bunch of lonely cow punchers. It’s not a place for a woman.” Rip objected.

Stella stood closer to Avery for Rip to see her annoyance. “Uh, excuse you.” She crossed her arms. “I’ve lived there since I was 14. I’ve done just fine.” She pulled a face. “The fuck you mean it’s no place for a woman?”

“Stella, c’mon now.” Rip pleaded with her. She wasn’t helping his case.

“No you come the fuck on. She’s joining the bunkhouse now out of spite.” Stella reached out to shake Avery’s hand to seal the deal.

“I think you and me will get along just fine.” A smile spread across both of the women's faces. “Don’t worry about me, Rip. I fight men off for a living. If one of those cowboys gets randy, I’ll break his fucking jaw.” She smirked at him and Stella laughed.

Rip bent his head chuckling. He rubbed his forehead, worried for the trouble that was about to arise from these two.

#yellowstone #kayce dutton #yellowstonetv #luke grimes #ian bohen #ryan #kayce dutton fan fiction #yellowstone fanfic #yellowstone fanfiction #kayce dutton fanfic

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chroniclesofabooknerd · 4 months ago

Text

Really long post below:

07.20.24→ original entry date.

LONG RANT BELOW: I've been asked by a few people that are actually genuine if I felt comfortable going into detail about what I have been dealing with lately. Note, this isn't something that just started happening within the last few weeks. NO. THIS.. has been going on off and on for the last several months. But, whichever smarty pants mcgee has been doing it, finally got caught in the midst of doing it and I was prompted to change security settings. It was literally a battle of typing speed. I came really..really close to losing everything. I know there's alot of yall that's out there that don't see the enjoyment in blogging or reading. There's those that don't find enjoyment in researching and journaling and that's fine, you can just skip ahead to the next post if this doesn't interest you. OR, you can read it and you may find something within my very long post that you agree with. I did forget to include that whoever it was also made a hacking attempt on not just my FB Blog but my personal profile on there too. Thankfully, nothing got affected because I have all that set up differently for security. I will be cross-posting this.

So this will be shared on :

https://rusticbooktravels.home.blog/ -> which is my main blog site

my IG accounts

Blogger ↓↓↓

http://daisywitchchronicles.blogspot.com

I'm also going to put the link below for my linktree. That way you can go to it and be redirected and see the blogs all in one spot and can choose which one you want to visit..

My linktree ↓↓↓

https://linktr.ee/daisyjeanbloggz

Original Entry. 07.16.24 ( originally posted on IG because I was wanting to get blogging done for my bookstas and people just got all wackadoodle on me!!)

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Go0d mernin all you day-walkers and hopefully all my fellow night-walkers are doing okay :) && Howdy chickadees and chickaroos.

[^^^Part of my post from earlier this morning]

Soo...I don't really use all that many sayings when I post or at least none that are repetitive and catchy in my opinion. So, please, for the love of all things coffee fueled and paranormal,tell me why am I getting hate mail because I started using "chickadees & chickaroos” and it's apparently rude and inconsiderate to call people day-walkers or night-walkers. It's not like I'm referencing a vampire movie or zombie movie here. ( But if I was, in regards to a vampire movie it would be Blade. If it was in regards to Zombies, it's not a movie but The Walking Dead calls Zombies, Walkers.) BUT...It was supposed to be something funny damn,y'all really need to get a life!

The beginning part of this I literally just posted after work this morning with a damn cup of coffee. I was gonna spend the morning blogging... I was wanting to get caught up on some things, but for some reason all the stupid fecking algorithm wants to do is send people who have pizz in their Wheaties & sH!T in their cornflakes to harass me. I'm beyond sick of this. Does anyone else have issues when they try to use catchy phrases? Why the hell do I always attract some of the most mush brained, cornbread soggy in the middle, watermelon ain't ripe, momma done dropped them on the head twice and daddy done kicked them across a football field azz people!!!!!????

I literally just started using these phrases. As in within the last 3-4 days.. maybe almost a week. Anyways, I hope you spill your coffee on white pants, I hope you step on a Lego, I hope you bang your little toe on every piece of furniture that exists in your house and bang your elbow. Oh and most importantly, I hope when you go to leave your house or job, the door handle snags on your shirt or pants and then the seat belt catches and refuses to release!!!

Have the day you deserve.

=========================

Journal entry 07.20.24

_______________________

Howdy chickadees and chickaroos. As you see in this earlier post I've been dealing with a lot. Below I'm going to be adding more to what I've been dealing with to give insight on just what type of scum I've been dealing with.

Originally posted on threads:

Howdy my chickadees & chickaroos! Today I'm sharing the latest bull$hyte that I've been dealing with as a blogger & journalist. So, I've been desperately trying to engage and try to accomplish certain personal goals for myself as far as my writing and blogging. I don't do this to be famous on threads or IG. I do it because I enjoy it. However, within the last few months I must have really pizzed in somebodies Wheaties because I've dealt with the following : (1/idk how many this will be)

2. I've dealt with bullying and harassment. Backlash for voicing my own damn opinion and sharing MY. OWN. RESEARCH AND JOURNAL ENTRIES. Authors attempting to come after me because they didn't agree with the rating I gave them. I'm sorry but I'm not giving your very poorly edited dumpster fire a 5 star rating when it's barely a 1.

2(cont.) Now I get it, indie authors have it rough. I know writing and publishing is hard. I'm a writer myself so I get it. However, it doesn't excuse the ones that send the work out into the world like "oh not my problem anymore" && they never did any editing or spell check the entire time. & This isn't bashing indie authors or traditionally published authors. This is just me venting. Please don't get your panties in a wad.

3. Hackers. Yes you read that right. Hackers. I really don't know why someone gets enjoyment out of attempting to ruin someone's work. But I've had people hack my email. They have tried to hack my websites where I blog and most recently they've attempted to hack IG. I really don't understand why. If youre that pizzed off at me just UNFOLLOW ME OR BLOCK ME! It would literally take what a minute or 2 of your time?

3(cont.) Also, please stop it whoever you are. My main blog means the world to me because I created it not long after I lost my best friend. (My solid white husky passed unexpected & reading to him was my favorite thing so I started blogging about books and it was my way to still connect in a way.. doesn't have to make sense to y'all but it does to me)

4. Well anyhow, that's a chunk of what I've been dealing with. I just don't understand what makes people feel they have the right to screw with others like that. Especially someone like me. I literally do nothing but keep to myself, work constantly and attempt to make a name for myself with my blogging and writing.

Side note: I attempted to make a new IG and turn it into a creator page but that didn't work out so, if you were following an account with the name (witchblogcavern) that was me but things happened and I could not keep that account.

Now, I want to continue with my very long disgruntled rant to say. That these hackers. These, low down, no good ©ûM guzzlers have still been attempting to hack just about everything that I own when it comes to blogging and journaling. A few days ago, someone tried to put the final nail in the coffin in regards to me blogging. They went after my main blogging site. The one that is mentioned up above that I have had for years. This led to me getting the “white page of death or white screen of death” I ALMOST LOST 6 YEARS worth of content. 6. FUGGIN. YEARS. They somehow managed to hack an email that I've been using for quite some time that I had linked to the main blog. It took hours… and I mean HOURS to fully recover my blog. I really don't know what is wrong with people. I don't understand what I ever did to anyone except to give my honest and unbiased viewpoint on whatever it is that I am working on. Ive been nice about it, I've tried going through and blocking potential culprits. But I cannot stress this enough.. If I am actually able to figure out which person or persons it is that is tampering with all of my work. I'm going to press charges. I have been communicating with the support team for my blog and they have escalated it to the IT department. It’s theft and impersonation. I don't know how far that will get me but I am beyond sick of this. I've worked way, way too damn hard trying to make a name for myself with my blogging just for some stupid azz m.o.f.o to try and ruin it and claim it for themselves… I don't care if it's a fellow blogger, or writer or author that is doing this. You sir, ma’am or whatever entity you desire to be, are a downright PIECE OF SHIT. And, I hope that one day, Karma screws you hard, no lube with a soldering iron.

Those of you that have been following me for a while..years maybe, you know that generally if I decide to vent or rant it's not this angry. But I am so sick of the bullying and harassment that I'm receiving when I know for a flipping fact, I haven't done anything at all. It's not like I'm on here posting hateful content or attacking someone for their personal beliefs. I don't post anything that goes against any type of political views or things that are considered controversial. I keep to myself, in my own little blogging world. But somehow, somewhere, these vile idiotic people (or it might just be one person who just absolutely hates me to the core and hates the poop that comes out my rear) have gone out their way to try and make my life a living hell. I DON'T NEED HELP WITH THAT!! Its way past that point! So from here on out, if I don't seem as nice as I used to be, my replies are short or I seem distant,this is why. I'm tired of people using what I've worked so hard on, for their personal gain. And, if after reading all this you decide that you no longer want to follow me, be friends or even see my content anymore, that's fine. It's totally up to you if you make that decision, either way, I hope you have a good weekend. Take care and as always, stay safe out there y'all.

#books and reading #readers of tumblr #bookaddict #journal #reading #booklr #book community #booknerd

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