#southeastern conference

[licenseplateshowdown]

South Coast Region Quarterfinals

Alabama vs Mississippi

[bongaboi]

Auburn: 2023-24 Southeastern Men's Basketball Champions

Long before he first arrived at Auburn as the school’s new basketball coach in 2014, Bruce Pearl was known for showcasing his emotions, whatever they may be in a given moment.

As the Tigers wrapped up an SEC Tournament championship Sunday, Pearl had no trouble showing exactly how he was feeling. In the waning seconds of Auburn’s 86-67 victory against Florida in the conference title game at Bridgestone Arena in Nashville, Tennessee, ESPN camera crews cut to a visibly emotional Pearl standing on the sideline.

When asked by ESPN’s Marty Smith after the game why he was tearing up, Pearl discussed the extra meaning the accomplishment carried following the death of his father, Bernie, last August at the age of 88. Pearl described his late father as “my biggest fan.”

“How about the way Auburn showed up today?” Pearl said. “For me, I’ve got to thank my father. I’m just happy for the players. We played great. Florida’s a terrific opponent. That’s why I’m so emotional. I wish he was here.”

Bernie Pearl’s connection to the Auburn program was strong. Despite being born and raised in Boston, Bruce Pearl said his father asked him if he thought Auburn fans would be bothered if he were buried in a Tigers jersey even though he never went to school there.

"He was a loyal guy,” Pearl said in an interview with Auburn’s athletics website following his father’s passing in August. “He was grateful to Auburn for giving our whole family the opportunity to lead this basketball program. He watched or listened to every single game."

The SEC Tournament title is just the third in program history for Auburn, which also claimed the honor in 2019 before making a run to its first-ever Final Four. The victory improved the Tigers’ record to 27-7 overall, giving them the fourth-most wins in a season in Auburn history. Five of the Tigers’ six winningest seasons ever came under Pearl.

As he soaked in the achievement, those numbers meant little to Pearl. He was thinking about not only his players, but his father and the lessons that he passed down to him.

“He worked hard,” Pearl said. “My dad worked six days a week. He prayed on the seventh. We didn’t have a lot, but we had enough. I thought my dad was the best. I wish every kid had that. That’s one of the reasons why I’m hard on these guys. My dad held me to a high standard and I hold these guys to a high standard.”

[sucka99]

[alexandra-the-lionheart]

I had a dream last night that Roy Kent went to the US to coach SEC football.

[80ssmut3]

[tchaikovskaya]

Not to #victimblame (but also yes to do that lol) but why are presidents, present past and/or potentially future, having events in outdoor spaces in 2024 in the first place…?

[smallcollegebasketball]

https://amp.miamiherald.com/sports/article298788648.html

[cleolinda]

Louisiana students Ne’Kiya Jackson and Calcea Johnson wowed their teachers in 2022 when they discovered a new way to prove the 2000-year-old Pythagorean theorem in response to a bonus question in a high school math contest. But that was only the beginning.

A volunteer at their former school, New Orleans’ St. Mary’s Academy, encouraged them to submit their work on the famous mathematical theory to a professional conference, and in March 2023 they became the youngest people to present at the American Mathematical Society’s Southeastern Sectional conference in Atlanta. Their appearance elicited a wave of media coverage, including a spot on “60 Minutes.” The pair also received symbolic keys to the city of New Orleans and a shout-out from Michelle Obama.

Now Jackson and Johnson, who started college last year, have notched another achievement: authoring an academic paper detailing their original proof — plus nine more. Their work published Monday in the scientific journal American Mathematical Monthly.

Bonus:

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Buried Secrets Chapter 2: The Divine Source

Buried Secrets Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Summary: After the harrowing events in South America, Frankie and the guys have returned home and opened their own private security business. They're eventually approached by an archeologist, named Mya, who is requesting their specialized services for an archeological expedition in the Amazonian jungle of southeastern Peru, hours away from where they stashed Lorea's money just over the border in the mountains of northern Chile.

Frankie is hesitant to accept the job, but with Pope's insistence this could be their cover to go back for the money, he relents. However, Frankie soon learns their new job assignment only further puts them and his new love interest in danger in an unexpected way as they set out to find the lost Incan city of Paititi.

Word Count: 10.6k

👉 Warnings: smut (MDNI), angst, mentions of mental health struggles and past drug use (it's Frankie), there are bad guys with weapons (gun violence, physical violence, death). Frankie Morales comes with his own warnings.

Chapter A/N: The beginning of this chapter was previously released as a longer teaser, but there have been minor changes since then. So, if you feel like you have read the first little bit, that could be why. 😉

Chapter Quote: “You’re already pissing me off and we haven’t even started yet…”

Frankie’s POV                                      I stood leaning against the door frame to my office, arms crossed over my chest as I listened to Benny run through our options for schedule changes. Will stood nearby, listening intently and occasionally offering up his opinion. He was about to speak when his attention was drawn to movement outside the front window, “Hey guys, looks like we got a new client. A fancy blacked-out SUV just pulled up.” 

That automatically had my attention, my mind jumping to thoughts of a similar vehicle passing by my house a couple of weeks prior. 

Benny moved to stand next to his brother to peer out the window, “Oh damn, this chic’s hot.”

That was Pope’s siren call. He immediately stuck his head out of his office after spending the last 30 minutes ignoring our conversation about scheduling issues while he no doubt played games on his phone. 

“Did you say you needed me, Ben?” he asked nonchalantly, just as our topic of conversation walked in. Pope nearly tripped over his own feet when he caught sight of her. Not that I could blame him. She commanded the attention of the room as soon as she stepped over the threshold and took off her expensive looking sunglasses.

For me, it really didn’t have anything to do with her looks. She just had this magnetic aura that drew you in and intimidated the fuck out of you. She was dressed in a black pants suit that hugged her curves in all the right places, yet still leaving everything to the imagination. Her spiked heels added a few inches to her height as she confidently walked across the lobby with her shoulders back and chin up. Her long mahogany hair swung around her shoulders, perfectly straight with no strands out of place. She was sexy as fuck and not our typical clientele. 

We all seemed to be stunned into silence as she came to a stop just in front of where we had congregated near the conference room entrance. Benny was the one to speak up first, standing a little straighter before he opened his mouth. “Hi there ma’am, can we help you with something?” he sputtered out.

“I’d like to speak with Mr. Morales please,” she said without hesitation.

Benny stood there, mouth hanging open as his eyes shifted to me. Will spoke then, “Mr. Morales typically doesn’t meet with new clients. Mr. Miller here and I handle that.” 

She feigned a polite smile, “I realize that, but I would prefer to speak with the owner directly as this is a bit urgent and sensitive. I’m sure you can understand.” 

Her tone made it clear that was her final answer. Pope obviously didn’t read the room as he stepped forward to intervene, turning on his charm and giving his best flirty smile, “If you wanna step into my office, we can have a chat about your situation. I’m sure I can get you taken care of.” 

Her eyes narrowed on him, a playful smirk forming on her lips as she scanned him from head to toe, “I don’t believe you’re Mr. Morales.” 

Pope’s mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. That wasn’t the response he was expecting. The woman’s eyes shifted to me as her smile widened, “But you are. Mind if we have a chat in private?” 

I was momentarily frozen by the intensity of her gaze, then confused about how she knew I was who she was looking for. My brows arched as I pursed my lips. We just sort of stared at each other for a brief moment. It felt like she was analyzing every move I made as her gaze raked over me. I uncrossed my arms and moved aside, motioning for her to step into my office. 

I glanced over at the guys, all three of them watching her retreating form. If I looked hard enough, I could probably see the drool coming out of Pope’s mouth as he salivated over the possibilities. His eyes finally met mine, sparkling with mischief as he smiled and said, “Será mejor que cierres ese trato.” (You better close that deal.)

I rolled my eyes at his insinuation, “Vete a la mierda,” (Fuck off.) 

I could hear Benny and Will snickering as I turned to join the puzzling woman waiting in my office. After closing the door behind me, I was met with her amused expression as she stood with one arm across her chest, the other propped on it so she could rest her chin on her fingers. 

“Do you always let him flirt with clients?” she asked in an amused tone.

I shrugged, “I do enjoy watching him stick his foot in his mouth. I can’t help myself.” 

She chuckled as our gazes met. My heart rate suddenly spiked as I cleared my throat and moved to lean against the desk, “So, you gotta name? Seems like you already know mine.”

She smiled, not moving from where she stood, “Sorry, that was rude of me to not introduce myself. I’m Mya Carnahan.”

I crossed my arms, “Well, Miss Carnahan, what can Delta 5 Security Solutions help you with?”

She dropped her hands to her sides, smiling up at me through her lashes, “Getting right to it then…I like that.” 

I bit the inside of my cheek as I watched her unbutton her blazer. Her hands snaked into the pockets of her pants as she began to pace my office and claim control over our conversation. I could already tell she was going to be a problem. I just wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad one. Maybe both. 

“I’ll be leading an archeological dig in the Southeastern Peruvian jungle. I’m gonna need security for my team while we’re there.”

My brows furrowed, “And why would an archeological dig site need our kind of security?”

She paused her pacing to look at me, “The locals won’t exactly be excited about it. Many believe those sites should remain untouched because of old Incan legends. We also have the narcos to worry about. I’m sure you’re aware drugs are heavily trafficked down there?”

I nodded, obviously very familiar with that fact. I was already feeling reluctant about taking this on. I knew exactly what this would lead to once I told Pope about it. The location was too close to where we stashed Lorea's money. He would want to go back for it. I also had a weird feeling about this situation. I didn’t know if I could trust this woman. 

“The narcos sometimes move product through those remote areas, have stash houses, and even cultivate in the middle of the jungle. If we were to...unknowingly encroach on their territory, they wouldn’t hesitate to put an end to things.” 

I pushed off my desk, moving to stand with my hands on my hips, “Not trying to be rude, but you don’t strike me as an archaeologist. What exactly is it that you do, Miss Carnahan?”

Her eyes were fixed on me as she fought a smile, “When I’m not digging up mummies and old relics, I’m an antiquities dealer. Before you ask…I’m a reputable dealer with ethical sourcing.”

I arched a brow. Somehow, I doubt that. “Who’s your benefactor? I know these digs are expensive. Do I need to be concerned that they’ve pissed anyone off?”

She tucked her plump bottom lip between her teeth, deciding on how to respond. Thoughts of biting that lip myself flashed through my mind. I had to quickly shove them away. 

“That’s confidential information. I’ve been asked to keep it under wraps. Best I can give is that he’s a well-off gentleman that does business on a global scale. So yes, he’s probably pissed a few people off. He doesn’t want his name attached to it. As far as anyone is concerned, the dig is funded by donations, which isn’t completely untrue.” 

I scoffed, “I’m sorry, but if you can’t give me all the information, then I’m not interested in taking this on. I require a certain level of trust with our clients, and I don’t take unnecessary risks.” 

She ignored my response, pacing again and continuing on as if I hadn’t just told her no. 

“I haven’t gotten my team fully assembled yet, but I’m thinking we'll have 30-40 people. We’ll need at least one pilot to fly some of the bigger equipment in. Though, I’d prefer two, just in case we need to make a quick exit. We’re planning to be there for at least three months for the initial expedition. We leave in two weeks.”

I stared at her wide-eyed, “Did you hear what I just said? I’m not interested unless you give me all the information I ask for. And who says we have pilots and enough staff on hand to travel to the Peruvian jungle for three months on short notice?”

She was smiling at me again as she approached, crowding my space as we stood toe to toe. 

“You’re a pilot, right? There’s one…and I know you hire veterans, so I’m betting you have another one. I’d also wager that a lot of your guys would jump at an opportunity to do something like this. I’m sure your three out front would if given the opportunity.”

How the fuck does she know so much? I was beginning to worry this might be some sort of setup to get us back to South America. The thoughts of that blacked out SUV flashed through my mind again. 

“How do you know I’m a pilot?” I asked as I held her gaze.

She turned to look around my office and motioned to the pictures on the wall. I chuckled and nodded. That was a rookie mistake, Fish. 

“I don’t do field work anymore…and like I said…you haven’t told me all the information.”

She leaned in just a little closer, still giving me that sweet smile as the scent of vanilla and jasmine invaded my senses. “I’m fairly confident you’re not gonna turn me down, Mr. Morales. You’re too intrigued.”

I’m not sure intrigued is the correct word at this point.

She pulled a business card from her pocket and held it out in offering. I took it, tracing my fingers over the glossy black material. I briefly examined the shiny gold embossed lettering that spelled out Hathor’s Gallery of Antiquities framed with a gold border. Even her fucking business card seemed expensive. 

“I need to know something by noon tomorrow, or else I’m moving on to another security firm.”

My head snapped up to meet her gaze, “Another firm? There’s no one else locally that can provide what you need.”

She gave me a smug smile, “You sure about that?”

She had to be fucking with me. I couldn’t help puffing out my chest as I replied, “Yeah, I am.”

She moved to open the door, pausing to look back over her shoulder in my direction, “By noon, or else I’m moving on.” 

“We haven’t even discussed payment details,” I added following her to the lobby. 

She halted in the middle of the waiting area to look my way, “You only need to name your price, and I’ll pay it.”  

I could feel the eyes of Benny, Will, and Pope on us as we stared each other down for a beat. I didn’t know how to respond to that as I stood with my jaw clenching. 

“We’ll talk more tomorrow once you’ve officially made your decision," she said as she turned toward the exit. She shifted her attention to the guys still standing outside the conference room entrance, “Mr. Garcia, try to stay outta trouble…Millers, enjoy your afternoon.” 

Without another word, she was gone, climbing into the back of the SUV as the driver held the door open for her. 

“What the hell was that?” Benny asked. 

I sighed and shook my head, “I...don’t fucking know.”

They stood with curious stares, waiting for me to elaborate. Instead, I waved them off and returned to my office. I needed to think through this before I shared anything with them.

After sitting down at my desk, I pulled up the internet browser to do a little research. Hathor’s Gallery of Antiquities had been in business for several years. At least that part of her story added up. It was a legitimate business with a history. As I clicked around on their website, I came across the staff page where I found Mya’s picture next to the title of ‘Owner and Head Curator’. 

I sat staring at the image, realizing there was something familiar about her, but I couldn’t figure out what. Had we met before? That would certainly explain how she knew who I was. No. That’s not it. There was no way I would forget her. There was something sort of exotic about the way she looked, alluring and mysterious. 

My mind drifted back to the blacked-out SUV. Had she been spying on us? She made it obvious that she knew who we all were. How would none of us have noticed that? My gut was telling me something was off about this whole thing. However, she was right. I was intrigued, to put it mildly. 

I continued to click around on the website, eventually coming to a donation page for the Archaeology Preservation Foundation. Listed there were high level details about the proposed expedition. She wasn’t lying about it being funded by donations, but how much could she really get from that? Something like this was going to cost a lot of money, yet she told me to name my price. 

I sank back into the seat and rubbed my hands down my face. This was too good to be true. There had to be a catch. There was a certain level of danger that came along with this, of course, but it did give us a legitimate reason to enter Peru - no fake documents or cover stories needed. We could go down early under the guise of checking out the area for security purposes, fly right over the border, grab the money, then return to the site. 

I had to chastise myself for even going there. I had done nothing but continuously shut Pope down on this, and here I was doing the same damn thing that I had been giving him hell for. There was no way we could accept this job because I knew that it was only going to lead to trouble. 

My thoughts were interrupted by Benny knocking on the door before sticking his head in, “Hey Fish, you ready to head to the gym for training?” 

I glanced at my watch, realizing I had been ruminating on this for an hour and a half. I nodded, “Shit…yeah…sorry, lost track of time. I’ll meet you there.” 

I puffed air out of my cheeks before standing and gathering my things. I made my way to the truck, telling Pope and Will that I would see them at the bar later as I exited. 

When I got to the gym, Benny was already doing leg presses. I quickly changed clothes and joined him but was completely distracted the entire time by my thoughts. Initially I was focused on Lorea’s money, but then my thoughts drifted to Mya Carnahan. I could not wrap my mind around her. She was a puzzle that I couldn’t figure out. Her cool confidence and authoritative attitude baffled me. She was beautiful, no question about it, but she also felt dangerous. There was something enticing about that thought, causing a sudden urge to explore that feeling a little more and get to know her. Though something told me she was going to push every button I had and enjoy the hell out of it. I was now realizing there was a very real possibility that I might enjoy it too. 

Benny pulled me from my thoughts again, “Sooo, you gonna tell us what that meeting was about?”

I shook my head, “I dunno…I haven’t decided yet. I may turn it down. It’s…risky…for several reasons.” 

He chuckled, “Yeah, but if we get to work with someone who looks like that…it might be worth it.” 

I scoffed and shook my head as I met his gaze, “You sound just like Pope.”

He shrugged, “I’m just calling it as I see it. She’s hot. You should ask her out before Pope does…just to piss him off if nothing else.” 

I laughed, “I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t give that asshole the time of day. Her taste seems a little too refined…for either of us.” 

Benny was smirking now, “You sure about that? She definitely seemed interested in you…Mr. Morales.” 

He said my name in a high-pitched suggestive tone before chuckling to himself. My eyes narrowed on him, “Fuck off. She didn’t say it like that.”

His brows arched, “You sure? She definitely had a tone...”

I rolled my eyes as I reached for the handle to release the footplate on the leg press machine to begin a new set of reps. I wasn’t going to bother to entertain that conversation any further, that didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about it though. 

After finishing with the weights, we moved to one of the sparring rings. It wasn’t my best day, still too distracted to focus on Benny’s movements. He at least got some practice in, even if it wasn’t much of a challenge. After having my ass handed to me for what felt like the hundredth time, I gave up. Waving my white flag and begging him to move on to the punching bag or call it a day. 

Given the time, we decided to head out. I ran home to take a quick shower before throwing on a fresh set of clothes and grabbing my hat. Afterward, I was on my way to meet the guys at our favorite dive bar. I had given up drinking along with the coke, but I didn’t see any reason to impede on their fun. I still joined them, gorging myself on hot wings and soda instead of beer and tequila. 

I was still on the fence about telling the guys what my meeting with Mya was about, they however, were not giving me any choice on the matter. The badgering began as soon as I sat down at the table. Will seemed more concerned than anything when he inquired. Pope jumped in, being pushy and accusing me of keeping it to myself because I was interested in Mya. He wasn’t completely wrong. I was interested, but I wasn’t entirely sure in what capacity. Benny just wanted to know because he’s a nosey bitch, but also curious about the odd interaction he had witnessed between us in the office. 

I managed to deflect the conversation to another topic the first time it came up. However, that didn’t stop them from throwing jabs at me about it as the night went on. After kicking all their asses at darts, just like I did every time we were there, we settled into our usual secluded corner booth and ordered some wings and another round of beer for them and soda for me. 

Pope inevitably turned the conversation to the bags of cash we had stashed in the Andes, making me feel more anxious than usual. Having new knowledge and a possible plan brewing in my head made me feel fidgety and keyed up. Pope picked up on it immediately. The fact that I hadn’t told him to drop it yet was probably a red flag too. His whispered words about his latest plan trailed off as he eyed me, “What’s going on, Fish? You good?” 

I shrugged, not bothering to look at him as I spoke. “Yeah, I just wish you would stop bringing this up. You know how I feel about it.” 

He leaned forward to catch my gaze, his eyes focusing intently on mine. “What's going on, hermano? Did you…” 

It took a few seconds to dawn on me that he thought I had slipped and fell back on old habits. I could see why, because my behavior was…off. 

I shook my head, “No. Estoy bien.” (I’m fine.) 

He didn’t look convinced as his brows furrowed in doubt. I sighed, rubbing at the back of my neck as my eyes drifted around the small table. I could now see the worry and concern etched on each of their faces. Fuck. I’m gonna have to tell them. 

“That woman that came in today…she has a job for us…”

They all looked confused by the turn of conversation. I leaned back in my seat, still debating telling them even though I knew I was going to. Deep down, I knew it wasn’t something I could keep from them, no matter how much I wanted to. 

I let out a steady breath before continuing, “It’s…an archaeological dig…in Southeastern Peru.”

I stopped there, allowing them to digest that small bit of information. It was obvious when realization hit, causing their eyes to light up from the possibilities of the assignment. Pope was the first to speak, “Fish, we’ve gotta take that. This is our chance…”

I held up my hand to quiet him, “I know, but I do have some concerns…”

They waited for me to continue, all three leaning closer with wide eyes. Pope looked like he was damn near vibrating out of his seat. 

“There’s something…off about this woman…and it seems too good to be true. What if she’s working for the cartels…luring us down there to get us killed? She’s purposely holding back information, and I don’t like that. I’m not sure if we can trust her. There’s a lot of risks here. And even if the job is legit…there’s a very real possibility of live fire. She claims to need security because of the locals and cartels operating in the area. It could get messy…”

Benny grimaced, “Not to be Captain Obvious here, but we run a personal security business. There’s always gonna be risk and a chance for live fire. We knew that going in. If it’s a legit job, that’s literally what we’re here for…to protect people. Whether it be here or Peru.” 

Damn him and his rational way of thinking. Pope of course was quick to agree. Will, on the other hand, was not. He glanced over at his brother and jerked his chin up toward me as he began to speak, “No, Fish is right. There are additional risks here. What if it’s a trap? Even if it’s not, what if they know it’s us and find out we’re there? We need to consider all that before deciding…”

At least one of them sees it my way. I nodded along with what Will said, jumping in to share more details. “This woman knew things about us. I don’t know how much, but she knows who we are. I think she’s been watching us…I’m almost positive I saw that black SUV pass my house a few weeks back.”

Pope slumped back in his seat, the weight of my words finally sinking in. Benny stared at me in confusion, “Why would she need to spy on us for that though?” 

I shrugged, reaching for my glass of soda and taking a sip to soothe my suddenly dry mouth before responding. “That’s the 250 million-dollar question. Like I said, something is off about the whole thing. And besides that, the expedition lasts three months…in the middle of the Amazon jungle. If it is legit, it won’t be easy.”

I could tell the wheels were turning in all their heads as we sat in silence for several minutes. It was Pope who finally broke it, “What if we check into her, get some more background…see who she’s affiliated with…” 

I chuckled, “That would be ideal, but we don’t have time. I have to let her know something by tomorrow or else she says she’s moving on to another security firm.”

Will’s brows pinched together, “There’s no one else around here that can handle that…”

I nodded along, “I know…that’s what I said, but she insisted she had another firm in mind.” 

All three mumbled out an annoyed, “bullshit” in unison. I shared their sentiment because I knew we were the best. No other firm came close to offering what we could.

Will peered over at me with a pensive look, “What’s your gut telling you?”  

I puffed air out of my cheeks as I leaned forward, placing my elbows on the table. “I honestly don't know. I couldn’t get a read on her.”

I pulled my hat off to push my hair away from my face before plopping it back onto my head. “Maybe…Maybe I go talk with her tomorrow…See what other information I can get and go from there? I need some questions answered before we agree to anything.” 

They all nodded as apprehensive looks passed between them, letting the silence stretch out for a beat. Benny’s lips tugged upward as he met my gaze, “So…if she passes the vibe check, you gonna ask her out? Because if not…” 

The admonishing look I shot Benny’s way caused his words to trail off into a snicker. “If we take this job…she’s off limits.” I cut my eyes toward the one I was most worried about following that rule, “You hear me, Pope? She’s a client. Nothing else.” 

They all exchanged knowing glances before Pope spoke, “I’ll be sure to remind you of that as needed, hermano.” 

I rolled my eyes as I stood from the table, “I don’t have to stick around and listen to this shit.”

Benny laughed before elbowing his brother, leaning over to speak conspiratorially, “He’s gotta go get his beauty sleep…can’t be looking haggard when he meets with the hot archaeologist.” 

They all laughed louder than necessary. I sighed as I pinched the bridge of my nose, “Keep it up Ben, and I’ll dock your pay and leave your ass on desk duty while we’re living out your Indiana Jones fantasies in the middle of the Amazon jungle.” 

He was not amused by that, scoffing before giving me the middle finger. I returned the sentiment with a playful grin. Having gotten the last word, I made my exit. 

Ben wasn’t far off; I did want to get a decent night’s rest before my conversation with Mya. I felt like I needed to be alert and on top of my game. I needed to sort out my thoughts and think through the things I wanted answers to. I wasn’t sure if I would get any of it from her, but I was damn sure going to try. 

I took my time going through my routine the next morning, even having an extra cup of coffee before heading out the door. I was feeling strangely anxious about my impending conversation, and I didn’t really understand why.

When I parked in front of Hathor's Gallery of Antiquities, I felt a tightening in my chest. It was a familiar feeling that I hadn’t had in some time, not since Lorea’s. I felt like I was going into battle. 

I inhaled a few deep breaths, attempting to clear my muddled thoughts as I took in the exterior of the gallery. It had an old-world feel in the design with large columns lining the entryway. There were two identical statues on either side of the doors. They looked to be Egyptian, a woman with horns supporting a red circular disk as a crown. 

Curiosity got the best of me as I pulled out my phone, doing a quick google search for “Hathor Egypt”. I tapped on the first link in the search results. The included images on the page banner looked similar to the statues in front of the establishment. I scrolled down, one passage catching my attention: 

Hathor is known as the Egyptian goddess of love (among other identities). She possessed the ability to manipulate any mortal, God, or beast to do her bidding. She is known to be as wild and menacing as she is warm-hearted and seductive. She did not hesitate to inflict harm on those who stood in her path and would do whatever necessary to reach her goals. 

Hathor was consort to many gods, but most notably acted as the Eye of Ra. She served as Ra’s feminine equal, often called ‘The Golden One’, wielding his powers and becoming vengeful in her pursuit to protect him from his enemies. In these instances, she is sometimes depicted as four striking cobras or a lioness… 

I had to stop reading as goosebumps formed on my flesh. Something about that description had my head spinning. I had a feeling that the goddess Hathor was not chosen at random. If anything, I felt like I was reading a description of Mya, but I wasn’t sure why considering I had hardly spent any time with her. I sighed, slipping my phone back into my pocket as I stepped out of the truck and made my way toward the entrance. 

The inside of the gallery looked about how you would expect, matching the old-world aesthetics of the outside and feeling oddly like a museum. The same large columns from the outer entrance were strategically placed along the inner atrium. I realized now they had intricate carvings that extended to various stone focal points on the walls. My eyes were drawn to a carving of four cobras above a mural depicting an Egyptian deity who had the head of a bird and was standing on a boat. There was something about it that drew me in and held my attention. So much so, that I didn’t hear the petite brunette approach and come to a stop at my side. 

I could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke, “Ra’s journey across the sky…it’s a beautiful representation of the story.” 

I glanced over at her with a small smile of my own, “Oh yeah? What’s it represent?” 

Her eyes sparked and suddenly seemed excited that someone had shown interest. “Do you know much about Egyptian gods?” she asked.

I shook my head, “Very little, but I do find the subject fascinating.” 

Her smile widened, “Ra was a God of Gods and father to the pharaohs…he ruled the sun and heavens….and was known as the giver of life. He was a protector but had the capacity to bring great destruction. He’s often depicted with the head of a falcon wearing the sun disc as a crown to symbolize his power and connection to the sky.”

She paused, raising her hand to the mural, pointing out small details as she continued, “This is one of the most popular reliefs of Ra… it shows him sailing the celestial waters on his solar boat by day. By night, he battles the serpent known as Apophis…it’s meant to show the struggle between light and darkness.”

Oddly enough, I found Ra to be incredibly relatable. Too bad he didn’t have the head of a catfish instead. I turned to the woman beside me with questioning eyes, “I’m assuming this mural was chosen for a reason. How does it relate to the goddess, Hathor?”

She gave me a toothy grin. “You’re very astute. Hathor was the wife of Ra and his defender. She was also known as the divine mother of Pharaohs. She’s often referenced as the Eye of Ra…” she said as her small hand moved to point at another prominent figure in the mural. 

“The sun disc on her crown is often represented as an eye…she joins Ra on the voyage, stealthily surveilling for signs of danger from Apophis.”

I had to laugh to myself given I had just been drawing parallels between Mya and Hathor and myself and Ra. It almost seemed like a cruel joke. I half wondered if Benny had set this up as payback for threatening his Indiana Jones fantasies. 

My attention shifted back to the woman, still giving her a gentle smile, “Well, that was a riveting history lesson. I wasn’t expecting to learn something new when I walked through the door.” 

The woman smiled up at me, flushing slightly as her eyes scanned my face. She held out her hand, “I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself before I started rambling. I’m Emily, head Archivist.” 

I shook her hand, “Frankie Morales…and not a problem. It was interesting, really.”

Her eyes widened slightly, “Oh, Mr. Morales…Miss Carnahan said you might be stopping by.” 

My brows pinched together as she turned and motioned for me to follow her. I never said I would be stopping by…

I followed behind Emily, watching as she pulled out her phone, furiously texting as she shuffled through the building. We eventually came to a long hallway with two very large ornately carved oak doors at the end. She turned toward me with a timid smile, not looking at me directly. 

“Miss Carnahan’s office is just through those doors. She’s expecting you.” 

She gave me a small head nod before disappearing in the direction we had come. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, noting her odd dismissal before making my way to the double doors and feeling my stomach flutter slightly. 

When I entered, the sheer size of the space took me off guard. There were floor to ceiling shelves covered in books on every wall, small tables with scrolls and books stacked haphazardly, and a large wooden desk with two leather wingback chairs in front of it. The same large columns found throughout the building separated the space into smaller sections. My eyes finally drifted to Mya, who was leaning over a large wooden table covered in maps, documents, and more books. Her attention was intently focused on whatever she was looking at. 

I ambled toward her, taking in the curve of her ass in the tight black leather-like pants she was wearing. Her loose and flowy black satin blouse draped over her torso with the front of it tucked in. It had a dangerously low v-neckline that framed a gold medallion necklace hanging between her barely covered breasts. Her hair was twisted up into a messy bun, held in place with what looked like a pencil? She was barefooted, having abandoned the very tall strappy heels that sat nearby. She had dark rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose as she shuffled some pages around. 

She looked like a fucking dream. The words from the passage I had read, manipulative and seductive, passed through my mind again. I needed to watch myself with her. It already felt like she had some sort of power over me, and I was pretty sure my dick was taking the lead on submitting to it. Maybe Pope was right. Maybe I did need to get laid - by someone other than her just so I could get it out of my system. 

She peered up at me over the top of her glasses, still leaning forward and causing her low neckline to hang loosely from her body, which revealed the curve of her breast. She definitely wasn’t wearing a bra. My brain must have short circuited over the sight, because I had apparently stopped several feet in front of her, staring like an idiot. 

Her brows arched as she smirked at me and stood upright, “It’s good to see you Mr. Morales. I wondered if you would be stopping by today.”

I cleared my throat, “How did you know I wouldn’t just call?” 

She reached up and pulled the pencil from her hair, shaking the silky looking strands loose as they fell around her shoulders. She ran her fingers through it as she approached me with a teasing look, “Something told me this was a conversation you would wanna have in person.”

I diverted my eyes, trying my hardest not to look at her chest as she fiddled with her hair. My gaze landed on her bare feet, realizing her toes were painted a deep red color. It felt strangely intimate to see her bare feet. My attention was drawn away from them by her chuckle as she stopped in front of me, “You see something you like Mr. Morales?”

I choked out a laugh, “I just think it’s funny you’re walking around barefooted. You seem a little too…sophisticated…to do something like that.” 

She was still giving me that fucking smirk when my eyes finally met hers. I now realized they were the deepest shade of blue, like sapphires. I could easily get lost in them. 

“I apologize; my feet were killing me. It’s been a long day already…but, you have a lot to learn about me, Mr. Morales. I’m only sophisticated when the occasion calls for it,” she finally said.

She enunciated the word ‘sophisticated’ in a mocking tone, like it was a joke. 

I smirked back at her, “Excuse me. My mistake. I guess I do have a lot to learn…how about we start with how you seem to know so much about me and my team? Have you been spying on us?” 

She was smiling now. Not the least bit embarrassed at having been caught. She took off her glasses, rolling her shoulders back as she tilted her chin upward, almost defiantly, to look me directly in the eye. Her expression shifted to something more serious.

“I needed to be sure I could trust you. Can I trust you…Frankie?” 

The fact that she called me ‘Frankie’ didn’t go unnoticed. She said it with what I could only describe as vulnerability. She was attempting to create familiarity between us. It was a manipulation tactic. I couldn’t help smiling, I was on to her.

“You can if you cut out the manipulation bullshit. I’ll be as straight with you as you are with me. Otherwise, I can play the game just as well as you can.” 

She smiled briefly, before turning serious again. “Touché… Alright, fine. Serious question though, can I trust you? If I can’t…this stops here.” 

My brows furrowed. What did she really expect me to say? No? “Of course. I take my job seriously.” 

She stared at me for a beat, like she was trying to make a decision. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she nodded slightly, “Ok…Does this mean you’re taking the job then?”

I scoffed, “No. It doesn’t. You still haven’t answered all my questions.”  

Her shoulders dropped, “Yes, I was watching you. I have been for weeks. I needed to make sure you could handle this…and that you won’t fuck me over.” 

I snorted out a laugh and tried not to be distracted by her saying the words ‘fuck me’. “So, I guess we passed your assessment then? What the hell is this, Mya? What are you trying to get us mixed up in?” 

She inhaled deeply, “If you accept the job, I’ll answer any questions you have.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Ok, let’s start with…who’s paying for it?” 

Her mouth fell open slowly before she answered, “I told you; it’s funded by donations. That’s all you need to know.”

I shook my head, “How the hell am I supposed to trust you when you can’t answer that basic question?”

She rubbed her hands together as her eyes wandered around the room to avoid mine, “I swear, I’ll answer any question you have aside from that one. I’ve been asked not to share that information…I gave my word, and I plan to stick to it. You can respect that, right?” 

I did have to respect that. I stood there with my hands on my hips, trying to get a read on her. She seemed more sincere at this moment than she had been so far.  

“I swear, if at any point, you need to know who it is…I’ll tell you. Right now, it’s not a need to know,” she added. 

I sighed and nodded as I rubbed at the back of my neck, “Ok…fine. I need you to be honest with me if this is gonna work. No secrets…aside from that one…I guess. I need to know what kind of risks we’re up against. Don’t be jerking me around…this could get dangerous. People could die.” 

She nodded, “I know…and that’s why I want the best looking out for my team. They’re all good people…in it for the right reasons. I need for them to be safe.” 

There was something in her tone. It was almost anxious and weary. Her mask of confidence was slipping. 

“You’re people? And what about you? You need to be safe too,” I said. 

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I can take care of myself. I’m not worried about me. I’m hiring you to protect them.”

I felt my stomach turn sour over her words. Something told me she probably needed the most protection out of all of them, but I knew she would never admit to it if I asked. 

I sighed, “I can get you a team of 15 guys, with three pilots for the full three months. You’re looking at 2 million…and that’s not covering the air assets or supplies.”

Her eyes narrowed on me, “Are you one of the three pilots?” I nodded in affirmation. She seemed almost relieved before continuing.

“If I make it four mil to start and put you in charge of securing the assets and supplies that your team needs, will that work?”

My head was spinning. Is she for real? Against my better judgement, I made my decision. My jaw ticked, “Alright. We’ll do it. Now I need you to tell me what the fuck I’m signing up for.” 

Her lips curled upward into a brilliant smile as some of the tension left her body, her facade dropping some. She motioned toward the table for me to follow her, “What I’m about to tell you…no one else knows the full context of it. I’m trusting that it will stay between you and me. You can’t even tell your team. None of them. You got it?”   

I was a little taken aback by that, but I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll keep it between us.” 

Her eyes roamed my face, analyzing and calculating, seeming satisfied before continuing. 

“What do you know about the lost Incan city Paititi?”

I shrugged, biting back a laugh, “Is that like…El Dorado?” There’s no way she’s serious. 

She sighed, “Umm, some researchers conflate the two…but to me, no. It’s two different things. El Dorado is more mythical. That name gets slapped on any legend that mentions a city of gold. However, some people refer to Paititi as El Dorado, but the city itself did actually exist from what history tells us. It’s not myth.”

I nodded along, still trying to keep a straight face. She huffed air out of her cheeks, “I can tell you think I’m crazy. Just…let me explain. OK?”

I gave her a polite smile, “OK. Explain. What makes you think you can find Paititi?” 

She hesitated. I arched my eyebrows, waiting for her to continue. She began to shuffle through the mess of documents and books on the table, pausing to grab a worn leather-bound journal. 

“This is the part I need for you to keep to yourself…”

I drew an ‘x’ over my heart, “I promise. Not a word.” 

I could tell whatever she was about to say was a big deal, to her at least. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing. 

“In 2001, a researcher found a manuscript in the Vatican archives that went into detail about the location of Paititi. It had been dated to around 1600 and was written based on the word of a Jesuit missionary. It described a city filled with gold, silver, and gemstones located in the middle of the Amazon jungle. It was initially dismissed as being unreliable third-hand information, so it didn’t get much attention.”

Ok, this is getting a little more interesting. “Alright, so, why does any of that matter if it was found to be unreliable?”

She hesitated again, then smiled nervously. I couldn’t help thinking how adorable she was like this, in researcher mode. As if to prove my point, she slid her glasses back on, then gathered her hair to one shoulder as she flipped through the journal. My eyes were briefly drawn to the curve of her neck as she searched the pages and began to speak.

“Well, the document was eventually moved to the Vatican’s secret archives… which is the Pope’s private collection. It was no longer accessible to the public. A lot of the information has since been lost or misconstrued over time…until now.”

She slid the journal toward me, taped inside were high quality images of some old documents - pages of them. 

I glanced up at her, “Is this?”

I couldn’t finish my sentence, but she knew what I was asking. Nodding as she continued, “Yes. It is. And the thing is, there were more pages than originally thought…and I have them. All of them. No one knows about the extra pages. You’re the only person I’ve told. As far as anyone else is concerned, I’m going off previously released information.”   

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, “So, why are you telling me this?” 

She seemed unsure of herself as she met my gaze, “I knew you wouldn’t go into this blindly…that you would need proof. You also have skills that I’ll need to rely on…it helps if you know what you’re looking for. You might see something that I don’t…aerial searches aren’t exactly in my area of expertise.” 

Things were beginning to come together now. While I was still nervous about taking this on, I was confident she wasn’t setting a trap. 

My brows pinched together, “Aerial searches?”

She nodded, “Yes. I have a general idea of the location…but it's still a jungle. It’s gonna be camouflaged by hundreds of years of overgrowth. I need your eyes, Frankie…and your navigation skills. So, I’m trusting you with the Vatican documents.” 

A thought struck me suddenly, prompting me to ask, “How did you get those documents anyway?” 

She gave me a cocky grin, “I dropped in from the duct work, Mission Impossible style, and took them while the Pope slept.” 

I snorted out a laugh, “And you’re also full of shit.” 

She grimaced, “So, I may have fibbed. That’s another one of those things you don’t need to know…but that should be the last one...I think.” 

I felt my jaw tighten and my nostrils flare in frustration as I gave her an admonishing look. “You’re already pissing me off and we haven’t even started yet…” 

She gave me a nervous smile, “Sorry. I’m just keeping my word.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, Ok.” I could already tell; she was going to be difficult to deal with. 

I puffed air out of my cheeks, placing my hands on the table and leaning forward to inspect the images. “So what language is this? What does it say?”

Mya moved in closer, the length of her body nearly pressing into me as she leaned down to look at the documents with me. 

“It’s Latin. This one is a papal authorization to evangelize the city…meaning the Pope did in fact send missionaries.”

She paused, leaning in just a little closer to turn the page and allowing her vanilla and jasmine scent to surround me. Her proximity made it hard to focus on the images in front of me as she began to speak again, “This page documents a ten-day trip by foot between Cuzco and Paititi made by the Inca…there’s a note from the Jesuits indicating that detailed clues should be withheld to avoid a gold rush on the city, but somebody messed up. There was a map that made its way into the collection. It was filed separately, so it wasn’t found by the original researcher…but it has been now.”

She pointed to the image she was referencing. It was indeed a map…a very hard to read map. 

“Obviously the landscape has changed since then, but hopefully…between the two of us…we can figure this out.”  

I turned my head to glance over at her, our noses inches apart as we locked eyes. I felt a sudden electricity sparking between us that had my skin buzzing and heart racing. I noticed her eyes briefly dropped to my lips before our attention was drawn to the heavy oak door of her office opening. 

When I shifted to face the door, I was met with a set of dark eyes and furrowed brows staring at us. The man with greasy looking slicked back hair and a scowl didn’t seem too happy to see me. I almost felt like he was sizing me up and ready to attack at any given second. 

Mya’s aura shifted, her jaw clenching as she shot daggers at him with her eyes. I noticed her hand moving to slide some loose papers over top of the journal as she spoke with a forced politeness, “Veracruz, I wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing here?” 

She now seemed uncomfortable. I watched as his scowl shifted to an almost unnerving smile as he replied in a thick Spanish accent, “I just came to check in with you and see how everything is going with the planning.” 

Her nostrils flared as she regarded him, “I see. Well…we’ll catch up just as soon as I’m finished with this meeting. You can wait in the conference room.” 

I stood to my full height and crossed my arms over my chest, feeling the need to take up more space as he glanced my way. He gave me a cocky smirk before giving a small nod and exiting the room. Something told me he was going to be a problem. 

Mya smiled weakly, “Sorry about that. I hate when people interrupt meetings.”

I eyed her, waiting for her to say more on the subject, but she didn’t. Instead, she was back to business, “Well, since you’ve officially agreed…I’ll start gathering all the documents you guys will need and putting plans and contracts into writing. We’ll get back together to go over the finer details once everything is set.” 

I nodded, “Sounds like a plan. Can’t wait.” 

I watched as she picked up the journal and moved toward one of the stone columns that separated the table from the office space. She squatted down, then pushed in on the flat square part of the base, causing a small drawer to pop out. She lifted a lid and slid the journal inside, then pulled her necklace off, manipulating it in some way to turn it into a key. She quickly locked the lid shut before closing the compartment. I never would have guessed that the compartment existed if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. It was completely undetectable.

She eyed me as she stood and returned the chain around her neck, “I’m trusting you. No one else knows about that.” 

I huffed out a small laugh, “Wow…OK. I guess we’re gettin’ into some Indiana Jones type shit.”

She chuckled, “You have no idea…come on. I’ll walk you out.”

As I walked beside her to the main exit of the building, I couldn’t help asking, “Why the goddess Hathor?”

Her eyes cut toward me as she smirked, “I admire her skill set.” 

She didn’t elaborate, but I could take a guess as to what she meant. Once we reached the exit, I turned toward her, reaching out to shake her hand. “I guess we’re doing this. I look forward to working with you, Miss Carnahan.” 

She gave me a polite smile as she took my hand and gave it a firm shake, “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Morales.” 

Her smile shifted to a smirk as she watched me leave. I couldn’t be sure how long her eyes were on me, but I swear I could feel them burning into me until I pulled out of the empty lot. 

My head was reeling as I drove toward the office. I wasn’t sure what I was going to tell the guys. I guess the only thing I had to omit were the documents. I hated keeping something from them, but like Mya, I always kept my word. For some crazy reason, she was trusting me, and I didn’t want to break it. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy though. I could already tell she was going to be a handful. I still needed to be careful with her. It was obvious she had a penchant for deception. I just wasn’t sure in what way. 

I would be lying if I said part of me wasn’t hoping she would open up to me more…become something more. She had this magnetism about her that I couldn’t seem to resist, and I knew it was probably going to get me in trouble. I almost welcomed it, but I was also hoping she didn’t become my new addiction. I had to remind myself to keep this professional - that she was off limits to me too. 

Mya’s POV I stood watching Frankie’s broad frame walking toward his truck through the windows. The more I got to know him, the more intrigued I became. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this. He was observant and intuitive. There was something about the way he looked at me, like he could see through all my bullshit. He did basically call me out on it right away. I didn’t know how to handle him going forward. All I knew was that I needed him to trust me, realizing that having him on my side could work in my favor if things went south and that he might even be the key to finding Paititi. 

My thoughts were interrupted by approaching footsteps, heavy footfalls encased in rubber soles. They came to a stop just behind me as the familiar sandalwood and musk scent invaded my nostrils. 

“I thought I told you to wait in the conference room?” I asked before turning to face Veracruz’s stupidly handsome and smirking face. 

He shrugged, “I wanted to make sure there were no problems.”

I arched a questioning brow. He was beyond transparent, letting his jealousy show at the mere sight of me talking to another man. I really hoped this wouldn’t become a problem. “We’re all good here.”

His eyes briefly shifted to the window before coming back to me, “Who was that? Anyone we need to be concerned about?” 

I shook my head, “No. He’s actually the owner of the personal security firm I’m hiring for the expedition. So…I’m gonna need you to play nice with him. No arguing or questioning his methods. He’s in charge. Got it?”

He gave me a disgruntled look, “You should just let me handle it…”

I looked around, realizing this was not the place to talk to him. “I need you to go to the conference room, like I told you to do. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He sighed, nodding in agreement as he turned to head that way. I watched him go, making sure he did what he was told. He was such a loose cannon. I never knew what to expect from him. 

Minutes later I found Emily in her office to let her know that I would be unavailable for the rest of the afternoon unless a limited few special people happened to show up. I didn’t want to risk anyone else inadvertently seeing Veracruz. She gave me a thumbs up as she reached to answer the phone. I mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ before walking away.

When I entered the conference room, Veracruz was fiddling with a astrolabe displayed on a nearby table, nearly knocking it over when he heard the door open behind him. I gave him a very unamused glare as he righted it. 

“What the hell are you doing here? We had an agreement…”

He placed his right hand on his chest, “I’m sorry, cariño. Collazo wanted me to check in with you and see where we are with preparations.” 

I was fuming. I could feel the heat rushing to my face as anger continued to build, “I don’t care. Collazo nor any of his men are to step foot in this building. I refuse to be implicated in whatever he’s gotten mixed up with.” 

He approached me, much like one would approach a scared animal, hands up in surrender and talking quietly. “I was careful. I came through the back. Not a soul saw me.” 

I huffed out of frustration, “No one saw you? Frankie saw you. Then you waltzed out into the lobby like you own the place just because you can’t help yourself. Anyone could have walked in...” 

His shoulders dropped, “Please forgive me. You are right. I should not have done that. However, Frankie is going to see me eventually anyway, right? So, that does not count.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, now feeling a headache coming on, “You shouldn’t be here at all. We could have set something up.”

He was crowding my space now, placing his hand on my cheek. “I’m sorry. I did not want to wait to see you. I have missed you. Let me make it up to you.” 

I sighed, stepping away from him. Now that Damien was out of the picture, Veracruz wasn’t even trying to hide his feelings for me. I entertained his advances to a point, just so I could maintain my influence over him, but I still didn’t know how far that would get me if his neck was on the line. It was a delicate dance between us that was becoming much more complicated as he was not so subtly begging for more. 

It’s not like it wasn’t tempting. Veracruz looked like sex on two legs and had been very attentive toward me. He went through great lengths to look after me when I was recovering from Collazo’s mini torture session several months ago. I had no question that he would probably be an amazing lover, but I knew he would only suck me further into the life that I was desperately trying to get away from.

“You can’t keep saying things like that to me,” I replied. 

He gave me a soft smile, “Why? Because you like it? I will win you over eventually.” 

I shook my head, “No. I’ve already told you…it’s a bad idea…”

It was his turn to shake his head, “I do not think so. Collazo would welcome it. He would trust you again.” 

I peered up at him with an empathetic gaze, “That may be true, but I’m trying to get away from that lifestyle, Veracruz. I can’t do that if I’m with you.” 

He looked deflated, “I understand, but that does not change how I feel. I cannot help it.” 

I turned away from him, needing to change the subject. “Why does Collazo want you to check in?” 

He began to pace the room, inspecting all the knickknacks on display. “You know how he is…it is more about control. He wants to remind you who is really in charge and make sure you are doing what you need to.”

I nodded, “Of course, I figured. Well…you can report back that we’re on track with the plan. Nothing has changed…and I’ll be ready on the set date.”

He turned toward me, “I had not planned to tell him anything different, no matter your answer. I am trying to keep him off your back as much as possible.” 

I gave him a soft smile, “I do appreciate that. Thank you.” 

An awkward silence stretched between us. I really was beginning to hate being alone with him. Not because I disliked him, but because I felt like I had to manage him and his expectations every second that we were together. It was exhausting. 

I sucked in a sharp breath, “Well, I have things I need to attend to. If that’s all you needed…”

He gave me a tight smile, “Of course. We will be in touch soon.” 

He moved to exit but paused to look back at me when I called his name.

“Please make sure you’re not seen when you leave,” I reminded him. With another curt nod, he was gone. 

I spent the remainder of my afternoon preparing the contract and instructions for Frankie, being careful as to what I put in writing. There were some things that he was just going to have to memorize. It was too risky to have the information floating around. I made a mental checklist of what those things needed to be as I packed up and headed home for the evening. 

As soon as I got home, I changed into my workout clothes, wrapped my knuckles, and made my way to the punching bag in my home gym. I really needed to blow off some steam. The last two days had left me feeling on edge and conflicted about how I was handling everything.

Veracruz randomly showing up at the gallery without warning had taken my anxiety over the top. I didn’t really know how I was going to manage him through this whole thing. I could only assume his advances would continue once we were in the jungle. He was becoming more brazen each time we were together. I needed to keep him close without crossing the line, it had to stay professional. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could walk that line without repercussions. 

Frankie had taken me completely off guard. I had seen pictures of him and watched him from a distance but seeing him up close was an entirely different experience. The second I walked into Delta 5 Security Solutions the previous day; he had my attention. It was almost like I could feel his piercing dark eyes burning into my flesh. I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. I did well to keep my cool and reel him in, but internally I was a mess as I stood across from him in his office. 

Sure, he was a little disheveled and had the whole tortured soul vibe about him, but there was something sort of beautiful and poetic about him too. He was much bigger than I had realized, his broad shoulders seeming to stretch on forever. The way his arms and chest flexed in the tight grey t-shirt he had been wearing today definitely couldn’t be ignored. Even with his aquiline nose and messy curls, he was handsome in sort of a boyish type of way. That was only emphasized when I drew a laugh from him earlier today, causing his cheek to dimple. And the way he smelled, gods, it was amazing. It was an enticing mixture of leather, summer nights, and man.

He seemed like a decent person with good intentions. If I wasn’t careful, there was a real possibility he could be trouble for me - as in causing me to fuck up and let my guard down. He completely saw through me today. He knew what I was doing before I had even tried it. He was definitely going to be harder to bend to my will. However, some part of my brain was telling me there was a real possibility that he might submit willingly if I did the same for him. I really thought I had met my match in Damien, but Frankie might turn out to be the biggest adventure yet. 

Chapter 3: So it Begins

✨If you would like to be added to the tag list, feel free to shoot me a DM or leave a comment.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! I hope you enjoyed chapter two. We got some fun stuff with the guys this chapter. They are already giving Frankie hell over Mya. We got to see some of their dynamics and how life is post money-gate. They are definitely looking to Frankie more as a leader these days. Pope is still Popeing and the Millers are just along for the ride.

We finally got Frankie and Mya together. How are we feeling about their dynamics so far? They are definitely both feeling each other out. Frankie is already smitten and Mya is getting there. That doesn't mean they are immediately going to jive though. They will be bumping heads, a lot. Then of course, we have added Veracruz to the mix. He and Frankie have already begun their pissing match.

Now for the nerdy stuff...

Vatican Documents: The Vatican document about Paititi is a real thing! It's discovery in 2001 really happened and it was indeed removed from public access. I've obviously taken some liberties with those 'extra pages' but this is where our adventure begins. I'll continue to share some of these little tidbits with you as we go along.

Egyptian References: So, some of you probably know I'm a huge history nerd. At one point I did want to be an archeologist/Egyptologist. With Egypt being my favorite ancient civilization, I couldn't help squeezing some of that stuff in. There is no funny business here. We are not getting into any reincarnation story lines or anything like that. I just thought it would be fun to draw some parallels between the god of the sky and Frankie and the goddess of Love and Mya because they have similar traits. And well, Ra and Hathor were together. Their story may have some foreshadowing elements, just to make things more interesting. 😏

Please feel free to sound off with your thoughts and predictions. You know I love to hear them! Especially as our adventure starts to pick up.

💜Mysty

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@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @annalovesflorida @anniet852 @ashleyfilm @ashlovesdrpepper

@auteurdelabre @avastrasposts @biggetywitch @bitchwitch1981 @bluestar22x

@bunniboo0015 @burntheedges @captainredspade @chaoticfestninja @cheekychaos28

@christinamadsen @copperhalfcent @darkheartgatita @diabaroxa @din-cognito

@elisabethloves @fifitheragertot @for-a-longlongtime @girlofchaos @guelyury

@harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @imdrinkingpedro @jackie923 @janeie87

@jeewrites @jensensational71 @jessthebaker @jessthebaker @joels-darlin

@kate-skates @katw474 @kels976 @lady-bess @gwendibleywrites

@ladyofmidlo72 @lizzie-cakes @madnessofadaydreamer @maggiemoo1892

@pedrostories

[eve-was-framed]

Two teenage girls just made an incredible math discovery!

“Calcea Johnson and Ne'Kiya Jackson just gave a presentation at the American Mathematical Society's Annual Southeastern Conference. What they were able to do is find a way to prove the Pythagorean Theorem using trigonometry without circular logic - something mathematicians have been trying to do for nearly 2,000 years.”

[collegeathletics]

University of Arkansas Cheer

[licenseplateshowdown]

South Coast Region Quarterfinals

Washington, DC vs Virginia

[bongaboi]

Alabama: 2022-23 Southeastern Men's Basketball Champions

NASHVILLE, Tenn. -- Brandon Miller scored 23 points and grabbed 12 rebounds as fourth-ranked Alabama smothered No. 18 Texas A&AM 82-63 on Sunday for the Crimson Tide's second Southeastern Conference tournament championship in three seasons.

The Crimson Tide also capped their second SEC double dip in three seasons after picking up their regular-season trophy before Friday's quarterfinals. The Tide (29-5) extended the program record for wins while adding its eighth tournament title in its 15th appearance; both are second only to Kentucky in the SEC.

Miller, the tournament MVP and AP All-SEC player and newcomer of the year, posted his ninth double-double of the season. Jahvon Quinerly, who was 0-of-9 shooting with one point in the semifinal, made his first three 3s and scored 13 of his 22 points in the first half. Charles Bediako had 12 points and 13 rebounds.

The second-seeded Aggies (25-9) dropped to 0-3 in the tournament finale, losing for a second straight year. Dexter Dennis led Texas A&M with 14 points, Wade Taylor IV had 13 and Tyrece Radford 12.

Alabama snapped a five-game skid to Texas A&M, which included a 67-61 loss in College Station on March 4 in the regular season.

Mark Sears opened with a 3-pointer, and Alabama never trailed, making four of its first six 3s. The Tide led by as many as 33-17 with 4:10 left on a pair of free throws by Miller and 34-23 at halftime.

The Aggies could not knock down shots, shooting a season-low 29.7% (19-of-64) from the floor, and never got closer than nine in the second half.

The Tide padded their lead to as much as 25 before coach Nate Oats pulled his starters.

Alabama is chasing a top seeding in the NCAA tournament despite a season that has been challenging. Former Tide player Darius Miles and another man were indicted earlier this week on capital murder charges for the January shooting death of 23-year-old Jamea Harris.

In February, an investigator testified that Miles texted Miller to bring him his gun. Police also said that Jaden Bradley also was at the scene. Neither Miller nor Bradley have been charged, and both have been playing -- Miller, especially.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Elizabeth Weiss

Published; Jan 17, 2025

Biological anthropology and archaeology are facing a censorship crisis. Censorship can be defined simply as the suppression of speech, public communication, or information, often because it is deemed harmful or offensive. It can be enforced by government agencies or private institutions. Even self-censorship is increasingly prevalent, such as when an author decides not to publish something due to fear of backlash from their colleagues, or the belief that their findings may cause harm.

In these fields, censorship is primarily driven by professional associations like the American Anthropological Association (AAA) and the California Society for Archaeology, academic journals (often produced by these associations) such as Bioarchaeology International, universities, and museums, including the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History. The focus of this censorship largely involves the suppression of images—including X-rays and CT-scans—of human remains and funerary objects, which are artifacts found in graves.

Biological anthropologists, such as bioarchaeologists (who study human remains from the archaeological record), have historically used photos and X-rays of skeletal remains and mummies to explore disease patterns of past peoples, teach new methods of age estimation and sex identification, and attract new students to the field of biological anthropology. Archaeologists use photos of artifacts to facilitate comparisons with other artifacts, aid in reconstructing past cultures, and explore topics like the peopling of the Americas, prehistoric trade patterns, and the emergence of new technologies. These are just a few of the many ways images have been used in the field.

Yet, in recent years, the use of photos of human remains and artifacts has faced increasing censorship. For example, the guidelines of the Society for American Archaeology (SAA) and its journals state: “Out of respect for diverse cultural traditions, photographs of full or explicit human remains are not accepted for publication in any SAA journal.”

Additionally, they add that “line drawings or other renderings of human remains may be an acceptable substitute for photographs.” In other words, they also may not be acceptable! So, the photo on the left would definitely not be accepted in SAA journals, and the image on the right may or may not be accepted.

In conference bookrooms, books featuring covers with photos or realistic images of bones are now being rejected for display. Ironically, just ten years ago, my cover photo from Paleopathology in Perspective: Bone Health and Disease through Time was so popular that someone stole the poster from the SAA conference bookroom. Just three years later, however, the SAA wouldn’t allow my publisher to buy advertising space using the cover of my book Reading the Bones: Activity, Biology, and Culture. Now, even realistic images of human remains are shunned! Somehow, I doubt my latest book, On the Warpath: My Battles with Indians, Pretendians, and Woke Warriors, will make it into any anthropology or archaeology conference bookrooms either!

Southeastern Archaeology, the journal of the Southeastern Archaeological Conference, has implemented a policy that it “will no longer publish photographs of funerary objects/belongings.” This is an expansion of their previous policy against publishing photographs of human remains. They now add that “in lieu of photographs, authors may choose to include line drawings or other representations of funerary objects/belongings.” This decision was initially made without member input, leading go backlash against the decision. However, after a discussion and a vote, the censorship was upheld. Majority rule is no way to run a scientific organization—which should be done on adherence to the principles and methodologies of science!

Not to be outdone by the southeastern archaeologists, the Society for California Archaeology (SCA) declared that “NO depictions of the remains of any specific person, regardless of ancestry, are to be included in any presentations, including photographs, drawings, X-rays, 3-D models, etc.” So, forget displaying any historic figures such as the mummy of Lenin, the death mask of Ishi, or the skeletal remains of Joseph Merrick (also known as the Elephant Man, who taught many people that physical deformity does not equate to a lack of intelligence). This restriction even extends to individuals like Jeremy Bentham, a professor from London College, who explicitly requested his preserved body be displayed, illustrating the breadth of these new policies. All of these and many others are now strictly off limits!

While banning photos, the SCA does permit the use of “[d]iagrams of generic skeletons, bones, teeth, or other body tissues.” Additionally, at their conferences, “[a] caution symbol will be placed next to all presentations discussing human remains in the program and on signage outside the door of the session so that those who wish to avoid this subject matter can easily do so.” Is education truly about avoiding uncomfortable information and materials?

The AAA’s Commission on the Ethical Treatment of Human Remains has ruled that images and digital materials must be treated as parts of bodies—and, thus, not published in any public spaces, including on social media. They state:

The use of images and any other digital materials (e.g. maps or GIS) derived from human tissues or Ancestral remains should be considered as part of the respectful treatment of those whose actual remains are used. This treatment acknowledges that their use should be restricted to defined (and consented) purposes, and that such use should remain confined to a protected, nonpublic space (and should never be displayed on social media or other non-password protected internet sites, including educational sites, and museums).

In other words, even maps constructed with DNA information are now subject to restriction!

They also plan to require members to take an “ethics pledge” to join or renew their membership. This is to ensure that no one goes rogue and shows a human bone in a place where someone might actually see it.

Journals that once served as valuable resources for understanding bone pathology (or disease) are now discarding the most important tool of all—images. Bioarchaeology International now demands “explicit recent permission” from descendants for the use of photos or images of human remains, even if the image were taken before these requirements and had been previously published (often on multiple occasions). These are referred to as “legacy images.” The journal further states that “if no permissions are forthcoming, the manuscripts are not considered for review.” Bioarchaeology International is not alone in censoring the use of legacy images; nearly all peer-reviewed anthropology and archaeology journals now enforce a similar policy.

One exception is the American Association of Biological Anthropology, which publishes the prestigious American Journal of Biological Anthropology. This organization specifies that the requirement to obtain permission for images and data of human remains applies only to new data; “legacy data is not included.” One wonders how long these comparatively ‘courageous’ holdouts will last before caving in. Currently, they have a committee developing a policy on human remains.

The International Journal of Paleopathology specializes in case studies of rare pathologies, where photos are essential to conveying information. The editorial board acknowledges the usefulness of photos, but they also state that:

While careful description of pathological lesions is essential to research in paleopathology, authors are encouraged to consider whether photographs of human remains are critical to the presentation of the research. If not essential, out of respect for descendent communities, they should be replaced with drawings or included as supplementary material. Authors may wish to consult the editor regarding these issues.

Can a line drawing really do justice to the complex and intricate changes that occur on skeletons due to diseases like osteomyelitis (bone infections), osteoarthritis, cribra orbitalia (a sign of anemia), or the various forms of dental disease seen sometimes in a single individual?

Beyond this censorship, institutions are also toeing the ideological line to exclude images of human remains. In September 2023, Penn Museum decided that its inventory would not include such images. And, the renowned Mütter Museum of the College of Physicians of Philadelphia, which aims to educate the public about anatomical medicine and health, has removed all images of human remains from its online database. This includes the image of Carol Orzel, who had specifically wished that her body be displayed to educate others about fibrodysplasia ossificans progressive, the painful, debilitating, and fatal bone and cartilage disease she suffered from.

The Santa Barbara Museum of Natural History issues a warning to anyone who might find human remains: “Never take photos of human remains in our region; that is culturally inappropriate here.” But Santa Barbara is a region that encompasses many cultures, including some Central Mexican communities who do not view photographing human remains as inappropriate, as they celebrate their ancestral past by displaying the dead. For example, Lisa Holtzover and Juan R. Argueta note in their 2017 article that in the central Mexican town of Xaltocan, indigenous residents support archaeological research and the exhibition of ancient human remains. Yet, North American academics often criticize their cultural preferences, even while they claim to be decolonizing the field. In their blind adherence to wokeism, academics’ patronizing “we know best” approach towards indigenous peoples who deviate from their narrative exemplifies a white savior complex. Ironically, those who claim to oppose racism in their quest for wokeism are themselves perpetuating it. What next? Should we give Egyptian mummies a Christian burial in the name of decolonization?

Universities, especially in California, have also imposed complete moratoria on the use of human remains images. For example, on August 30, 2023, California State University Bakersfield’s president issued a moratorium that stated:

[T]he university is placing a moratorium on the research, teaching, display, imaging, and circulation of human remains and cultural items (including archival material, notes, movies, and data) that are potentially subject to NAGPRA and CalNAGPRA.

Similarly, on March 26, 2024, the president of California Polytechnic Pomona issued a memorandum stating:

Cal Poly Pomona will consult with Tribes prior to access, use, distribution or display of potentially sensitive or proprietary information. This includes but is not limited to images, renderings, and reproductions of ancestral remains and cultural items that are or have been in a university’s collection.

The universities are dressing up their actions as compliance with national and state reburial laws, yet these laws do not yet ban the use of images. And, from the look of anthropologists’ self-censoriousness and the acts of university presidents, new laws are likely not even necessary to restrict scientific research and educational efforts.

But this isn’t just a US problem. For instance, Uppsala University in Sweden advises that “photographs of human remains from indigenous ethnic groups are not normally to be published.” Similarly, the National Museum of Scotland has put out a statement that “All images of human remains except those that are wrapped have been removed from our online collections database.” At the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History, this policy resulted in the absurd covering up of a mummy that was wrapped because of the photo behind the mummy contained images of skulls from a forensic collection.

One may wonder what has led to such vast censorship. Progressive anthropologists have decided that images—and, in some cases, data—from human remains and funerary objects cause harm to indigenous peoples. They adopt the narrative from indigenous activists that these images are dangerous, rather than explaining the importance of research and dispelling the notion that societal ills like alcoholism, missing women and children, and poverty stem from evil spirits roaming the earth and wreaking havoc on their lives.

For instance, in a 2020 book chapter on digitizing anthropological collections, Laure Spake and colleagues, citing the Smithsonian’s collaboration with the Tlingit, stated, “the disturbance of Ancestors and their belongings can result in physical danger for the living.” Ironically, the authors used this argument to advocate for 3D scanning and creating replicas to allow for the rapid reburial of human remains as quickly as possible—a viewpoint that is now considered outdated!

At a Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act meeting on January 5, 2023, there was a discussion on the deletion of digital data. Even non-fungible tokens (NFTs) were discussed, although those discussing them didn’t even know what they were. During the meeting, Hawaiian Native activists argued that it’s possible to “entice the spirit of someone to inhabit” photos, digital data, and replicas, which they assert can be harmful. Consequently, the tribe opposes making scans and casts.

Larry Zimmerman and Margaret Conkey, in their 2024 article for the SAA Record, argue that control over photos and data should belong to Indigenous communities because it is “respectful” to believe their feelings of harm. In their words, “when someone tells you that what you are saying or doing hurts them and you truly respect them, you will make every effort you can to eliminate or at least to understand the cause of the hurt.”

Furthermore, in the 2024 AAA Ethical Commission on Human Remains, Sabrina Agarwal and her colleagues repeatedly imply that harm will come to descendent communities from research. The term “harm” actually was mentioned 44 times, including in the statement:

As an ethical approach to ethical solutions, the Commission chose to meet with representatives of those most affected by anthropological work with ancestral remains to learn their assessments of how they might be harmed or protected from harm when research and education is considered.

In a 2020 article in Sapiens, Chip Colwell wrote that “photographs of human are problematic because of specific cultural beliefs.” He elaborates that the Navajo, for instance, believe encountering spirits of the dead can sicken those who see them. He helpfully then adds that photos are more harmful than line drawings, 3D scans, or casts.

Also in 2020, Deborah Thomas, then the editor-in-chief of American Anthropologist, selected a photo of Margaret Mead with skulls for an issue featuring a special section on the anthropology of global white supremacy, complete with a republished conversation between Mead and James Baldwin. The image sparked a social media uproar and was said to be violent, racist, and harmful to indigenous and black communities. Thomas, agreeing that the image produced trauma, changed the cover and issued a groveling apology, which included the statement that “We know the role that anthropology has played in the erasure of Indigenous peoples in the Americas through its salvage/savage ethnography project and its continued use of human remains for ‘research’ purposes.”

Unfortunately, by leaving anthropology and archaeology devoid of images of human remains and funerary objects, we will learn less about the past. Legacy data will not be allowed for comparative research, and our next generation of forensic anthropologists will be poorly trained. More troubling is that non-scientists who attribute normal human variation to supernatural or alien influences will continue to captivate young minds with sensational images, drawing them towards pseudoscience instead of a genuine scientific understanding of the world.

Moreover, we should not expect censorship in anthropology and archaeology will be limited to new publications featuring human remains. I have no doubt that woke academics and publishers will start to remove previously-published materials. For example, the University of Florida Press deleted the images from my blog post, “Human Variation: More Than Skin Deep!”—which was intended to promote my book Reading the Bones—two years after its initial publication on their blog.

What is the solution for anthropologists? Woke anthropologists suggest a different mindset is needed. Zimmerman and Conkey argue that archaeologists will be required to abandon “cherished ideas like academic freedom” and “relinquishing complete control, ownership, or even stewardship of excavated materials” to continue working in the field. Additionally, the AAA Commission on the Ethical Treatment of Human Remains would also like to curtail our desire for academic freedom. They write, in a scolding tone, that “Academic freedom is not synonymous with ‘unrestricted access.’ Scholars, educators and museum curators must be responsible to descendants’ concerns for the dignified treatment of their dead.”

Once academic freedom is relinquished and the data—images and all—are in the hands of activist descendant communities, don’t expect new scientific discoveries. Instead, expect woke fairy tales arising out of victim narratives.

Censorship (and self-censorship) of images should not be seen as an isolated issue. It’s symptomatic of a wider pathology afflicting the field. Anthropology is dying. But when it’s finally dead, don’t expect to see a picture of the body!

--

About the Author

Professor Emeritus of Anthropology at San Jose State University and National Association of Scholars Board Member. Author of On the Warpath: My Battles with Indians, Pretendians, and Woke Warriors.

==

This is unabashed corruption.

Any organization or institution which implements policies like this must be stripped of all government (i.e. taxpayer) funding. You don't get to implement ideological dogma when the taxpayer is paying for it.

[martiandmichelle]

Ya comfortable cause this is a kinda long post. . .

Some of you long-time followers may remember that I used to do a fair amount of prostitution. I cut way back on it several years ago after one bad experience and the growing success of Studio M. I did keep a (very) few of my favorite johns that I might see once or twice a year. One is a guy near my age (73) who lives alone on an isolated ranch in Texas. In the 11 years I've known him he's always been a gentleman with a great sense of humor. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately!) he has minimal control of his average-sized cock and cums quickly though only a couple times a day. In between those few orgasms of his he spends his time with me groping, sucking, and staring at my tits.

Soooo, anyway, it was during my last visit with him this past late winter, and while his was admiring his handiwork with my boobs, that he asked me about other tricks I had going. I try to be as honest as I can with someone who pays so much interest and cash on me, so I told him he was only one of 5 guys and 1 woman that I prostitute for. He wanted to hear more so I told him what little I could - not wanting to give away any secrets of my other clients. He began rolling my nipples between his fingers and masturbating them as they grew, lowering my resistance and increasing my breathing. He said he thought it would be really hot if I prostituted myself more often. The winter/spring "conference" of the southeastern US chapter of my global studio was coming up and he thought I should go and advertise my services. By this point my nipples were squirting milk all over the place and my cunt was gushing so how could I say no?!?

So, I went. He guessed at what I could charge new clients and I thought he was crazy while still begging him not to stop what he was doing to me tits. (I never have charged him more than I did that 1st time with him.) I took his suggestion and got management's wholehearted approval to go and show off and offer my services for what I thought was a ridiculous price. I made a bet with him that, at that exorbitant price, I wouldn't get over 10 clients.

So I staked my space at the "show" and opened up for business. Advertising my all natural T cup tits (that's before I grew to a U cup) and learning the next largest natural bust was an M cup, I thought maybe I had underestimated my traffic. What I did underestimate was my underestimation! After only one hour of opening, the organizers had to move me to their largest empty booth because of so many guests visiting me. My midday, they had moved me to my own room and at 5:00 pm they moved me again to my own ballroom - and even THAT was crowded!! (The photo above was from the conference as I accepted a sealed offer from a member.)

I simply could not believe there was that many men (and women!) who wanted to - and were willing to pay so handsomely - for time with me and my body! There were guys going together to have, threesomes, foursomes, fivesomes, and more "-somes" with me. There was no way I could say anything but "yes!" and "Thank you!" to them all.

If you would like to read more, just message or inbox me, or even just comment on this post. I'm not starting this service until after my mountain trip so my first "working visit" is on October 3rd of this year. 2025 is going to be wonderfully busy!

(But don't fret, I'll still be posting here lots!)

[80ssmut3]