Tag Archives: copyright by yajna ramnath

The Wreck of our Hearts

Synopsis: Dasher and Aria.

Two people who were broken down by life.
Two people whose default setting was self-destruction.
Two people who were betrayed by the ones they loved.
Two people who refrain from crossing the lines they know they shouldn’t.

Aria has spent the last year trying very hard to get over the guy who crushed her heart. While the world thinks that she is being dramatic, Aria cannot escape from the heartache that haunts her like a ghost.

Dasher has spent two years trying to get over the death of someone who meant the world to him. While his family thinks that it is high time he move on and stop acting out, Dasher cannot escape the emptiness he feels where the one he loved should be.

On a dark night in the middle of Brooklyn Bridge, an accident brings both these broken souls together. They form a pact to hold each other up, no judgments, no questions.

But love is a fickle beast that creeps up on even the most unsuited couples. Aria and Dasher think they have moved past the insecurities and the drama, but fate has other plans.

Aria and Dasher… 

Two people who were better off not meeting.

Or so they thought…

Goodreads TBR

(please note that the following content is copyright@yajnaramnath2017)

A note from Dasher to Holden

It was exciting wasn’t it? That first time you spoke to her. She was refreshing. She was different from the others.

She was not thrilled by your charms. She did not agree with your opinions. Her innuendos and humor rivaled your own. Your trust fund and career goals did not make her wet. Neither did the fact that you visited exotic countries.

She was never emotional and she did not react.

You didn’t know it at the time but you had accepted an unspoken challenge.

You see, you wanted a certain type of partner, someone who would match your ambitions. There was nothing wrong with that, you should’ve just left her alone.

She was the girl who had closed herself off from emotion. Her dark past was something that she didn’t want to face ever again.

But you wanted her, didn’t you? You unknowingly wanted to make the rock that served as a heart, beat for the first time in years.

So you integrated yourself into her life. You were the first person she spoke to in the morning and your wishes of sinful dreams were the last thing she saw before she fell asleep.

There were so many words she’d have rather left unsaid. There was so much about her past she’d rather she kept to herself.

But you couldn’t let her do that, could you? You believed you genuinely cared about her. You believed that you genuinely saw a future with her and so you told her that. You uttered those three cursed words and showed her your dreams and goals with her by your side.

She believed.

Fast forward two years and suddenly she isn't what you want anymore. The attractive girl with the heart of stone and the mouth to rival a sailor, no longer existed. She was everything a girl in love needed to be. She molded herself to your liking and she aligned her future with yours.

She held on no matter how badly you treated her.

Then you realized that you wanted what you wanted all along—the girl that matched your future. The girl you had always wanted before her.

You didn’t know how to leave her though, did you?

You tried the harshest of words and you would’ve succeeded in losing her too.

You are blindly naïve and optimistic. 

Girls like you, trying to get attention, is extremely tacky and it puts me off to be honest. 

You cannot go where I am going. 

She would’ve hurt for a little bit but she would’ve moved on, had you been honest with her.  You could’ve skipped the insults and you could’ve told her the truth. You could’ve admitted that you found someone else and that it had nothing to do with her.

She would have understood. She loved you enough to let you go.

But you followed up every insult with words of hope.

I love you enough to tell you the truth. 

If I saw you with anyone it would kill me. 

My heart is breaking. 

Maybe we should continue as we are and see where it all takes us. 

And she believed in you, because that’s what you always convinced her to do. You used pretty words and topped it with empty promises and she fell for it like a kid seeing Santa.

You flirted, as if it were normal. You texted, as if it were normal. You sent photos, as if it were normal. She believed you were back together, because you were normal.

Four months later, she gets a call from a friend, the one you never liked. She was told to log onto social media because there was something she needed to see.

It wasn’t just for her to see, but for the entire world. The same world you had hidden her existence from, now knew that you were happily in love with someone else. She read the comments of people congratulating you, and telling you how happy they were that you finally found someone.

So what was she for those three years?

All you had to do was tell her the truth. All you had to do was say that you were not feeling the relationship anymore, without empty promises or a hopeful maybe. Instead, the girl who had a heart of stone had no idea what to do when it broke.

You solidified the fact that everyone in her life is bound to leave her. You cemented the fact that every bad thing that ever happened to her was because of love. You ensured that she will always feel inadequate in the face of someone more accomplished.

You’re out there somewhere with your arms wrapped around your happily ever after, laughing genuinely and preparing for a future filled with possibilities.

She out there too, alone, never trusting and never believing. She’s putting on a fake smile and dancing with strangers.

While you have your vows and promises of forever, she leaves before she can get left.

While you will always have hope and optimism, she will always be cynical.

She doesn’t know it, but someone is out there. Someone who values everything she had offered you. Someone who would treat her the way you should’ve.

My only hope is that she recognizes it before she destroys me the way you destroyed her. My only hope is that she doesn’t break me, the way you broke her.

To the person in the crowd…

I don’t know you, and maybe you don’t know me. I will tell you this though:

It’s okay.

I know you feel alone even in a crowd of people.
I know that sometimes even when you have a horde of loved ones ready to listen or ready to help, you still feel helpless.
I know that sometimes despite the fact that you have more than what others do, you still want more.
I know that even though you won’t admit it out loud, you envy those around you. You want what they have.
I know that sometimes even though you have travelled the world, coming home seems to be the only thing that makes sense, even when the house is empty.
I know that you hate the shell they see. I know you want someone to see past all that. You want someone who is going to look behind the physical appearance and the lavish lifestyle. You want genuine people.

You want someone who knows that sometimes you listen to sad, romantic music because it soothes you.
You want someone who accepts that there are things you have been through, too.
You want someone to feel your excitement when you find that album you were looking for.
You want someone who is going to sit with you all night watching mindless TV.
You want someone who values what you have to say, even when it may not be the best advice.
You want someone who is okay with you spending all day in bed without even hopping into the shower.
You want someone who sees past the white lies.

I know this because, although I may not be in your lifestyle, I have watched you. I have seen behind the practiced smile and the filtered group photos. I read between the lines of your inspirational quotes. I know that you surround yourself with so many people because you’re afraid. You’re afraid that if those people were not there, you’d be completely alone. I know you don’t want people thinking that you, you the coolest kid in the group, pines for epic love. I know that sometimes it is hard to breathe around the noose you tied around your neck, the noose of the image you decided to show people.

I know.

But, it’s okay.

You will get through this. You will get through it the day you decide to stop living in fear of their opinions and start living in honor of your true self. I know that you are expected to have a certain way about your life. You are expected to be with a certain type of people. You are expected to do the things that make everyone else around you proud.

But, it’s okay.

Farewell, from the one you’re expected to ignore.

Four

Circumstances and experiences can change you drastically. It doesn’t matter how many clichés you follow, it doesn’t matter how many catchy quotes you use to lie to those around you, it doesn’t even matter whether you physically stop yourself from feeling every little thing–at the end of a long day when you sit down with just your thoughts to surround you–the reality grabs hold of you in a vise grip.

Life is hard. It is so fucking hard that sometimes you don’t really understand which way is up and which way is down. There really isn’t anything wrong with having that feeling, it just means that somewhere and somehow, things are going exactly as they should be.

Nothing worth having comes easy in life and all that.

Sure, there’s that handful. That handful that have their lives mapped out for them. That handful that think they are truly living by never moving off of their path. Those people that knew from the beginning where they want to head and how they want it to turn out.

I realized that those are usually the saddest people I know. They are the ones sitting in a crowded bar surrounded by people who tell tales of their journeys. They are the ones surrounded by millions of “loved ones” yet never knowing the true feeling of love because that was never in their plans, or maybe they let it go because that was going to hinder their progress. They are the ones people like us watch from afar wondering why we couldn’t be as lucky, but soon realizing we would never change a thing.

I was that person. Until a certain day in May, I was the person that watched others with unhidden envy. I wanted success at my young age. I wanted the extra cash flow to go where I want and buy what I felt. I wanted that shiny engagement ring or that late night cuddle. I wanted the fame. I banked on it. Then came that day… that day when the universe aligns and suddenly you see things clearly. You take of those rose colored glasses and you see things for what they are. You see people for who they are.

It is so easy to get wrapped up in someone else’s idea of reality. It is so easy to get blinded by someone else’s version of success.

However, on the 26th of June, I am going to salute myself with a bottle of something bubbly, while hanging out with my mom. I am going to salute myself for four years of never giving up. Four years of watching people, friends, and family come and go from my life. Four years of pining for a love that was a flash fire. Four years of heartache and tears and those special moments of happiness and excitement. Four years of coming home tired and barely being able to bath let alone sit at my laptop and tap away at the keys. Four years of questions and struggling. Four years of fluctuating psoriasis. Four years of doubt, belief and then a little more doubt.

Four years of living my dream of calling myself an author.

You see, although I may not be on any fancy list. Although the sales may not be high. Although ninety percent of the people who read my books only do so because I put it up for free. Although sometimes it takes me a year to push out something half as good.

Although sometimes very few support what I do… I can look back on that day and know that four years and eight books later, I did what I always wanted to do. Every time that I sit at my laptop or look at my bookshelf, I know I can still do what I dreamt of doing.

No matter my bank balance, no matter how little of the world I have seen, no matter that some out there don’t think I am worth taking a chance on, I still get to call myself an author. I can still smile and know that even for a little while, I helped someone escape from reality when they pick up my book. I can create all the characters I want. I can create an alternate world where I can still believe in things like happily ever afters. I can create a world where no one will judge you for who you are and who you want to be.

That in itself is the biggest achievement in my life. I am lucky enough that every year on the 26th of June I can celebrate that fact. No matter where, no matter how and no matter who… my achievements will always be my biggest success.

Hold on to your dreams, but never forget to live while you’re at it. The best part of seeing your dreams come true, is the experience of the journey.

copyright@yajnaramnath2017

Succumb

“There is a difference,” she whispered in the dark. “There is a difference between those that are lost and those that wander.”

“What is the difference?” he asks, wrapping her up in a dark embrace.

“Not all those who wander are lost,” she says remembering a quote she heard from a long time ago.

“What do you consider yourself?” his darkness licks at her skin erotically.

“I am lost,” she moans.

“Why?” he purrs.

“Because I have always been left behind,” she looks out from her vantage point. She stands at the top of a cliff and far behind her, are all the people she filled her life with. “Today, I will leave them all behind.”

“Why him?” he points to the tall man with the Cheshire smile.

“He held my heart,” she shakes her head, annoyed with herself. “But he did not hold it carefully,” her voice takes on a childlike lilt. “He dropped it. It broke into a million pieces. I can’t find them all.”

“In order for it to have broken that badly, it would have had to be cracked before,” he strokes his dark fingers along her cheeks.

“They cracked it,” she points to a couple standing in a distance.

“They are the people that birthed you,” he says with laughter as he circles her body.

“But they did not wipe my tears,” she closes her eyes feeling a tear fall into the darkness below her. “They did not protect me from the dragons. They did not even notice when I took on the form of the dragon to protect myself.”

“Who are all those other people?” he points to the familiar faces.

“They were the people who promised to be my friends forever and ever,” she throws away the half heart of her best friend necklace. “They never answered when I called. They only texted back with excuses. They were only there when they had to be.”

The darkness moves his erotic hands over her hips and circles her throat. “What do want to do now, little girl?”

“I want to fly into the darkness with you,” she says with a sparkle in her eyes.

“But to do that,” he shakes his head, pressing a little tighter. “You have to let it all go. All the hopes, all the dreams, all the feelings… you have to be prepared for people to hate you. People won’t like you very much.”

She hesitates. She always cared for people in her life. She always put them first. She always made sure she was careful of hurting anyone else’s feelings. Could she do it?

“Yes, pretty girl,” he whispers against the pulse in her neck. “Can you do it? Can you stare into the eyes of the ones you love and feel nothing? Can you stop the feeling of disappointment from resurrecting hope? Can you just be?”

She thinks on the heartache of being rejected. She thinks on all the hopes and dreams she had. She thinks of the daily struggle to do her best and still not reap any rewards for it. She is tired. She is tired of feeling all these emotions that weigh her down time and again. She is tired of searching for love in the people that gave birth to her and were supposed to look out for her. She is tired of empty promises and disappointment. She is tired of the weight of responsibility on her shoulders.

“Will you promise that I won’t feel this tired anymore?” she asks with wide eyes.

“I promise,” he pulls her slowly towards the edge.

“Will you promise that it isn’t going to hurt?”

He smiles. “Oh baby, it is going to hurt. It is going to hurt so bad but the hurt will be good.”

“Will I be as alone as I am now?”

“You will always be alone, darling,” he kisses her on the lips. “But I will be with you, guiding you.”

She takes his hand with that promise, just one step and she falls into the abyss with darkness. Darkness envelopes her in his comforting embrace. He lifts her to a height where all the people can see her. For the first time, she doesn’t not smile, she does not cry and she does not frown, instead she looks on watching them unravel before.

For the time being, she chose being lost to the darkness over dancing in the light.

copyright@yajnaramnath.com2017

Communication vs Social Media

Social Media is such a powerful thing. I know this because Social Media rules 90% of my life. I used the excuse that I needed to be on all platforms and continuously interacting with people for the sake of my books, but honestly I was and to an extent, am ruled by it.

In Ophelia, I had a quote where Ophelia believed that your relationship meant nothing until you confirmed it on Facebook. You couldn’t start your dinner until you Instagram’ed a photo of it. You didn’t feel something emotionally deep until you Tweeted something cryptic. You were not perfect until you used the best Snapchat filter. Continue reading

It’s not you, it’s me…

Life is pretty simple. You make a decision and there’s a 50/50 chance you’re either gonna get good results or flake out.  Some of us fall under the latter category. Always flaking. Personally, when you’re all alone with no one to witness your internal downfall, you start to focus on all the bad things that have happened to you since day one. You start to believe that it is you.

What am I on about? Honestly, I don’t even know. There’s no method to madness and all of that. Continue reading

Feel… Accept…Move On…

It has become a sort of trend being the broody and depressed person. The person who claims to have so much going on behind a big smile.

I used to be that person. I used to smile and pretend that everything was okay, no matter how many millions of pieces my heart shattered into.

I started a book that has been deeply hard and emotional for me. Believe it or not it has very little to do with me or my life. Maybe a few aspects here and there, but other than that it is a deeply heartbreaking and emotional tale.

I decided to write it simply to adopt a new approach on life.

Continue reading

Listen before you judge !

“People who die by suicide, don’t want to end their lives… they want to end the pain.”

 

I write this fresh off of re-watching the entire thirteen episodes of 13 Reasons Why.

I read a comment online where someone said that this series/story glorifies suicide, some people even mentioned the fact that those who choose suicide happen to be cowards. Maybe there are some out there, I have had the misfortune of meeting a few of those, who use suicide like a weapon—a cry for attention.

You know the saying though, for one bad egg, don’t throw away the whole basket.

Here’s the thing, suicide isn’t as simple or cowardice as people think. At such a young age can you even begin to imagine what causes someone to suddenly think to themselves I’m done? Continue reading

Yes, I write erotica … so?

 

More often than not I receive judgmental smiles and those suddenly uncomfortable look away moves whenever I tell people that I write adult erotica books. Even as people page through my book or see teasers of it, I’m given that smile.

You know that smile, right? That smile that says “well done, but why can’t you write about real stories?” or “don’t let our children read it.”

Honestly, I don’t write for children. It isn’t something I want to do. I’ve tried it once or twice but I always ended up adding sex or language somewhere in the story. Maybe to some I might be crass, but to me, my characters probably project the amount of passion I have.

And real stories? Sex and language is part of real life, right? Or are we still with the stalk theory?

No, I’m not a sex fiend who gets boinked every which way on every other day. Nor am I a potty mouth unless I really have to be.

In fact, any author would tell you that it isn’t even us that we’re writing about. Sure, maybe a quality or two would be siphoned off of us, but everything else is pure creativity.

This might have me losing brownie points, but what the actual fuck?

This is story-telling. That is exactly what Fifty Shades of Grey was about. It doesn’t mean that suddenly every woman/man who writes erotica has certain guilty pleasures or adapt that kind of a lifestyle—honestly even if they do, it isn’t anyone’s right to judge—it is what works with a story.

Even if there isn’t any need for the extra-special BDSM sex play, so what if an author decides to put it in? *pun intended* teehee.

Authors have stories to tell, be it personal or fictional, that is what we do.

Comparing every story to a label of whatever is hot out there in that moment, is an insult to the author and to your intelligence.

If you do not understand it, don’t judge it. Leave it where you found it and carry on with life. Talk crap about the character if you want. Talk about how the story never made sense in your head. Don’t bash an author though. Don’t give them those uncomfortable stares and sly smiles that say, I know what goes on in your head, you sex freak!

Where is this coming from you may ask?

Well, the other day I was asked why don’t I try my hand at writing children books. I laughed and said, “That isn’t something I’m looking to do just yet.”

To that end I was given a long lecture about how even adults prefer Harry Potter over books like Fifty Shades.

Firstly, two completely different genres. Don’t compare the two.

Secondly, so what? If there are adults out there that shy away from sex in books, then power to them. It is their choice. Just like how it is my choice to write the kind of books I want to write.

If no one reads it, it is okay. I had a story to tell and I did, and it’s out there… making me immortal.

Storylines can always match. There will always be hundreds of books about a human that falls in love with a vampire, the billionaire and the poor girl, the reformed bad boys, and the super rich lifestyle—it will always be there.

But in each word between each cover lies the dreams of the individual whose name is on the book.

Maybe respect that before judging someone for what story they choose to tell.

APRIL FOOL!

The idea behind April Fool’s Day was apparently created way back when. I often wonder what went through their heads at the time and why April? Why not any other month?

Stepping away from my questions, let me do what I do best and tell you about a few of my April Fool’s Memories.

Continue reading