don_juan_de_paragon

--- The truck’s engine rumbled to life just after 11:30 PM, the low growl of the exhaust vibrating through Chyenne’s bones as she settled into the passenger seat. DJ had been cryptic all evening—no h

I’ve been buried in interviews for a week now, sifting through a parade of nannies who all seemed more interested in the paycheck than my little princess. My granddaughter, barely three years old and

In the midst of a swirling snowstorm, Chyenne found herself with an unexpected visitor—Dj, her tattoo artist, had arrived to ink her with a design she couldn't quite decide on. The snowflakes danced o