Crowned in Sin

Another year older, wiser, and still gloriously unhinged. This birthday isn’t just cake and candles—it’s a coronation. I’ve burned, rebuilt, and crowned myself again. Between motherhood, marriage, and mayhem, I learned to celebrate me—the chaos, the softness, the spark. So here’s to hot-pink resilience, black-lace confidence, and gold-lined boundaries. Long live the Queen of Smut. 👑

Welcome to the shadows, where books don’t just tell stories—they rip you open and stitch you with barbed wire. 🖤 Here, we kneel for psychos, cracked crowns, and cliffhangers that ruin lives. This Library is my altar, my confessional, my cathedral of chaos. Every review bleeds. Every rating scars. Every quote cuts deep. Use code welcome0925 for your first month FREE.

I lost 80 pounds—along with my tits, ass, and sense of identity. My reflection changed, but the pain didn’t. Two years ago, I was finally diagnosed AuDHD, and suddenly everything made sense. Dark romance didn’t just entertain me—it saved me. I’m healing, but I’m not there yet. The Queen is still rising.

He was a soldier with a MySpace. I was a feral, blunt little goblin with trauma and zero chill. Now we’re 18 years married, still surviving deployments, infertility, field trainings, toxic trolls—and I still want him to tie me to a tree.

It took years to get diagnosed with PCOS. Years of “just lose weight” and “just relax.” Add infertility, hirsutism, and AuDHD into the mix—and my body felt like it was glitching on every level. I didn’t just grieve what it couldn’t do… I grieved who I thought I was supposed to be. This drawer? It’s hormonal, hairy, heartbreaking—and I’m opening it anyway.

At 14, I just wanted to feel wanted. At 22, I was still chasing connection in all the wrong places. Both times, I was left broken—and silent. But silence doesn’t heal. It festers. Now, I’m opening the drawer I tried to lock forever. This is my truth. Raw, messy, and finally unleashed.