THE LOBBY

People have always decided who I am faster than they should. I expected that to fade with age. It didn’t. Adults just do it with more confidence. They assign motive based on appearance, draw conclusions without evidence, and warn each other about a version of me they invented. I used to correct it. Now I don’t. Letting assumptions stand tells me more than defending myself ever did.

People love hiding behind “good intentions” when their behavior causes damage. But intent doesn’t erase impact — and meaning well doesn’t make a pattern harmless. This lesson breaks down why “I didn’t mean it like that” is the most popular alibi, how sincerity keeps accountability delayed, and why adults are responsible for outcomes, not just motives. If someone keeps hurting you politely, the problem isn’t misunderstanding. It’s permission.

Stories are easy to tell. They adapt, soften, and explain just enough to sound believable. Patterns don’t do that. They repeat quietly, without concern for how they’re received. Over time, they reveal what stories try to smooth over — the habits, behaviors, and consistencies that don’t change no matter how the explanation does. When I write crime, it’s those repetitions I trust most. Not because they’re dramatic, but because they persist.

Charm wins early. Consistency tells the truth. Anyone can show up strong once, say the right things, and create intensity that feels meaningful. But performances fade. Patterns don’t. This lesson breaks down why charm is easy, why consistency is rare, and how to stop mistaking effort spikes for commitment. Because confusion isn’t chemistry — it’s information you’ve been ignoring.

Case files are built on what can be recorded — dates, times, locations, statements that hold their shape. But real moments don’t always cooperate. There’s a space between what gets written down and what actually happens in a room. Pauses. Avoided answers. Shifts in tone after the recorder stops. Those moments aren’t evidence. They don’t belong in reports. And yet, they’re often the ones that stay with you long after a case is considered closed.

Join the Find & Color the Suspect Challenge from Teardrops of Lake Tawakoni: The Coloring Book! Hidden suspects appear on select pages—spot them, color them, and upload your finished artwork in the comments. The first 10 readers to find and share all hidden suspects will win a free audiobook and have their pages featured on the author’s website. Dive into suspense, secrets, and eerie East Texas landscapes in this interactive coloring experience.

Every January, people act like the calendar hit a reset button. New year. New you. Clean slate. That’s cute — and wildly untrue. Time doesn’t erase patterns. Champagne doesn’t fix habits. And January doesn’t magically change decisions you’ve been avoiding for years. Fresh starts feel productive because they require hope, not action. But real change doesn’t come from a new year — it comes from new decisions. This lesson breaks down why “fresh starts” fail and what actually cre

Most first dates ask safe questions. The dark side asks useful ones. These aren’t icebreakers — they’re pattern detectors. Ten smartass, brutally honest questions designed to reveal how someone handles conflict, expectations, pressure, and accountability before you waste months figuring it out the hard way. If a question makes someone uncomfortable, defensive, or evasive, congratulations — it just did its job. Printable included.

Christmas isn’t magic — it’s camouflage. When everyone’s expected to be nicer, more forgiving, and “keep the peace,” bad behavior gets a holiday pass. Lesson 11 breaks down why confidence makes people lie worse during the holidays, how Christmas cheer becomes cover for half-truths, and why asking the right questions exposes stories faster than confrontation ever could. This isn’t about ruining Christmas. It’s about not helping lies survive it.

You’re not afraid of failing — you’re afraid of being seen trying. This lesson breaks down why visibility feels more dangerous than mistakes, how hiding masquerades as “being careful,” and why confidence never shows up before action. If you’ve been rehearsing in private, waiting to feel ready, or mistaking invisibility for safety, this is your wake-up call. The dark side isn’t about hiding — it’s about moving anyway.

During a routine response, an officer’s body camera recorded a narrow hallway ending in a door no one remembered seeing. Inside was a small room containing a bare mattress, blood smeared along the wall, and signs of a struggle that didn’t exist anywhere else in the house. When investigators returned, the room was gone. No door. No space for it to exist. Only the footage remained.

Lesson 9 dismantles the lie that wanting more makes you ungrateful. This post reframes hunger, boredom, and restlessness as information—not character flaws—and exposes how gratitude is often used to keep people small. If you’ve ever felt guilty for outgrowing a life that looks “fine” on paper, this lesson explains why stagnation isn’t maturity and why honoring your appetite is survival.

Lesson 8 explores the quiet truth nobody likes to admit: not all relationships end in explosions — some just expire. This post breaks down why outgrowing people doesn’t require explanations, how staying too long erodes your sense of self, and why being alone is healthier than forcing alignment that’s already gone. If you’ve ever felt lonely in the same room as someone you live with, this one will hit.

I’m not wrapping this in a bow. From December 24–28, The Dollmaker of Point is free on Amazon. No email signup. No catch. Just a full Texas thriller about a town that should’ve stayed buried, secrets that don’t respect holidays, and a killer who never clocked out. Consider this my Christmas gift to readers who prefer their stories dark, unsettling, and just a little too real. Merry Christmas. 🎄🩸

Lesson 7 is your wake-up call to stop auditioning for love and start disqualifying the wrong people early. Dating isn’t about being chosen — it’s about compatibility, honesty, and refusing to shrink yourself for approval. This lesson breaks down why wearing a mask early guarantees resentment later, how clarity filters faster than chemistry, and why the right people don’t need you to perform to stay.

Lesson 6 dismantles the myth of closure and replaces it with something far more powerful: distance. Not every situation needs a conversation, an explanation, or an emotional wrap-up. Some endings don’t come with answers — they come with peace. This lesson is your permission slip to stop reopening healed wounds, stop negotiating with the past, and finally accept that walking away is sometimes the most complete resolution you’ll ever get.

Silence isn’t rude—it’s a power move. You don’t owe your plans, emotions, or personal business to people who gossip, pry, or twist information for sport. The quieter you become, the safer your life gets. Not everyone deserves access to your inner world, and withholding details isn’t secrecy—it’s strategy. This lesson breaks down why your silence isn’t cold… it’s self-protection.

You’re not “acting different.” You’re adapting to the energy people bring into your life. Warmth is earned, not owed. When someone demands the best version of you while giving you their worst, that’s not your cue to over-explain—it’s your cue to survive. This lesson breaks down why your personality shifts aren’t attitude… they’re intelligence, boundaries, and dark-side self-protection.

You didn’t stop caring what people think because you’re reckless—you stopped because living your life for spectators is a slow death. Lesson 2 breaks down why “unbothered,” “too bold,” and “living like it’s your last day” aren’t chaotic traits—they’re dark-side survival skills. When you stop performing for approval and start making choices for yourself, you don’t become mean. You become free.

Welcome to the Unofficial Survival Guide for Chaotic Adults—where being “too much” is actually proof you adapted better than everyone else. This lesson breaks down why your so-called “dark traits” (suspicion, bluntness, detachment, pettiness, dark humor) are survival instincts, not flaws. From holiday ambushes to late-night drama texts, here’s how the dark side keeps you sane—and unsteppable.