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.

The Dark Beneath — Unmasking Evil Vacancy doesn’t mean empty. It means someone left without taking everything with them. In the world of The Dark Beneath, this roadside motel doesn’t trap people or chase them. It doesn’t need to. The beds remember weight, pressure, the moment a body realizes it isn’t leaving the way it arrived. Checkout is offered. Completion is not.

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.

The autopsy was routine until someone noticed the reflection. Not a staff member. Not equipment. A man’s face, faintly visible in the stainless steel beside the body. At first it was dismissed as distortion—until the same face appeared in another case, and another, each tied to brutal, rage-filled murders where the killer was never found. The bodies stopped moving. The photos didn’t. And whoever was responsible never seemed to leave the room.

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.

In a small East Texas town, the obituary page was never about surprises—it was about confirmation. That’s why people noticed when a familiar name appeared too early, written with the kind of detail only someone who knew the ending could manage. The paper called it an error. Then it happened again. And again. Soon, the page stopped announcing deaths and started scheduling them.

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

Small towns thrive on familiarity—routine, reputation, and silence. When nothing looks wrong, no one wants to ask hard questions. In places like East Texas, crime doesn’t announce itself; it hides in habits and unspoken agreements. This essay explores why familiarity can be more dangerous than anonymity, and why the quiet places we trust most often carry the heaviest secrets.

The job posting didn’t look strange at first. Regional hauls. Night shifts. Weekly pay. But the application asked questions no employer should care about—who would notice if you didn’t come home, how long before someone looked for you, whether anyone depended on you. People answered anyway. Because rent was due. Because work was work. And because no one realized the job wasn’t hiring drivers. It was selecting disappearances.

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.

By the time the fire burned down to embers, everyone had already decided to leave. Trucks pulled out one by one, music died, and the woods settled back into themselves. By morning, only one pickup remained near the tree line—keys still inside, tailgate down, fire long cold. No signs of a fight. No tracks leading away. Just the quiet understanding that someone stayed too long… and didn’t leave with the rest.

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.

The house was cleaned, repainted, and rented again without incident. No footsteps. No cold spots. No whispers in the dark. But the people who worked the crime scene weren’t as lucky. Long after the body was removed, first responders began reporting nausea, scratches, and the sensation of someone standing just behind them. Whatever was left behind didn’t stay with the house—it followed the witnesses home.

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.