Free Power of the Pen by Xyla Turner Page A

it anymore, so I decided to drop it for now.
    “Well, one day, you’ll have to tell me about your time there,” I said.
    He stopped eating and looked up to me. Nothing was verbalized, but something passed in that moment that I was even uncomfortable with, so I broke eye contact with him and sipped my coffee.
    The pancakes were fluffy, just like the eggs and the bacon was crispy. Just the way I liked. Our conversation was minimal, as we were eating, but our legs were touching and occasionally, he would squeeze my thigh before he reached for his coffee.
    “This was delicious Zach.” I was thoroughly surprised.
    He grunted.
    His plate was empty, as he devoured his large helping, while my plate still held one pancake and half of the omelet. I planned to eat that for lunch. I moved back to my emails, as he put everything away, and once again denied my help. Before Zach brought the food out, I was in the middle of reading a post from real_zhays. Apparently, that was the real one and he wrote an excerpt to me on his personal website. The only reason that I knew was because I signed up for alerts that included my name or my blog. Mr. Hays blasted me, badly! I finished reading and started to log onto my blog to give him another piece of my mind, including the mama insult.
    Something touched my shoulder, so I turned to see Zach staring at my screen, but his face was pale. On the screen was a window displaying real_zhays post and the other half was a window with my blog.
    “What?” I asked him.
    “Uh,” he seemed to be shocked.
    “What do you know this guy?” I asked. “Ooooh, yeah. You did say you were a writer, so you know him, don’t you?” I accused.
    “Know?” he started. “I, uh, know of him.”
    He shook his head, “Wait, so you blog on The Jay Blog?”
    “How do you know about The Jay Blog?” I became suspicious.
    “Who doesn’t know? That blog has received national recognition.” He countered.
    “Yeah, okay, but do you know this author?” I pointed to the screen. “He’s such an asshole. He portrays his writings as one thing but sends women’s literature back thousands of years with his submissive, BDSM, servitude bullshit.” I shook my head. “Then he has the fucking nerve to call me out like I’m the one that has the problem. In his books, some of the men characters drag women around with collars on their neck, then treat them like dogs, having them lap up their food, like fucking ANIMALS. He’s probably 5’2 with a short man complex,” I kept ranting.
    I was already upset about the post, but the fact that Zach may know him was getting me antsy.
    “Do you know him?” I asked, at this point standing and looking at him with my hands on my hips.
    “I’ve heard of him and read his work.” He stared at me with something in his eyes.
    “You’ve read his work?!” I exclaimed.
    “Why are you so upset?” he asked.
    “If you read his work and you don’t know why I’m so upset, then I’m not sure what else there is to say.”
    “He is a writer, he has another point of view, and so as a blogger, shouldn’t you keep an open mind?” he asked me.
    “WHAT?!” I yelled. “Are you serious, right now?”
    “Have you read all of his shit?” I asked. “It’s fucking degrading. You have a mother right? How would you feel if your mother was doing this shit? Do you have sisters?”
    He shook his head, but I was on level ten and it did not matter what answer he provided.
    “The man’s a sadist, and he promotes that crazy shit, sending woman back millions of years. He acts like it is empowering, but it’s not.” I started and then realized that he was looking at me funny.
    “I’ve got to go,” he said.
    I looked away from him and said, “Yeah, I think that’ll be best.”
    His eyebrow went up my comment. Then he nodded and went to the bedroom, allowing me to return to my task so I could blast real_zhays’ ass. A few minutes later, Zach emerged from the room.
    “Well, this was fun,”