N.J. Lysk

“The trousers were miles too long, even when Peter cuffed the legs. The socks bagged in the ankles, and the shirt and sweater were equally large. But when Peter finally managed to get the collars to lie right and glanced at the reflection he'd carved out of the dust on James's mirror, a shock went through him.
This was the face which had haunted him all his life, the one he had looked in the eye on the day he left the Darling house for the last time. The hair, messy and short, enthusiastically curling without the weight of his old braid to drag it down. The stubborn chin. The clear, sharp, sullen eyes full of everything he had never been allowed to be.
Peter ran his hands over himself slowly, breathing tentatively, feeling the weight of his chest under his shirt. He had given this body up. He had thought it belonged to Wendy, to the girl he wasn't. He had let his family make him believe that the only way he would ever be a boy was to be born again in a different shape, leaving everything of his body and history behind.
He breathed out and settled in the feeling of being himself, of being something whole.”
― Austin Chant, Peter Darling

“I like you,” his friend said, and it sounded like an admission. It had to be an admission, following what Josh had said about liking men, even as Josh insisted, “I really like you, Ray.”

Even as Ray arched into the soft, feathery kisses Josh was planting down his throat, he realised he wanted to know more. But the words wouldn’t come. He let his eyes flutter closed to focus on the sensation of Josh’s mouth and Josh’s hand sliding up his naked thigh, pulling his shorts down. Whatever else Josh felt or didn’t feel, this was true, he thought. His hands and his mouth and the way he was already hardening again against Ray’s side. He hadn’t asked about himself in particular, himself… before. He didn’t know how.

He knew he was wanted, but he didn’t know how to ask if he was loved.

He didn’t know how to ask if it was him or the omega wolf. But that wasn’t the real problem; he could have accepted either answer—painful as it might have been. It was something else that scared him: that maybe Josh couldn’t tell the difference. And that… that Ray couldn’t bear.”
― N.J. Lysk, Alpha for the Pack

“Just thinking about all that blood." I nearly shudder. "Doesn't it make you a bit squeamish?"
"Ladies haven't the luxury of being squeamish about blood," she replies, and Percy and I go fantastically red in unison.”
― Mackenzi Lee, The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue

“We are not broken things, neither of us. We are cracked pottery mended with laquer and flakes of gold, whole as we are, complete unto each other. Complete and worthy and so very loved.”
― Mackenzi Lee, The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue