Hi! Shawn here. I write across genres, genders, and galaxies — but my stories make a circle and always come back to slap you with the same truths: love is strange, sex is sacred (and sometimes ridiculous), and softness doesn’t have to mean simplicity. No matter what I’m writing — fluff, grief, robots, or BJs — I’m still chasing humor, depth, and the kind of emotional sincerity that won’t leave you alone for days. I try to be consistent in diving deep — and resurfacing with something real. Sometimes it’s a pearl. Sometimes it’s seaweed. Sometimes both. Sooo if you're into sarcasm, safety, and slightly dangerous affection, there’s probably a seat for you at my (metaphorical, but very real-feeling) kitchen table slash book club picnic blanket. If three concerned citizens, my last Uber driver, my tofu dealer, and one ex I still text about the sourdough starter we co-parented had to describe me, they’d probably say: Feast for the eyes. Delight for the D. Pain in the ass. Yeah, that tracks.