Caitlin Helices

You're telling me I get to spend the rest of my life with you!?!?!

I love you forever and ever and ever and a day x's eternity in reverse ! You truly are the most amazing soul I have ever known. Your kindness, your intelligence, your humor, compassion, and creativity....how the hell did I get so damn lucky!?!

Thank you for loving me and letting me love you!

Yesterday, I was lucky enough to marry my best friend, my confidant, the most amazing man I could have ever hoped to meet. Vincent Helices you are my dream come true. You are the greatest source of safety, warmth, kindness, and inspiration, and this joirney into the infinite with you is going to be the greatest adventure. I love you beyond forever!
🌕 🪷🪬💚🧝🏻‍♀️🧙🏽‍♂️💜🛡️⚕️🌑

We had a very small, short ceremony in Edmonton, Alberta, to officially become husband and wife. To all our friends and family, we WILL be having an actual ceremony next fall in Canada. We will be updating everyone with more details as my immigration progresses.

For now, I am beyond thrilled, joyous, ecstatic, grateful, and so lucky to get to join such a loving, wonderful family! I truly could not have asked for more in this lifetime!

Thank you to everyone for your love and support!
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"You have to come back to me. My future is darkened without your light. I am lost without your direction. You have to come back to me, you see, because I need to tell you that you are my North Star. My singularity. My illumination through a universe of shadow and shade. You have to come to come back to me. You have to know; this lifetime is wayward without you."
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Stay tuned for more "Mosaic" teasers!
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"He just watches me, constantly he watches me...the other day he was, rooted to the wall of the Winter Garden, black vines tethering him into the stone. Other nights he stands in the corridor, just beyond my room, and he's dripping, and I swear that I can--I can hear it, some sort of liquid oblivion that seems to spill from him, pooling darkness into every corner he occupies. Other nights, I wake to him at the end of my bed; nothingness against more nothingness, and I swear, even the light of the moon can not touch him...I'm losing my senses... I feel so scared all the time..."

Thompson's presence behind me stirs the hairs on the back of my neck.

"You have to help me, please, Avery. You have to call him off, you have to tell him to stop. After all, he is YOUR wraith..."
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Thompson is haunted, having incurred the rage of a dark and daunting presence that calls himself Avery's wraith...

And he is driving Thompson to madness. Or is Thompson already deeply disturbed, torn along a dagger-edge of reality and fiction, truth and hallucination? Plagued by an unconscious guilt of horrific deeds that can not be undone, of blood that can not be washed from his hands, of self-inflicted nightmares from which he can never escape...

Stay tuned for more "Mosaic" teasers!
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"I just--I just was wondering if you wanted to go to the theater with me, Avery." Thompson is on the front landing now. "I mean, tomorrow, not tonight, I have--something I have to do tonight."

I look over my left shoulder quickly, the living room empty now.

"What?" Thompson raises his eyes, ash and slate settling against my vision. "Is there someone here with you? I know your mom isn't home yet. There shouldn't be anyone else with you, Avery."

I take a half step backwards, I can feel the presence behind me, knowing Thom is incapable of perceiving the subtle flex and bend the Valence of the Captain's Armor casts into the chill of the November air.

"Thom," I narrow my line of sight, his eyes shifting from my own to the entry of my dwelling, his head still hung and shadows cling to the angles of his face, "How do you know my mom is still at the Estate?"
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There's something "off" about Thompson Holloway. He and his twin sister, Breya, have been Avery's neighbors for as long as she can remember. Though not all her memories with the twins are dappled in the amber glow and hazy bliss of childhood merriment. They're dark, glossed in a mist of bizarre circumstances, and awkward silences.

Thom is quiet. Obedient to the wishes and commands of Breya and their bedridden mother. He is failing Redirection; consistently unable to concentrate or remember any material, despite the persistent scolding of his sister to do better...do better...

"You're a failure..."
"What's wrong with you..."

Those words haunt Thom, just like he haunts Avery's presence. He's always been attentive to her, despite his sister's absolute disgust with Avery Black and her dissent towards the Authority.

Avery is the one thing Thompson will defy his sister's autocratic disposition for, the only thing he has ever conjured a scrap of bravery for...but bravery to Thompson is something different...something derived from a warped lexicon and a shaded conception of reality.

Thom is unraveling. His obsession with Avery inflamed by his fear of rejection. But, a dire circumstance will force the two into a dangerously close proximity, with nothing but Thom's disillusioned dreams between them...
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"I just--I just was wondering if you wanted to go to the theater with me, Avery." Thompson is on the front landing now. "I mean, tomorrow, not tonight, I have--something I have to do tonight."

I look over my left shoulder quickly, the living room empty now.

"What?" Thompson raises his eyes, ash and slate settling against my vision. "Is there someone here with you? I know your mom isn't home yet. There shouldn't be anyone else with you, Avery."

I take a half step backwards, I can feel the presence behind me, knowing Thom is incapable of perceiving the subtle flex and bend the Valence of the Captain's Armor casts into the chill of the November air.

"Thom," I narrow my line of sight, his eyes shifting from my own to the entry of my dwelling, his head still hung and shadows cling to the angles of his face, "How do you know my mom is still at the Estate?"
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There's something "off" about Thompson Holloway. He and his twin sister, Breya, have been Avery's neighbors for as long as she can remember. Though, not all her memories with the twins are dappled in the amber glow and hazy bliss of childhood merriment. They're dark, glossed in a mist of bizarre circumstances and awkward silences.

Thom is quiet. Obedient to the wishes and commands of Breya and their bedridden mother. He is failing Redirection; consistently unable to concentrate or remember any material, despite the persistent scolding of his sister to do better...do better...

"You're a failure..."
"What's wrong with you..."

Those words haunt Thom, just like he haunts Avery's presence. He's always been attentive to her, despite his sister's absolute disgust with Avery Black and her dissent towards the Authority.

Avery is the one thing Thompson will defy his sister's autocratic disposition for, the only thing he has ever conjured a scrap of bravery for...but bravery to Thompson is something different...something derived from a warped lexicon and a shaded conception of reality.

Thom is unraveling. His obsession with Avery inflamed by his fear of rejection. But, a dire circumstance will force the two into a dangerously close proximity, with nothing but Thom's disillusioned dreams between them...
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Life has been a bit crazy—in all the good ways lately!!!

I do have a lot more writing content coming soon!

Tomorrow is the last farmer’s market for the season, so part of my week won’t be fully consumed with baked goods and coffee (unless I start doing private request bakery to make some extra cash, which is on the table right now).

Lots of “Mosaic” content and other projects coming soon!!!

Thank you all for the support!!!
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Saying goodbye to you in the crowded Portland Airport was one of the hardest things I’ve done.

Watching you vanish into the masses at the TSA checkpoint, out of sight, was worse.

Driving away was like leaving a greater part of myself behind.

But, knowing that the distance we’ve contended with for so long is only temporary, that my entire future is at your side, does make it that much better.

You’ve given me gifts I didn’t think I would find in this lifetime: safety, unconditional love, acceptance, peace. To say I am grateful for you doesn’t even come close.

You possess the most playful and loving spirit, warmed even further by your gentleness and patience. I have never been able to be so authentically myself, to laugh so hard, to smile so much, to feel so creative and inspired.

You are my paradise. My reprieve. My everything. My family. My best friend. My home.

You are my moonstruck darkness, the scent of woodsmoke and pine, starlight on the snow.

I miss you. I can’t wait to be with you again, to hold you, to fall asleep and wake up with you, always.

I love you , forever and a day X’s eternity in reverse, and back again, until time comes undone and entropy dissolves into oblivion, until all the stars blink into nothingness and the event horizon of a new reality begins.
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I don’t know what else to say, , you’re the love of my life.

You walked into my world and changed everything. EVERYTHING.

The kindness you show me, the respect, the nurturing, the care…

To find my counterpart in this often disconnected world is the most unbelievable blessing. To laugh with you, to share my writing with you, to cry with you, dream with you, to plan a life with you…my gratitude is truly infinite.

You have the biggest most golden heart I have ever been so lucky to collide with.

I can’t wait for forever.

I love you forever and a day x’s eternity in reverse and I will never stop reminding you of that!

💜💚💛

PS: Loki has never so instantaneously bonded with someone, he’s your little fuzzem now too!
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I know I said “yes” before you even finished asking the question, , but I never thought it was possible to be so uplifted, so surrounded by love from a singular source, and I couldn’t even come close to containing my excitement.

You were unshakable in your friendship when I was going through the hardest moments of my life. You walked into every crooked and collapsing dream I had and held up the walls. You spilled radiance into the darkness and strung the stars back in the velvet ink of the night sky. My gratitude will forever resonate through the memory of the one, life-altering moment of bravery between the two of us that changed everything…

I didn’t think a love like yours existed beyond the stories we write and the enchanted tales we imagined ourselves into. I never felt like I belonged anywhere until you held me. I never thought I could bare my soul so honestly until you created a quantum rift in space and time and sheltered me in that backlit stretch of Aether and oblivion, somewhere I could just be…

There is an unending depth behind those beautiful eyes, there are solar flares and galaxies being birthed every second of every minute in the cool jade and molten gold of your gaze that I get to look into every day, forever now. You are an eternal well of some unknown, cosmically tidal force that spans and spirals beyond gravity, beyond dark matter, and every day I fall deeper and deeper into it—into you.

You’re my new moon, my cold wind and wood smoke through a snow-struck darkness stained by the prism light of the stars. You are the flash of nocturnal green lightning that brightens my sky, and you are opal tone of the horizon just before dawn…

Mostly, you are my safety. My best friend. My person. I live to hear your laughter and see your eyes ignite when you smile, and I promise you I will do whatever I can to fill our life together with as many reasons as possible just to insure your happiness, your joy, your bliss, and your well-being.

You are the entire nuclear core of my heart. I love you without end, until every last star blinks and fades into entropy, and nothingness itself comes undone.

Here’s to forever and a day, My Love.

Symbolism is such a crucial aspect to the human experience—to sink deeper into the human condition. Yet, we seem to profoundly lack symbolism in our literature and media today.

The love of the epic novel has fallen to the wayside and been exchanged for short, surface level stories ladened with shock value and drama over deeply entrenched plots drenched with mercurial tides of nuanced symbols and shadow-forms.

One the most potent facets to storytelling is the way it asks us to dive into the underworld of the collective unconscious, to meet the archetypes that dwell in its star-struck expanses, let them whisper to us in the language of mythos, bathe us in the waters of subtlety and metaphor, and send us back to reality steeped in wild-wonder.

This is an opinion derived from observation, but I do believe, as a society, we have lost not only our will, but our ability, to unearth archaic esoterica in our waking world. And of course, we’re not asked to. Most of our books and movies are remakes of remakes, unoriginal stories with little to no depth deeper than entertainment—which is truly okay—as long as we remember we’re more than just dopamine addicts craving the next scene of flashing lights and exploited sexuality.

Art; writing, cinema, music, etc. has always been a medium through which meaning and history is transposed. It’s been a conduit for enlightenment and universal understanding, riddled with clues to our own, cosmically-interconnected nature.

It scares me to see so much content that lacks introspection, metaphor, and intrinsic meaning, but is filled with sensationalized superficiality and explicit exploitation.

Don’t get me wrong. We all create what we love and what inspires us, but I must ask the question if we as humans are losing touch with the symbolism and mythos that underpins our society. We have gone wayward from the hero’s journey, stumbled off the seekers course and into the shallow waters of vapid consumerism.

Storytellers were once held in reverence for crafting syntactical architecture from the velvet shadows of lore and legend, archetypes and symbols, observation and exploration. We owe it to our craft to remember our roots.

"I watched it all: the world below me, the city I grew up in; Hurricane Valley, The City Center...Providence Heights. I love it. And, i hate it. It has made me, and it has broken me, and regardless, I will shatter it into nothing all the same..." -Avery Black, “Mosaic”
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Stay tuned for more!
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"Mosaics are a remembrance of Ilysia: the fallen Empire, the betrayer, the forsaken." Diviner Tallow settles his hands in the sleeves of his smock, "The Divine marked them before their birth. He cursed them with a cracked and hewn facade so they could wear their shame openly to the world. Their genetic lineage is tied to Ilysia, therefore, our savior cursed them--unclean and Unredeemable through each and every lifetime. They were born only as a reminder to the Alliance of the impurities that destroyed what was once the most beautiful paradise on earth. Impurities we must cleanse from our world..."
Mosaics: the namesake of my series...

But, who are they?

Mosaicism is a genetic anomaly that causes extreme discrepancies in melanin pigmentation in the human body. Mosaics were given the name due to their visage that represents that of broken fractions of different wholes pieced back together to form a singular image.

The first Mosaics were seen in the aftermath of the Ilysian Rebellion, when the most powerful Empire, the Authority’s favorite creation, disobeyed the Authority and sought to free the Citizens from their indentured lives.

The Authority, along with the aid of a mysterious plague, obliterated Ilysia, supposedly...

But, long generations after a resonating silence from Ilysia, something begin to happen...

Ilysian Specters, advanced tactical operatives, were spotted in Arcadia; several of them were captured. What the Authority discovered was shocking...

They were different...their skin and hair baring swaths of hyper-contrasted pigment, their eyes were like shattered glass, stained by extreme heterochromia in shades that were unknown to humanity until then...

The Authority wants Mosaics eradicated. Proof of the undying strength of Ilysia.

But, Mosaicism has worked its way into the Alliance's population and Elites will do anything to keep the mutation out of their lineage, going as far as infanticide against their own offspring.

There is something else, something deeper, something more mysterious about Mosaics. Something wrapped in the very coding of their DNA and the Authority will stop at nothing to insure the truth is never uncovered...

Should our darkness influence our writing?

Should we call our shadows forth, drag them from the abyss in our soul where we let them dwell, seething and shifting, and let them give depth to the ink we let hemorrhage and coalesce into full-tilt universes?

Should we call upon our experience to haunt our stories, to spill hallowed emotions into our arcing, luminous narratives?

I believe there is always personal truth in our work, whether it is the most distant far-future, galaxy-traversing sci-fi or the most radiantly magical fantasy. We let pieces of our soul drip into our creations, fractions of our spirit that bring a brilliant, refractory obscurity to our prose.

And this—this will forever be one of my favorite aspects of writing (and reading).

Our greatest shadow-work is done in the pages of our own stories, each time we press our fingers to our keyboards or scar cream-pulp with charcoal ink, we are weaving our soul like a silken fabric, into our words.

And, by granting ourselves this perspective, free of the trap of our analytical minds, we are able to catalyze our demons into mentors, let them speak to our strength and understanding, to our growth and vulnerability—and by doing so, we allow others to feel a little less alone, a little more seen and heard and felt…

When we draft our shadows into ink and paper and dim down the known realms of safety with a daring stretch of darkness, we grant others the courage and confidence to do the same.

We must stop fearing shaded truths and glorifying backlit lies. We must stop demanding that our fellow creators water themselves down for our fragile comfortability. We must stop silencing those who speak to more than just the shallow waters of topical superficiality.

There is power in our experiences, alchemy in our vulnerability, healing in our ability to share it with the world, hoping that it will pass that black-flamed lantern to another soul and grant them peace beneath boughs of their own darkness—gifting them bravery to journey along the path of their own shadow-realms so they may find the ice-light of the stars through all the oblivion-shades of midnight.
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Meet the Author
I noticed I have quite a few new followers so I thought I would take a second and introduce myself!

I am a sci-fi and speculative fiction author who dabbles in horror and high-tech fantasy. Much (basically all) of my writing has strong political, social, and anthropological tones to it.

I have a background in behavioral psychology and creative writing with a deep rooted passion for research into realms that I am certain has my google search history flagged by the CIA, NSA, and FBI. I mean, are you even doing your writing research correctly if you don't end up on at least one watchlist? (UFO's, Project Blue Book, ancient origins, metaphysics, MK Ultra, Gateway Process, etc.)

All of my work is derived from waking-observations of our living, breathing, deeply troubled and hopelessly beautiful world. My life has been highly nomadic, and many of my settings come from living in the martian desolation of the Nevada desert to the alpenglow of Sun Valley, Idaho, the tequila-stained horizon of the California coast to the unyielding Alaskan frontier.

I will warn you now: I don't believe in mincing words. I don't believe in playing small and biting our tongues when there is so much about our existence that needs to be called out, dissected, and investigated. I live by the mantra: our words are powerful, wield them wisely. I have an inability to remain apathetic, and will never be satisfied with canon narrative of life.

My main WIP is "Mosaic", an epic series rooted in a dark dystopian far-future where a social credit system and societal heirarchy keeps the "Elites" and "Citizens" divided by wealth and status.

"Mosaic" is gritty and raw. It holds a black mirror to our current society and asks us to face many constructs and institutions of our modern world or risk falling victim to the golden cage we mistake for freedom.

Outside of writing I am an avid meditator, baker, and coffee lover, currently in the PNW of the US. You will see plenty of pics of my dog Loki and hear me obsess over my absolutely amazing boyfriend Vincent Helices (He's an amazing writer, for real, go and follow him).

Cheers to all the new followers! Thank you for the support!

“You were born into a life you didn’t ask for. You’re one of the countless unwanted children of a culture that is hungry for lust and doesn’t care what fruits come from it’s misadventures.”
Creedus Nix circles the interrogation table, the directed illumination blindingly incandescent, and the Specialist is a mass of oblivion beyond it.

I say nothing.

“Your life is simply a lucky stroke of fate that led the James’ to take you in, raise you alongside childless Docket Holders, best friend with their son. But I wonder, Katelyn Black, does your own daughter know who you truly are? Who she is due to the consequence of her own mother’s birth?”

Nothing.

“No? Well, let me ask you one final question then.” Nix straightens his posture, touches his left ear with his left pointer finger, “What do you really want from this world that so easily tried to discard you?”

My vision finds the line of atmosphere where I can feel the cool pressure of the Specialist’s eyes on my own.

“To watch it shatter into nothing but ruination. And, if any part of it touches my daughter again, I will break them.”
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Katelyn Black.

Avery’s mother. Estate manager of the James Heirloom Estate. Citizen Docket Holder. Taken in by Edlund James’ parents as a newborn, she never knew her mother nor her father, but found a compassionate family in the James’.

Kate gave birth to two children while still living in her Docket Cottage at the Estate. Avery, the youngest, and her first born son, Ander.

But, Ander was born a “Mosaic”, a strange genetic variance that originated in the fallen Empire, Ilysia. Mosaics are hated by not just the Elites but Citizens alike, and the birth of Ander forced Kate to move from the Estate and to the Valley, for the safety of her child.

But, Kate is hiding truths from her children, like the identity of their father, a mysterious man who seemingly spirited into her life. She is also keeping secrets for Edlund James, both of them tied to the confidence of a truth more unbelievable than anyone could imagine.

A truth they would give their lives to protect. A truth that could change the future of the entire world.
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Stay tuned for more!

“I broke that day. I fell that day. Into a million and one pieces. It was no longer your substance that leaned its mass against the walls of the Garden, it was your shadow, and only your shadow. My heart is full of nothing but your ghost.” -Avery Black, “Mosaic” Series
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“Salvation” reviews are rolling in!

Thank you so, so very much to those of you who have supported my release of “Salvation”!

If not, you can follow the link in my bio and get yourself a copy of my debut novella, and leave a review!!!

Thank you all, so very much!
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“Your mother never wanted a child unless it was the perfect child.” Edlund clears his throat, leans forward in his chair, elbows on the surface of his desk. “I need you to understand this, Kellan. Ulyssa is more concerned with the DNA in your cells than the quality of your life.”

Next to me, Kellan swallows, shifts his position in his own seat.

“Ulyssa won’t have her bloodline spoiled, and you are the product of a perfectly paired Alignment between two supposedly perfect genetic donors. All Elite children are. But, Ulyssa has come to realize that her son possess something of far greater value than his genetics. Your mind is just another rare and desired treasure that Ulyssa St. Claire will seek to obtain.”
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Kellan James, secondary MC in “Mosaic”.

20 years old at the start of the story. Son of a power-Alignment between Arcadian Tribunal Administrators, Edlund James (Agriculture Industry) and Ulyssa St. Claire-James (Medical Industry).

Best friend to Avery Black.

Newest inductee in a top level research committee within the Medical Industry.

Kellan James’ mind is a universe of intrigue, invention, and intelligence. 2nd ranked Elite student on the Arcadian Chacellor’s Pinnacle List of Achievement.

But, Kellan is torn. Tied to the world of the Elites, set to inherit one of the Industries of his parents, trapped in an arranged Alignment to a woman he cannot bring himself to trust let alone love, all while defying every tradition to maintain his friendship with Avery.

A friendship he has began to see as something so much more. Because Kellan’s placement into the Medical Industry was always about more than just his intrinsic ability to comprehend the intricacies of the human body, but a dire hope to repair Avery’s incurable heart condition.

Time is running out. Kellan’s mother is watching every move he makes. The Porter family is waiting on his proposal to their daughter. Avery is graduating into an unknown fate. Kellan is set to leave for his medical training, and the walls of tradition, expectation, and a staggering gauntlet of circumstances that will ask him to decide where his loyalties lie, are closing in.

Stay tuned for more on “Mosaic”!
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“You have to know they’re watching you, Avery.” His Augmenter dips, his voice almost inaudible beneath the cry of the wind.

Through his Blur I can see nothing but the oblivion of his VoidOptics. Rain beading from his Hood, the ATI Captain’s dysmorphic camouflage powered down.

He reaches out, his left Glove retracting into its Caster and his bare fingers finding my wrist, violating every clandestine contract held by his position.

“Your voice echoes for thousands of miles. You may not understand that yet, but you have already changed the world. The Authority has eyes everywhere. It won’t let what you did—what you said—go without a response. You matter, Avery Black, more than you could ever understand. The Authority is coming for you…”
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Avery Black, the MC of “Mosaic”.

18 years old when the story starts, born premature to Katelyn Black, and a father she has never known, Avery is plagued by a dangerous heart condition.

But, it’s never tempered her spirit that yearns for a world free of The Authority’s noose, and she has never been able to silence her disgust for the living prison the Citizens exist within.

Failing in her dogmatic Redirection class and prime grievance to Diviner Tallow, a powerful religious figure, she risks slipping into an “Unredeemable” status, never to achieve placement into an Industry.

But there is further danger in her lifelong friendship with Kellan James—Elite son of an Arcadian Tribunal Administrator.

Avery’s life is plummeted further into chaos as a series of strange events finds her under the watchful eye of the mysterious Captain of the ATI, clandestine operatives contracted only to protect the most powerful Elites.

But, Avery can never bite her tongue, and her innate ability to shake the foundations of any space she occupies begins to draw attention, too much attention, and from sources she could never imagine.

Possessing green eyes—a trait believed to have been almost bred from the population millennia ago—Avery’s visage alone is hazardous, coveted by those who run dark commodity circuits of the Market.

Avery is in danger. And she cannot even begin to fathom the lengths the Authority will go to silence her.