“How to Build a Private Cadence Without Accidentally Inventing a Sex Spell”
By Dixie Bell, Professional Familiar, Licensed Anti?Nonsense Specialist
- Do not touch faces. You are building a rhythm, not a romance novel. Touch wrists, forearms, knees. If your hands drift higher, I will push a beaker off the shelf.
- Keep the beats ugly. Pretty gets stolen. Ugly confuses thieves. Your private cadence should sound like two boots on dangerous stairs, not a music box.
- Avoid names. No voiceless locus. No whispered confessions. If you absolutely must say something, use words the void hates: laundry, taxes, colonoscopy.
- Add a mundane anchor. Gearshift. Grocery list. The smell of copper pennies. The last three digits of a phone number you can’t forget. Door gods hate the boring stuff.
- Cats are metronomes. Yes, I purr on purpose. Yes, it’s a tool. Yes, I’m charging you for this.
- If the room leans in, make it sign an NDA. Rooms talk. Wards gossip. Keep the cadence short and don’t write it in pretty chalk. Smudge it, you neat freaks.
- Test under supervision. Vance = good. Bellamy = fine. Grimm = try not to bite him (I will if necessary).
- No ritual bonding. I cannot believe I have to say this. If you both start glowing and sighing, I will get the spray bottle.
- If He pushes— three beats, ugly, human, together. Then you call me, because I scratch harder than you cast.
Signed, Dixie Bell, who is right, and who will be even righter when you ignore item #8 and I have to scold you gently with violence.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.