So unfortunately I won't be able to boost my posts with FB ads anymore.  Apparently I didn't understand how they worked when I started using them and they screwed me over and charged me once, then twice, then took the first one back , then caused an overdraft fee, then said "I'm sorry for your frustration, but you agreed when you clicked "OK"".  Like WTF.  You click "boost post", say ok let's do $5 and that's that.  Nowhere does it say there's a friggin' minimum "threshold" of $25 and we'll bill you at the end of the month and then screw your hole finances up in the dang process.  *Facepalm*  I'm still learning how to do this whole indie, self published, author thing and there's so much more to it than just putting your words down and clicking a few "I Agree's".

Sorry for my minor rant!  On another note, I've started another story.  Not sure if it's going to be a short story, turn into a novel, or if I'm going to submit it for a short story contest.  *ponders*

Titled: Out Of Ashes

Anyone interested in the tales of a Phoenix?

"Going In" Sneak Peek (Sequal to "Coming Out")

Prologue: Syd's Introduction

Hello fine reader, it's me, Syd! You may remember me from awhile back when I lead my fugitive group of friends awol across country after we broke out of the cleansing center my parents sent me to when I came out to them as Straight. Yes, I said straight. You can pick up your jaw and stop rubbing your eyeballs now.

Anyway, you may remember we made it to New York before all Hell broke loose. My boyfriend Brock and I got kidnapped by the head bitchtress of Straight Away's crazy brother, my best friend and ex girlfriend (who ended up falling for each other) ended up getting arrested, while attempting to locate us, by my long lost Aunt who actually turned out to be my biological mother, and I almost died of an infection caused from the wounds of too much shock therapy that bastard gave me trying to gay me back up. I still have nightmares about that whole mess. I can still see Annie, the bastard from hell's daughter, taking that bullet for us. I close my eyes and I replay her taking her last breath in my arms and my fury builds all over again. The bastard shot his own daughter! I can only hope Mr. Scappoli showed him a bit of his own medicine.

Oh, did I mention we had a run in with the mob? Mr Scappoli is one of the biggest crime bosses in New York. He stepped in and uh...took care of Rex. To this day we still don't know exactly what happened to him. Just that he can never bother anyone again.

How did we get mixed up with the mob you ask? That is a very good question. I mean I'm just a little straight girl from California who brought a few of my weirdo friends along with me. And by weirdo I mean, totally innocent of anything other than being homosexually challenged. Well, except for Lex, but being our friend, she's automatically thrown into “Warning, Warning, hetero alert!”, territory. And Harper is, well...she may be with Lex, but she's anything but normal.

“I heard that Volts!”

Anyway, off topic! We've been living the high life for the past eight years in France and we owe it all to one person. Layla. I met her at the straight club I stumbled upon when we first got to New York. Of course I had no idea she was a mob boss's daughter. Needless to say she sent Mr Scappoli and his crew to our rescue and in her we've found an invaluable friend.

I bet after all of that uproar with Rex you have been wondering what happened to Max and Straight Away. Well you see, there has been more acceptance over the years and a lot of cleansing centers have shut down, but not Straight Away. Oh no. After we escaped, Max was determined to redeem herself and make a name for her facility again. It wasn't long before “Bad Dog Training” was finally banned for being deemed 'cruel and unusual' punishment, but only after many more were scarred.

There was one person determined to take this place down. Well, besides me, but you can guarantee there was no way I was EVER going to step one foot anywhere in the same country as Straight Away again, let alone the same state! This person was Layla.

About a year after we were whisked away by her father, once Max's facility had started to take off again, Layla decided she'd had enough. Needless to say she is definitely a mobsters daughter. This is her story.

Chapter 1:

“Hey Layla, they're here again!” Mikey yelled out over the thumping base of the almost deafening music.

Slamming the glass I was drying a little too hard onto the bar I growled, “ What the hell are they expecting to accomplish by sending someone to “inspect” my damn club every other night?! I've already fixed all they're damn nonexistent issues!” Mikey shrugged, looking every bit his young seventeen years, even though he was built like a brick shit house. Funny to think just a year ago he was just a pimply, scrawny thing. “It's cool Mike. Not your deal.” I sighed, ducking under the bar. When I passed him I gave him a small smile. “Go grab Lou and tell him to meet me in the kitchen please.” He nodded and wondered off to find the older guy my father always had watching me since I was a kid. If something was gonna go down, Lou was gonna be there.

Making my way to the front of the club, I dodged and squeezed past all the sweating and gyrating bodies. This place was my pride and joy. I had owned UnKinked for five years now. I may have only been a whopping twenty-three, but dammit, I worked hard to have a fun and safe environment for the heteros of the world to come and just be without being judged or prosecuted.

Finally reaching the front entrance, I moved past Pete, the hulk of a man posted at the door. He was in charge of checking ID's and stamping the over twenty-one's. He was also in charge of keeping the queers out. I have absolutely nothing against them, don't get me wrong. A lot of my really good friends are gay. But as I had mentioned this is a safe place for the straights to come and be who they are without fear and letting the gays in would put a damper on that. Very rarely would I make an exception.

*****

About a year ago was one of those times I bent the rules. I had met a girl named Syd that caught my eye. She seemed troubled when she came into my club alone one night. I had immediately taken interest.

Turns out there was a lot more to Ms. Sydney Winters than met the eye. Along with her fugitive band of misfit hetero and gay hetero-lovers. Syd, Harper, Lex, and Brock are some of the coolest, strangest, most wonderful people you could ever meet.

When Syd and Brock got kidnapped right outside my club, I couldn't help but feel somehow responsible. My guys didn't catch the people who did it. I felt horrible. Harper let me know she held me accountable for a minute too, but Lex quickly diffused that situation.

I was frantic with the need to help, so when Lex called me later on and filled me in on what had happened, that they had found Syd and Brock but there was a madman after all of them, I knew it was time to get Daddy involved.

Oh, did I mention my Daddy is the biggest crime boss in New York? Syd may have mentioned it to you before. He is also straight. He was only too happy to step in and help when I told him what had happened and that I wanted to help my new friends. It didn't really take much for him to do anything I asked. Since my mom died, he was always willing to do whatever it took to make me happy. Hence my club.

Anyway, after he whisked them all off to France to make a new life away from the craziness, everything pretty much went back to normal. The cleansing center that asshat Rex ran shut down, but somehow about eight or nine months later it re-opened under new management under a new name: Straight Away. That's when everything at my club started going crazy.

A couple of months ago, a short, puffy man with huge, coke-bottle glasses showed up claiming to be the health inspector. Mikey had informed me that he was doing a drop in inspection due to an anonymous tip causing concern. My temper flared as I went to intercept the man before he could step through the doors to my kitchen.

I had to choke back a snort when I caught up with him. His eyeballs were magnified at least ten times their normal size by his oversized glasses. He had the very last few wisps of hair on his head fashioned in a very bad comb over “Excuse me, what's going on here?” I put my hand on the kitchen door, stopping his entry.

“Oh hello,” he startled back, having to look up to meet my

confused gaze. Which is saying something as I'm only five foot, four. “My name is Mr. Roland Meadows, and we received an anonymous tip of unsanitary happenings. I'm at liberty to do a full inspection of your facility.”

My eyebrow quirked, “Unsanitary happenings? No one is hocking lugeys in the burgers Mr. Meadows I can assure you.” I stepped in front of the kitchen door, denying him further access. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a club to run and no time to deal with this nonsense.” Pushing past him, I was not expecting him to grab my arm.

“Ms. Scap...”

Cutting him off, I grabbed the offending appendage that had a hold of me in a firm grasp and spun him around, slamming him against the wall next to the kitchen door. Lou was immediately at my side. “It's okay Lou, I got this.” He nodded silently, walking off a bit, but stayed within sight. I turned back to the little turd man in my grasp, “Big mistake putting your grubby, little hands on me Mr. Meadows.” He grunted and I could feel him shaking. “You obviously don't know who I am or you would be a lot smarter on how you handle this situation.” I smirked when he nodded. “Do your homework before you decide to come back. Do you understand?” He nodded frantically and it was then I noticed the scars he wore on his wrists and face.

I let him go and almost laughed as he tripped over himself in his haste to escape. “Pfft, little piss ant.”

Mikey came up to me after the creepazoid left asking, “What was that about boss lady?”

“Don't worry 'bout it kid. I took care of it. He won't be back if he knows what's good for him.” I smiled at him.

Shows me to be all confident and crap!

*****

Not a week later, Mr. comb over was back at my door, this time with back up. And by back up, I mean a massively butch, body builder, woman who was obviously over compensating for her short person syndrome.

He could barely look at me when he spoke, “Ms. Scappoli, we have received even more tips of unsanitary happenings. I'm afraid whether you approve or not I will be doing a thorough search of the premises.” I stood there in the door, my arms cross menacingly. “If you do not cooperate, we will be forced to shut your establishment down.”

My face grew hot with anger as I took a step toward him, but Butchy stepped between us, all five feet of her, blocking me. “Seriously?” I chuckled.

“Layla, let him do his thing,” Lou's calm voice came from behind me. “You got nothin' to hide and you know they won't find anything.” He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. Sighing, I moved to let them pass, “You disturb my guests or break anything, I'll break you. Capice?” His gigantic eyes grew even wider before he darted off with Butchy on his heels.

Growling, I pushed past Lou and Pete to get back to my bar. No more than fifteen minutes passed before I was summoned to the kitchen.

“You are seriously wearing out your unwelcome welcome comb over” I ground out through clenched teeth.

“Ms. Scappoli, I am just doing my job. And it seems we aren't here for naught.” He squinted at me, holding up his finger, showing me a raisin.

“I can assure you the raisins haven't been running amok singing “Heard It Through The Grape Vine.”” Lou chuckled behind me.

“This is not a raisin. It's a mouse pellet. We also found the banister to the upper level is unstable, and there are exposed wires in numerous places throughout the building. I also wouldn't be surprised if you were over maximum capacity. If I were to call the fire Marshall...”

“Now you listen here you little runt of a man,” my voice was low and menacing, my father definitely shining through. “We both know damn well that there was nothing out of place before you stepped foot here. If for one minute you think you are going to win whatever game it is you're playing...” I pointed my finger at him, determined to get my point across.

“I will be back in three days. This business is on probation until then. No food may be served until I give clearance.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I squeaked. “What about drinks?” I huffed, crossing my arms, trying to not strangle him.

“Nothing from the kitchen, the bar is fine. You also may not allow anyone in the upstairs until the banister is fixed. I'll inspect it when I return.” With that he ushered my staff out of the kitchen, then slapped a big red sign on the door that read, “Health inspection review in progress”, then made his way upstairs.

When I reached the top of the stairs he was holding a bull horn. From where he pulled that out of I have no idea, and honestly I don't want to know. He then proceeded to make me look like a cockroach.

“Excuse me! Everyone must immediately vacate the upstairs per the health department! Please take your festivities downstairs to the main floor.”

Most of the people upstairs were my regulars as this was a VIP lounge. Some of them were also “family” if ya know what I mean. A friend of mine since we were practically in diapers rushed over to me, looking at me with concern.

“Lay Lay, what the hell is going on?” Nicola whispered, as we watched the people file out downstairs.

“This is a load of bullshit is what this is,” I growled, grabbing her by her hand, dragging her away from listening ears. “Mr. Bug Eyes and his body guard Butchy over there, are from the health department and have put us on probation after finding numerous “issues”,” I explained, meanwhile, shooting eyeball daggers at the two ushering my patrons downstairs.

“You're kidding right? You're like, obsessive compulsive about this place. Well, about a lot of things actually.” I glared at her. “What? It's true!” She giggled.

“They found mouse poop!”

“Yeah right.” She rolled her eyes. “It was probably a damn raisin.”

“See! That's what I said.” Sighing, I ran a hand through my long, wavy, brown hair, wincing when it snagged a tangle. “UGH!”

“Calm down Lay Lay. We both know there's nothing wrong with this place. I'll stay after closing tonight and we'll figure this out.” She smiled at me reassuringly.

“Thanks Nic. I don't know what I'd do without you.” I leaned my head on her shoulder, feeling a bit better about the situation. Until Comb Over and Butchy made their way over to us.

“Ms. Scappoli, you and your friend must vacate the upstairs as well.” He gestured toward the stairs, and it took everything in me not to punch him. I knew I could easily take on Butchy, especially with Nicola.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, he roped off the stairs with caution tape. “I will return in three days. If these issues are not addressed properly, then your facility can and will be shut down until we see fit.” He turned to leave before shouting, “Good evening to you!”

Nic stopped me as I started off after him, “Lay, stop. Let's just do what they want and send them on their way.”

“They're lucky you're here or they would get up close and personal with the wrap of a Scappoli.”

“Alright Ms. Badass, let's get your baby all fixed up.”

*****

That night, Nicola, Lou, Pete, Mikey, and I set out to find all of the so called “issues”. There was not a mouse turd to be found! Unless you counted out back in the alley behind the dumpsters, which is probably where he found it. The only wires we could find were in the office around the computer, by the cash register, and up in the DJ booth. The banister was sturdy as a rock. It was well used and the wood was worn down in some places, but there was not a bolt out of place.

We stayed until the sun came up, cleaning the place from top to bottom, covering up any wires they would nit pick on, and sanded and refinished the banister. Also, anticipating any further issues, we changed all the batteries in the smoke detectors, checked the dates on the fire extinguishers (took pictures of them), and sent out notices to the employees requesting them to show their updated food handlers cards and liquor licenses on their next shift. I was leaving no stone unturned!

The club closes at three and it was eight when Nic and I stumbled into my apartment completely exhausted.

“Thanks for helping Nic. I'd like for them to find something now.” I huffed, collapsing on the couch.

“Not gonna happen.” She groaned, flopping down beside me, her long burgundy hair all over the place as she laid her head in my lap.

I laughed at her disheveled state. Moving her hair out of her face, I ran my hand through it sighing, “I still don't know why you just don't move in with me. You're here more than you are at your own place anyway.” The response I got was a soft snore. Rolling my eyes, I carefully slid out from under her, laid her head on a pillow, and covered her up. “Night Nic, sweet dreams.”

*****

Three days later, Bug Eyed, baldy showed up with Butchy in tow about an hour before the club was set to open. Nic and I was hanging out with our DJ, helping to pick out the set list for the night when Pete ushered them in.

“Good day Ms. Scappoli and friend. I trust you addressed the issues brought to your attention?”

Nic put her hand on my shoulder, silently telling me to stay calm. “I addressed your “concerns”.” I ground out through clenched teeth, making air quotes. “Go ahead and do your inspection.”

“How gracious of you to allow me access to your fine establishment.” He did a small bow and headed off toward the kitchen.

“Lay, no.” Nic warned, seeing me puff up.

“But Nic!” I whined, giving her my best puppy dog eyes.

“Cute, but no. Be good.” She grinned.

“Ass.” I grinned back at her.

“Bitch,” she rolled her eyes.

“You know it.”

About twenty minutes later, Comb Over and Butchy found us. “So, it looks like all issues have been corrected. You are no longer on probation.” He advised, signing a piece of paper and handing it to me. He looked almost disappointed.

“Don't look so sad, I'm sure you two can find someone else to harass.” I said, walking them to the door. “Now, don't come back now ya hear?” Before he could say anything, I shut the door in his face.

Chapter 2:

Which brings me to where we started, two weeks after the first fiasco had ended, after I pushed my way past Pete, I found myself face to face with the Fire Marshall. Behind him of course, stood a very smug looking Bug Eyes and Butchy.

“Are you the owner of this club?” The tall man with graying hair dressed in slacks and a white dress shirt asked.

“Yes, I'm Layla Scappoli.”

“Greg Pollock, Fire Marshall.” He extended his hand, which I took out of politeness. “You are well over capacity and your fire escape is defective. We're going to have to shut you down until further notice.”

“You're kidding right?” I balked at the man, all the while Bug Eyes had a huge smile on his face.

“I'm sorry ma'am, I don't kid. Either you get them out, or I will.”

I snapped, “You piece of shit! This is all your doing!” I snarled, lurching for him. Nic came out of nowhere, grabbing my arm, and stopped me just in time.

“Lay no!” She put her hands on my face, forcing me to look at her, “Let it go. We'll figure it out.” She gave me the look that said “now show them who we are”, and I simply nodded and headed into my club.

Reaching the DJ, I told him to cut the music and grabbed the microphone, “There was a round of boo's and groans that followed, so I decided to direct their focus, “Sorry guys, I know this has always been a place for you to come be yourselves and relax, but unfortunately because of some bullshit little man with a stick up his ass, we're being shutdown until further notice.”

There was an even louder chorus of boo's and protests to that. “Go ahead and feel free to thank the little, pudgy man with googly eyes on your way out!” And with that I watched as my very loyal, pissed off patrons and friends walked by and threw their drinks on the terrified little man as well as food. I even saw someone spit on him. One of the girls wrote “fucker” on his big, bald forehead. I thought Butchy was going to have a coronary because no one was taking her seriously.

Once everyone had left, Nic, Lou, and I were sitting up in the VIP lounge when they came bounding upstairs.

“You all need to vacate the building per order of the Fire Marshall.” Huffed Comb Over. I had to choke back a laugh. He was covered with food and dripping with alcohol.

“Anybody got a match?” I looked around hopefully, then looked down in shame when I met Nic's glare. “Was just a thought.”

Getting up, I made sure to put on the most menacing look I could muster (helps being the daughter of a mob boss), and stared down the little runt. “You have made a big mistake. When I find out what game it is you're playing, you will lose. Make no mistake about that.” I nodded to the scars on his wrists and temples, “Those scars will be nothing compared to what I do to you.” He was visibly shaking, and I wasn't sure if the wet spot on his pants was from the alcohol that had been thrown on him or if he'd pissed himself. I prefer to think it was the latter. I love thinking I invoke that much fear in a person.

“G...good day Ms. Scappoli.” Was his only reply before he scampered off. I smirked, heading back over to the couch, knowing he didn't do what I'm sure he'd set out to...kick us out.

“Nice Lay Lay.” Nic giggled. “If I didn't know what a softie you were, I might have been scared there for a minute.”

I gave her a glare then snuggled into her on the couch. Not a moment later, Pete came up with the Fire Marshall in tow. “Everyone, you will need to leave the building immediately. This establishment has been sited as unsafe.” He stood next to the stairs, waiting for us to move.

“You're kidding right?” Nic barked out.

“No Ma'am. As I told your girlfriend, I don't kid.” He replied flatly.

“She's not my girlfriend,” I corrected. “And this is my space. I understand asking my guests to leave, but I own the building.”

“You will receive paperwork in about fourteen days advising of proper procedures, but until then, no one is allowed on the premises.” I went to argue, but Nic grabbed my hand, pulling me to the stairs, the others following behind us.

“Leave it Layla, just let them think they won this round.” Lou spoke finally, adding his thoughts.

“GAH!!”

“Well, you've got two weeks of unexpected vacation. I think I have an idea of what you can do.” Nic grinned.

*****

The next day I found myself on a plane to France. It had been far too long since I'd visited Syd, Harper and everyone and I was looking forward to getting away from my reality for awhile.

When I finally made my way to the baggage claim, I squeaked when I was caught in a sneak attack hug from both sides.

“Oh my God you two!” I huffed out, laughing at my two friends. “Can't breathe!”

“You heard her Volts. Stop trying to kill her!” Harper playfully slapped at Syd.

“Watch it Highness, I know where you live.” She turned back to me, grinning from ear to ear. “Wow Layla, you look like shit, but still amazing.

“Gee thanks Syd.” Glaring at her, I found my duffel as it passed on the carousel and chucked it at her, laughing as she almost fell over.

“Good gravy! What the flying fart do you got in here woman?” Syd huffed, slinging the strap over her shoulder.

“A body,” I Shrugged. “You gonna help me hide it?”

“Ohh!” Harper perked up. “So my area of expertise!”

“You played cops and robbers for a whole day with mom Highness, that doesn't make you an expert.” Syd rolled her eyes as we headed out to their car.

“Oh yeah? Then how come I can hit my target almost every time huh? I'm an excellent shot!” Harper retorted, sticking her tongue out at Syd. The antics of these two I swear, always cracks me up!

“So anyway!” Syd redirected the conversation, “What brings you over the pond Lay? Not that I'm complaining.

“Oh you wouldn't believe me if I told you.” I grumbled from the back seat, once we loaded up.

“Try us.” They said at the same time.

“Lex is right, that's freaky.” They just smiled. “So UnKinked has been shut down until further notice by order of the Fire Marshall.

“WHAT?!” They did it again.

“Would you two stop that?” I glared.

“Sorry.” They replied.

I snorted, “I give up.” They smiled at each other, but stayed quiet waiting for me to continue as Harper drove on. “It's a long story.” I cautioned.

“It's about an hour drive.” Syd informed me. “We got time.”