Inked on Paper

Jacob Wild

Once upon a time in the land of writer's block, I found myself searching for the elusive muse that had once been my reliable companion. My pen, now a mere prop, gets more use being twirled between my fingers than as a writing instrument. Now, unable to put anything on paper, I've resorted to hanging out at the local coffee shop, hoping the aroma of roasted beans will brew up some inspiration.

Enter Presley Abrams.

With hair the color of a brilliant sunset and tattoos that tell stori...