Shay Mills
AUTHOR

Shay Mills

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Formerly (pen name) Author Shay Mills. No more hiding behind the facade. I am a Multi-Trauma Survivor, Mental Health Advocate, Father of 3, and Grandfather of 7. Life in Washington, a beautiful state in the Pacific Northwest, was a slow dance to the thump of Friday night football when I was a kid in the 70s & 80s. The scent of popcorn and burnt rubber hung thick in the air on game days, a prelude to the town shutting down as everyone crowded the bleachers. Fishing, hunting, skate boarding, biking, hiking, or any outdoor activity was a way of life. But my childhood melody was far from idyllic. We were poor, living on the thin strains of government assistance, a constant hum of worry beneath the surface. My mom, a single flower child developed a secret affair with pills due to an accident at temp work. Before the age of ten, I had single mother of two faces. She was loving one minute then in a screaming fit with objects being thrown out of anger. I had two older brothers that were five and six years older than I. They were too occupied with their lives and hated to babysit the little brother. It was a broke existence, but a simple life. Honestly, we didn't care. My grandfather's calloused hands (my only real father figure since my biological father left when I was two) spoke of years spent at the lumber mill, a symphony of saws and hammering echoing his work ethic. My grandmother was the love of my life. She was everything to me up to the day she died. My uncles, rough around the edges, were the truck drivers and machinists, their laughter a deep rumble. Then, around ten, a jarring chord ripped through the melody. A new man entered the scene, soon to become my stepfather, the predator. The house, once a haven of simplicity, morphed into a storm of abuse and addiction. My world expanded to include a troubled, pregnant teenage sister, a whirlwind of mayhem, secrets, and another monster, my abusive stepbrother. Every day became a frantic dodge, a desperate attempt to outrun the emotional and physical blows. But amidst the cacophony, there were three friends, a steady rhythm that kept me grounded. They were the harmony in the discord, the unwavering support that saw me through. "The Secret Life," my 1st novel, is a melody born from that dissonance. While fiction, the raw emotions and some events echo true. Now, as a writer known for weaving tales of horror, thriller, and coming-of-age journeys, I draw from the full spectrum of human experience. After a fulfilling 20 years in the military, I now translate my experiences, my wild imagination, my love of books and movies into eclectic tales. My hope is that you'll find them not just unique, but a captivating spin on the familiar threads of life or the fantasies of a mind that knows no fictional bounds. Be kind. Remember, respect is the universal language, transcending race, gender, beliefs, or any label. We're all part of the same human chorus. One step forward each day, my friend. The lessons I've learned is loss is inevitable, addictions don't vacate the premises but relapsing is a choice (love yourself even if that demon holds on), mental health is real, helping others and being selfless is food for your heart, and everyday you wake up surrounded by family, friends, and pets too, you are blessed. One love!
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