A Quote Teaser For The Advent of Shadows

So, I have had the idea to do something like this for a while. I would love to do something like this with audio and voices, but I think that’ll come later down the line when and if I ever have a proper audiobook. Until that point, this is a little teaser for The Advent of Shadows, but unlike my previous teaser, which was an extract from the early part of the book, this time I have taken quotes from the book.

They are completely out of context and have no names attached and come from different parts of the book, so you can try and figure out who is saying what, to who, and why in your own mind. I picked some quotes I thought would capture some important elements of the book, but also, tease the tone that the story will be taking.

And… there might be a little more to some of them than that. Aaaand… there are no errors with any of the quotes. To fully understand them, well, I guess you’ll just have to wait until it’s out won’t you?

Just trust me when I say a lot happens in this story, so many surprises and I don’t really want to give away anything more than I already have. So, I think this will be the last tease I provide for a good while. 

No idea when I’ll next be posting on here, but in the meantime, I’ll be enjoying the lockdown in whatever way I can, and hopefully the next you hear of me, it’ll be during brighter days!


That’s all I’ve got to say, and I’m out.



“This is a sacrifice that must be made for the realization of Mother’s plan.”

“I am concerned she may be taking her Fate too much to heart.”

To me, your very existence was a curse… And yes, I hated you for it.”

“What reason do they have to keep on fighting against us?”

“You’re not so selfish. I know you wouldn’t forsake the whole world for one person.”

It is clear the Umbrisa-Kin have some greater goal. One that the Umbrisa left them with.”

I cannot deny things have taken a turn for the absoulte worst.”


“Do not succumb to the madness.”

As you can see, things have gone quite differently this time. Far beyond even my expectations.”

Sever the threads. Sever the threads. Sever the threads.”

Standing around in front of something like that for two-hundred years? Yeah, I’m alright on that one.”

“The Gods must have created it for some purpose! Where else could it have come from?!”

“Daybreak. That’s us. The light that breaks through the dark!”

“A lady and a Lenria dancing? Well, this is certainly one for the history books.”

“How…? How did I create such a monstrosity?”

Any Kin you come across are to be captured if possible and killed if necessary.”

Your makers… still asleep they all are. My makers… awake. Always. Always awake. 

This is the Fate you deserve.”

My Debut YA Fantasy Novel Is FINALLY Out!

…on Kindle!

As Valentines Day ends, I wanted to take a moment to celebrate my one true love…

…my debut fantasy novel.

This beautiful creation has been part of my life for 5 (almost 6 years) and now, finally, I have decided to let it go.

As of midnight, it will available for everyone in the world to read (you can still pre-order it for the last couple hours of today or just buy it tomorrow). I already know a lot of people don’t read books these days… I don’t blame you.

Who needs books when you got Netflix and video games? But, storytelling is a passion of mine, and books are just one of many ways I hope to tell stories.

So maybe Netflix and video games are in my future, but for now, this is what I have for you.

The Light Within Tears is the first entry in the Fateslayer Saga, a Fantasy series that I hope will be thought-provoking as well as entertaining for those who read it.

If you’re interested in books and Fantasy stories, then this may be for you. If not, mention it to someone who might be interested.

It is only available as an Ebook right now, but soon it will be available in paperback, and MAYBE someday in audio.

To those of you who do end up reading it, I hope you enjoy it. For those of you who ain’t really into books or audiobooks, who knows, maybe it’ll be on your screens one day.

Thank you for reading this wall of text. I greatly appreciate it.

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B083TCJMMB

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B083TCJMMB

A Lenria’s Tale – Prologue


I did not expect to be posting this, but here we are. If you recall, a while back I posted up the prologue to my main fantasy series (Fateslayer), and also provided a bit of a synopsis for the first book, ‘The Light Within Tears’.

Well, this is the prologue to a story which I intended to be the prequel to my main series. What’s interesting, is that this piece (and the following piece I will post) were both written back in July 2015, so I had recently turned 18 at the time.

I was reading it recently, and I thought: “You know what, this ain’t half bad. And I haven’t posted on my website in almost a year. I’ll throw this up on there. Why not?”

So, here it is.

Just for clarity’s sake, this story was to be told from the perspective of the first antagonist of my main series, so it’s probably worth mentioning there will be some level of spoilers most likely. Whilst I will not write this story for a little while from now, and it may well be in a different form to what I’m sharing here, I haven’t diverged much from my original idea of it all since 2015 till now. So, I have a feeling some of the content in here will carry over to the final version… whenever that comes out. 

I’ve mostly left it in its original condition, save for some typos and glaring grammar issues which I have tried to sort out. Other than that’s it’s pretty much untouched from back in 2015. 

I suppose if for some reason you want to compare this to my current writing, you should compare this to Lairé or any future piece I put up, as this was one of my strongest pieces back when I wrote it. 

I won’t say much more about it. Bear in mind it’s the opening to a prequel, so it’s written with a specific audience in mind for the most part. Also, I was just practicing writing something familiar to what I was writing at the time, yet different. It was intended to be an adult novel, whereas my main series is YA.

Honestly, These pieces were the result of me trying to imitate a well-known author’s style and voice. I’ll leave you to guess who.

Hope you enjoy it.


The sky roared.

The derelict room lit with each passing thunder, illuminating the stony surroundings. The spoiled stone was teeming with overgrown moss, green vines running through the gaps between each block of rock and seeping out onto the cold floor, their tips just about touching the thick pool of gory crimson.

Trailing from the pool was a single line that traced back to a single, gowned figure. Her long, black strands of hair covering her face. Her right hand pressed against her chest, feeling each and every tender throb of her gloomy heart.

A heart as black as the gown she was garbed in. A heart as black as the wild night sky. A heart as black as darkness.

She slouched against the wall, the thick moss prickling her neck. Her gleaming red eyes beheld her left hand. Nothing was in it, but yet everything was in it. The first symbol of success.

She leaned forward, eying her reflection in the crimson pond. She’d hoped to find a body in healthier form. This one was not the most suitable choice. Besides the obvious loss of blood, the fractured bones and inability to move were other, perhaps more mundane issues. It was too tall, too slender, and too… beautiful.

It was not her. And despite how inappropriate and unfitting of her it was, it was a sign that called for joy. A sign of triumph.

She giggled, hearing her new laughter. She spoke, testing words and phrases once accustomed to her old tongue, with this new one. Her voice was too high and too feminine. She sounded more like some courtesan than what she truly was.

What she truly was… what would become of that person? She was someone else now, someone far more astute. For the first time in her deplorable existence, she was the victor.

She struggled to her feet. A soring agony was lined through her upper leg, fading into her stomach. The bleeding had apparently ceased moments before she entered the body. She limped across the cold stone, grains of filth sticking onto her bare feet.

She was different now. She was a new woman with an era-old vengeance. But she was forever the shadow that curled in the mist of night.

She was Inah.


The twittering of birds sounded outside the closed windows of the inn. Inah lay in a bed she’d ‘borrowed’ for the night. She’d had no coins, no items to trade. None but one. The innkeeper was bold enough to notice and foolish enough to ask.

Of course, she’d accepted, promising herself to him for the night. In exchange for a warm bed, he could make it warmer. But the only warmth bestowed upon the bed that night was of his blood.

He still lay there, throat slit, milky white eyes wide open. It almost looked as though he was frozen in perpetual, horrified shock. A still image of terror. He’d been helpful at least, he’d helped Inah test out her new body.

Her new face and body granted her attention, and information, her elegant eyes tempting him into submission as he spewed stories about his daughter he’d sent away to live in Graydus, to protect her from the Empire. And many other stories, some of which should have been saved for the grave. The longer arms had been useful also, easing the effort needed to reach for her previously placed knife beneath the pillow.

As she inspected the small room, she began appreciating details, details her old self would not appreciate. The small portrait that hung on the wooden wall, or the condensed window panes, or even the precisely carved wooden door knob. Her mind was not completely her own, that much was apparent now. She’d fix that, that and her dreadful new voice.

But whatever this strange part of her mind was, it was fond of the place. It liked wooden walls, the architecture, and the smell of wetted grass that was swept in with the wind. It liked it all, for all its minor attractions and flaws. So for its sake, she’d keep it.


It had been roughly a year now since she’d usurped ownership of the inn. She’d walked in there twelve months ago, pleading for shelter over the counter with nothing but the blood-soaked robes on her back. Now she stood at, and ran, the counter, adorned in a fine, red velvet gown. Apparently, red was the colour to wear these days. The invading Emperor seemed adamant about that.

Roughly four months ago, a blindfolded figure draped almost entirely in red, wearing an excessively long hooded dress, had appeared in her room at the foot of her bed. She had known the figure, it was her old friend, Xiaa.

Xiaa was there now, just finishing showing out the last of the customers. It had been a busy night. Inah could still hear the deafening jeers of the drunkards. She was certain most of them had attempted to ask her for some ‘company’, but she gracefully declined.

The truth was, she’d kept the sheets clean for the past year, and bloodstains were awfully difficult to wash out by hand and cloth. There had already been enough prying inquiries regarding the change in management.

Inah had spun some tale – one of lies, of course – about how she’d been the innkeeper’s daughter, but he’d sent her away to live in Graydus. But after it was captured by the Empire, she fled with her husband to return here but lost him whilst on the unforgiving road. She always dissolved into tears at that point, weeping for the sympathy she all too well knew a gorgeous woman received. They’d become too concerned with pandering to her to continue when she gently asked if she could just ‘forget about it’.

Xiaa approached the counter, pulling out a stove and pouring herself a cup of wine.

“Careful,” Inah warned, “There’s not much left.”

Xiaa smirked at her. “Nope. You still sound like a nobleman’s daughter.”

“I can’t help it.” Inah attempted to sound colder, but her voice simply broke. “This maddening voice simply wants to remain this way.”

“It’s fitting of your new look.” Xiaa drank her wine, seemingly examining Inah’s chest. “Perfect, even. There’s no need to change it.”

Inah fastened her gown, folding her arms. “That’s easy for you to say.” She leaned forward, her face a hair’s breadth from Xiaa’s. “But I’m the one who has to live with it.”

Xiaa chuckled, careful not to spittle wine. “So, when are we going to begin?”

Inah pulled back from Xiaa, frowning at the specks of dust that spoilt the floor behind the counter. “Tomorrow.” She walked to the stairs, grabbing the broom that leaned against its wooden railing. “I’ve only waited this long to see if there were any significant drawbacks. Anything that would lead back to this body, or anything that could give us away. But apparently not. We’ve probably got another era before we begin to see any truly threatening signs.”

“And what of Morrigan and Lily?”

“They’ll likely work on fulfilling Celia’s dying wish: creating that damned Order of hers.” Inah began sweeping out the dirt from behind the counter.

“Is that jealousy I hear?” Xiaa teased, her ruby lips curving into a distinct grin on her dark-skinned face.

Inah stopped sweeping, glaring at Xiaa. “Jealousy?” she scoffed. “Jealousy for ultimately winning? I defied Fate itself. I disobeyed my own myth. There is no greater victory. If I was envious of anything, it’d be myself.” Inah continued sweeping the dirt towards the front door.

“Of course,” Xiaa agreed. “Though, I wonder what deceptions they’ll feed the children about you at the dinner table.”

A gust entered as Inah opened the door, brushing the specks of dust out. “They’ll say the worst of me, that’s certain. But I’m not so sure I dislike that. It will make my re-emergence that more terrifying.” She stood in the doorway, the gentle breeze swaying her long shadowy strands. “Although, I can’t help but feel as though I should be telling my own side.”

Xiaa turned back on the stool, confusion pressed into her regal face. “Own side? You mean as in telling your side of the story?”

“Yes,” Inah nodded. “Why? Is that such a bad idea?”

“Well… for what reason?”

“Well, it’s not for the same reason that stories of heroes and heroines are told. Or for the same reason why Celia Ambrosia will be seen in a blinding array of brilliance. Not for the reason it will inspire senseless children to be like me. But because it’s different. Because in my story, there is no hope for the protagonist. Because in my story, there is no light at the end of the tunnel. Because in my story, I win.”

Xiaa stood from the stool, raising her cup. “Very well, Lady Inah. So long as this part-time writing does not detract from our goals.” She downed the wine before placing it on the counter.

“It won’t.” And with that, Inah pulled the door shut.


Inah sat at one of the circular tables in the tavern, gazing at the passing clouds outside the window. She held a pen in hand, a stack of paper and a jar of ink placed on the table. She would truly write out her own side of the story.

And why not? She would have two hundred years – an era – to do it. She couldn’t be out doing her all to fight against fate the entire time. No, she would write her side of the story.

Though what she planned to do with it she hadn’t fully thought out. She could always attempt to publish it, though she guessed the process would be long and tedious, and beyond her tolerance. Perhaps she’d simply leave it in a drawer somewhere, never to be seen by the light of day… until one day when it was uncovered by an ambitious scribe, swearing to discover the truth.

That aside, where would she begin? From when she was a child? From when she first met Celia, or perhaps Morrigan, or Lily? Maybe she should start just before the battle with Celia, keep the story short.


No, this was a tale of darkness. A tale of how things that begin in darkness always end in darkness.

And so that was where she would start, at the same place her darkness did.

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The Aspiring Goddess


I cannot tell you anything about this short story, except this: it’s related to my flagship series. Perhaps one day you’ll appreciate it in a new way, perhaps not. Either way, you should be able to appreciate it on it’s own.

“If I were a Goddess,” Child One begins, “I would make everyone think like me.”

Child Two laughs at this. “Like you?” she teases. “That would be boring. Nobody would ever smile.” Her legs dangle off the edge of the cliff, she swings them back and forth and pays no mind to the waves that come crashing beneath them.

Child One never smiles because there is nothing to smile at. Smiling is illogical. “That is why I must become a Goddess,” she says. “Because people allow senseless things like boredom to get in the way of what you all claim to desire.”

“And what do we claim to desire then?” Child Two challenges.

Child One spares no second with her response. “World peace. You all say you want it, but you are not willing to give up the only thing that stops you from getting it. Illogical.”

Child Two stops swinging her legs, cocks her head, and frowns. “We should give up all our emotions if we want peace?” She shakes her head. “That does not make sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Child One says speedily. “You, like all others, are too emotional, too illogical, too human, to understand. You think loving someone to the point of wanting to sacrifice yourself is logical? You think hating someone based on ignorance, rather than personal experience, is logical?”

“Hold on,” Child Two makes a forestalling gesture. “Who said ignorance is logical?”

“You all live it,” Child One says unfeelingly. “Maybe you have not yet. But the moment your family is in danger, the moment you are in danger, you will cease to care for anything or anybody beyond your inner circle… if even them. Your emotions will take control, and even if others can help you, even if the situation is not as dire as you believe, you will not care. You will shut all others out, just because of your fear. Fear bred from ignorance.”

The children sit in silence as time turns for many moments. Child One inspects the sky. A veil of red-velvet was beginning to be laid overhead by the Goddess’ hands. Child One knew that would soon be her hands, and soon, she would determine the colour of the sky.

Finally, Child Two spoke again. “How will we ever appreciate a peaceful world without emotions like happiness and joy? And how do you even plan on becoming a Goddess anyway?”

Child One looked out over the sunset-struck sea. “You do not need to appreciate peace,” she began. “You need only live it. To your second question: I will kill Her. I will kill the Goddess, and take everything from her.”

Child Two laughs again.

“What?” Child One asks.

“Didn’t you notice?” Child Two’s smirk becomes a grin. “You’re smiling.”

Child One feels her face, feeling the curve of her lips, the curve that forms smiles. “Yes,” she says, feeling no cheer or surprise. “I am.”

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Listen To Me Pitching To Literary Agents!

After all those weeks of promising and delays, it’s finally done. I swear, writing captions for your video is a damn chore, especially when it’s difficult to sometimes hear what’s being said and there’s a lot of false starts and stuttering.

I realise that I kind of discussed different aspects of the story that I wanted feedback on, with each of the agents. So, it’s not a rehearsed pitch being said three times. I wouldn’t say this is the ideal way of pitching, but honestly, it wasn’t in the most ideal of conditions. My ideal condition would just be more time.


I’m sure this goes for most people. But, trying to explain a story that is as complex as mine is really difficult. One of the most rewarding aspects of this however, was that I can always listen back to it and hear where I was messing up. The parts that make me cringe, are the same parts that I need to pay the closest attention to, so that in the future, I can present them in a more polished manner (or not at all).

Were the agents people that I would give my book to? No, because they don’t handle my genre. I knew that. That’s also a reason why I was happy to go. Initially it annoyed me, but I realised the advantage in it. I could practise my pitching in an arena where there was no real losing.
I already knew no deal could arise from this, so I went in only expecting to learn how well my pitching skills were (by having this audio) and also learning how professionals within the industry would respond to it.
At the end of it all, I’m glad to have had the chance to do this and for FREE at that. It was a good experience.
I think my intro at the start says enough about the video, so I won’t say much else.
If you have any questions feel free to ask them!


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Setting Goals & Timeframes

The ninth episode of my podcast it out!

In it, I explain how understanding yourself, what goals you have
and the timeframes you have to reach them, can be the determining factor in whether or not you manage to finish your projects.

One thing I forgot to mention, is that if you don’t meet your timeframes, that’s okay. You don’t have to cry about it, you can just set a new one, and aspire to meet that one instead. Hopefully, the original timeframe allowed you to get a decent amount of work done though.

If this sounds interesting, then you should listen to the full episode!


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Emotive Writing/The Rule of Cool

Emotion is important, perhaps even more important than logic. In this episode, I delve into how emotion in your writing is an understated aspect of what creates memorable stories.

What I realised by the end of this episode, is that this topic is larger for me than I initially realised. I never got to speak about how much connection factors into emotion, but I believe the ‘Rule of Cool’ was handled rather well. But I’d love to really talk about just exactly how significant I believe emotive writing to be.

Perhaps I’ll do another part to this episode, and revisit it at a later date. I just want you to be aware that this episode doesn’t contain everything I have to say about the topic.

Hopefully it is still helpful for you despite all that.


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The Light Within Tears – Prologue

A/N: This is the prologue to the novel I’ve been working on. The revision for the full story will be done soon, and then it will be in BETA, meaning anyone that wants to read it, can. It’s a short thing, as I believe the best prologues often are. I will post again to remind everyone when the book is available for beta readers. Until then, enjoy this.

Please let me know what you think of it through whatever channels you wish.

And yes, I’m aware I’ve not been posting for two weeks. But don’t worry, there’s a lot of content on the way!


The Start of The End

“We never foresaw this. We never meant for this to happen. Especially not her. Of all people… especially not her.”

~ Unknown

“This is not your story,” the talking book says to me.

I look at the golden face embossed into its leathery-black cover. Its mouth remains nothing more than a thin line as it speaks.

“I know that,” I say sharply. “But I want to know what happened.”

I’m sitting in a field of brown within a place ruled by darkness. Dark creatures roam the land, some are as small as me, others are much, much larger. Big or small, they don’t bother me. There are thousands of these creatures, but there are no people. All the towns and cities I’ve seen are empty, dirty, dark, broken.

I frown as I glare down at the book. It’s laying on the earthy ground, somehow watching me with its ever-closed eyes.

“You know everything,” I tell it. It likes being flattered, being told how smart it is. “You say you know everything about the past. So, tell me then. Tell me about the past.”

“Indeed, I do know of the past,” the book proudly affirms in its matronly voice. I stifle a smirk; I know the thing too well. “And it is your right to know, Mistress. But to know how the present came to be, I must tell you about the journey of the ones instrumental in its creation. The False Herald, The Misguided Prodigy, and The Aspiring Goddess. I shall tell you the story in three installments, each a year apart.”

“What?” I exclaim. “Why do I have to wait three years to know? I’ll be fifteen by the time I’ve heard the whole story! What’s the point in that?”

“There are some things, Mistress, some stories, that must be experienced in their entirety. Sometimes, that means more than simply knowing the story itself. Sometimes, we must take time out to consider, to understand, to wonder.”

“And…” I narrow my eyes at the damned tome. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because whilst this is not your story, it is one you ought to know, one you deserve to know, and if you dare to venture into the world beyond the darkness, then it is one you must know.”

“Then tell me it all now!” I demand. “Tell me so I can get out of this cursed place!”

“No, Mistress.”


“No. There are many things you may demand of me, but assisting in your death is not one of them. This world hates you. The force that governs it hates you. To face it appropriately you must first be prepared. I shall inform you of the power of your adversaries and teach you about your own. I shall instruct you on how to use me, and when to use me. I shall tell you the story of the past so you may understand the present, and know how to confront the future. And then, and only then, shall you be ready.”

I consider the book’s words. They sound clever and wise, but this blasted book always sounds clever and wise. “And it will take three years?”


“Fine,” I sigh. “It’s not like I’ve got much better things to do.”

“I must forewarn you, Mistress,” the book says solemnly. “This is a story of tragedy. Indeed, there will be light and joy. Indeed, you may grow attached to these people and their stories. Indeed, you may yearn to return to such times when the sky was a calm blue. But remember, Mistress, this story’s end has been set, and you now live the aftermath of it.”

“I know,” I say, suddenly afraid. Why am I afraid? Like the book says, I know the ending. But then I realise that I don’t. I don’t know the ending, I just know what the world looks like after it. I don’t know why the sky is red, why it screams thunder and spits acid. Or why there are dark creatures everywhere and abandoned cities. But the book tells me I cannot leave here until I do know. I want to see the world outside of this darkness. If knowing this can grant me that, then I am willing to know it all, however long it must take.

So, to the book I say, “Tell me.”

And to me, the book says, “Very well, Mistress. I shall tell you the first story, the story of the light within tears. It begins as many stories do, with a chosen youth with a grand, undeniable Fate. And this youth is a girl of white hair and blue eyes.”

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I have been waiting a while to talk about this! Finally, in episode 7 of the From Zero Podcast, I do. I suppose, in the context of my YouTube channel and content, it’s not been that long. But for me personally, I have wanted to talk about this for quite some time.

Science-fantasy is a genre I have a lot of passion and love for. It’s stupidly underappreciated, and I have abolsutely no idea why. People don’t make stories in science-fantasy settings very often, and I find it mind-boggling.

In this episode, I give my own definition of science-fantasy, as I understand it, and how I feel such a setting can be best created.

If you know of any science-fantasy stories, be sure to recommend them to me. BUT, listen to the whole podcast before you do. You may find my idea of science-fantasy is not exactly the same as yours.


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Realism in Fantasy Stories

The podcast originally released as normal, but the accompanying blog post somehow… was not.

For whatever reason, this post was published with no text whatsoever. Even though I’m very sure I spent about 10 minutes typing the whole bloody thing out!


Basically, this is the sixth episode of my podcast. I wanted to discuss the matter of ‘realism’ in fantasy stories. I feel like sometimes we get ‘too caught up in the fantasy’ and essentially put some of the realistic elements on the back-burner.

I talk in the video about why this can sometimes happen, why it’s a bit of a problem, and how to resolve it.

Take a listen!

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