Hello! I’m a USA Today bestselling author, and a bit of a fantasy novel addict. I read them as much as I write them and I often pretend to be my characters. After all, life is infinitely more exciting with magic and dragons! One day, I hope to write a book so fantastical and magical that it creates a portal to another world. But beware, not all the books I write are filled with sunshine and happy endings. There are darker stories hiding within the depths of my mind, filled with mature content and twisted themes, so tread with caution. 

Excerpts: 

‘It’s hard when the people who should love you the most, the people who should put you above themselves, don’t. You’re left with this emptiness inside you that threatens to swallow you whole if you lower your guard and let someone in. So you keep up those walls, fortifying them with steel just to keep yourself from drowning before you’ve even had a chance to live the way you were supposed to. No longer are you capable of becoming that sweet and innocent girl you could have been. Now you’re a bitter woman who snarls at the thought of weakness.’

Blanchette Red – Bleeding Red

‘”Living in a tiny village is so suffocating, stifling, so to pass the time I’d read my books. They always made the adventures sound so liberating and great. So, I’d dream. I’d dream of a time where I could wander beyond the borders. I’d dream of a place far from home. I’d dream of a happiness I’d never find at home. I thought I’d see it all one day. I wanted to so badly. Then, I thought I could prove myself to the villagers and my family. If I just left home for two days and came back, everything would be so much better. The village would stop talking about Them. The village would stop talking of never leaving. I really thought I could change things, that I could change my life.”‘

Alanna – Fractured Past

‘My eyes flick toward the five burning candles set out on the dining table. The idiot never extinguished the flames before rutting me in the bedroom. He also never put away the wine. With a casual flick of my wrist, I pour the remaining alcohol all over the table, floor, and sofa.  The tablecloth sets alight as I knock a candle over. I snatch the remaining three candles and drop one on the sofa and another on the floor. Refusing to think about what I am about to do, I open the bedroom as quietly as possible before dropping the last candle on the bedding. The alpha jerks up with a start and I scramble for the door. ‘

Arden – Torn Apart