Sorcerers and Saints Update

Just a super quick update!

S&S has gone off to my writing partners for a round of critiques before it’s going to the editor. I wanted to thank everyone who is messaging me at the moment, and who is excited about the book. It really is a labor of love, and I’m excited to see what you all think about it.

For those who want it, I have put a pre-order up here on Amazon. For all my KU readers, don’t worry, it will be in KU once it goes live.


Ames x

Chapter One – Sneak Peek!

As promised, here is Chapter One of ‘Sorcerers and Saints’ so you can get the vibes of this little passion project of mine. I love fairytale feeling stories, so this one has been so much fun and a real challenge to write.It has been run through Grammarly, but you’ll just have to forgive any typos that have slipped through as it is a draft.

To answer a few of your questions; I don’t have a date for a pre-order as yet, but it will be soon. I have a thing that I need to have a decent draft together before I’m brave enough to put one up. It will also be in Kindle Unlimited like my ‘Tarot Kings’ and at this stage, there are no plans for paperbacks.




The Breaking

This is a story of a sorcerer, a saint and a city and it began exactly one hundred and thirty years ago. 

By all accounts Melbourne in the 1890’s was a strange place to be; flowers bloomed out of season, avenues of trees sprang to life overnight, there was a heatwave that nearly killed everyone, and a gold rush that turned the poorest to millionaires overnight.

Those who were there said the city exploded into a nexus of magic, drawing to it the strange and wonderful, miraculous and terrifying.

The strangeness has never stopped; knights protect travelers from fairies, sin eaters walk the halls of cancer wards, spirits of suicides haunt the train lines, leaves gather wishes, and demons, priests, gods, alchemists and ravens watch mankind.

Rumors abound how it all happened, theories from a ley line explosion to the innocent blood spilt by violent hands. 

The only detail that everyone can agree on is that the Sorcerer of Albert Street is to blame for magic breaking.

And that it would take a miracle to fix it. 

Chapter One

“To taste lightning in the air means to expect danger, change and sorcerers.” – Sayings of the Blessed Crow.  

 Mara Corvo’s teashop was one such anomaly that found itself in Melbourne. It wasn’t like regular tea shops with pretty pastel walls, cakes like jewels, and other feminine charms.

This tea shop was more like an apothecary or alchemist lab. The shop walls were crammed with books and tiny jars of tea leaves. A wooden counter and bar stretched in a square U in front of the shelves so wherever a customer sat, Mara could reach them, and her carefully labeled supplies. 

A large bay of windows at the front of the store let light in, a few armchairs with carved arms sat in front of them for those needing comfort and were partially hidden by the small succulents and plants in the window sill.

The rest of the store was lit by mismatched lamps and candles and was perpetually filled with warm light. One door led to the back of the store and the apartment upstairs, but no one outside the Corvo family could have told you what they looked like. 

The tea shop was never in the same place twice, but it was always there when you needed it. Only the broken-hearted could find it because while generations of Corvo women had dealt in desires of all kinds, Mara dealt in grief. The removal of heartache was a painful and delicate process, but it was the only miracle Mara could perform. She was so good at it that she had never served the same customer twice.

Her red and gold painted door would appear in an ally way or graffitied side street, and she would send out a message to the universe, inviting anyone requiring help to come in. 

The teashop would appear aesthetically differently to everyone, much like Mara did herself.

The broken-hearted would arrive like wasps, sharp-edged and ready to attack, or like rain-soaked moths, grey and forlorn. All were confused in the beginning, wondering why they suddenly found themselves in the strange tea shop.

Mara would always greet them warmly, her hands selecting the perfect cup and saucer as she would ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”

They always did.

As their confessions poured out of them, Mara would move about the shelves, taking down ingredients to pinch, drip, or stir into her teapot. Each infusion was different, even if the griefs were similar.

Mara knew every flavor of grief there was, and she had cataloged them in her mind like a fine collector.

As the tea brewed, the customer’s pain was lanced like an abscess in their soul. Mara would pour the tea, and they would drink, sometimes a cup, sometimes the whole pot, depending on the depth and age of their pain. By the time they finished, their grief would be gone. 

They’d leave what they had on the bar, coins, letters, wedding rings, string, or a photo of their dead child, and would step out of the red door and onto the street.

Mara always watched the moment they had taken three steps, and then the memory of the store and the mysterious tea maker would disappear, leaving only the sensation that they could feel themselves finally healing and holding a tentative hope for the future.  

In Mara’s opinion, this loss of the memory of her was a blessing because, like all the saints in the Corvo bloodline, Mara was cursed.


The day began, as if often did, with nightmares. Mara’s head was pounding, and there was a curl of smoky dread twisted around the base of her spine, warning her that danger was coming.  

“I’m bored,” Athanasius declared with a long stretch of his back.

“Maybe you can make yourself useful and catch some bugs,” Mara suggested without looking up from her book. As a response, he moved the angle of his stretch to point his cat butt at her. “Is that really necessary? Don’t you have better things to do like go and lick yourself?”

“Your wit is acerbic this morning. What’s the matter? Have a sex dream that left you unfulfilled?”

“Beast,” she hissed.

Mara had dreams alright, but they weren’t of the sexy variety. They were of the last time she’d seen her mother Sophia alive, spitting out rules and prejudices like venom right up until she died from the curse eating through her.

Mara hadn’t dreamt of that night for seven years; it felt like an omen. She hated an omen before breakfast. She drained her earl grey and flipped her cup, letting Fate move the pulpy mass of her remaining tea leaves. With a deep sigh, she flipped the cup back over. Before she could look, a black and grey cat stuck its head in the way.

“That can’t be right?” he said. Mara pushed him out of the way with her free hand, shoving him along the smooth polish of the bar. Her body stilled as she took in the contents of the cup.

“That’s not possible.”

Athanasius slinked back over, tail straight and alert. “My leaf scrying was never that great, and even I can see the shit storm brewing in that cup.”

“It’s probably a customer that’s involved, not me,” Mara said weakly.

“Uh-huh, and you call me a liar.”

“You are a liar.” Mara rubbed her temples against the migraine that was already threatening her.

“Perhaps, but I can taste the lightning in the air.” Athanasius licked his paw nonchalantly. “Close the shop for the day.”

Mara scowled at him. “You know I can’t, not if someone is in this much pain.”

“And you’re going to borrow it? You come in after everything goes to shit, not before. You can’t do anything.”

Athanasius jumped off the bar, sauntered over to the plush antique velvet armchair next to the windows, and curled into a ball. “Trust me, cioară, there are only two reasons why anyone would tip that lump of leaves or taste lightning in the air, and you don’t want to be caught up with either of them.”

Mara ignored him as she often did and went to turn the open sign on the shop door. The shelves rattled as the call went out across the city, whispering to the ones that couldn’t handle the pain any longer.

“You’re a good girl, Mara, but time will tell if that was either very brave or very stupid. Pray to Saint Anea that your good intentions don’t backfire,” yawned Athanasius.

Mara wanted to tell him to shut up again. Instead, she went behind the bar, through a small wooden door, and into the shrine to light a candle at the Saint’s bare feet.

“If I can help, I will. That’s what we are meant to do, right?” Mara demanded. The Saint didn’t reply. Mara didn’t expect her to. If it wasn’t for the danger sitting on her spine, she wouldn’t have prayed to Saint Anea at all.

Despite the lack of prayers, Mara’s life had always been plagued with miracles, like all the women in her family. They were the descendants of Saint Anea, The Crow Saint, and the miracles seemed to want to stick around long after the Romans had done killing her. That was one story anyway.  

When Mara was a child, and she’d ask about the Saint, her mother Sophia, grandmother, and two aunts all told her something different; Anea was from Egypt before the Hebrew slaves had been set free; no, she was Greek and foretold the fall of Athens, no, she was Eastern European and had made the God of Winter fall in love with her. 

Mara had boiled all the stories down to this; the Saint was her ancestor of unknown origin and religion who performed miracles and passed her gifts down to the daughters she birthed. Powerful men grew afraid of Anea’s influence and began to hunt her family, so now the Corvo family was forced to wander, performing miracles and getting out of town before anyone could reach for their torches or pitchforks. 

Mara’s ancestors had gotten more creative over the years when it came to altering the memories of the people they encountered until one took it too far, and now no one could remember them at all.

The women had carried the statue of Saint Anea with them wherever they traveled. They didn’t know what wood had been used to render her likeness because it had turned black from the grease of hundreds of hands touching it and the constant smoke of candles and incense. The statue was the only consistent thing in Mara’s long life. Clothes, houses, books, horses, possessions, cousins, and names changed, but where she went, Saint Anea followed.

Mara knew the carved eyes watched her ancestors and their lives, but that didn’t mean Anea watched over them. The carved crows that sat on her shoulders were equally attentive as they observed the Corvo’s collect curses as quickly as they dispensed miracles.  

Mara felt like it was a bad idea, but she still lit a stick of incense and stepped back into the shop.

The morning passed uneventfully with a grieving widow and a man with a foot complex, and Mara was beginning to think the lack of sleep had made her worry over the tea leaves unnecessarily. She had put on another pot of water on the small gas cooker behind the bar when the door rattled, and a drunk man stumbled through, bringing the taste of lightning in with the wind.

Not a man…a sorcerer.

And the nightmare about her mother shouting rules as she died suddenly made sense.

Sophia Melina Corvo had many, many rules but only two that really mattered; never fall in love and stay the fuck away from sorcerers.

The sorcerer didn’t seem to notice her at first as he stood in the doorway, long overcoat and scarf tangled by the weather. He ran a hand through his dark, rain-wet hair, shaking water drops onto her wooden floors.

“Glass of scotch, darling,” he said, with a slurred British accent. He sat unsteadily on a tall stool and rested his elbows on the polished counter.

“We are a tea shop, not a bar,” Mara replied, too shocked by his presence to respond politely. 

The sorcerer looked around, squinting at the shelves, his hands reaching for a teaspoon that he flicked between his fingers. 

Mara looked at Athanasius, whose back was arching and fur spiking as he studied the newcomer. The sorcerer didn’t notice, just waited patiently.

Mara had made a vow to help those grieving, even if that person was a good-for-nothing sorcerer. With some reluctance, she opened a cupboard, pulled out a bottle of scotch, and filled a teacup with it before setting it down in front of him. Instead, he studied the tiny handle before wrapping his long fingers around the rim.

“Scotch in a teacup? So Melbourne.” He shook his head and drained the cup.

“As I said, this is a tea shop, sir,” Mara said firmly.  

“Then why are you serving scotch?”

“Because you asked me for a cup.”

“I did?” His grey-green eyes focused on her and widened slightly. “I think I’m in the wrong place.”

“On that, we can agree.” Mara folded her arms, wondering how she could get him to leave with minimal fuss.

“Maybe you’re right, and I should have a cup of tea instead.” The sorcerer passed her back the empty cup. “Something that will help a hangover. It’s going to be a beauty. Is…is your hair naturally that color?”

Mara almost dropped the cup. “I beg your pardon?”  

“You got Nordic blood or something? I’ve never seen hair so fair on someone with such black eyes.” He gave her a friendly smile, and she turned away, quickly picking up an empty pot, her hands reaching for leaves.

Everyone who came into the store saw Mara differently; some wanted to talk to a grandmother figure, so that is what they saw, some wanted their dead wife, so that is what they saw. No one outside the Corvo family had even seen Mara’s true face.

No one, except for a drunk sorcerer.

“According to my mother, my father was a shaman living with the Sami, but I can’t confirm that. She moved around a lot,” Mara said, and then wondered why she had answered him at all. She didn’t look at what she was putting into the pot, hoping that after a cup, he’d leave on his own accord and she would never see him again.

“Hey, kitty.” The sorcerer coaxed at Athanasius, who now sat at the end of the bar, watching him with cold yellow eyes. “Want a pat?”

“Want me to bite your fingers off?” Athanasius replied.

“Oh, come now, there’s no need for hostility. Every kitty likes a pat,” the sorcerer said, unperturbed that the cat had just spoken to him in a thick Romanian accent.

Mara poured water over the leaves in the pot and stilled at the aroma that rose up to meet her. It smelt of cedar smoke, bergamot, darkness, and forbidden things. She poured it into his scotch-tainted teacup and set it in front of him.

“What’s in it?” he asked.

“Does it matter?”

The sorcerer scratched at his stubbled jawline. “Suppose not. I’d drink anything to stop a hangover.” He took a sip, and the smile on his face slipped. 

Mara had never made tea for a customer that hadn’t first told her their grief. She’d never made tea for a sorcerer. Both felt like she was breaking a terrible taboo.

The sorcerer was watching her carefully, the clarity coming back into his eyes. Whatever she’d put in the tea seemed to be sobering him up in a hurry.

“Jesus Christ, you’re her, aren’t you?” He looked at his surroundings again, to the cat and the woman. “I mean, I heard whispers of you, but I thought it was rumor because I haven’t met you once in the last eighty years.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mara said coldly.

The sorcerer snapped his fingers, trying to find the words. “Crows. No. Wrong. Corvo. You’re saints or some such.”

Mara was saved from replying as the sorcerer looked into his empty cup. He swore softly as his eyes rolled backward, and he passed out over the counter.

“Did you kill him?” Athanasius padded over to the sorcerer and poked him experimentally with a paw. “No, still breathing. Pity. What are we going to do with him?” Mara’s common sense was finally catching up with her racing heart.

“We send him home and take comfort in the fact he won’t remember a thing.”

The taxi driver didn’t comment as he helped Mara carry the unconscious sorcerer out of the shop and place him in the car’s back seat.

“Where am I taking him?” the driver asked. She pressed a hundred dollars into his hand.

“Albert Street, across from Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, he should be awake by then,” Mara replied and shut the door. 

There was only one sorcerer she knew of in Melbourne that crackled with that much magic, and she had been warned to stay away from his neighborhood since she arrived in Australia in 1933.

Mara watched the taxi until it disappeared out of the laneway, then she locked the shop door, and for the first time in her life, she thanked the Saint for her curse that meant he wouldn’t remember her at all.


New Book Announcement!

It’s finally happening! I am finishing off ‘Sorcerers and Saints’ a standalone, based here in my beautiful city of Melbourne. For those that are new around here, I have been trying to write and finish this book for about seven years now. I wrote half of it right before the pandemic hit in 2020, and after that the world imploded, I started on the Firebird Faerietales rewrites and edits and this book got shelved again indefinitely.

Over Christmas I finished off round two of my structural edits, and I was really in need of something a bit lighter to work on, and I’ve picked up ‘Sorcerers and Saints’ again. Maybe it’s all about timing because I’m feeling really good about the story and how it’s coming together.

But what about ‘Tarot Kings’? Never fear. ‘Tarot Kings’ is happening this year as well. Even though I will have another two books to edit for 2023 releases, I won’t be doing extensive rewrites. This is going to free me up to get the rest of the ‘Tarot Kings’ done. Last year I was just too busy with what was already on my plate, and being lockdown for most of the year didn’t help either. Don’t worry. Zahir is on his way. I really needed a palette cleanser after Firebird though, and ‘Sorcerers and Saints’ is providing that and getting me into the right head space to write ‘Tarot Kings’ again.

SO…here is a blurb so you all know what you’re in for with S & S and I hope to have it out in the world by Easter. And keep an eye out because I also plan on sharing some sneak peek chapters in the coming weeks!


Melbourne’s magic is broken, and it’s going to take a cursed saint, a surly sorcerer, and a hell of a miracle to fix. 

Born into a family of cursed saints, Mara Corvo has never met a heart ache she couldn’t heal. The price she pays for such a gift is that no one can remember her afterward…except for a drunk sorcerer that should never have been able to find her tea shop to begin with. 

Augustus Vance has lived with his failure for over a century. In his effort to stop a rogue sorcerer, he killed the woman he loved, and left a hole in Melbourne’s magic that he’s never been able to fix. When a chance encounter accidentally lands him in Mara’s store, he has his first dangerous dose of hope in decades.   

If the women of the Corvo family have one golden rule, it’s to stay the hell away from sorcerers, and yet there’s a wild, dangerous magic in play that keeps bringing Augustus to Mara’s door. 

Only together can they heal the hole in magic, and maybe with a big enough miracle, they might even be able to heal each other. 

‘Sorcerers and Saints’ is a new fantasy romance for readers who loved ‘The Night Circus,’ ‘Chocolat,’ and ‘The Invisible Life of Addie Larue.’  

Research Tips and Tricks!

For NaNoWriMo I recently did an Instagram live with Molly Tullis about research and some of the tips and tricks I have for doing it. As you know, I love my research, so I thought it would be good to put all my rambling notes into a blog for anyone who might be interested in it. I’m going to put it in dot points so it doesn’t turn into another ramble because I can and will talk about it all day.


#1 Keep your shit together

  • Use a notebook, Scrivener file, Word doc, a notes app…use ONE place to put all your research so you don’t lose it or are searching through a hundred random scraps of paper trying to find that one bit you really need.
  • Also keep a note of not only that really interesting thing you found…but WHERE you found it. Note down the book, movie, journal article, really cool podcast that you heard/read it so that you can reference back to it if you need to. If you are super organised make a Bibliography.

#2 Use the free Resources available to you (and there are many)

  • Use libraries and ebay to source expensive reference books. Students will often off load text books they no longer need on places like ebay to make some extra money and you can get really good deals. I’ve gotten a lot of books this way.
  • Use online resources. Not just Wikipedia (though it can be a good place to start). I’m talking about JSTOR, Gutenburg Project and Online University resources. A lot of uni’s like Yale are putting their lectures up as podcasts so you can get ALL the information you need without having to do any of the assignments 😛
  • Google Translate, Earth and maps is your friend.(Please if you use Translate, re-google the phrase to cross reference it means what you think it does and vice versa)
  • A lot of gallery’s and historical buildings have virtual tours that you can go on.

#3 Not all of your research needs to be used

  • Learn everything you need to in order to feel confident writing in the world you have created. And then get started. You are always going to have extra things that pop up when you write the story anyway.
  • Readers don’t need to know everything but it helps if you do. The more comfortable you are with your topic the more it will come across in your writing. You want readers to be enjoying the world you create and for that you need your descriptions to be seamless, but most importantly, relevant.

#4 Treasure Hunt (my fave bit)

  • Keep your eyes out for hidden jewels, those facts that make you stop and say “shit, that’s cool.” You might not use it in your current book but those facts are worth noting down in case you want to use them in another book or series. ALOT of Tarot Kings is research left over from Magicians.
  • No research is a waste even if it doesn’t end up in the book you are working on. It will hang out in the ether of your brain and make your writing more authentic…or it will mutate and become another book.

#Travel is nice, but not a necessity (or recommended in a pandemic)

  • This is more of a side note that a dot point. Please do not listen to privileged advice from writers who say shit like ‘you have to go to a city to write about it.’ For a lot of us that’s not possible, and it’s also TOTAL bullshit. As above, Google maps and earth can literally give you the ability to cruise around a city from behind your laptop. It’s also important to remember that you are writing your fictional version of the city, and it doesn’t have to be exactly the same. It won’t be, even if you do go to that place.
  • One thing I have found really useful is reading travel and food blogs of people who have been where you want to go. The whole point of travel and food blogs is that they are sensory, and you can get a really good sense of a vibe from them.

So that’s it folks, my top tips. I hope if you are doing NaNo it isn’t driving you too crazy.

Happy researching!

Ames 🙂

So, what now? A bit of an update

Firstly, I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has been reading, rating and reviewing ‘Cry of the Firebird’! It was a strange experience to be re-launching a book but its finding new readers and I’m really so proud of how it all came to together.

So what am I doing now? I’ve been getting this question a fair bit so I thought I would share what my general plan is for the next six months.

First up, I’m getting the structural edits back for ‘Rise of the Firebird’ at the end of this month. It’s the third one in Anya’s trilogy and it’s MASSIVE. I want to point out that all of these are a 120k words plus so it’s why I’ve basically been working on them all year and why you haven’t gotten another ‘Tarot Kings’ book yet.

‘Rise’ is huge so I think its going to take me until at least December to get it done. With a glimmer of hope that lockdown is easing up, I’m hoping my mental health will be on an upswing and I’ll be able to get through the editing a lot easier than the other two. Advice: Never try and rewrite a trilogy in a pandemic when you have ADHD. It’s done, and I’m proud as shit but man, was it maximum effort to get through it. I love this series so much, but I’ll be glad when the ‘Rise’ edits are done and out of the way.

After the above is finished, I fully intend to jump back into “Tarot Kings” starting with Zahir’s book. For those that listened to my interview with “Queens, Quests and Tropes” you will know I have been busily planning all three of the next books (Wands, Cups and Coins) because ideally I’d like to write them all back to back. I feel like after this year of basically continual lockdowns, I really need to write something fun and Zahir definitely fits that description.

That’s the plan, and hopefully the next six months won’t be as disruptive as the last two years and I’ll be able to get some fresh new stories down on the page.

As a part of my scaling back to focus only on writing, I have given up on Facebook entirely. You may recall a few months back I said good bye to Good Reads as well. Facebook has increasingly become a place that I don’t want to be over the past eighteen months and with posts only being seen if I throw money at them, it’s not worth my time. The only social media I currently have is Instagram, because I really enjoy the bookstagram community.

This newsletter is always going to be the best place to get updates on what I am doing, and what is upcoming, so please subscribe so you can get the info straight into your inbox. I’m going to be a lot more active in this space, now I’m not juggling other platforms, and I have some fun stuff planned like sneak chapters of King of Wands that I am going to share.

I hope you all keeping safe wherever you are in the world, keep those masks on and remember to be kind to each other…this pandemic has been a real fucker so lets be nice.

Ames x

‘Cry of the Firebird’ is LIVE!

Happy Launch Day Everyone!

I am so excited that this book is finally out in the world again! If you want to hear all about the Firebird world, please jump onto ‘Queens, Quests and Tropes’ and listen to this weeks episode. Molly, Alyssa and I do a deep dive into what you can expect from the series and ALL the spin offs.

You can grab a copy of ‘Cry of the Firebird’ here, and please don’t forget to leave a rating or a review on your fave sites to help other readers find it.

Here is a blurb for anyone who wants it:

Filled with magic, adventure, and mythology pulled deep from Russian and Finish folklore, Cry of the Firebird is a dark fantasy that dives deep into the world of magic, pitting those who would abuse it against those sworn to protect it.

A firebird is reborn on the borders of Russia, a gate to a world of monsters and magic is breaking, and only a reluctant, untrained shaman stands in the way of a flood of supernatural darkness…

Anya is still reeling from the death of her grandfather when a strange encounter with the Finnish God of the Dead changes her life forever: Her family has been guarding the gates to the Russian otherworld on their farm for centuries, and she’s the new gatekeeper. Worse, if she doesn’t awaken her magical abilities and assume her new role, the gate will break, unleashing a flood of monsters and dark gods into their world.

As Anya struggles to make sense of her changing world, she can’t deny the strange encounters. She’ll need to accept her fate and work with the legendary firebird if she hopes to survive—and protect humanity.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Ames x

Firebird a Top Indie Fave on B&N!

So excited to wake up to the news that ‘Cry of the Firebird’ has been selected as a Top Indie Fave on Barnes & Noble! You can check out it and other great titles on the list here!

Also, I wanted to give you a heads up that I’m going to be a guest on the hilarious book podcast “Queens, Quests and Tropes” that you can listen to here on Spotify.

One more week until Firebird is out and in the world again!

Hope you are all doing well, wherever you are in the world,

Ames x

‘Cry of the Firebird’ Book Show interview

Back in May I had a lot of fun doing a Zoom interview with my amazing editor Chelsea for the Publisher’s Weekly 2021 Book Show Expo. It’s now become live on Youtube for everyone to watch if you want to learn absolutely everything about ‘The Firebird Faerietales’ world and what to expect from some of the characters and monsters!

It was the first time I’ve ever done anything like it before so I was really nervous, so I apologize for the ‘ums’ lol. Check it out here.

I hope you are all doing okay where ever you are in the world, I’m still in lockdown and trying not to be too bummed out about it. I’ve just finished up a round of structural edits for book 2, ‘Ashes of the Firebird’ that will be out June next year.

Stay safe!

Ames x

Publishers Weekly on ‘Cry’

An amazing thing to wake up to! Publishers Weekly have given me an extra nice review for ‘Cry of the Firebird.’ For those that have been around for a while, you might understand why I am tripping out so hard. This book has had many lives and for it to be reborn again, this year, and getting this kind of love, it really is a bizarre feeling but a total blessing. You can read the full write up here!

Melbourne has gone into lockdown again, so I’m trying to stay positive and focused on the books I want to finish off in the second half of the year. First up will be ‘King of Wands’, and then I really want to finish off ‘Sorcerers and Saints’ a book about magic and Melbourne that I feel like I’ve been trying to write on and off for about seven years. Spliced in between these will be my inevitable rounds of structural edits of ‘Ashes’ and ‘Rise.’

I’m technically on holidays until the end of the month so I’m trying to catch up on some of my most anticipated reads of the year, namely ‘Mr Impossible’ by Maggie Steifvater and ‘Any way the wind blows’ by Rainbow Rowell. Not to mention ten Paranormal Romance books I want to get through lol. I have been so smashed with rewrites that my haggard old brain is going to take a while to catch itself up enough to really dive into some books that I didn’t write.

Hope you are all well and safe, wherever you are!

Ames x