I'm a romance and comedy writer from BC, Canada. My debut novel (Not) Your Basic Love Story came out in August, 2022. Now represented by Claire Harris at PS. Literary!
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Not Your Basic Love Story
I always have a plan. Always. The empty seat next to me was definitely not in the plan. Even worse, it was a painful reminder of the loneliness I was about to face for the entirety of my weekend in Mexico. Not that it was a vacation. If it were possible to cancel, I would have.
The First Argetlam
There is something different about this one. It smells the same as the rest— fresh meat masked by the putrid stench of piss and shit, with a fading musky undertone of fear. But there is a sweetness to it, carried by the mist and fog, swirling around the base of the giant trees as their branches creak in the evening wind. I follow the scent, nostrils flaring. Branches snap beneath my weight as I maneuver through the maze of foliage, delving deep into the forest. The four-legged inhabitants scurry away, though they need not to.
Fire & Fog
Prologue There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Until I led them to us. The dragons used to keep to themselves. They stayed where they belonged, at the rocky cliffs where earth meets ocean and sky. They built their nests and raised their young at this precipice, hunting in the depths of endless dark water. They laid their eggs when the constellation of Attenu was highest overhead, under the watch of the full moon, marking the end of the season of Rain and the beginning of the season of Fog. Three full moons later, the eggs would hatch and new dragons would be borne into the world.
This ship was different. I could feel it in my whiskers. It wasn't the first ship I'd been aboard, but it was unlike anything I'd ever witnessed. It was grand, stretching further than I could see. It was lit with a thousand torches, thrumming with a thousand footfalls, teeming with a thousand rats. All my life had been preparing me for an opportunity such as this.
Fated by an Owl
Of course I’m stuck here with him. Of all the people at this stupid wedding, it’s him. Rain pounds on the tin roof above, echoing through the dark expanse of the barn. Faint illumination from the string lights outside filter in through the dusty single-pane windows, leaving most of the barn clad in deep shadows of blue and grey.
I Need A New Robe Belt
A bold wind blows in off the ocean, fluttering my silk robe open. My fingers clutch at the edges to pull it closed, its usual radiant red dulled to a dried-blood brown in the silvery moonlight. Other than the twinkling satellites in the night sky, the only illumination is the distant logo broadcast into the clouds. An eyeless, glowing smile looms overhead. It was intended to inspire happiness. Instead it conjures a sense of foreboding deep within my gut, as if I’ve been poisoned, promising a slow, painful death. Like that of our planet.
It Doesn't Feel Like Work
I came into my job on happenstance, as many great adventures often begin. I'd been a member at my yoga studio for about a year, attending three to six times a week. The exercise, the infrared heat, the community, it all helped with both my physical and mental health. When the studio owners announced their plan to move to Costa Rica I jumped at the opportunity and slapped my resume on their desk the following day.