Where it all began:

Seven years ago, I had a passing thought. "I think I'm going to finally try writing a book."

I got somewhat of a storyline. It was weak, barely crumbs of what would one day be my first manuscript, but still, it was something.

I discussed it with my then partner (now husband - we will come back to this). He was encouraging, and we discussed some storyline ideas, and he went out and bought me what we could afford at the time - a Galaxy tablet with a keyboard.

I bought the idea of writing a book up with my husband's/my Nan. She is a huge reader, and I loved that it was something we had already bonded over. A large part of me expected to be met with some scepticism. However, there was nothing but encouragement and positivity.

That was it. That's what it took for me to plunge into the deep end. So, the crumbs of Grief were started, and I turned those crumbs into pieces. Pieces of a story that had a 5-6 book outline, plus a novella—my partner and I were very ambitious when working on the storyline together.

Here's the thing. Seven years ago, my daughter was only one. My youngest son (at the time) was in kinder, and my oldest was navigating school life. I found the time to write. Sort of. But toddlers and young children don't leave a lot of it. Then life in general got rocky. I needed to get back to working. So, when an opportunity came up, I jumped on it. And Grief was shelved.

Fast forward only 3-4 months. Every drive to work would induce a panic attack. I would arrive and try to avoid my boss at all costs. He was miserable, abusive and honestly, a sexist pig. But I saw it, through, to keep extra income coming in for our babies. Until I could no longer take it.

The very same week that I quit, I picked Grief back up. Over my dead body could I leave a job that was bringing in income and not do something to replace it. Oh boy. If only I knew.

So, I wrote. Day and night. I locked myself away while my partner continued the role he had already picked up of full-time dad. They were lucky to see me come out of my room when I would eat with them, get them ready for school, and bounce ideas off my partner because I was stuck. Or when we had wedding plans to sort out.

Throughout this time, I was also printing it out every 3 chapters for Nan to read and give feedback. A resource that, to this day, is invaluable and without her and her continued support/help, I'm not sure I would still be writing.

I made it to one hundred manuscript pages. (A4. Double-spaced. 12point.) Then life did its thing again. Parenting and wedding planning took the forefront of everything. Grief was shelved, again.

In the thick of wedding planning, just a few short months out, my alopecia areata returned (stress-induced). I shut everything down to do with planning. If it could wait, then it waited. If it was urgent, I delegated. I was determined that I was going to have long brown hair for my wedding, and no stress-induced hair loss was going to ruin it. So, I started my round of steroid cream and put everything I could on pause.

I decided, during this time, to open my manuscript; mostly, I wanted the distraction. I had no real motivation at that time to continue writing. At least not until the wedding was over.

I read these hundred pages, hit select all and wiped the slate clean. I found my motivation. The writing was arse. The story had good bones. I knew that. But I hadn't given it the writing it deserved.

That's when it happened. I was suddenly locked away again. The wedding date was approaching, and everything was in order. By some miracle. It turns out Nan was concerned (jokingly, I think) that I wouldn't even make it to the wedding because I couldn't pry myself away from the desk. - By this time, I had also been gifted an old laptop from another supportive family member.

I did, in fact, make it to my wedding on time, but it was only days later that I was back at it.

Then it happened. I decided to open Grief up for preorders. Something I had never done before (obviously) and, well, to put it simply, I fucked it up. I filled it in wrong, and instead of starting the preorders from I think November for a December/January release. I make it so November would instead be the release - I got married at the end of September- suddenly I had lost two months. Panic mode was activated. I wrote relentlessly, and within weeks, I was done. Leaving just enough time to edit. - except I didn't. I rushed. I didn't let the panic go until I hit upload, then I celebrated. What was released was a mess. There were mistakes everywhere. Two more times after this, my husband updated the cover, and I skimmed the manuscript to "edit" it. But editing wasn't my focus. Getting the next two books out was. And that was one of the most arrogant and inexcusable mistakes I ever made. This mistake continued and trickled down through Cassius and Guilt. I would skim, use Grammarly and ProWritingAid, but I would consistently decide that it was done once I had corrected a few red lines.

Six years on, and this time, when I opened the series back up, I read EVERY. SINGLE. WORD. I took my time as much as I could with a deadline. I couldn't find time during the day, so I stayed up until 2 am most nights. It took a week longer than I was hoping. But that's okay because I know it took longer because this time, I did it right. No pages skimmed.

This is a story of angels, fated love, forbidden love, secrets, betrayal and a character who has to make tough decisions - be the person she knows she is, the monster she was or give in and accept none of it was ever her choice to begin with.

But hidden within the binds of this book is also the story of a writer who fucked up. If there is a list of mistakes you can make as an author, I can tick pretty much every box. It's the story of a writer who, after six years, has learned patience in her writing and editing. Who has learned that I never want to reflect myself, and my work like that again, and who is not afraid to admit -I fucked up. Grief, Cassius, and Guilt are now available in a special omnibus edition. "A Realm of Feathers and Fury" is available on Kindle, as paperback and hardback.