Status: First draft complete; on hold
Genre: Historical fiction / Bildungsroman / Novel of manners
Themes: love, forgiveness, morality, self-discovery, growing up
Word count: 135k
“Nobody liked Lysander Dowding-Ellis.
Like many other young lords his age, he spent his time horse racing, spending money, and perhaps eating a bit too much cake. He was handsome, true enough, and terribly rich, but those things aside, he was generally regarded as rather unpleasant. Nonetheless, he enjoyed what his extravagant life had to offer, even if his petty pleasures only reflected disgrace.
Until one day, he realized what consequences they could bring.
Until one day, he disappeared, leaving his father without an heir and his family fortune dangerously unclaimed. No one could have predicted what disarray his disappearance would cause, nor the slew of opportunities that would arise in its wake.
Suddenly, the spoiled brat whom nobody cared much for has become the talk of the English countryside. And it’s up to his twin sister, his mysterious best friend, and a poor stablehand to find him and bring him home, no matter the cost.
This is a tale about a hunt for a fox whom nobody really wanted to find.
This is a tale about a fox who didn’t really want to be found.”
After the Hunt: Peace in Pembrokeshire (Foxhunt follow-up)
Status: Planning; on hold
Type: Short story / poetry collection / thought dump
Themes: love, family, friendship, peace
Celta Book I
Status: Second draft complete; on hold
Type: Book I of a novella series
Genre: Celtic fantasy
Themes: Courage, loyalty, wisdom, honor
Where the Cicadas Fall Silent
Status: Planning; on hold
Themes: Courage, power, trust, honor, sacrifice
“They say the magic in this crooked old world is gone forever now. They say it was slaughtered with the Aztecs, forgotten with pirates’ treasure. Of course, some people deny that it ever existed in the first place. Those are the fool ones, the ones who bury their heads under their pillows when fate comes knocking. The ones who wouldn’t last a day in the wildest of the wild.
Because the truth is that there is a sprinkling of the old magic left, but it’s mighty hard to find, and there are few who’re brave—or stupid—enough to go looking.
Oh, yes, the magic is there, no matter what anyone may say. It’s in the swaying of the moss on the trees, the creak of an ancient rocking chair, the glint in a gator’s eye. It’s always been there, though not just anyone could see it.
And I reckon it’s just about to make itself known to the world again.
For good, this time.
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