Gardens of War & Wasteland, Other

release information: the collector's lost things

COMING SOON: A new Gardens of War & Wasteland story coming exclusively to Wattpad

Rei-Hai Shaw was a collector, and he was very good.

Since joining the mysterious brethren of the Tower at the age of thirteen, Rei has risen the ranks to become the youngest recruit ever to receive a band.

Favoured by the masters and distrusted by his peers, Rei plans to make the most of his lonely existence. But when he is chosen to take a second trial and claim another band, he soon doubts the price of success when the latest mission strikes a little too close to home.

Sent back to the world of his childhood, Rei is painfully reminded of everything he left behind—and what he can’t bear to lose again.


The Collector’s Lost Things takes place before the events of Gardens of War & Wasteland: The Ruptured Sky, and will be available for free on Wattpad from mid-February 2020.

A sneak peek will be available to subscribers on January 31st. Sign up now to have the first chapter delivered ahead of time, straight to your inbox!

Gardens of War & Wasteland, Other

welcome to whyt’hallen 03: archive – the sickness

Before the mortal Second Born crossed the Azure Expanse and came to settle in Whyt’Hallen, they had an established civilisation of their own back on the continent of Mey.

For a thousand years the native Meytarans thrived, raising kingdoms and cities and culture. Their growth seemed limitless … until the Sickness came.

Continue reading “welcome to whyt’hallen 03: archive – the sickness”
Short Stories

at the stroke of midnight

It smelt like every other library, though it was certainly different after dark. The perfume from the books was stronger at night, sweeter and more pungent, made all the more noticeable by the lingering whiff of coffee.

Mila stumbled behind the others, torch in hand. Andrik led their little group through the shelves, all the while whispering in Tao’s ear. Tao let out a muffled laugh and Mila scoffed; her brother wasn’t that funny.

Continue reading “at the stroke of midnight”
Flash Fiction Friday

#flashfictionfriday 14

Sebastian set himself down on the window ledge and started to clean his face. His black hair had been preened to a lustrous sheen, his nails trimmed and tidy.

“The time?” He asked, looking towards Stephanie, where she reclined on the bed.

“11:56pm,” she said, a slight tremble in her voice.

“Almost time.” Sebastian glanced back out the window, at the moon partially hidden behind the clouds. His tail swished. “You know I’m naked when I turn, right?”

Stephanie’s grin was coy. “As if you have need for clothes!”

Sebastian purred. “Well, with only 24 hours to be human, we had best make the most of it.”

Flash Fiction Friday

#flashfictionfriday 13

“You selfish bitch,” she managed, jaw still gripped in rigor mortis.

Natalie stood, shocked, silent and shaking, as she regarded the mud-covered figure in her dining room. Charlize had returned to her.

She took two quick steps forward, tears in her eyes and joy in her heart; Charlize backed away.

“Why did you do this to me?” Charlize choked. “Why did you bring me back?”

“I wasn’t ready, Charlie,” Natalie whimpered. “I couldn’t—”

“But I was!” Charlie reached for the steak knife laid out beside Natalie’s dinner. She tightened her death-stiff fingers around the handle. “I was done! At peace. Resting.”

“Charlie, please.” Natalie’s tears soured, no longer revelling in a miracle but drowning in shame. “I couldn’t live with you gone.”

“That’s why you’ve always been the selfish one.”

Charlie took the blade to her throat and slashed.

Flash Fiction Friday

#flashfictionfriday 12

Loretta Lynch spends her mornings grinding bones and it’s not to make her bread. She’s not a giant, or a witch, or any other of those silly creatures you might have read about in your fairy tales.

Loretta Lynch is an alchemist, and she knows how to live forever.

It hadn’t been easy, finding the recipe. A life time of work, quite literally. She’d poisoned herself once or twice and quit much more often. But just days before her fifty-third birthday, Loretta tried one last formula. She clutched the phial to her chest and said a prayer to the nameless gods.

Down her throat it went.

That was many years ago now. I was but a boy then, you see. And you were likely not even born.

Yes, you can buy her panacea, if she happens to like your face. But visit her store with care, good child: she charges more than coin.

Flash Fiction Friday

#flashfictionfriday 11

Selina had a habit of drawing pentagrams on the soles of her shoes. A habit that started as an edgy facade and soon became an obsession.

‘Aces high,’ Deb exclaimed, turning out her hand to reveal a three-of-a-kind windfall.

Jack threw his kings at the couch.

‘Sssh,’ Selina barked; she was getting nervous. The tip of the Sharpie bore deep grooves in the soles of her turquoise Connies where she traced the five-pointed star over and over again. Now her teeth bored grooves in her lower lip, too.

‘Chill out, Sel,’ Deb shrugged. She reached for a bag of marshmallows buried amongst the pile of junk food they’d assembled for the sleep over. ‘Nothing’s going to happen at midnight.’

‘Why midnight anyways?’ Jack crunched a mouthful of Pringles.

‘Because that’s what he told me,’ Selina muttered through clenched teeth. Told being spelt-out on the crude, hand-drawn Ouija board last weekend. ’12. 12. 12 — 12 o’clock on December 12.’

‘How d’you know it wasn’t noon?’ Jack asked.

‘Because it’s dinner time and I’m still alive.’