A dark romantasy for the reader who finishes at 3am and immediately goes back to chapter one because the ending rewrote everything.
Three Greek names for three turns of the same wheel — recollection, conflagration, rebirth.
A dystopian romantasy about a girl deciding that she — and the people she loves — are not acceptable losses, set inside an institution that has spent centuries proving otherwise. A high-concept, character-driven thriller that might just make you think. At its heart: a girl with a snarky void-beast and exceptionally poor taste in men.
Four quests. Four races against time. Four dysfunctional teams just trying to survive the Bleed. One extraordinary twist.
What's a goddess to do with her existence but imagine up amazing stories? But what happens when her characters start biting back?
Early pages, wilder ideas, nothing on submission yet — a peek at what's brewing next.
On Her Majesty's Secret Service, a young Will Shakespeare — broke, brilliant, and far too curious for his own good — is sent to sniff out a religious plot against the Crown. What he digs up is older, darker, and a great deal more occult than his spymasters bargained for. Turns out a poet was exactly the wrong man to send — and exactly the right one.
A clutch of eye-rolling teenagers, dragged to Avebury's stone circle for the summer solstice by their incense-burning, festival-loving families. One minute it's drum circles and questionable kaftans — the next, the stones have yanked them four and a half thousand years back, to the people raising them by hand. Getting home means understanding why the gate was built at all, and what it was meant to keep out.
It's Nietzsche in a corset. It's philosophy with teeth.
The Chosen One, inverted so completely the heroine is the source of the world's suffering — not its salvation.
Devotion that survives six hundred years of death and forgetting — beautiful, or a kind of captivity?
Early blurbs coming soon — booksellers & reviewers, get in touch.
“I write about the things we bury. The memories that survive in the body when the mind tries to forget. The love that persists through cycles it shouldn't be able to remember.”
Melbourne-based writer with a PhD in English and Cultural Studies. I've spent years studying how stories lodge in us — how narrative rewires the way we think about power, memory, identity, and what we're willing to burn for. I've lectured at the University of Melbourne and La Trobe, sit on the advisory board of Deakin University's Masters in Creative Writing, and learned the most important thing about writing at a Sydney PR firm: every word either earns its place or costs you the reader.
The Anamnesis Trilogy is my debut — a dark romantasy that asks what happens when you discover you've been living the same life for six hundred years, and the system keeping you asleep was built with your own hands. It's built for the reader who finishes at 3am and immediately goes back to chapter one.
When I'm not writing, I'm reading too many books at once, arguing about whether Heraclitus was an optimist, and being aggressively supervised by two doodles who have strong opinions about my writing hours and zero interest in my deadlines.
Alexander Larman called the genre wish fulfillment. I'd call it a symptom — and a challenge to real men, before an algorithm beats them to it.
Read the essay →Five ancient, terrifying, world-ending beasts of the Anamnesis Trilogy — rendered in plush. Because even a void-beast deserves a hug.
Read more →The night I realised my protagonist had been repeating the same story for six hundred years — and why that changed everything about how I write consequences.
Read more →What happens when your worldbuilding is also your character's psychology? Notes on void, beasts, and the architecture of the impossible.
Read more →A PhD survivor's highly opinionated, emotionally compromised reading list. Featuring: things that made me cry on public transport.
Read more →One Nietzsche quote. A 147K-word novel. And the discovery that the troubadours got there first.
Read more →Dark hair, golden hair, and the grammar of desire that's been running the same pattern for eight hundred years.
Read more →On dawn songs, displaced longing, and the chapter I wrote without knowing it was eight centuries old.
Read more →Follow the road to publication, get first looks at covers and chapters, and be the first to know when Anamnesis finds its home.
You're on the list. Welcome to the cycle.