Phantom and Rook now in audio!

Phantom and Rook, narrated by Kirt Graves, is now available on Audible! Readers have called this book a captivating love story, a warm hug, and somewhere people want to live. Tomorrow it will be available on Spotify,, and pretty much everywhere else. You can find all the links right here.

In the meantime, here’s a sneak peek from the POV of the immortal who everyone is bound to forget. Even his soulmate.

Here’s what you can expect.

☀️ Grumpy x Sunshine

⛈️ Forgotten Memories

🏳️‍🌈 Misfit Found Family

✨ Immersive Modern Fantasy

🧹 Witches

🪙 Treasure Hunt

❤️‍🔥Slow Burn Mutual Pining

🎧 Dual POV

💊Mental Health and Disability Rep

🎨Magical Tattoos

❤️ Idiots to Lovers, lots of facepalming

Book Blurb:

Arlo Rook has decided it’s time to move out of Garren Castle, home for orphans of all races, magical or not, at 100 years old. It’s not the first time he’s left home, but after a setback that landed the Hedge Witch in the hospital a year ago, he ended up right back at square one. 

But now he’s ready to strike out on his own, despite his friend’s worries that he’s not ready for the real world. 

Thatch Phantom is an immortal, the last of his kind and perpetually bored. When he’s not closing inter-dimensional rifts and corralling demons, he’s visiting his favorite city of all, Levena.  

Centuries ago, when life was particularly dull, he set up a scavenger hunt for a starving village, providing them with a year’s worth of supplies. Once again, Thatch is listless, and has decided to throw a wild card into this year’s game. Whoever discovers him will win one wish of their choice, no restrictions. Aside from the obvious, such as no falling in love, murder, or resurrection.

What he didn’t anticipate was crashing into the one person whose soul mark flares like a beacon when Thatch is around, teasing the immortal with the one thing he wants most: someone to call home.   

What follows is a wild chain of events filled with magical coffee shops, villains with vendettas against cheese makers, moving tattoos, grand puzzles, and second chances at love and life.

Iverbourne in Audio

There’s going to be a lot happening in the next few weeks, so to kick things off let’s celebrate with new audiobook covers of the Iverbourne series!

The Realm of Giants audiobook is nearly finished, narrated by Jacob Bucholz, the same narrator who did Prince of Sylvan. He has brought such life to Novak, and all of the characters. The banter between Tzel and Novak is fantastic, and by Gods is Tzel terrifying. It’s funny, because the last time I heard Novak in Jacob’s voice, he was experiencing the best time of his life. Not so much in Realm of Giants, and his loss of sanity is done wonderfully.

And don’t even get me started on Alvis.

Princess of Terra is currently up for audition, but I have high hopes for the same narrator who did Children of Iverbourne.

If you want to dive into the world of Iverbourne, you can check things out here.


Iverbourne Series

Crew of Misfits Newsletter

When Witches Sing is out!

“Could you show me some magick?”

Oh,” I whisper, then nod quickly. “Yeah, okay.”

I clear my throat and stand, then sit back down, because I don’t want to stand over him. He’s already so much shorter than me, I feel like a giant just sitting next to him. He tentatively presses a hand to my arm, lips parting, and I startle. He pulls back, not taking his eyes off me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you nervous.”

“Oh, I’m not. Nervous, that is.”

Felix chuckles. “Okay. Well, you don’t have to make yourself smaller, for me.”

“Oh,” I say, then stand and straighten to my full height before him. The leaves and petals in my hair and along my skin stand to attention, and I blush at the image of preening like a fucking peacock.

“Wow,” Felix says, staring up at me with wide eyes. “You’re really tall.”

I almost lean down, but he takes my hand. This time, he doesn’t let go. “No, don’t.” Felix stands beside me, my hand in his. I stare down at our entangled fingers, then back to his face. His neck is craned and it looks painful, but the determination in his eyes is almost frightening.

I squeeze his hand, then let go. I put my hands up, smiling wide. “Okay, have it your way, tchotchke.”

Oh, how he smiles at that. He pretends to be affronted, but that smile. It’s perpetual, blinding. “I am not a small thing.”

I shrug, turning away from him. I bring my hands to chest level and smile upon coming up with an idea. I close my eyes and murmur, “Abracadabra.”

Have fun with swamp witches, chaos witches, root witches and musical witches. Just, all of the witchery and tomfoolery there ever could be. Happy Yuletide friends.


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Put your talons up.

Welcome to Thitwhistle’s, a place where you can let your tail down and stretch your wings out. There’s Monster Hot Cocoa and sugar bombed pastries for the were-pups, we don’t mind fangs or claws.

There’s been a rumor that a well to do, mysterious investor just bought out the place and isn’t changing a thing. Except doubling what they bake, in order to account for their voracious appetite.

Why don’t you put your talons up and stay awhile? The Witches don’t bite.


Excerpt from Phantom and Rook.

We enter the open and spacious cafe section. The barista counters and refrigerated display cases are centered on a raised, half moon plaza that dominates the head of the cafe.

The once white tiles of the dias are painted cobalt and spattered with star dust clouded constellations. Vibrant colors of the night flow beneath our feet, extending into a river that swirls around the raised area and spreads out to blanket the rest of the wood floor in starry clouds.

The lapis astronomy theme accented by gold continues throughout the shop, much different from the earthy tones Mrs. Thitwhistle used, but I think it’s a rather nice touch. The lofty ceiling of the entire place is filled with golden galaxies and meteors, milky ways and dying planets. More paint detailing shows up in random places, the artist’s touch reaches every subtle inch of the room.

Lines of planets along the edge of a table, shooting stars over top of a curving window frame, explosive golden bursts of light that make my heart ache.

Curtains drape alongside each of the unique round windows facing the street, which are quite a few. The heavy, royal blue fabrics are embroidered in simple gold along the edges and match the upholstered lounge chairs and couches nestled by the fireplaces. Dual hearths rest on the east and west sides of the room, accompanied by chess boards, small tables, and the furniture which the college kids are currently taking advantage of.

Enormous groups congregate around both roaring fires, laughter rolls through the gossip and small talk thickens the warm atmosphere. Thitwhistle’s feels like someone’s grand study open to the public rather than a bookstore, complete with coffee beans and scones, and I’ve never felt more at home. The crowd is equal parts magickal beings and humans, young, old and everything in between.

There are a few older folks tucked into a corner, eyes crinkling and steam curling around mugs which hide their smiles. A set of half-shifted werewolf pups tug on their mother’s sleeve, begging for the ‘Monster Hot Cocoa’ complete with candy and whip cream on top. She rolls her eyes with a smile, in humanoid form, then orders three of the drinks and half a dozen donuts for the bus ride to Full Moons Field.


I run to him.

Belatedly, I recognize this for what it is. A dance, Calen is leading me into a dance. Stars, when was the last time I did this?

With Arlo, I had told him I couldn’t handle loving and losing him.

My breath hitches, but that’s all the sadness my heart is allowed before Calen quite literally sweeps me off my feet. They are marvelous, erasing my disadvantage that is unfamiliarity with such a simple act as dancing. The notes seem to swirl around us, no—through us— and I laugh. It starts off small and unsure, but then Calen is laughing too, spinning me in circles upon circles in the middle of the kitchen.

Silas calls out over the music, “Don’t break his hip birdie!”

And it goes on and on, the laughter and music and sun.

Sunlight streams in through the colored mosaic of windows overlooking the backyard, casting reds, blues, golds and purples onto our moment in time. Calen’s soft cheeks burst with happiness when Pesto joins in, prancing around us on those little hooves. A breeze moves through the room, bringing with it the distinct scent of wet earth. I stumble to a stop and nearly topple us both over, but thankfully Calen keeps us upright.

Lysander, Felix and Arlo stand just inside the backdoor, bringing snow covered boots and flushed smiles with them. Felix grins wide at me, stands on his tip toes and gives Lysander a kiss on the cheek, then practically throws himself into Silas’ arms. Silas takes it in stride, situating the witch across his lap and burying his face into Felix’s chest.

And Arlo—oh my stars, Arlo.

He’s looking at me like I’m something.

Like I mean something.

Like I exist.

Like this is it, this is ours and he’s mine and I–

I run to him.

How could I not?

It’s like the first day of my new life all over again. I kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him.

He laughs against my lips, big palms settling on my cheeks. His hands are so cold, but I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. His fingers slide across my jaw, tangling themselves into my hair. Heat courses up my spine when he opens for me, allowing my tongue to find his. The same thought that occurs every time we kiss swims in the background.

Can he feel how much I’ve missed him?

The solid, fast paced rhythm of his heart that matches every beat of mine proudly affirms yes, yes, yes.


Only a couple of weeks left, have you signed up for the Crew of Misfits to get this for free?

All aboard

A Yuletide Special

What is the Crew of Misfits?

The Crew of Misfits is the name I gave to my readers, and later on newsletter subscribers. I send pins with the Crew of Misfits logo to every person that buys a signed book from me. If you’ve read the steampunk series, you know the main characters compose the Crew of Misfits, and in my new series, the friend group is also called the Misfits.

If you sign up for the Crew of Misfits newsletter, you’ll receive first looks at new art, news about upcoming books, and free novellas.

Explore below to learn more about the available adventures in the Iverbourne series, which are dark steampunk fantasy.

Phantom and Rook is the first book in a new urban fantasy series, Adventures in Levena. You can find out more about this magickal and feel good novel below as well, and the upcoming novella.

These books are ADULT, please read the prefaces before starting to check for specific mature themes.

Sign up for the Crew of Misfits here.

Dark Steampunk Fantasy with High Stakes Adventure, Spicy Romance and an Inclusive Cast

Keeper of Death is quite a fitting name for a villain, and yet Lythienne finds herself as the only Fae who can save the realm of Iverbourne.

Born as an Empty Fae, she is sent into the Eternal Mountain, a prison designed for the most malicious, blood thirsty and cursed creatures alive. Her crime, along with so many other creatures, is being Lesser than the grand High Fae who rule the divided lands above.

Aether magic rules Iverbourne, a whimsical land ravaged by long held prejudices, unkind to all those without magic. The Others are a mysterious court to the south, kidnapping and murdering all those on their path through the continent.

Only a Fae without Aether can wield the mysterious Harbinger, a weapon of mass destruction needed to defeat the epic evil taking over the realm. The elegant call of immense power corrupts most, especially those who have been mistreated.

Dangerous lust, high stakes adventure and loyal companionship are thrust into Lyth’s life, but can she be the Hero after playing the Villain for so long? After all, why would you want to save a world that wants to see you buried six feet under?

Find out more about the Iverbourne Series

MM Modern Fantasy, Found Family, Immortal x Man, Grumpy x Sunshine, Guy Witches, Soulmates and Second Chances

Arlo Rook has decided it’s time to move out of Garren Castle, home for orphans of all races, magical or not, at 100 years old.

It’s not the first time he’s left home, but after a setback that landed the Hedge Witch in the hospital a year ago, he ended up right back at square one. But now he’s ready to strike out on his own, despite his friend’s worries that he’s not ready for the ‘real world.’

Then, he crashes into a mess of copper curls and bright eyes, sending apothecary goods and his life into a chaotic mess. Thatch is a mysterious and incredibly wealthy benefactor of Levena, only spoken of but never seen. He requests a night of Arlo’s company and a tour of the city, which Arlo immediately declines.

But that’s not the last time they see each other, and it certainly wasn’t the first. Arlo doesn’t remember him, no one remembers Thatch after he visits, but Thatch never forgot the Witch with a familiar mark on his face.

Thatch Phantom is an immortal, the last of his kind and perpetually bored. When he’s not closing inter-dimensional rifts and corralling demons, he’s visiting his favorite city of all, Levena.  Centuries ago, when life was particularly dull, he set up a scavenger hunt for a starving village, providing them with a year’s worth of supplies.

He anonymously returned year after year, upping the ante and providing less practical things, as the village had become a city and was wealthy beyond belief. Festivals were thrown in his honor, and have continued every year since. Hundreds of years later, The Game is still put on by the fabled ‘Scarlet Illusionist’, but no one has figured out who blesses them with the puzzles.

Once again, Thatch is listless and has decided to throw a wild card into this year’s Game. Whoever discovers him will win one wish of their choice, no restrictions. Aside from the obvious, such as no falling in love, murder or resurrection.

What he didn’t anticipate was crashing into the one person whose soul mark flares like a beacon when Thatch is around, teasing the immortal with the one thing he wants most.

Someone to call home.

What follows is a wild chain of events filled with magical coffee shops, villains with vendettas against cheese makers, moving tattoos, grand puzzles, and second chances at love, and life.

Find out more about the Adventures in Levena Series

When Witches Sing

A glitter and glue covered witch calling the man who took him under his wing Dad for the first time.
A riverside vigil held for a man thought lost to time, arranged by a witch filled with chaos.
A dancing witch who hides in plain sight, protecting others like them from a violent and unfamiliar Levena.
A swamp witch comprised of moss and a lonely heart, who finds out how many ways a heart can be stretched.
A clumsy immortal, returned home to the hedge witch who has waited eleven years to hold his soulmate again.

There will be screaming goats, long nights filled with nightmares and the comfort of a lover once lost to time, burnt breakfasts and dancing in kitchens. Fireplaces will crackle to life in cottages filled with bones, crystals, paintings and books. The snow will fall lazily outside windows that are decorated with strands of citrus garland. The silver and golden moons will be full, and they will all dance around a bonfire to massive drums beat upon by kindred spirits.

And when the night melds with dawn, those who have been separated for far too long will reunite under candle light, accompanied only by the sounds and sensations of the person they’re with. Their person.

The witches will sing, and there will be so much love and life, that there can’t possibly be another Yule quite like this one.

Sign up to the Crew of Misfits newsletter to get this novella for free on December 21, or you can pre-order the ebook. Paperbacks will be available on the day of release.

Crews of Misfits


Got Witches?

Adventures in Levena is a place for all things Phantom and Rook. Short stories and news about upcoming books in the series can be found there, along with all three maps for the world. All short stories are canon and some may contain spoilers, so I recommend reading them after you’ve finished Phantom and Rook.

You can visit here.

The reviews for Phantom and Rook so far are full of good things and I’ve been loving seeing people’s packages arrive in the mail via social media. Over forty copies of Phantom and Rook have been sold in it’s first week, leading to lots of happy tears from both readers and myself.

Don’t be afraid to show off your copy, and all reviews are greatly appreciated, even if it’s stars only, because who has time for WORDS?

Certainly not me.


Goodreads Review

You will just have to read the book to get the humor of it all. Along with all the sass! Oh, I want to keep gushing, but I will give too much away.

There’s MM action and this read represents all sides of the LGBTQ+ spectrum! I loved viewing different dynamics and healthy ones at that! No one caring what you are or are not and everyone being so open. It feels like you came home when you read this book. Honestly, my bags are packed and after I post this review I am gone for Levena. I’m positive one of my many freckles is a Soulmark or maybe I have several? Is that a thing? I have to go find out!

Announcing A Yuletide Special

When Witches Sing is a novella that takes place days after the epilogue of Phantom and Rook, featuring Thatch and Arlo together again in Witch House. I’ll be releasing it around the holidays and all Misfits will receive an e-copy of this novella for free. All good feelings and fluffy romance, low angst and some plot. This will contain spoilers and is intended to be read after the first book.

Witchtober – Pumpkin

October is over but that won’t stop the short stories, I’ve got lots more witches planned for you. This short story is spoiler heavy for Phantom and Rook and appears in the novella When Witches Sing.

I stand at the threshold between pebbles and forest, unsure whether to invade the Hedge Witch’s private moment. A violin married to an electronic beat produces a calm and distracting presence that rests in my ear drums. I hum along to the tune, fingers twitching with indecision. I’m sure he knows I’m here, I’m the definition of not subtle.

I tap the side of one ear bud, silencing the music.

Laughter and music echoes through the woods behind me, a distant reminder of the day’s celebrations that are taking place without us. It’s the first Game since Thatch disappeared, or rather the day it would’ve been if the Game still existed. No one has mentioned it, or Thatch, and thus far have smoothly referred to the festival taking place on the mainland by its new name.

The Min Festival.

I close my eyes and breathe, envisioning what waits for us.

Witch House has red and orange banners decorating it and candles burning in every window. Gourds and pumpkins decorate the backyard, those of the painted and carved variety. We grew them ourselves, well, it was all Felix mostly. He has a tendency to bring life to anything he touches.

Buffet tables full of crockpots and random tupperware dishes wait in the backyard too, with a big bonfire that perfumes the woods, accompanied by our family and friends. In a few hours, when dusk hits, we’ll tell stories around the fire. Stories of my family’s life, and the history of where we live, who crafted the earth and watched over the people living upon it.


After a year, that word still stumbles in my mind, trips up my tongue.

I open my eyes.

Arlo hasn’t moved from his vigil with the stone by the river.

I take a step forward. My shoes crunch through dead leaves, twigs, then fall upon pebbles and squish into stinking washed up seagrass. Before coming to Arlo’s side, I press my forehead to the pillar composed of bedrock and fossilized life. An ancient energy courses through my cold veins, electric and intense and overwhelming.

But another energy, one that is younger and warmer, all safe and love and home intertwines with it. I swear that the whisper of ‘please come home,’ escapes through the cracks in the stone. Perhaps the words were poured into the pillar in hopes of reaching someone across space and time, but the universe is rejecting the plea.

I don’t comment on it.

Instead I place my palms upon the cool, craggy stone on either side of my head. Through the fringe across my eyes, the icy blue glow surrounding my hands is plain to see. I exhale, relieved to leave behind some of the frantic energy trapped inside me. Parties, or rather any gathering with lots of people, especially kids, is a guarantee for chaos to ensue.

I ensure to soften the magick pouring into the stone with an intent of ‘hello we are here, we are waiting for you.’

I breathe deeply, leaving the stone where it has stood for thousands upon thousands of years. I turn to Arlo, who has not moved other than to turn his head. He watches me with a soft smile, and his magick touched emerald eyes are glistening.

I stand by his side, and we watch the river.

A loon calls from a small island across the way. Otters disturb the water to the east of us, flipping and playing and chittering. Felix reminds me of an otter, and I’ve told him so. Even if I could forget things, I would never be able to forget how red his face got and how much he smiled despite the fact he didn’t want to.

A small tree limb unwillingly follows the soft current wrapping around the island, drifting to the east, to the otters. The smaller of the two finds it, and it’s not long before they’re both submerging the branch until its leaves flutter under the water, only to let it pop above the surface.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Arlo watching the empty sky. There’s a few storm clouds in the distance where the ravine lies, but otherwise it’s the perfect day for an outside celebration. Sunny, but chilly enough to need a few layers. The breeze is something that caresses you instead of assaulting. It’s when a flock of black necked geese and a protective pair of shepherding wyverns fly overhead that I have a guess as to what he’s thinking.

“Do witches have more than one familiar?” I ask, keeping my gaze trained on the birds.

Arlo chuckles softly, but there’s no humor in it. “Hm, I’m not sure. I don’t know any witches who outlived theirs, but then again, Bosko and I found each other much later in life than most do. He lived a good life, he deserves his peace.”

I nod, tapping my thigh rapidly. Bosko passed in his sleep on the last day of October, a few days ago. While Arlo says it was old age, there’s something that itches my brain, insisting that he’s lying. But why would he lie?

“Are you okay?” I ask in a strangled rush that scrapes my throat. My voice will be a constant reminder of my first family. Arlo has taught me sign over the past few months, which I prefer, usually.

Arlo smiles, lifting a shoulder. “I’m fine. Just thought I’d wait here awhile. In case, you know?” He laughs then, shaking his head. “Pretty silly, isn’t it?”

“No.” I say, using more force than I intended. I soften my tone, or atleast, the best I can. “I’ll wait with you.”

And I do.

We stand together for a long time, then settle for sitting cross-legged on the grassy banks where Thatch’s den once lay hidden. It’s still there, but devoid of its contents. I swing my feet over the shoreline’s edge, trying to think of what to say.

“He’s coming back,” Arlo says, interrupting my train of thought with three barely spoken words that are still somehow infused with a firm confidence.

I nod. “I know.”

“You should go back to the party, they’ll be missing you.” Arlo gestures over his shoulder. “I’m surprised Felix hasn’t showed up yet.”

I don’t tell him that Felix is the one that sent me after him. “And you. They’ll be missing you, too.”

Arlo smiles. “I’m just going to wait a little bit longer.”

When I make it back to the cottage, Felix accosts me immediately. He doesn’t come right into my personal space or say anything, but he practically vibrates with excitement whilst awaiting an update.

I dip my chin. “He’s waiting.”

Felix lets out a breath, swiping a hand through his golden hair which hangs around his ears now. His gaze sweeps across the party, at the witches younger and older than us, and the Misfits who are watching us with intent. Tobias tilts his head and long strands of pink catch the breeze.

Out of everyone, Felix’s gaze turns back to me when he asks, “What do we do?”

My lips push together and I hum deeply, fingers twitching as I contemplate the decorated and well lit cottage. The pumpkins, hanging lanterns, tables of food, red and orange and home. I give the witches my attention briefly, then look back to Felix.

I say, “We wait with him.”

Twenty minutes later I find Arlo in the same spot, overlooking the river and bruised sky. His brow is furrowed and jaw is set tight, his deep thoughts obscure my arrival. I clear my throat before the raucous group approaching startles him.

He jumps to standing anyway, eyes wide as he takes me, and the rest of us, in.

“Silas, what …” Arlo starts, then is reduced to a loss as magick permeates the air, thickening the warm fall evening with ozone and rightness.

Tobias, Felix and the others orchestrate tables, decorations and gourds through the air. Candles dance in the atmosphere above the celebration unfolding on the beach, waiting for a place to land. Kitt and Lindsey set to work on organizing the area, whilst Quentin and Loch are in charge of corralling the children. Doc hauls a massive pumpkin that has yet to be carved on one shoulder and holds their wife’s hand with their free paw. Gowan and Iris crouch before the stone pillar.

Caspian wheels over to us, a wreath of flowers in his lap. Arlo stares down at his best friend, mouth open and hands shaking. “What’s this?” Arlo asks, eyes unable to stop moving between the gathering, Caspian, and me.

“We wait together.” I say, promptly ducking my chin into my shoulder. I rub, the fabric against my cheek distracts me from the unpleasant feeling crawling throughout my nerves.

Caspian nods, offering Arlo the flowers. “Silas’ idea. We should’ve thought of it sooner.”

Arlo’s cheeks flush and he takes the wreath with trembling fingers, sparking green eyes. He releases a shuddering breath, caressing the buttery yellow petal of a sunflower. He stares at it for a moment, then lifts his head and smiles at me. “He’s coming back.”

“I know.”

And we wait together.