dispatches from the desk
Finally. After far too many late nights tinkering with headers, flourishes, and glow effects, the site is exactly how I want it. Every link works. Every font feels right. It’s quiet, polished, and ready to welcome readers.
Which means I’m officially out of excuses.
Time to stop pretending web design counts as writing and actually, you know… write.
Damn it.
The short story collection is nearly ready for layout—final edits are in, and the cover is brewing. Expect a release announcement soon.
Three thousand years of rule leaves beautiful scars. The Pelagion Empire, vast and luminous, strains against old fractures: separatists in shadow, whispers of revolt, and twelve matriarchal houses threading loyalty and treachery like embroidery.
When a House leader falls, her son rises to take the mantle—unprepared, untested, and suddenly standing where power is dangerous. Yet the true threat isn't political. It's older. Hungrier. Written in the night between stars.
The night was thick with fog when a warm light flickered somewhere past the ordinary streets. Follow it far enough and you’ll find Blackthorne Mews—a Victorian-inspired miniature street scene where each window hums with its own story.
I’m laying out walls and wiring like a watchmaker building a secret city: crawlspaces for the LEDs, a pub that breathes, and a tea room that remembers laughter. It’s a project that began with curiosity and turned into world-building in miniature.
The teaser episode dropped across platforms today. The signal’s out there—listen carefully.
The cauldron’s bubbling again—holiday cookies, new brews, and a fair bit of mischief. I’m testing this year’s cookie lineup and coaxing syrup out of fruit like a potion-maker on a deadline. The kitchen smells like butter, sugar, and nostalgia with attitude.
Crone’s Kitchen is shifting this season: probably no full website, but a cozy corner on Ko-fi where recipes, potions, and witchy musings can simmer together.