The Phoenix Embryo

A dark fantasy for mature readers. Twelve-year-old goddess devotees seek redemption during a seven year exile.

Twelve-and-a-half-year-old Acanthus Breese and his yellow-robed peers have survived without an adult presence for seven years. They’ve scavenged. Endured madness, starvation, and murder after the adults imprisoned and abandoned them without a backward glance. They’ve clawed their way to civilization and questionable sanity at the guidance of one of their own.

Thirteen-year-old Edward Dasheel is a direct descendant of the goddess Staritti and the red phoenix god, Dasheel. Because of Edward’s love and leadership, Acanthus and the other boys know that despite their regretful crime of harming Staritti and driving her away, hope for redemption remains.

Acanthus knows Edward better than anyone; he knows Edward hides dark secrets about their exile, the adults, and specifically about him. So it is terrifying when suddenly the adults return, pushing themselves back into their lives. What do they want after all these years? And why?

The Work

My style is eclectic and eccentric. My dark fantasy is gritty, outside-the-box unique, and especially not for the faint of heart. My urban fantasy/paranormal work is less gritty and added whimsy, but no less unique.

I live in the worlds of dark and light fantasy that eagerly explore quests and the grit of living. Nearly all of my characters are LGBTQ+, (queer/gay) but that does not define who they are or the goals they struggle to reach.

The History

Stories came to me from a very young age. And I loved books. I would often stare at Richard Scarry’s art for hours. Days. And was mesmerized at the infinite mini universes of stories within stories presented.

The music I grew up with varied. Mexican. Hawaiian, and big band. Classical and top 50s and 60s. In the mid 80s, I encountered the new age genre: Ray Lynch’s Deep Breakfast. Steve Nicks was my all time favorite for her unique fantasy allure and the bohemian romantic settings.

What’s Inside My Head

I often muse over why centaurs are categorized as non-people or stupid animals, instead of treated like other sentient mythical beings like vampires, werewolves, and demons.

Conspiracy theories are my soap operas. Paranormal realms and ancient astronauts. Is the moon really hollow or a giant space ship. Is Bigfoot from another dimension, or merely a shy, near-extinct descendant of Giganthropithicus Blacki? All this drives the imagination and creativity. And it certainly opens up new realms to play in.