An ancient map spread across a writer's desk. Apparently, even the Darkest Demon needs a passport. I created Penumbria in Austria. Since then, its Demons have crossed into the United States, the United Kingdom, Germany, the Netherlands, Belgium and, most recently, Sweden. All without asking my permission or offering me a place in their luggage. Which is a shame, because I love to travel. Soon, Ashan, Sinia, Carlos, Mo, Rodon, Thorn and Sadness will have travelled further than

Map of the dark romantasy world of Penumbria, it started empty. Penumbria grew slowly at first. When I began writing, all I wanted was one scene. Because of that, there was only enough world for that scene to exist. A stream flowed outside a magical veil, beneath which the last survivors had found protection. Nearby, a crossroads had become a village out of necessity. It was a small place held together by routine, familiarity and a peace that had lasted far too long. That was

Inside my mind, dreams come to life. Dreams are rarely handed to us. I think most of us know that. And yet, somewhere inside us, there is often still a small hope that one day everything will suddenly fall into place. That there will be a moment when we reach the top of the mountain, look around and realise that we have finally arrived. The struggle will stop. The doubt will disappear. Someone will ring a bell, throw confetti into the air and officially announce that the drea

The bookshelf above my desk holding the completed Penumbria series. Releasing the final part of the Realms of Penumbria trilogy is a huge milestone. But for a moment, I need to pull the camera away from the greatness of that one small moment. Because for an author, the journey begins – and ends – much earlier than release day. My journey might have taken even longer than most. I had to learn not only how to hold the tone of an entire story, but also how to absorb a whole coll

Their footprints are everywhere. They say writing the book is the difficult part. But to be honest, once I threw out the rules that kept holding me back and found my rhythm, writing was no longer the problem. Of course, it takes incredible focus to finish a story that reaches 450,000 words by the end. And of course, there are days when I curse my screen a million times over. But writing itself doesn’t cost me much. I could do it for years and never grow tired. It is what come

When desire is palpable. In romantasy, desire and plot are often discussed as though they are two separate creatures competing for space on the same page. Too much plot, and readers may stop feeling the romance. Too much desire, and the story risks becoming a sequence of intimate scenes occasionally interrupted by somebody saving the realm. But when the balance is right, desire does not interrupt the plot. It changes it. The Less Technical Part This is not supposed to be anot

Long before we learn how to write our own stories, other people begin writing them for us. You are clever. You are difficult. You are talented — but not talented enough. You could do this. You could never do that. And because we are young when they begin, we often mistake their opinions for facts. Those words settle inside us. Quietly, at first. Then they become part of the way we see ourselves. We repeat them without remembering who said them. I am not clever enough. I have

There was no grand decision. No particular morning when I sat down, opened my laptop and declared: Today, I become an author. The truth about day one is far more complicated than that. I have been trying to decide when mine happened. Looking backwards, searching for the moment when one day became day one. All I know is that it began with those two words. One day. The First Possibility My thoughts travel all the way back to my German teacher in middle school—a man who seemed t

When did I become all these different characters in my own life? And why am I doing it? Author. Publisher. Designer. Social media expert. Marketing student. Employee. Wife. Dog mum. And, occasionally, a woman wandering through the house asking where she put the brush. I get up at seven o’clock these days. From bed, I go straight to my little corner in the living room and open either my laptop or my tablet, depending on which persona has decided to begin the day. Then I get to

Before there was Silver Forest Press, before I knew anything at all about publishing, there was Sinia and Ashan. (Light spoilers ahead.) I sat down and wrote a scene. A single scene about a woman carrying water from a riverbed, through a magical veil, and into a crossroads turned village out of necessity. Because the world beyond it was too dangerous. That was all it was meant to be. One scene, written only to set up my new laptop and get a feel for it. I stopped there. Got u

Dark fantasy found me long before I decided to write it. I have always been drawn to worlds where beauty lives beside danger, where monsters are not always the enemy, and love is rarely gentle. Those are the realms I create: shadowed, romantic, sometimes brutal, but never without heart. So, if you are curious about the stories behind the Realms of Penumbria – and the darker worlds still waiting beyond them – come a little further into the forest. When the path leads into dark