Growing up, I always imagined I’d become an author - someone who could build entire worlds from nothing, spinning stories people would cherish. Every time I picked up a pen or touched a keyboard, the ideas came rushing in - uncontrollable and vivid like red wine spilling across a pale carpet. They soaked in deeply, impossible to erase. But then life happened. I fell in love, fell out of it, and fell right back in again - caught in a loop that felt like a worn-out record, skipping through the same notes. I bought a house. I worked full-time. The rhythm of daily life drowned out the voice of my writing for a while. Now, I’ve found my way back to it. The fear of judgment? Gone. The hesitation about how my stories might be received? Faded. I write now not for approval, but for joy - for the sheer love of creating. And if others find something meaningful in the worlds I’ve built, then that’s a gift I’m honoured to share. These are my stories. These are my universes I’ve created. I hope you find as much delight in reading them as I’ve found in bringing them to life.