This chapter contains graphic subject mater, reader discretion is advised Heat shimmered off the blacktop as Helena made her way down...

I’ve always shied away from writing characters that weren’t, on some level, related to me. What I mean by this is any character that wasn’t a straight white male. I learned quickly that this leads to very one dimensional stories (or worse, retelling the same story just repackaged.) I realised that writing diverse characters is not only essential to my success as a writer, but it’s crucial to my actual growth as an author. But I was faced with a daunting question: what gives

When Tyson woke up the darkness seemed alive. Shapes formed and dissolved in the darkness and for a moment he felt like there was someone...

“Your unit is dead Tyson, suicide.” Humphry’s tone softened a note at the last bit, an honest attempt at sympathy.