I’m absolutely no good at talking about myself and putting myself out there, so I apologize in advance if what you’re about to read will have you grimacing and snorting to yourself like a weirdo in public (what, I’m not projecting? What do you mean?)
I’m a 29 y/o Dane living in Denmark with my Minnesotan husband. I recently finished my MA in English and Cultural Studies with one semester spent in the US. English is my second language. I started out writing English fanfiction at the age of sixteen. I no longer write fanfiction, but I still avidly read it. My love of writing began long before this, however, when my grandma let me borrow her typewriter. I wrote my first piece about a rabbit returning home late for dinner. I still have it. Somewhere.
I’ve finished several original works since the age of 21, but all of them are crap save for the last three. Those ones I’m actively editing and/or querying. One is plain YA, another is an Adult Fairytale Retelling, and the last is Adult Contemporary. I fly pretty wide, but fantasy is my jam, so all my stories fall somewhere on that spectrum. These can be the stories you help me polish to perfection while I help polish yours to the same shiny-blimey perfection! (read: HALP MWEE!?)
Fantasy. Romance. Historical. Sci-fi. Classics. Mysteries. Really, anything that’s not plain old crime. The Scandinavian crime wave in literature is… exhausting.
FAVE AUTHORS include (in whatever random order I remember them in):
Jay Kristoff, Laurell K. Hamilton, Naomi Novik, Tamora Pierce, Katherine Arden, Stephen King, Neil Gaiman, Holly Black, Roxane Gay, Daphne Du Maurier, Lisa See, Diana Gabaldon, William Faulkner, Angela Carter, Diana Wynne Jones AAAAAAAAAAND I’ll stop myself now. Sorry.
Eh, crime? I don’t like crime (the genre).
I’m also not the best for love triangles, but that largely depends on how the MC handles it.
Otherwise, I’m pretty open to anything ranging from violence to sexual content.
Seventeen-year-old Ree is an herbalist who uses her skills in medicine to treat her fellow villagers in the swamp. In return for her cures, the villagers ignore Ree’s questionable past. But when a group of soldiers arrive in search of an escaped fugitive, Ree’s past may end all hope of a future. The green-tinted blood in her veins is the mark of those who practice Greenworkery – using magic to tamper with the laws of nature. Ree swore off the illegal magic after it claimed her mother’s life, but simply being born a Greenbleeder is enough for the soldiers to kill her at the slightest misstep. Afraid to make a misstep, she leaves the village and goes deer hunting in the woods where she stumbles across an unconscious girl. She’s around Ree’s age. And, shockingly, she bleeds green. She has to be the escaped fugitive. Driven by suspicion and sympathy alike, Ree treats the girl’s injuries, but when the girl awakens, she claims to remember nothing. Ree must now make a choice. If she wants to save herself and her new friend from certain death by the hand of the prowling soldiers, she’ll have to embrace the green in her blood that she’s feared and denied for most of her life, the selfsame magic that once destroyed her mother.
I hadn’t seen living horses in years, only the skulls of dead ones bobbing peacefully in the brackish water of the swamp. When the foreign travelers arrived in Peatmouth from the mountains, they sat astride their horses with a confidence that crippled the large animals, weighing them down.
“What d’you think they’re here for?” asked Garrick, chewing a blade of grass. I caught his eyes. They were the same as my own and everyone else’s out here in the swamp. Damp, dark and dank. Skin, eyes – and souls.
“Not trade,” I answered. “You can be sure of that.”
“I pity the horses,” he said, blade moving in time with the words. I reached forward to pluck it from between his teeth. He smiled sweetly and plucked a new one, popping it into his mouth.
“I pity us,” I said, “but we have other things to do than gossip.” I plopped down next to him on the sun-warmed ground. It being high summer, it wasn’t rare for tradesmen to travel here, but the presence of the horses boded trouble. Whether Wetlander, Woodlander or Mountainfolk, no self-respecting tradesman brought cumbersome horses into the treacherous swamp. I unfolded my damp, muddy cloth on the ground and displayed the fresh spoils of the morning.
“Is that spatterdock?” he asked, the new blade of grass moving mockingly.
“And watercress. Lots. See?” I angled the cloth and its contents toward him.
He pursed his lips. “Not as exciting as spatterdock.”
Shrugging, I began dividing the plants into two piles. “Makes better barters than spatterdock.”
“No soaps today? They make the best barters.”
My hands slowed, then resumed their work. “The last batch didn’t turn out well. I’ll see if I can’t trade with Adair and make tinctures instead. If his stock is good enough.” I dumped a handful of unexciting watercress into Rick’s lap. Resources were not sparse in the wetlands, but they were hard to find and not altogether safe to get a hold of.
I’ve got two other projects completely drafted/nearly drafted!
AMBER ISLE is an adult contemporary fantasy written in multiple first-person POVs. The remote, maritime islands of indigenous Valvik are inspired by a blend of Danish, Greenlandic and Faroese culture. Atmospherically, the novel is along the lines of Maggie Stiefvater’s The Scorpio Races. Thematically, with the memories of people bound and hidden away inside handcrafted amber jewelry, the novel draws parallels to Bridget Collins’ The Binding.
IF I WERE YOU is an adult retelling of Beauty and the Beast. A tight mix of magic, romance and mystery, think Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca set to a Loreena McKennitt soundtrack. To uphold the suspense and mystery, plus in keeping with the original fairytale, the story is told from Iris’ perspective alone.
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