Hi, this is Rinku. I was born and brought up in India. I work as a content writer in a private firm where I write articles and social media posts for marketing. I write fantasy and magical realism/fabulism for MG/YA/NA age-categories.
I love traveling and visiting historical places. I spend holidays binge-watching movies and TV shows with a steady supply of tea/coffee or a steamy bowl of noodles.
I read across multiple genres. Neil Gaiman and Haruki Murakami are my favorite authors. I’m a sucker for magical realism and fantasies and love reading books that have something different to offer.
Not a fan of horror, erotica, crimes and murder mysteries.
Seagulls of the Twin Cliffs are obsessed with seashells and anyone who’s not into shell-business is judged so badly. Bobo has no interest in shells and he’s willing to explore other opportunities, but ends up invoking the wrath of elders for being different than the rest. The situation comes to a head when the age-old tradition of collecting shells revives the ancient demon of the Dark waters. Perhaps, Bobo; (who’s now expelled out of the community) knows the way to stop the demon before it’s too late.
Our story began that day when the young gulls of my colony were going to bring their first shells. It was a serious business, alright? Shells were precious.
See, it’s simple math. The more the number of shells in a nest, the higher the respect a seagull had on the Cliffs. Less the number of shells, well, trust me Tweety aunty would have made your life miserable.
I didn’t want my life to be miserable. Nobody does. So, when that much-awaited and decisively-fateful day arrived, all I could think about was frothing northern waves and shells swinging with the water current.
Everyone had high expectations from me, because why not? Also, I was Master Gabby’s daughter and was trained for that day all my life. My father was going to lead us to the northern shoreline, which was about 200 miles from the Cliffs.
A part of me said I was going to be fine, and then there was this other part that churned my gizzard and sent tottering down my feet.
“Runa,” my Dad said in his gentle voice, “don’t worry dear, you’ll do it. And mind my words you’ll do it better than anybody else.”
“You sure Dad?” I asked, my wings fluttered even though I wasn’t moving them.
“I trust you.” He said, “You must believe me when I say you’re my favorite student. I don’t say this just because you’re my daughter; I say this because I’ve trained you.”
I’m working on multiple projects and looking for a writer friend for a long term CP relationship.
Bridge of offerings- NA magical realism) It’s my Nanowrimo project and ready to go for draft-2.
Where do the lost cats go?- MG fantasy- working on the first draft
I’m also working on a YA fantasy inspired by ancient Indian history.
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