Buccaneer Jones and The Fires of Peace – Chapter 1.

A cannonball crashed through the wall of Buccaneer Jones’ tiny cabin. He yelped and fell out of his bunk, then frantically scurried underneath it. He stared through the hole in the wall at the raging ocean outside, and the pirate ship that was rapidly approaching.

There was a thunderous noise from above as The Singing Seal returned fire with its own cannons. Buccaneer grabbed a padded hat from a hook and rammed it onto his head, the thick material covering his ears to muffle the sounds. He picked up a dog-eared old botanical encyclopedia then shuffled back beneath his bunk and tried his hardest to ignore the battle around him, even as sea water sloshed into his cabin from the hole and the smell of gunpowder swirled around him. 

The two ships closed the distance until men and women could swing from one to another with cutlasses gripped between their teeth. Now shouts and laughter filled the air, punctuated with pistol shots and the clang of swords.

Buccaneer sighed and started to hum loudly. Despite his name, Buccaneer didn’t like fighting. In fact, he hated it, just like he hated his name. To his friends he was just Bucc. Not that he had many. Bucc was considered odd by most people. He didn’t like violence, couldn’t stand loud noises, and he willingly washed at least once a week. How were you supposed to treat someone who didn’t like to fight, pillage, and drink?  Continue reading

The Sword Summoner: History Repeats – Chapter 1.

Birds scattered as the old morning bell began to toll, its deep echoes ringing throughout the city of Pastrino. The noise was met by stirrings as the city below began to awaken and the people rose from slumber to begin their day’s work. All except one that is: Trey Sted. He was still fast asleep like he was most mornings.

People were amazed at how he could sleep through the morning bell because it could wake up everyone else in Pastrino, even those on the outskirts of the sprawling city. Ironically, his house stood in the shadow of the bell tower on the wide hill that marked the centre of the city. It left any who were that close to the tower with ringing ears when it chimed, but Trey never even stirred from his sleep.

“Trey, wake up! Trey, get out of bed!” his mother called from the doorway. Trey didn’t move. His cheap woollen cover was wrapped tightly around him like a cocoon even though it was the middle of summer. His mother called again. “Trey, get up now or you’ll be sorry.” Still he lay motionless. “I warned you, Trey.” Continue reading

New story – Chapter 1. Why must it be a pirate’s life for me?

The first draft of chapter one of a new story I’m working on about magical pirates. All feedback welcome.


A cannonball crashed through the wall of Buccaneer Jones’ tiny cabin. He yelped and fell out of his bed. Through the newly made hole he could see out to the raging ocean outside, and the pirate ship that was rapidly approaching.

There was a crash from above as the ship that Buccaneer called home, The Singing Seal, returned fire. Buccaneer grabbed a padded hat from a hook and rammed it onto his head, the thick material covering his ears to muffle the sounds. He picked up a dog-eared old book about different types of plants and tried his hardest to ignore the battle around him.

The two ships closed the distance until men and women swung from one to another with cutlasses in their mouths. Now shouts and laughter filled the air, punctuated with the clang of swords and pistol shots.

Buccaneer sighed and started to hum loudly. Despite his name, Buccaneer didn’t like fighting. In fact he hated it, just like he hated his name. To his friends he was just Bucc. Not that he had many. Bucc was considered odd by most people. He didn’t like violence, couldn’t stand loud noises, and he willingly washed at least once a week. How where you supposed to treat someone who didn’t like to fight, pillage, and drink?

For you see, Buccaneer Jones was the son of two pirates. That was nothing special though. In Hylantia everybody was a pirate. It was a world of vast seas and tiny island. A place where humans lived on ships and wandered the waves in search of adventure.

Bucc’s door was kicked open and his parents rushed into the cabin. His father was tall and gangly, with a bald head and a missing thumb. He held a pistol in his good hand and a modified cutlass in his other. A black snake with spiked fins was draped around his neck.

His mother was a stout woman with a mallet in each hand. Where his dad wore nothing but an open jacket and shorts, Bucc’s mum was decked out in an array of layers that were all different colours. Perched on her shoulder was a six legged cat with horns.

“What are you still doing in here, Buccaneer?” asked his dad. “Come quick. Big Tim got a splinter in his eye. We need you to man the cannon.”

“You’re not serious.”

His mum grabbed him by the hand. “It’s time for you to become a real pirate. When the adrenaline starts pumping through you, you’ll realise what you’re missing out on.” Continue reading

Announcement – Thorns of the Shadow: Blood, Blades and Bacon

I am proud to officially announce my new book, Thorns of the Shadow: Blood, Blades and Bacon.

Twins KT and Kai are thrown into a hidden society of monsters and magic when their family are abducted by a cannibalistic witch hellbent on world domination. Aided only by a sarcastic hunter, they must learn how to fight fast before they become merely two more corpses in an increasingly hostile world.

Thorns of the Shadow is an urban fantasy filled with face punching action and off the wall humour.

Keep your eyes open for a release date announcement soon.

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Editing your story.

I am bad at editing. I don’t plan my stories and find that I don’t like rereading my own work. The story is only ever fresh to me in that brief moment between conception and preservation, between the initial idea and its translation to the page. Because of this I find the process of going through the work after the fact so much more difficult. Growing a story without clear structure is all fair and good but it is easy to create plot-holes while an excited flurry of wring leaves you prone to typos.

As such, while editing is often dry, demoralising and not remotely creative, it is a vital thing that all writers need to be able to do well. Being bad at it, I have spent a lot of time learning how to get better, some of it by proactively going and reading advice from other writers and editors, others by doing the wrong things and learning from my mistakes. I am still far, far from perfect but since I am in the editing phase myself at the moment, I felt that it might be worth presenting what I have learned for others in my position. Continue reading