I wrote my very first "novel" (term used dubiously), when I was 13. It was titled Talk to the Paw, and it followed a group of talking dogs taking on an animal experimentation centre that, somehow, was turning strays into werewolves. 

Suffice to say, I've evolved a little since then. My writing is still very much based in the fantastical, though slightly more grounded and grittier than happy-go-lucky talking canines. 

In the 17 years since that writing effort (damn, that makes me feel old), I've written numerous other novels that were deservedly filed in the deepest recesses of my documents. 

My upcoming debut novel, which I'm self-publishing, is Acts of Deicide, a standalone grimdark fantasy that follows an immortal protagonist who wants to die in the aftermath of her god's murder.

For now, I'm focusing on what I like to think of as my "main" fantasy series, Infinite's End, a planned 6-book saga with 3 books already written. Inspired by the dark realism of George R. R. Martin and Joe Abercrombie, and the grimdark tones of Anna Stephens and Brian Staveley, it's probably the best thing I've written so far (though that's hardly a bold claim). 

I have the unfortunate distinction of working as a barista for 10 years and counting, though hope to one day be able to take up writing full time. The free coffee on shift is fantastic, but the rude customers certainly are not. 

And, before I forget, I'm also the human companion to a very cute dog. He may not be an armoured dog of war, but he thinks he is, and that's all that matters.