Some people collect stamps. I collect morally questionable characters, ancient grudges, and creatures that bite back.

I’ve been obsessed with dragons since childhood. Not the friendly, cartoon kind that politely roast marshmallows, but the ancient, world-shaping kind that create empires, destroy civilizations, and probably judge your life choices from a distance. That obsession never really left. It just evolved into a full-blown fixation on vampires, demon lore, and the uncomfortable gray space where good intentions go to die.

I write stories where heroes aren’t clean, villains aren’t wrong enough, and everyone is carrying something they probably shouldn’t. Moral ambiguity isn’t a theme here. It’s the default setting.

When I’m not building worlds full of bloodlines, curses, and power struggles, I spend my time raising peacocks. Yes, actual peacocks. Turns out nothing keeps you grounded like a flock of birds that look like royalty and behave like chaos. They’re loud, dramatic, and convinced they’re the main character. Which, honestly, makes them perfect research material.