G’day. I’m not really a pet anymore, but you might as well keep calling me Pet. It’s not like I’m gunna tell you my name anyway. And if I sound stroppy, well, I am. First, I was threatened. Now, someone has cut off my house from the human world and left my emotional support vampire on the human side. On the inside, it’s just me and an emotionally compromised fae; outside, a closed arena in the world Behind, where everyone is out to kill us and a few of that everyone might actually be capable of it.
Yep. The Heirling Trials have begun, and it seems like it’s either be king or be dead when it comes to the world Behind…
W.R. Gingell is a Tasmanian author of urban fantasy, fairy-tale retellings, and madcap science fiction who doesn’t seem to be able to write a book without a body suddenly turning up. She solemnly swears that all such bodies are strictly fictional in nature.
W.R. spends her time reading, drinking a truly ridiculous amount of tea, and slouching in front of the fire to write. Like Peter Pan, she never really grew up, and is still occasionally to be found climbing trees.