I grew up in the suburbs of Brisbane, Australia, where stories were my escape long before I ever thought of writing my own. I was the kid who stayed up too late with a torch under the blankets, lost in worlds full of danger, loyalty, and impossible choices. As I got older, that love of storytelling never faded — it just grew deeper, shaped by the people I met, the work I did, and the history I couldn’t stop thinking about. These days I live in a small regional town, balancing blue‑collar work with the worlds I build after hours. There’s something grounding about that rhythm — the physicality of the day, the imagination of the night. It keeps me connected to the kind of characters I write: ordinary people thrown into extraordinary circumstances, doing their best with what they have. World War II has always fascinated me, not just for the scale of the conflict, but for the human stories inside it — resilience, sacrifice, fear, courage, and the way war reshapes people in ways they never expect. Writing in first person lets me explore those moments up close. It lets readers feel the weight of a decision, the sting of loss, the spark of hope, the bond between rider and dragon as something living and real. Fire Over Europe is my debut novel, the first in a planned 6–7 book series that blends historical realism with dragon warfare. It’s a story about war, yes — but more than that, it’s about the people who carry its cost. The friendships that hold them together. The grief that threatens to break them. The courage that survives even when everything else burns away. I write because stories shaped me. I write because history still has things to teach us. And I write because, sometimes, the only way to understand the world is to imagine it differently
