#gothic fantasy

I brought it down by 1k in fundraising

Конечно я не прав. Эта тенденция и психология индивидуализма началась, конечно, с выродка капитализма - времён концепции идеального объективизма и образа рационального эгоизма. Сорри, насыпал, но без них не обойтись.

И сам чувствую, как это вырастило огромную нарциссическую часть, конечно, на месте травм и самокритики. Да, за это расплачиваюсь и я, и окружающие. Выгодно себя окружать своими, с которыми ваши диагнозы не будут сильно резонировать. Два депрессивных да уходят на дно.

В общем, сегодня такие мысли. 21 век, наше время - абсолютный памятник эгоцентризму, притрушенному инфантилизмом. И становится всё гаже.

Sometimes, all it takes is one scene to decide whether a story is worth your time.

So here's the opening of my dark fantasy novel, Under The Howling Sky.

If it leaves you wanting more... maybe this world is for you. 🖤✨

The night is unnervingly quiet. Not a single sound broke the oppressive silence as a woman cloaked in black walked down the deserted road. The moonlight painted her shadow long and jagged, stretching across the cracked pavement toward the two-story house ahead.

She stopped abruptly, her dark eyes narrowing as she took in the sight. The house seemed untouched by time, its white exterior clean and serene, as though it had been frozen in a picture-perfect moment. Yet, the air around it felt wrong. Heavy. Watching.

At the edge of her vision, something moved. A sleek silver cat leaped down from the branches of an old oak tree, landing soundlessly at her feet. Its jade-green eyes glimmered with unsettling intelligence, locking onto hers.

“You’re late, Valerie," the woman said, her voice soft but full of impatience.

The cat’s tail flicked, unbothered. Then, its body began to shift, the silver fur rippling as it elongated. In seconds, a woman stood in its place, her silver hair cascading down her back like molten light, her green eyes sharp and knowing.

"And yet, you waited," Valerie replied smoothly, her lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. She turned her attention to the house, her gaze sweeping over it with a sharpness that suggested she saw far more than its quaint facade. "You wouldn't have called me here without reason. What have you found, Alina?"

Alina didn’t answer immediately. She studied the house in silence, her expression unreadable. Finally, she spoke, her voice low. “The prey we’ve been hunting was here.”

Valerie arched a delicate brow. “And?”

“This is where the Lunar Moon battle happened,” Alina continued. “But the ground bears no scars of it. No blood. No trace of magic. Nothing.” Her voice hardened. “The entire event has been erased, completely wiped from memory. And the town?” She gestured around them. “No one remembers a thing. Not even whispers. It’s as if it never happened.”

Valerie’s gaze snapped back to the house, her smile vanishing. “Memory magic on that scale… that’s no ordinary spell.”

“It isn’t,” Alina said grimly. “And it gets worse. The house was protected by something… ancient. The kind of magic that doesn’t just fade into history; it was buried. Forgotten for a reason.”

For a moment, Valerie said nothing, her eyes scanning the house. Then her lips tightened, and she murmured, “Something that shouldn’t even exist.”

Alina’s hand flexed at her side. “Can you break it?”

Valerie tilted her head, considering. “Perhaps. But not alone. Whoever cast this wasn’t just powerful; they were careful. It’ll take both of us.”

The two witches moved closer, their movements precise and purposeful. They stopped at the edge of the house’s invisible barrier, the air rippling faintly like a mirage. Without a word, they began to chant.

Valerie's power surged first, spilling out of her hands in smooth, ethereal, liquid silver light. Alina followed, her magic oozing forth as thick, coiling black smoke. The two forces intertwined, clashing and grinding against the age-old spell.

The resistance is immediate. The air grew heavy and cold, pressing down on them like a lead weight. The barrier pushed back, crackling with raw energy, lashing out as if it were alive.

Alina gritted her teeth as her magic surged harder. “It’s fighting us.”

"More than that," Valerie murmured, her voice tense. Her focus didn't waver, but a shadow of unease passed over her face. "Do you feel that?"

It came then, a ripple, dark and cold, snaking through the air like an unseen predator. It brushed against their souls, and for a moment, Alina faltered, her chant breaking.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her gaze snapping to Valerie. “Dark souls,” she whispered.

Valerie’s lips thinned; her expression grim. "Bound here. Guarding it. This… this shouldn't even be possible."

The presence grew more assertive, circling them like a pack of wolves in the dark. Cold fingers brushed against their magic, testing, probing. For a moment, it felt as though the darkness itself had eyes watching them.

“This isn’t just ancient magic,” Valerie said, her voice low and edged with fear. “This is something else. Something far older. Something that was never meant to be touched.”

Alina’s expression hardened. “Then we break it. Whatever it takes.”

The two witches poured their energy into the spell, their voices rising as their magic collided with the barrier in a final, brutal push. With a deafening crack, the spell shattered, its force sending shockwaves through the air.

The oppressive weight lifted, and silence fell. But what the two witches saw next froze them where they stood.

Dozens of witches, their bodies limp and lifeless, were suspended in the air. Wine-red magic coiled around their necks like nooses, holding them aloft. Their eyes glowed a deep, unnatural crimson, staring out into the void.

Alina’s breath hitched, her voice a whisper. “They’re ours.”

Valerie didn't respond. Her jade-green eyes were locked on the witches, her ordinarily calm expression shattered by disbelief. These were powerful witches, members of their coven, and they had been slaughtered like animals.

Alina rose into the air, her cloak billowing behind her as she moved closer to the nearest corpse. The witch’s decaying features were twisted in agony, her skin brittle and cracked.

“She’s rotting,” Alina said quietly, her voice like ice. “Their minds were destroyed. Trapped, broken, and then strangled to death. Whoever did this didn’t just kill them; they tortured them.”

“This magic…” Valerie began, her voice trembling faintly. “It’s forbidden. This isn’t something passed down through bloodlines or written in grimoires. This is older than us. Older than the coven itself.”

Alina’s eyes darkened, her fists clenching. “Our prey did this.”

Alina descended slowly, her eyes narrowing as her gaze lingered on the suspended witches. “This wasn’t just murder. This was a message.”

"Yes," Valerie replied, her tone steady but with an edge of cold amusement. "A challenge, perhaps. It seems our prey wants us to know who we're dealing with. This will be… interesting."

Alina’s black eyes glimmered with a quiet, seething rage. “It’s not just about catching them now. It’s about vengeance.”

Valerie’s smile returned, darker this time. “Agreed. Let’s make them pay.”

🖤 If you've made it this far, thank you for stepping into my world.

🌙 Under The Howling Sky is a dark fantasy filled with witches, werewolves, forgotten history, ancient magic, dangerous secrets, and a slow-burning mystery waiting to unravel.

Survival Is Not Freedom.

She saved the kingdom from extinction. She did not give it back.

Nereth Varess wins the war, opens the granaries and keeps the human population alive—but survival comes under occupation, armed supervision and a crown that no longer belongs to them.

Rovan remains king. He does not remain free.

The Black Concord is a complete adult dark gothic fantasy duology about political conquest, undead memory, morally compromised love and the difference between being protected and being ruled.

Begin with The Kingdom She Broke — Book One by Wonders Workshop.

She Took His Kingdom.

She did not come to save his kingdom.

Nereth Varess crossed the border with an army, a buried history and every intention of taking the crown from Rovan IV Theryn.

She wins the war. He survives the defeat. And the king she refuses to kill may be the only person capable of keeping her new empire standing.

The Black Concord is a complete adult dark gothic fantasy duology featuring political conquest, an undead queen, morally compromised romance and a villain who never surrenders her victory for love.

Begin with The Kingdom She Broke — Book One by Wonders Workshop.