my wonderful sycophants.

It’s rather wonderful outside of my cage at the moment. Look at me, all with the sun in my face, fuking around, watching those dolla dolla bills creeping in after a successful launch. And truly, you guys are amazing. The support and love for the final book and the entire series as a whole has been wonderful. I always claimed to have the best, fanatic, lunatic sycophants in the world, and these last few weeks have proven it.

So yeah, here I am, chilling and relaxing and genuinely being the laziest fuk ever.

“I don’t like where this is going.” I hear you say and you are spot on. I have done fuk all this last month. Some keen eyed of you might have notice I didn’t even send out my first email this month either.

I have been a lazy fuker and so proud about it.

And then I remember I have an audio book coming out, a secret project that will soon be unveiled, and there’s the small matter of convincing you guys to jump into my Dellerin series.

So with that, I shall begin my grovelling.

How do I say this without sounding like a tortured moan seeking more dolla dolla bills? The reason I’ve been shit with working this month is that a few life issues got in the way. These things happen, and we just get on with them, be they good or bad.

Especially when they are good.

Which these weren’t.

But its all grand.

Besides, that wasn’t the full reason I did nothing.

Manflu was the main cause.

Yep, afflicted and struck down, and it was a close call. I nearly needed some cough syrup and everything. Not the new age cough medicine either. Fuk that peasant shit. We are talking the old school tonic that wipes you out and makes you chase those dragons all through your delirium landscape.

Good times.

So, as we know, Manflu is the worst type flu ever recorded. Moreover, I am the worst type of patient as well. I fight the fuken thing like it has personally kicked my dog, and instead of just climbing into bed and watching Obliterated and Cobra Kai on repeat, I just stumble around my writing camp, sneezing, coughing, writing, and failing.

At least there’s the hot whiskeys.

All joking aside, I was burning the candle so hard since launch day that I was crushed by a minor affliction. As of now, I’m feeling good, back writing, catching up. Working on excuses as to why I’m missing deadlines.

Wow, I’ve just been going on about myself all email without touching on the actual subject of this email.

A few of you have been asking about the Actions of Gods audio book and I have some details.

Also, on a slightly downer of a note, it is with great disappointment that I announce that the wonderful Euan Morton will not be back for The Actions of Gods. He has been a brilliant talent and I wish him nothing but the greatest of successes going forward.

Thank you fine sir!!

On the flippity dippity side, (My wife bet me I’d not put that in- fuk you, Jan!) I can proudly announce that we’ve secured the incredible talents of David Thorpe. Fuk me, this guy’s CV is unreal. Robin Hobb, Raymond E Feist, and Adrian Tchaikovsky to name but a few. He is going to do a fantastic job and I just can’t wait for you guys to see how he is bringing my masterpiece to life. All fuken forty three hours of it. Yep. Forty three fuken hours. That’s like, more than a day.

Sorry Dave.

So what else? They left me little to work with this week. I reckon they knew I was weak and vulnerable and unlikely to natter on for too much.

Wait, they left me a note at the bottom.

Fuk it anyway, here I thought I was genuinely done.

It’s a question, from someone who’s name I can’t remember at all. I’ll call them Dave.

“Dear Rob, this is definitely Dave, your favourite fan, and not someone else who’s identity you’ve failed to remember. My question is as follows. Which character did you model on people from your actual life?”

That’s a great question friend, Dave. Did you know, you also share the name of my new narrator?….I had a joke here but I failed to land. Not to worry, I think the rest of this mail is pretty funny, and super serious.

To answer, and in no particular order.

Erroh is based on my mathematics teacher, Mark. He wasn’t very good. I wanted to get my revenge on him. It was always my intention to kill Erroh in that first card game and make Sigi the star of the book. But, like in maths class, I put all the pieces together and went off on a merry adventure of my own without any cohesion or sanity. QED – Fuk school!

Lea is based on me. We all knew that was coming. Keen eyed of you might notice in chapter seventeen, I strategically show Lea shaving her beard with her left hand. That’s exactly what I do. And I have her hips.

Magnus is based on my old postman. Interesting and angry fuk that he was, I used to film him reading my mail aloud to the neighbourhood cats. It was something to do. I’ll share a link here if they’ll allow. It was eye opening and illegal. But these are the lengths I’ll go for my craft.

Lillium is based on Bear, my dog, hence the constant scratching, her unusual odour and constant fuken barking at night. Seriously Lillium, there’s no one at the door. Shut the fuk up!!!!

Elise is based on my mom, because all mother characters are based on the author’s mother, them is the rules. Also, my mom’s athleticism and finer sword skills, and…um…extra curricular activities since Dad died…. needed to be portrayed forever in literary history.

Then there’s Bren. Hmmmm Bren. Uden is based on Bren, my band's drummer and bestest friend. Why? Because when Bren doesn’t get his dinner, he’s a rightly grumpy fuk. And truly, I think that’s Uden in a hack. I think if Uden was just fed at a proper hour with extra chips on the side, he’d probably burn a lot less women at the stake. Same could be said for Bren really.

Jimpo is based on my dad, but like I said, he died. That was a problem. At least he died before the final draft, so I had time to remove that character altogether. Looking back it was a bit of a nuisance really.

Nothing here. Move along. You won’t care about this one. Especially if your name is Jan. So anyway, Nomi is based on this girl I’ve been seeing for the past few years in secret. One might say, she’s the most accurate of my characters. She has one leg. I nearly put that into the book but didn’t want it to be completely obvious about my extra marital affairs. I should move on. My wife skims most of my mails, but knowing my luck if I leave this paragraph too long she might be drawn to it.

Who else?

Aurora Borealis. Aurora is the girl I want to meet someday and fall madly in love with. I want crazy…….and….hot as fuk…. with an extra helping of seriously crazy. Who wouldn’t be turned on by watching your lover kissing spiders? Or you know, perform such acts that it actually kills with pleasure…..okay, okay, obviously none of the above is true.

Now for the actual truth.

And can I add, that I very much love my Jan, and most importantly, she doesn’t skim my emails.

Just my books.

To answer honestly, which is rare for me, I have based none of my characters on anyone I knew. Oh aye, there are a few nods and Easter eggs for a very select few, but Spark City was the first thing I ever wrote. It was an attempt to see if I could do it. Taking the characteristics from those I knew felt like stealing, and I wanted the entire challenge of creating characters from thin air. I created these characters and their foibles and began to see the world through their eyes alone. As time went on, I got better at it. Probably why I was more confident to really bring them alive from book two onwards.

Also, I didn’t want to base the characters on anyone I knew in case our relationship changed.

Can you imagine if I based a character on my girlfriend and we broke up, but she’s the main love interest in the series? How shitty would that be? I can’t help but feel it has killed the finale in many favourite series’ in the literary world.

Anyway, it is one of the smarter moves I made in my life.

And they have been few.

Lastly, the secret project I’m working on.

There is no magic in this series, but there are beings of near super power in ability.

Though, that could just be in the eye of the beholder.

Right, I’m tired, I love you all.

Take care of yourselves, and each other.

theROB