Dear __,

I’m delighted to share ASTRAL BLOOMS (98,000 words), a queer, cosmic YA fantasy novel with series potential that combines the Ghibliesque coming-of-age quest of Axie Oh’s The Floating World, the high-stakes ecological adventure of Tig Wallace’s Storm Bringer, and the weaponised psychic magic of Moira Buffini’s Songlight. Plus a touch of Dune.

The desert folk’s homeland is gone. Their past is lost to the wind. All they have left is what’s written in the stars.

Si’Vas Ash has been hearing tales of forbidden magic ever since his family fled from their drought-ridden home. But after witnessing with his own eyes a shapeshifter transform into a bird, he starts to seek out more than just stories, accidentally awakening an ancient cosmic force that grants him access to other people’s thoughts. At first, he uses his knowledge to manipulate customers of his parents’ stall, but is soon kidnapped in revenge for his cheating ways, only to be rescued by a misfit group of rebels who try to enlist him in their plot to overthrow the ruling Council. But Si'Vas has other plans.

While hiding his magic and origins, he grows to trust the caring, horse-headed Falres, and accompanies him and the mysterious Xantos to the capital to find his parents. As he navigates the Council’s treacherous canals, fends off the shapeshifter in pursuit and learns about his companions' tragic past, he must choose between returning to the safety of his former life, or fighting for the survival of the very land itself. But if he fails to find the traitor in their midst, he will not only lead his new comrades to ruin — he will lose all hope of finding his way home.

[Bio/personalisation is the same.]

Chapter One

The couple were a problem.

The sky was still only lilac dawn and they were already at the pump. The woman was standing by as the man worked the silver handle with all his might. But the spout stayed as dry as the empty stream nearby.

I was sitting on one my buckets at the edge of the clearing, my throat aching with thirst at the scrape of the metal. If only they would notice the little catch at its side…

Ma had drilled to me a wariness of the Bedasti locals ever since the day we’d first arrived eight turns ago — as many as I’d spent living amongst the dunes and dust of Rinsift. But I also knew how she’d be if I came back late with the water. ‘We’ll be the last in town now,’ she’d cry. ‘The last to pitch our stall, and without shadow of a doubt, it’ll be some dark corner by the low-town entrance.’ Selling Pa’s wooden carvings was how we made our living, and if we didn’t stand out from the rest, we’d soon fall back to the desperate state we’d arrived in. Or so Ma said.

I couldn’t risk it. I had to intervene. The man was now kicking the pump as if he could somehow knock the water out of the ground. These people... I softened my voice, put on my best smile, and spoke. ‘Pardon, good sir?’

He shot me a look, his sunken eyes daring me to speak again. But I had no choice. ‘There’s a knob at the back…’

He muttered something under his breath as the woman placed a hand on his arm.
‘I think he means this?’ she said, reaching around to turn the valve. In an instant, the water began to flow.

The man pushed her away and ran his hands under the fresh torrent, wetting his balding head before splashing her. I flinched in protest as the water fell to the earth, but he looked completely unbothered — until he caught me watching and his face grew dark again. ‘Best mind your own now, son. Else you might find yourself in a spot of trouble.’

My heart quickened at the venom in his voice. This was exactly the kind of situation I was meant to avoid. And yet, something in me wouldn’t let it go. ‘I was only trying to help.’
The man’s eyes grew wide and his nostrils flared. ‘Tell you what would really help is if you went back where you’re from. Filthy Bloodsapper.’

It was as if the air itself grew thick. The woman tutted. The words stung. The only people I’d ever heard say them aloud were other desert folk as they rolled their eyes at the locals’ ignorance. But here was this man, wielding them like a weapon.

The lie, for that’s what it was, said that in the height of the last Great Drought, the people of Rinsift had turned to drinking each other’s blood to stay alive.