Countless moons have cast light upon my nightly adventures, marking the passage of time, and in their silent dance, I poured my heart into the pages of “Dirty Business.” It was a labour of six long years, six years filled with passion, pain, and unyielding determination. A year has slipped away since I dared to share those raw, unfiltered emotions with the world.
Now, as I immerse myself in the ink-stained tapestries of the second and third books in the series, I confess: my tales aren’t intricately woven fantasies spun from whimsy. No, they are something far more profound. They are the echoes of real lives, the cries of the silenced, woven meticulously into the fabric of fiction. Each word is a thread of truth, each page a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.
In every line, I see the faces of those who have suffered, the voices that have been stifled, and the souls that have endured. Their stories, though masked in the guise of fiction, are achingly real. Each sentence bears the weight of their struggles, their triumphs, and their unwavering hope for a better tomorrow.
With every stroke of the pen, I breathe life into characters inspired by the brave souls I’ve encountered on this journey. Their pain is my pain, their strength fuels my determination. For in these pages, I find solace, purpose, and the unwavering belief that storytelling can spark a revolution of empathy, compassion, and understanding.
So, as I continue to weave these narratives, I do so with a heart heavy with the burden of truth and a spirit lifted by the power of storytelling. In every chapter, I strive to honour the resilience of those whose stories deserve to be told, even in the guise of fiction. Their courage guides my pen, their voices echo in my words, and their legacy lives on in the pages of my books.
Whit heartfelt gratitude this particularly applies to the silent voices who are no longer among us.