The End, the Beginning, and Everything In Between

For a long time, Queen’s Road lived only in my head.

Then it lived in notebooks, half-written scenes, late-night documents, and those strange in-between moments where inspiration arrives while you’re doing something entirely ordinary. It grew slowly, quietly, and often when I was already tired.

And now, somehow, it exists as a real book.

Reaching this point feels like standing in two places at once. It feels like an ending. The close of months and months of writing, editing, formatting, revising, second-guessing, and starting again. But it also feels like the very beginning of something new. A journey that no longer belongs only to me.

There were long nights spent writing when the house was quiet. Moments of inspiration that appeared out of nowhere and refused to be ignored. There were weeks of editing that asked me to look more closely, to be braver, and to let go of what was not serving the story. And there were, without question, multiple late nights on KDP, adjusting margins, re-uploading files, and trying to get the cover just right.

If you’ve ever published a book, you’ll know there is a particular kind of determination that comes with that stage. The kind where you tell yourself “just one more tweak” and suddenly realise it is far later than planned.

Through all of it, Queen’s Road stayed the same at its heart.

It has always been a quiet, character-led story. A story about an ordinary street and the people who live there. About what happens when the world begins to fracture, not with explosions, but with small, unsettling changes that creep too close to home. And about the families we build, the loyalties we hold, and the choice to stay when leaving might be easier.

Seeing the cover for the first time, knowing that the story now has a face, was one of those moments that stopped me in my tracks. Not because everything felt finished, but because it suddenly felt real.

The Kindle edition is now available to pre-order, and the paperback will be released on 1 March 2026. That date feels quietly momentous. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just meaningful.

If you’re reading this and you’ve followed along quietly, supported from a distance, or simply stumbled across this post, thank you. Truly. Stories do not exist in isolation, even when they are written alone. They are shaped by time, patience, and the belief that someone, somewhere, might connect with them.

This isn’t the end of Queen’s Road.
It is the moment it steps out into the world.

And that feels both terrifying and wonderful in equal measure.

If you’d like to follow along as launch approaches, I’ll be sharing updates, behind-the-scenes moments, and early news through my newsletter. You can sign up here:  Newsletter sign up

Thank you for being here, at the end of this chapter and the beginning of the next.