In fifteen days, on his twentieth birthday, Prince Ronan Aldrea will die at the hands of a god. His path was set long before his birth by hands worlds away from his, unbiased and unyielding in their actions, and had been written into prophecy by see...
Wow. Okay. I guess this is it. To those of you that have been following me from the beginning, you've known me through two of the years that Sevensworn has existed. To those of you that are new here, I'm sure my passion for this WIP has not escaped you.
This novel was started four years ago when I was fourteen years old. It was with me through high school, and I'm putting it to rest mere weeks before I begin college. It's grown with me, changed with me, and hopefully gotten a bit less annoying, just as I can only pray I have. I started Sevensworn on a Friday just like this one with a vague concept of a boy named Ronan Aldrea and a whole lot of overly-ambitious nonsense in my head, and today, four years later, both that boy and my overly-ambitious nonsense have led me to the hard-won finish line.
Needless to say, this project was—and is, and will always be—incredibly important to me. It's my first original work, the longest thing I have ever written, and the only project I've stayed loyal to for this long. I'm so happy you have all gotten to witness its journey, along with mine and Ronan's, and I can't even begin to express my gratitude to all of you for your support and the endless stream of kind words.
I love this story, I love its characters, and I owe both a great many things. I am so proud to finally be able to say this, after so many years:
Sevensworn is complete. Both Ronan and his story will finally get some much-needed rest.
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