It seems like a million years ago, but there was a time when I used to accidentally write whole-ass books.

River was like that–I wrote the very first (shorter) draft in 2003 over about eleven days. It was supposed to be a short story, and then I couldn’t stop.

I would have very intense creative bursts and write books out of nowhere (Bloodlines, too, had about 90% of it written in three weeks; I also did NaNoWriMo a lot). In 2010 I wrote the first three (of five) books in a dark YA series still sitting on my harddrive.

That sort of came to a stop after I was sick in 2014; although I’m in remission, I don’t have the same endurance I used to have. I’m juggling a lot of freelance work, and now that I have a wider audience, there are certain expectations for what I spend my time writing. That isn’t to say I don’t occasionally accidentally write shorter things, but it’s a lot harder to have that sense of fearlessness to commit to writing a big thing when so many of your bills are paid with writing.

But back in 2009, that was where Soulless came from: I accidentally wrote a novel.

I had various things in progress, then I felt this character on my shoulder. That is usually how it goes, especially writing deep first person–I feel this heavy presence of someone not myself. Sometimes they come in guns blazing like Zara and never stop talking.

But Ani didn’t talk so much as stood there in my head and waited. I felt her isolation, her anxiety; I immediately knew who she was and what she struggled with. I just had to actually start typing to get her story.

It was a quieter sort of “urban” fantasy, in part because it’s actually rural and because Ani is not a typical UF heroine. She’s the sidekick. She’s the secondary character. Not because she doesn’t have a story to tell, but because of her power: she was created to devour souls, and with every soul she takes she loses a little of herself. How do you make someone who struggles to connect with others connect with the reader?

I never really found an answer to that question. I struggle to connect with people as well–how to act, what to say, balancing interpreting social cues with what I think expectations are–and I haven’t the benefit of any supernatural reason for it, just regular old anxiety. And I don’t think I’m the only one.

Though I started her second book, I ended up indefinitely setting it aside as I felt like Ani’s story was told enough in Soulless. Because it’s standalone, it’s sort of sat there peripherally, other than when I used it as a fundraiser book for vet bills several years ago, occasionally checked out by readers of my other series. But it’s always had a special place in my heart and I’m always pleased when someone finds their way to it, which is why I’m so thrilled to have it as part of StoryBundle’s Crossing the Veil collection.

For another week you can get Soulless and several other books for any price–you decide what the books are worth, and the breakdown of money for authors, StoryBundle, and can offer 10% to the charities we’re supporting.

More from Rhonda Parrish, curator of the bundle:

A woman grudgingly helping a ghost move on to the other side (so he’ll leave her alone)? Check.

A soul-devouring protagonist who has her life turned upside down by a harpy attack? Check.

Characters walking between worlds as casually as you and I cross the street? Check.

A snarky Newfoundland heroine dealing with an undead infestation in her hometown? Check (x3!)

A leucostic magpie with a lot of personality? Check.

There’s so much more. If, like me, you’re drawn to the stories about passing through the veil between worlds, or shepherding souls through it, this bundle is not one you’ll want to miss. And best of all, because it’s on StoryBundle, you get to set the price you want to pay.

Anais Peake was created to devour the souls of otherwise unkillable monsters, but with every soul she eats, she loses a little of her own. She’s been in retirement for eighteen months when her monster hunting best friend shows up one winter night needing help, and so Ani temporarily returns to a life she tried hard to escape.

Their plans go awry on a deserted highway when a harpy attacks and Ani’s friend is killed. Ani is pulled out of the role of sidekick and thrust into the uncomfortable shoes of heroine in a mystery involving both human and otherworldly monsters, with only her neighbour/cat babysitter, an old friend still suffering grief and anger, and an empath funeral director for help to solve her friend’s murder.

But fate has patiently been waiting: Ani was created with a purpose in mind and retirement or not, she has to face what she is and what she’s capable of.

Even if her soul doesn’t survive it.

The countdown is on–seven days left to get this amazing collection! Lots of pandemic reading while you’re in lockdown!

This post is for the Oblivion readers who may or may not be burning with questions after diving into the spinoff sent twenty-five years after the main books.

Just because I stopped writing the series after Oblivion (other than a few short pieces) doesn’t mean the stories stopped in my head. I don’t 100% know everything that was going to happen–I’m always surprised by things in my books–but I knew a lot of the big pieces. Elisabeta’s birth–and the circumstances that led to it–was always in the cards and something I’ve known about for, oh, ten years now?

I’ll put this behind a cut and a spoiler warning so you can look away if you’d rather not be spoiled more having not read the original series, though I’m not honestly answering too much here.

Also: nothing here is about Elis’s future books. I have #2 sketched out, I have a few titles and plot points in mind for after that, but I never answer those kinds of spoilers, so don’t expect that here. This is pre-Blood Ties only.