Wattpad author and fledging query trencher.
Writes werewolves and dragons and mages and anything liable to angst and explosions.
The bio
All bios have 5 things.
Physical location. Quirky Fact.* Marital Status.** The pet. And, if like me your werewolves are not yet paying the bills, the job of your alter ego.
* Quirky Fact: The icebreaker of bios. Snack preference, fandom allegiances, cute hobbies. Nothing too divisive, please. Just enough to humanise you.
**Marital Status: Probably sexist, though my research is preliminary.
And, no, this sociocultural critique of the oddness of bios is not my quirky fact.
I think we really should ask for more, but what fun is internet mining where there is nothing to mine. So I’ll keep my questionable past, heart-wrenching vulnerabilities and irrational fears out of it. Lest all sense of respectability and mystery be lost.
Ahem. I’ll go first.
Karis basks about in the sun all day in Southern Spain, so lathered in sunscreen she is but a glare of white as the planes stomp by with their giant carbon footprints.
She is lamentably but happily single and still thinks Hinge a hobby worth the giggle. She dislikes bios, even on Hinge.
A puppers, she has, by the name of Chester, and he is definitely cuter than yours.
To pay the bills, she stresses about ruining the most expensive day of people’s lives (read: a wedding planner), and tries to charge the werewolves, wizards, wilds and wastes of her imagination rent.
It is a rather hectic real estate battle, but you being here is a decided point in her favour.
