Eremita Gray

@eremitagray.bsky.social

113 Followers 244 Following

Indie author of dark romantasy 🩸 Court of Gilded Shadows launching September 22! 🧚‍♀️🧛‍♂️👑🩸🔥🖤🌶 Join the reader list for exclusive first access and behind the scenes sneek peaks 👉 bit.ly/eremitagray

Screenshot of the Goodreads app with a text caption over top. It reads Someone help 😂😂

Screenshot of an Instagram comment. Text reads:
It's 🔥🔥🔥, so many things I am loving right now. (If this comment isnt allowed please delete 😅) Literally holding my breathe in so many parts at the beginning and finally decided I must go to sleep once I've hit chapter 13. But tomorrow...or today (😅), right back at it!

Quote graphic on blood stained teal fabric background with a gold-hilted dagger peeking from behind the text banner. Text reads: "I was the wolf now. Surrounded by traps, but not unwitting."

What's the one chapter in your book thay changed you while writing it? Drop your book link and tell us why that chapter still stays with you.

Screenshot from the Reedsy app showing 32 highlighted instances of the word "eye" and its variations in a single chapter.

Screenshot from Romantasy Addict. Text reads: Romantasy authors trying to introduce the love interest:
Every other author: "A handsome man walked in."
Romantasy authors: "Every instinct in her body told her to run."

Screenshot of the Reedsy app showing wordcount progress of 194,758 words.

I yelped and dug my fingers into his wrist as he nearly exposed me to the room, his knuckles pressed into the soft flesh of my breast as he bared the glamours to them, the evidence of his ownership. “Soren, please …” I begged.

My eyes darted between the vial of blood-ink and Soren’s carefully neutral expression. “How does it work?” I asked in a tight voice.
Soren leaned back in the chair. “We’ll need to mix your own ink using your blood – a single drop will suffice – and once it’s spelled, you’ll use it to sign me.”
My brows lifted. “Sign you.”
He gave a small laugh and said, “Yes. You’ll sign your name to me. Whenever you use the ink to write your message, it’ll appear briefly on my body. Likewise, I’ll sign you, so I can communicate with you if need be.”
I blinked at him as his words moved through me. Sign him. And he would sign me. With blood. Our blood. My blood would be on his skin. His blood would be on mine.
I suppressed a shudder.

A nine-panel image collage of Kermit the Frog dolls in distressed situations, with the center image caption reading: me when i’m writing. Images include Kermit with tears, lying on fire, and using an oxygen mask.

Screenshot of a Google Doc toolbar. Text reads: Chapter 32: Soren POV

Meme of a person looking in the mirror. Text labels the person as "Writers." The bottom of the image says "Stop dwelling on your trauma and give it to your characters instead."

Picture of two Google Docs opened side by side

Screenshot of a Google Docs dashboard with a rename document window open. The document title is Book 1: Draft 6

Screenshot of a post from a Facebook group, featuring an image of a bladed potato masher.

I stared at his back for several more breaths, tracing my gaze across the muscles of his shoulders, the spray of bites along his neck, his forearms … his waist.
“Ahh, Izzy's making sweet cakes!” a lovely female voice crooned from behind me. I turned as Arisandra – beautiful, dark-haired – stopped beside me, close enough I could feel the heat radiating from her. She met my gaze with sparkling dark eyes, and smiled.
Sensation unfurled from my chest into my legs, and I spun away, aiming for the large table set on the other side of the kitchen.

across his lips. I echoed his expression, and then forced my shoulders back, lifting my chin. The edges of his smile widened, appreciative and grief-weary, and he held out his arm.
With an exhausted, heavy sigh, I took it, and together we made our way.

Chapter 7.

Marble and mirrors greeted us in the vast meeting hall. A wall of arched, leaded windows provided a view of the moonlit grounds on one side, while serpent-framed mirrors

A meme featuring Cinderella balancing three stacks of books. The text at the top reads, "When you have a million story ideas and you carry them with you everywhere you go." Labels on the book stacks identify them as "Fantasy Story Ideas" (balanced on her head), "Romance Story Ideas" (in her right hand), and "Thriller Story Ideas" (in her left hand). Cinderella herself is labeled "Writers."

A two-panel meme using a scene from The Dark Knight Rises. In the top panel, a man in a suit labeled "Me, the author" places his hand on the villain Bane’s shoulder, saying, "I’m in charge." In the bottom panel, Bane, labeled "Characters in my books who I literally wrote into being," looks back menacingly and replies, "Do you feel in charge?"

Meme of 3 people in tan clothing. One is holding what appears to be a screen or tablet. All 3 look at it with various expressions. Each one is captioned.

Top caption reads: "past me who wrote an amazing idea at 2:38am"

Middle left reads: "present me reading the idea"

Middle right reads: "future me worried I'll be the one who has to make sense of it"

Bottom caption reads: "the rose falls. End shape. Thr bird."

Graphic of different styles of vampire fangs. Text reads "which vampire would you be?" Options include styles labeled "traditional", "incisor", "nosferstu", "lost boys", "interview", "buffy", "true blood", and "twilight".

Hand holding a heart-shaped, sparkly sticker. Text on the sticker reads "therapy is not enough. I need to bite people."

Screenshot of a fantasy map being created in Canva

Screenshot of a Spotify playlist labeled Soren. The playlist has only one song: I'm with You by Avril Lavigne.

“Don't goad me, vampire,” she growled as she slapped one of my silver and diamond hairpins down on the table.
“I would never dream of it,” Soren answered smoothly, even as he reached out to straighten the hairpin with the tip of his finger.

And then Soren's hand was back in my hair, firm, but not painful, raking up from below. The relative gentleness of his grip compared to just a moment ago spread a layer of goosebumps across my skin, even as his fingers tightened.
He pulled. Slow, deliberate, lifting my chin, until I straightened and pushed my shoulders back.
My breath was a rapid gasp sawing out of me when he released me and leveled a stare at Endri.

Text on black background. Text reads Writing: somewhere between torture and fun.

Bottom right corner reads "The Write Practice"

This image is a character aesthetic collage set against a muted purple background with subtle, swirling line art. It contains several smaller images and text blocks arranged in a grid:
Image Components
* Top Center: A close-up of two people in a warm embrace. One wears a teal, long-sleeved garment, and the other wears a light pink dress with ruffled sleeves and delicate floral embroidery.
* Top Right: A vertical white rectangle with the name "Taryn" written in elegant, black cursive script.
* Middle Left: A vibrant shot of a crackling fireplace with orange and yellow flames licking over dark wood logs.
* Middle Center: A portrait of a woman with pointed elf ears and striking blue eyes. Only the right half of her face and her braided brown hair are visible.
* Bottom Left (Text): A gray square featuring the quote, "I'll be here in the morning." in a black serif font.
* Bottom Left (Image): Below the quote, a dark teal teapot pours light-colored tea into a matching cup.
* Bottom Right: A lush field of bright purple lavender flowers in full bloom.

Soren's grin widened, and he lifted a hand to trace the back of it lightly down my bare arm. My fingers clenched around my skirts beneath the table as goosebumps rose in the wake of his touch. “See for yourself.”
Cahir's focus narrowed onto Soren's hand, the place where it brushed my skin. His eye practically twitched as his gaze followed the path of it, like a predator tracking prey. Cold, possessive fury flashed like a storm across his face.

Meme image of people screaming in pain or fear, with a subtitle caption of [SCREAMING].

Text above it says Me: I love writing.
Also me:

Bottom text reads writershq.co.uk

Tropes:
He falls first and hard, she falls harder
Just one bed
Captor/captive
Political enemies to allies to friends to lovers
Morally gray MMC
Trauma bonding
Trauma-informed, consent forward D/s
Slowburn
Caretaking
Forced proximity
Age gap
Fake relationship
Touch her and die
Soft FMC
Found/chosen family
Feminine rage

And over it all, hung from wooden beams, was a chandelier of brass and crystal and antlers.
No, not antlers.
Bones.

And over it all, hung from wooden beams, was a chandelier of brass and crystal and antlers.
No, not antlers.
Bones.

Endri reached up and removed the circlet from his head, and handed it to Cahir, who then stepped aside. My eyes followed that transfer with a sense of dread, watching as Cahir gazed down at the circlet he now held in his hands, his fingers tracing idly over the wrought details. Beside my resolve, another truth was becoming apparent, built on the fragments of succession plans and regicide.

The tingle returned, warmth spreading beneath my hand, pulsing at my wrists. A soft glow emanated from my skin, shining gold against the white skin of the Tree, and when I twisted my arm slightly, a faint sigil glittered in deep, molten amber from inside my skin, like a tattoo on my very essence.

Meme image of a Tumblr post by maxkirin. Text reads "when you want to write something really deep but it ends up sounding like"

Above a screenshot of an anime character looking determined, with a subtitle "People die if they are killed..."

The blood drained from my face, and a ripple of concerned murmuring went through the assembled Lords.
But it was Silas who mused aloud, “That would mean war between the fae territories …” He shook his head. “And a mad prince willing to open war beyond the Gates for …” Silas peered around Soren to me. “Her.”

Image of a laptop and cup of coffee. The laptop has a document open with some of the text blurred out.

A dark fantasy character aesthetic board featuring the name "Endri" in handwritten script on a gray label. The collage is set against a slate-blue background and contains five distinct images arranged around a central quote.

1. Top: A white chess king lying on its side on a black-and-white marble board, splattered with drops of bright red blood.
2. Middle Right: A portrait of a handsome male fae with dark brown hair and pointed ears, wearing a silver crown and a dark, high-collared coat.
3. Middle Left: A dark, shadowy silhouette of a man and woman standing close together in a tense or intimate moment.
4. Bottom Left: A white text box containing the quote: "Does it hurt, sister? Or are your tears fiction, too?"
Directly below the text is an image of a man in a black suit clasping his hands behind his back, with his fingers crossed.
5. Bottom Right: Close-up of spiky purple thistles.

A horizontal spreadsheet table listing various "Chapters" and their start/end days. The top left of the image is highlighted in a light peach color, while the right side and bottom are partially covered by black speckled noise and blurry text.

Table Data (Visible Portions):

Chapter 1: Starts day 0.

Chapter 2: Ends day 0.

Chapter 3: Starts day 1.

Chapter 5: Ends day 1.

Chapter 6: Starts day 2.

Chapter 7: Starts day 2.

Chapter 8: Starts day 2.

Chapter 10: Starts day 2.

Kestrel started by placing the chunk of quartz on the bed beneath my bare feet, while the amethyst she set into the pillows above my head. The rhodochrosite she set gently on my abdomen, just below my navel.
I felt a flutter beneath the subtle weight of the crystal, despite its current inert state, and a gentle, rolling heat emanated through me, setting my heart to racing.

Meme of white text on black background. Text reads I think some authors chose violence in the morning rather than coffee.

Small image at the bottom of a figure on a cellphone, beside the words myGlaizaness_bookbabe

“Will you let me comfort you, Princess?” he breathed against my hair, tightening his grip.
I whimpered. He chuckled.
“I think you will,” he whispered, and the scent of early autumn rain rose around us, a silken tendril of his magic snaking up my leg.

Meme of a farmer standing in front of a field. Top text reads Writers, after spending all day writing a single paragraph:

Bottom text reads It aunt's much, but it's honest work.

A two-panel comic strip by Nathan W. Pyle with a teal and grey color palette.
Top Panel: A simple illustration of a person holding a plate of food toward a microwave. To the right, text reads: "I WOULD LOVE IT IF U HEATED THIS FOOD EVENLY."
Bottom Panel: A close-up of a microwave with small, simple eyes and a flat mouth, making it appear sentient. To the left, the microwave’s response reads: "I WOULD LOVE IT IF U RESPECTED MY CREATIVE PROCESS."

A vertical collage with a dark red background.
Top: A close-up of a man's face with pale skin, long dark hair, and one intense, glowing gold eye. To the right, a tan box contains the name "Soren" in elegant black cursive.
Middle Left: A moody shot of a hand wearing a dark signet ring resting on a knee.
Middle Right: A high-contrast black and white photo of a mouth with sharp vampire fangs, with dark blood or liquid running down the chin.
Bottom Left: A tan text box reads: "Nothing taken that isn't freely offered." Below it is a photo of a white Queen of the Night cactus flower against a dark green background.
Bottom Right: A photograph of a formal black Victorian-style jacket with intricate embroidery.

A 'Rename' dialog box in Google Docs, with the text field containing 'Book 1: Draft 5' and 'Cancel' and 'OK' buttons.

Cover of The Never King by Nikki St. Crowe

“Would you be interested in meeting the other Lords of the Shadow Court?”
I sat back up, wincing against the dizziness. Surely I hadn't heard his question correctly. “What?”
“The Lords of the Shadow Court – the Lords of all the Major Houses in the realm. Would you want to meet with them?”
“Why on earth would I want to meet with them?” I asked, my voice shrill. “So they could lock me in a room and interrogate me as well? To further their interests in Avayr?”

Screenshot of a social media post by Alexander Pennington (@AuthorAlexp) featuring text that reads "Me finishing a writing session: I think I'm actually starting to get good at this whole writing thing" followed by "Me rereading what I wrote:" above a meme image showing Captain Holt from Brooklyn 99 holding papers that are on fire with an expression of disappointment.

"Kill your darlings"

What is your favorite scene/event in your WIP that got left on the cutting room floor?

Character mood board for Maeve on a warm beige background. The collage includes: a close-up of white lace lingerie with an ornate silver cross necklace, vibrant pink magnolia blossoms in bloom, the handwritten name 'Maeve' in elegant script, an ethereal portrait of a woman wearing an ornate crown holding a glowing candle, golden magical light swirling around an outstretched hand, and a romantic white gown with intricate gold and silver beading. The text 'I would not go back.' appears in vertical script along the right side.

The vampire's lips curled back into a feral grin, and the pale moonlight silvered the edges of his fangs.
“Please?” he echoed.
“I haven't- you can't keep me here. I have no conflict with you.”
His grin faded some, and he pursed his lips into something contemplative.
“The Pact,” I tried feebly, and a low rumble sounded deep in his chest.
“Yes, the Pact.” His finger traced idly over his bottom lip in thought. I followed the motion with unfocused eyes and tried not to think about the sharp teeth hidden behind those lips. “The Pact forbids me from feeding on you. It says nothing about asking questions.”

An incomplete paint by numbers painting of a mist-shrouded mountain scene.

I resisted the urge to argue, to tell him that the Pact benefitted all three of our races – that it was meant to provide safety and support for everyone. But even I wasn’t that naive. I had read the Pact. Studied it as part of my education. It had positioned the fae as arbiters of justice between mortals and vampires.
And then we stayed behind our Gates while vampires and mortals developed their own system. A better system, it would seem.

I smiled, and felt heat creeping back into my face. “You’re very skilled,” I said. “You should be properly compensated.” The words felt awkward, rote. “And … you can call me Maeve. If you like,” I added. My hands curled into fists at my sides, and I squeezed them, briefly, before forcing my fingers to relax.
Kestrel beamed at me. “Maeve it is then.” She dropped into a curtsy – still clumsy and a little awkward, but smoother. Like she’d been practicing. I was helpless to the small laugh that escaped me.
“Will you be going home?” I asked her, and returned to the chest of drawers, carefully gathering my cloak and placing it and my coin purse neatly in the pack.