Rodin knows he is one of the best. An assassin for hire, he always removes the target with cold, clinical precision. After an attempt on his life, Rodin is offered a contract he cannot refuse. The target is within the perfect society of the Dome. Rodin must pass unnoticed in a place where manners are everything, and where violence is anathema. Nobody must suspect that a professional killer walks amongst them. Especially those protecting the target. But even under the glass, not everything is visible. Even with such transparency secrets remain hidden, and Rodin can trust nobody. Not even himself.
Married, kids, job; the usual stuff. But there has to be more. Music, and books. Especially books. Fuel for the imagination, energy for the mind.
When I was younger, I’d go outside ‘to play’, but I’d take a book with me, find somewhere to sit, and read. I can recall holidays not through what happened, but through the books I read at the time.
But it’s never one-way. All those stories, all those ideas – they ferment. They build up, and they need a release.
TW Iain is the part of me that acts as a release valve. TW types away, crafting tales to put out into the world. There are Dystopian thrillers (the Dominions series) and sci-fi horrors (the Shadows series). And then there’s the short fiction, in anthologies and on twiain.com.
The website also allows an output for various musings on books and anything related to them. But mainly, there’s the fiction—the stuff already out there, the stories in process, and the ideas that may, one day, grow to become new stories.
And all these stories (the ones I write and the ones I read) spawn new ideas, which ferment and grow into their own stories.
It’s never-ending, this writing thing. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.