Five Years, New Covers, and a Homecoming

I wrote a longer reflection back in May about five years of Dawn of the Lightbearer. That was the month I first placed the book up for preorder, and in many ways, that was when the Lucardian journey began for me. Though I might have jumped the gun a little, as the book officially went live on July 2, 2021.

So yes, I am celebrating again. Five years ago, Erikson Gray walked into the forbidden forest and found a sword buried in the roots of an ancient tree. Five years ago, Lucardia opened its gates. Five years ago, I sent Dawn of the Lightbearer into the world with no real idea whether anyone would follow it into the dark.

To celebrate, the ebook of Dawn of the Lightbearer is currently on sale for $0.99 until July 3rd.

As you can see from the image above, I have also decided to update the covers for the Absolution of the Morning Star series after weeks of fiddling and tweaking with them. It started with the blurb and A+ content as I prepared to celebrate Dawn of the Lightbearer. I didn’t expect it to go so far, but I liked the results, and it soon spread to the rest to match.

These books have grown with me over the last five years. The world has deepened. The shadows have lengthened. The mythology has become stranger, darker, and more fully itself. I wanted the covers to better reflect the series as it now exists in my mind: not just as a fantasy adventure, but as a story of haunted kingdoms, ruined faiths, buried gods, terrible choices, and the cost of carrying light through a world that does not want to be saved. I am very happy with how they came out. The series now feels like it has real continuity.

Thirdly, I am happy to report that Jezelle: Thief of Forks made MIT’s summer reading list! Out of 12,000+ faculty and staff, mine is the only fiction novel that made the list. MIT is not known for fiction, but it’s still quite an accomplishment, and I’m already seeing the fruits.

And there is one more piece of news.

Koen is coming home.

I have officially signed the rights reversion agreement with Grendel Press, which means Koen: Quills from the Raven’s Nest will return to me and eventually be republished through my own KDP account.

Saying that this was not an easy decision is an understatement.

Almost two years ago, Grendel Press became my first publishing deal. That is a strange and difficult thing to explain to anyone outside of writing. This is not an industry that hands out validation easily. Most of the time, writing means shouting into silence, learning to live with rejection, and continuing forward even when no one has given you permission to believe in yourself.

So when Grendel accepted Koen, it mattered. It mattered deeply. It was a pivotal moment in my life.

I remember celebrating with my family. My Chinese mother-in-law sang “Happy Birthday” to me because it is the only song she knows in English, and somehow that made the moment even sweeter. It was funny and touching and oddly perfect. It was not my birthday, of course, but in a way, something had been born. A book I loved had been accepted by someone else. A door I had been knocking on for years had opened, even if only a crack.

For a writer, that first publishing deal is more than a contract. It did not bring me fame and fortune, they rarely do, but it was a kind of proof. Not final proof. Not the end of doubt. But proof enough to say, “Someone liked this book enough to take a chance with it.”

That will always be true.

Bringing Koen home does not erase that. It does not change the fact that I was traditionally published. It does not take away the work Grendel put into the book or the gratitude I feel toward them. I want to say very sincerely that I am thankful to Susan Russell and Grendel Press. They gave Koen its first home, treated the book with care, and handled this transition with generosity and professionalism.

Still, when the time came to sign the rights reversion agreement, I had tears in my eyes.

There was sadness in it. There was uncertainty. There was the ache of seeing one chapter close, especially one that had meant so much to me. I had to sit with the question of whether I was making the right decision, whether I was stepping backward, whether bringing the book home would somehow make the original achievement feel smaller.

But the more I thought about it and discussed it with my closest advisor (my wife), the clearer the answer became.

Koen needs to come home because Koen is not a detached side story. It is the beginning book. It is the story that brought Erik into existence. Its shadow stretches directly into Dawn of the Lightbearer, the Order of Thanatos series, into Jezelle’s tale, into the Northlands, into Vesper’s empire, and into the long, bloody history that shaped the world Erik inherits. As Lucardia has grown, Koen has only become more central, not less.

And right now, with the book outside my complete control, I cannot fully connect it to the main series. I cannot link it the way it needs to be linked. I cannot adjust the keywords, tweak the blurb, update the cover, refine the manuscript for continuity, or reposition it within the larger world as the seasons change. I cannot move it in rhythm with the rest of Lucardia.

That matters even more now because the direct sequel to Koen, Sylvanus: Swords and Sons, is already well underway. That book is halfway done and moving along nicely. It continues the story of this family, this empire, this inheritance of blood and ambition and broken sons. Koen and Sylvanus need to stand together, and after that, they will likely be joined by Erikini. These three, and their story, belong under one roof.

So this is not a bitter ending.

It is a homecoming.

It is also a relaunch, a consolidation, a second chance, and the beginning of something larger. Dawn is five years old. Koen is returning. Sylvanus is rising behind it. The pieces of Lucardia are drawing closer together.

There is grief in letting go of any version of a dream, even when the dream did not die. It simply changed shape. That is what this feels like. Not failure. Not regret. Not bitterness. A change of shape.

Grendel gave Koen its first home, and I will always be grateful for that. Now I have to give it its place in the larger house I have been building all along.

So the book returns. Not diminished. Not erased. Home.

Thank you to everyone who has followed Lucardia from the beginning, and to everyone discovering it now. Thank you to those who have walked with Erik, Koen, Jezelle, Wendell, Brant, Agar, and all the other souls stumbling through the dark.

The light is still burning. The shadows are getting longer. And Lucardia is coming under one roof.

Cheers!