Page 142 of Scorching the Alien Empire (The Klendathian Cycle #7)
Hail, Divine Cherubs.
…Where do I even begin?
First, how rude of me—not to start with a thank you.
Thank you for reading Lexie and Dracoth’s story.
From the bottom of my heart, I hope you enjoyed their messy, blood-drenched, fire-forged love—sprinkled with chaos, snark, and Todd’s wee booties.
An absolute roller coaster that was both the most frustrating and fun writing experience I’ve had to date.
Honestly, I don’t think there’s any other setting where a character like Lexie could exist. Her blend of modern sass, spiraling madness, unfiltered outbursts, into impossible situations. It was like watching Dracoth blow up a glitter bomb.
I hope it was fun and interesting. Because it was for me!
Throughout the book you might have noticed or felt that Lexie had three or more chapters back-to-back.
That’s because I— naively—believed one scene equals one chapter.
But nope. Lexie took the wheel. Lexified.
Molexied. I let her run wild, the random comments, outbursts, her trying to seize power and control sent almost every scene spiraling into chaos.
Case in point: that restaurant scene on Klendathor.
In my poor, simple, innocent mind, it was meant to be a lighthearted moment for the characters to bond.
Let their hair down. Relax. But Lexie couldn’t let the indignity slide—especially not when Sandra was getting all the good treatment.
Add alcohol, and well… it's a miracle it didn’t explode.
Most of the time, writing her lines cracked me up—her chaos snark pouring in from the ether.
But then there were moments where… I kind of hated her.
Heart wrenching to write. Where she really digs into Dracoth to get under his skin.
Worse still? When they were bonded, kicking ass as a team.
But then Dracoth lost Arawnoth’s fire and she turned her back on him.
Leaving him to possibly die fighting an army of droids was brutal.
If I felt that way, I imagine you might’ve hated her at times too—and that’s okay.
I don’t write characters to be liked—I write them to be felt .
Even if their situations are anything but.
It was difficult to put my head in the mind of such a person.
The constant contradictions—sometimes in the same sentence!
Spirals within spirals, entitlement and insecurity coiled tight.
A deeply flawed soul with a gaping wound.
But… I still love her. My beautifully broken Princesa.
After Xandor and Tyrxie’s story, I got a little drunk on overconfidence and decided, “Sure, I can write two of the most difficult characters in the series next!” Originally, I thought Dracoth would pair with someone gentle.
It could’ve been funny—easier and lighter to write.
Imagine him stomping around crushing everything and everyone and her eternally patient asking what’s at the root of his anger issues _.
Funny enough… I think that person became Sandra—the sweetheart.
Lexie’s ginger anchor to her fleeting humanity.
Funny, in hindsight, I wonder if the story might have been more fun if the other Earthwomen had POVs.
Just at the start to add mystery about who the bonded female might actually be.
But let’s be honest, their story is already long enough without adding another hundred pages!
This is probably the heaviest, darkest book in the cycle—and I honestly didn’t plan it that way.
I thought Xandor and Tyrxie’s arc had plenty of darkness, and I wanted to steer clear of repeating that intensity.
But with such deeply flawed characters wrestling with destiny, legacy, vengeance, identity, and abandonment… the darkness crept in.
In fact, I found the Voidbringer’s mental assault on Dracoth even more savage than Xandor’s physical torture. The insidious way it tried to erase him, bit by bit, casting his consciousness into oblivion—chilling.
Ignixis. Gods, I loved writing him. Another side character who decided to take over.
His scenes with Dracoth were electric—their push-pull dynamic, the ambiguity of their relationship.
Mentor or manipulator? Savior or seducer?
I hope it worked well. The burgeoning father-son relationship they both struggled to admit and accept in their harsh religion/culture that does not tolerate weakness.
So much fun later, when he started to brush up against Lexie.
The master versus totally irrelevant sass.
He was a constantly evolving character, that had me in bits writing his searing passing.
And then there's Todd. The little scene-stealing grub. Possibly too many scenes, but… I couldn’t help it!
He embodies everything I love about writing.
Completely unscripted. Total ethereal grub energy.
So Ignixis tries to scare Lexie, with harmless creatures.
They skitter, dying. I thought wouldn’t it be funny if one goes to Lexie.
And it reminds her of her friend. Oh! And they use each other for heat.
Ah! She keeps him as a pet. I love it! The fact he’s kind of gross, but Lexie seeing her own reflection in his eye think she’s the cutest thing ever!
Dracoth… my Red Dragon. I hope he came across as the layered, burdened, deeply noble soul I envisioned.
A young warrior trapped in legacy and shame, bound to a people who demand strength but offer little compassion.
I’m proud of how distinct Lexie and his POVs are.
Just from the writing style, it’s obvious whose chapters are whose.
It was always refreshing jumping from chaos to very direct, linear logic.
I didn’t want him to be like Xandor or Krogoth—didn’t want things to come easily.
One of my regrets for Krogoth and Rocks was how quickly they fell in together.
So I created a ten-foot rod for my back, instead.
In fact, there were times I genuinely thought Lexie and Dracoth might never end up together.
She was too wild. He was too locked in his own head.
But somehow, they made it work. Their love isn’t soft—it’s forged in chaos and fire. But it’s theirs .
I hurt for him when he thought he was a clone.
When Lexie walked away. When no one truly understood what he carried.
I thought he just needed a hug. But Lexie always held to the sacred words and demanded more strength—maybe she was right?
That’s why, near the end, when Todd plops onto his head.
It’s the hug he always needed. Then, finally…
the words with Krogoth, both titans battered and broken.
“I will never submit… When you saw my tears, Krogoth.” And the response.
“I know brother... I cannot leave my Pebbles”…
I’m emotional just quoting it. The respect he earns.
Vorthax passing Stormcleaver to him. The catharsis he deserved and earned with blood and fire.
About halfway through, I realized—with both regret and hope, dear reader—that I was closing out the Klendathian Cycle.
Another reason for the crazy long length.
That meant bringing in the Revered Mothers, wrapping up the Scythian war, and giving this sprawling saga a fitting send-off.
No pressure, right? I dearly hope I’ve left you all with a satisfactory closing to the saga?
If you’ve stuck with me this far, it’s probably clear that my stories drift toward the deep end.
I explore darker, messier themes—way beyond space romps and sexy aliens (though there’s some of that too).
Absolutely nothing wrong with that by the way.
And let’s be honest, my stories were always a mismatch to most expectations. But I must follow my own muse.
And I don’t regret a single word.
My first chaotic foray into writing, and it was a blast! These characters, the universe I created, I loved them to bits. And I’m so proud of it all.
And none of it would have been possible without Lara Roth—she’s the one who gave me the gift of writing.
The one who pushed me forward, and gave me the confidence to just try.
With her endless patience and razor-sharp insights, we wandered together through the void of chaos and birthed a world—characters I’ll remember fondly until the day I die.
She is a true talent, shining where I am weak, and she has my undying adoration and respect.
Follow her work, and you’ll find spice, heart, and everything nice.
Thank you—truly—for your reviews, your kind words, your heartfelt reactions.
It means the world. I won’t name names (even though I’m tempted!), but I can’t express how much they’ve meant.
When you put your heart and soul out there it can be scary.
Then reading a scene made you cry, laugh.
Even in some cases, your favorite romance novel!
That blows me away . I’m endlessly grateful for the gift of writing—and for the gift of you , the reader.
Farewell, my beautiful souls.
In another world, another Cycle, echoes of love and war may rise again.
A world of dragons. Red, and silver. Glorious, is it not?
The Cycle Burns Eternal.