Tell us more about Kali! What is her background and origin?
I have a whole mailer devoted to Kali—her origins, her heart. But here’s the core of it: Kali was given nothing. She earned—or seized—everything she had, because the alternative was servitude or death.
Her people, the Aloi, are exoticized or dismissed by the so-called “civilized” nations, even by their ally, Solantia (in Son of the Borderlands, Sara, the duchess, makes racist comments about her). She grew up in a world that tried to define her by her place—poor, tribal, dismissed. But she never accepted that role.
Part of what draws Agni to her is their complementarity. In Bond and Fire, they start off drawn to their stark differences—she’s a dancer scrapping for coins, he’s a noble and the most decorated soldier in the Dragonlands. But as they walk the streets together, that contrast deepens into connection. They share a hunger—for freedom, for meaning, for a world where their pain has purpose.
What truly seals their bond, though, is Kali’s emotional clarity—even superiority. She is fearless in love where Agni is guarded. If you’ve seen the Jason Bourne movies, you know they often end with Moby’s “Extreme Ways” as Bourne escapes—damaged, but alive, victorious in his way. That’s the tone I imagine at the end of Bond and Fire, when Kali tracks down Agni and coaxes from him the “I love you” buried beneath years of armor. That’s her Extreme Ways moment—piercing the warlord’s armor like no spear ever could.
But in Son of the Borderlands, their relationship is not all rainbows. Agni is betrothed to Sara. Their difference in social rank looms large. But the greatest wedge is Agni’s silence—his refusal to speak of Anton Kazirian. Kali senses that he hides something terrible, and it troubles her. Because she loves him. And she wants to fight his battles alongside him… even if the true enemy lies beyond her comprehension.
Anton Kazirian gives me the chills! What was your inspiration for him?
I have another full mailer coming on Anton, but here’s the short version:
Aside from Sara, he evolved more than any other character in the book. In the earliest iterations—back on the fanfiction roleplay boards I mentioned—he was just a typical villain. Evil for evil’s sake. That wasn’t enough.
I’ve said before that I couldn’t write Son of the Borderlands until I had experienced enough of life to understand the pain beneath the surface. Anton was reborn in that pain. The pain of having a pure heart and being rejected by the divine. He reflects a moment in my own life when I brought deep theological questions to the Catholic Church and felt betrayed by the answers I received. He also mirrors my experience with mental illness—he is trapped between “Earth” (the Mortal Realms) and “Hell” (the Netherworld).
Anton has suffered for two thousand years. Denied by his god, he becomes obsessed with resurrecting the lost Empire Kazia to spite his divine father. But for all his power, he’s still just a ghost. He acts only through the mind—and it is implied that if he were to recover his mortal body, his power would approach the divine.
He’s not a Satan figure. He’s not archetypal—I hate archetypes. I used to play Vampire: The Masquerade with friends, and Anton is more in line with the ancient vampires of that world: immortal beings who operate on a scale beyond human morality. To Anton, “good” is what restores his empire. “Evil” is what threatens it. He thinks in millennia. He calculates everything with cold, ruthless, utilitarian clarity.
There are no absolutes in this world. Even the gods are not bound to human notions of good and evil. Varenox, the Dragon God, is more force of nature than moral being. Like all the characters in Son of the Borderlands, Anton is not pure. None of them are. Because none of us are.
What was your physical inspiration for Agni?
Agni is part Breath of Fire protagonist, part barbarian romance cover. He’s noble and wild all at once.
I’m a perfectionist with character design—just ask my artists, of whom I demanded much—but when I saw the final image of Agni on the website, I said, “That’s him.” There was power in the way he held himself, but sorrow too. You could see in his eyes a man who’s seen too much.
Ironically, while his physical condition is my ideal—including his glorious blue mane—I buzz my own hair every two weeks.
Did you use AI in writing the book?
Now there’s a live wire!
I know some authors treat AI like treason—an affront to what makes us human. And it would defeat the purpose of putting 25 years of thought, pain, obsession, and joy on the page.
Out of curiosity, I did ask ChatGPT to write a few scenes. The results? Hot garbage. Pretty adjectives, yes—but hollow. Like a politician’s speech. It lacked human experience. It lacked soul.
That said, I did use it for sentence-level edits. When something read awkwardly, I’d ask, “Is there a cleaner way to say this?” And I used it for proofreading, like any smart tool. But the ideas, the characters, the voice—that’s all mine. If it weren’t, the book wouldn’t be worth writing.