Astrid Brandon has a new queer (ace/nb/aro) fantasy mystery out, book one of the Mysteries of the Astral: “Investigation in Nottingham.”
Autistic Thurid Sevriens has trouble comprehending her grandmother’s aversion to her fascination with Avery Norcova, a deceased actor whose kindness and talent while alive made him loved by millions. After yet another fight with her grandmother, his spirit has had enough. Taking her under his wing in the astral plane, he takes her to medieval Nottingham, England where they were going to spend time together and avoid much contact with people. After the sheriff’s mother is murdered, they realize that there are more dangers than they originally thought.
As if the Astral danger is not enough, the waking world is not much better. There are more problems than just a non-supportive grandmother that hounds Thurid, such as magical powers she’s pretty sure she’s not supposed to have and the feeling her body is not the one she should have been born with.
Coincidence? She doesn’t think so.
Avery stood in front of the rocks by the shore of the lake. He hid his hands in pockets of his long, slate overcoat with his shoulders bent against the cold air. Typical Virginian autumn weather, or at least he could only assume. Yet Thurid was the only person who could verify that this was typical weather: Avery was not from Virginia; he was from England.
Though some say the weather patterns are similar to each other, yet he could not attest to it. He would never know for himself—he was dead. He would never get to feel the true comparison between Virginia and England.
“This is an excellent idea, Avery,” came a voice from behind. “Perhaps the best one you’ve ever had.”
Curious, Avery turned around. Behind him was the Scribe with his wings spread out. He had short, deep dark brown hair and it was short and messy—the male equivalent of a pixie cut. The Scribe wore an olive-green hooded shirt under a chocolate brown blazer. His eyes were hazel; reminiscent of Avery’s own hazel eyes.
“Yeah? What do you mean, Metatron?” he wondered.
Metatron nodded at the lake beside them, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“Taking Thura here,” he answered.
“Well, I told you that I can’t stand to see a big fan of mine crying,” Avery responded. “It’s… the right thing to do, you know?”
Astrid R. Brandon was born in southeastern Virginia (1999–present). They grew up in Chesapeake and are currently working on getting a bachelor’s degree in Asian Studies with a minor in Japanese. Currently they live with their parents and their two cats. They hope to one day be a translator for the government and to help rescue cats and kittens. As a writer and someone who is actually autistic, they hope to be able to share their experiences and enlighten the world about what autism actually is.