And he wrote me the following email with my edited manuscript attached, wherein I thought I was going to scream and promptly faint once I finished reading it:

Hi!

I’ve finally completed the edit.

Even in my rather short and somewhat invaried time as an editor, I’ve encountered many types of writer. There are those who have clearly crafted amazing, fully-realized worlds, characters and plots that they can’t seem to do justice to in print; there are those that write impeccably well, weaving words and sentences and chapters together fluidly and pleasingly, but can’t craft an original story; there are those that have both a skill in creating and in writing, but get so lost in the details that the overall picture is lost; and finally, in my experience, there are those that combine the positive qualities of all of the above.

You have created an engrossing world; horribly unpleasant, cruel, physically and emotionally destructive for those that live within it, yet simultaneously so full of hope, however dim, revealing itself to those strong enough to seek it. You have filled this world with relatable, believable characters, torn to shreds by circumstances and the world at large, but strong enough to pull themselves back together well enough to emerge on top, though clearly not unscathed by the process. You have created The Deceiver, told us of his endless deception, and allowed us -the reader- to grow to genuinely trust him alongside those whose trust he has earned. In similar vein, you have created a believable, sometimes relatable, and always eerily familiar cast of villains who never cease to challenge the heroes of the story.

To put it in the greatest, most celebratory terms possible, you are a grammar nazi. Your spelling, capitalization, punctuation, sentence structure, and form, among others, are all impeccable. You put a great deal of work into this, both in initial writing and in revisions, and it shows brightly and clearly. However, in maintaining excellent function, you have not sacrificed form. Your writing is clear and accessible, even to a relatively lower reading level than I am accustomed to (from Catrina - I very much enjoy her work, but it is not for those who simply want to read and understand without applying), while sacrificing neither intricacy, detail, nor class. 

All of this is not to say that the manuscript is flawless, but for a first outside edit, it is far and away as close as I have yet seen. I worked to be thorough, but my edits were minor, few, and far between. A few comma issues here, a semicolon there. You occasionally mix American and British English spellings, an issue far more common in this day and age, and one that I doubt will remain an ‘issue’ for as long as some might like, but which nonetheless needed to be mentioned.

These minor issues nag, but not sufficiently to derail the story you have crafted. You caught my interest at page one, with a setting and premise normally reserved for historical fiction, but immediately combined with just enough indicators to show that this is a modern-time story. I was immediately curious as to what had happened to devastate this world so, and once I had the answer, it raised enough questions of its own that I had to keep reading. And by that time, I was already well attached to Claudia’s story. I ached for Claudia as she endured the curses that drove her past the edge, but I ached far and away further for the daughter who never experienced her mother’s love.

I cringed as Ardentia succumbed to temptation and spoke with the demon. I was right there with Sister Renata, admonishing her for indulging her curiosity, knowing that this demon was by its nature a deceiver working to gain her trust and submission. I watched the ‘annoying kid’ Lucretia plead for Sister Renata’s permission to follow Ardentia to death’s door, and I was stunned and annoyed when it was given - not just by Renata, but by Ardentia herself. However, as time went on and Lucretia proved both her maturity and her skill, she grew to be nearly as valued a member of the story as Ardentia herself. As did Noxius. He displayed his complex and multifaceted nature, and as time went on, his actions betrayed his allegiances more clearly than his half-spoken words ever would’ve. As Ardentia grew to trust this demon, so did I. Even as I did so, though, I kept myself mentally prepared for the betrayal that I knew was coming… but it never did. Eventually, even that mental preparation left my mind. Noxius was a trustworthy ally, and a friend.

Ah, and the ending. You picked the perfect endpoint. Ardentia’s mission has come to a bitter-sweet close, but now what? How will the ‘malefica’ be received upon her return as hero to Ira Finem? What of Claudia? The curses have likely kept her alive, but is she still remotely sane after all these years of existential torture? If so, will she choose to return to the place that cast her away? Will she learn of, or seek out, the daughter she left behind? In the grander picture, what will the dark forces do now that the Saligia have been vanquished? Surely the war is not over. And what will come of Noxius, who so directly aided in their destruction? His fate is now just as important to the reader as that of the one whose soul has been bound to his own.

This book left me clamoring for more, gripping me from the start, but failing to release me as the story reached its conclusion. I eagerly await the sequel, which I’ve been told is already in production.

Thank you for allowing me to edit your work.

All that’s left now is to wait for that cover art done and get the eBook formatting squared away. And then…publication. This is actually happening, guys. I can’t believe it! *insert unintelligible shrieking here*