Black Stone Texture as Abstract Background, Design Material and Textured Surface

Elisse Hay

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I write romantic fantasy books.

My aim is to bring real women's experiences to the forefront and highlight healthy relationships, while exploring the struggles we face.

Brown Crumpled Tape Ripped at Both Ends


Hey there, I'm Elisse,

the author of the Something Wicked series. I have no patience for bullshit, lots of words to share, and love fiercely.

Talking smack is a transferable skill I've brought from my life to my writing. I've practiced this ability by running tabletop roleplay games, teaching English to super awesome disengaged young folks, and mumming at three miniature humans of my own.

I live, work and learn on the Wadawurrung lands of the Kulin Nation and acknowledge that the First Nations' people have a deep and magical connection to their lands, which they have never ceded.

Everyone should have a safer space

I love romance

...but there isn't room in my life for toxicity. Give me big, wholesome and heartfelt!

There's enough hard stuff in the world without accidentally having your trauma responses triggered by a book you're reading - so I've tried to use what I know to make my stories safer.

Stories, however, are built on conflict. I've done my best to make mine respectful, but I'm always trying to grow.

If you pick up on something within any of my content that feels problematic or minimises your experiences, please reach out.

So, he could be a hard arse. That was good to know. Sometimes hard arses made good allies.

Sometimes I climbed over their corpses.

~Aurora 'Rory' Gold

Hand painted yellow watercolor background
Melbourne Urban Street Art
Paper Ripped Frame
Paint Splatter Illustration
Abstract Splatter Illustration
Red and Blue Abstract Painting
Abstract Splatter Illustration
Scattered Ink Spots
Paint Splatter Illustration
Standing Woman in a Dress Silhouette Illustration

Sneaky snippet

“You’re home safe.” His eyes dropped to my lips, then further down to where I was no longer plastered against him. “Go get into bed. Think of me.” He swooped in, pressed another kiss to my lips, then took the door and closed it behind himself.

I stood there, scowling at it. “Fuck.”

“I heard that,” he said, from the other side of the door.

“It was a proposition,” I said, hands on my hips.

“No, it wasn’t. Lock this.”

“I’m warded to Timbuktu.” I reached forward anyway.

“I don’t know where that is, or how it’s warded, but lock the damn door.”

Stormy Cloud Weather
Burshes in Mug and Palette

My links





© Elisse Hay 2023