Thomas Gannon
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thomasgannon.bsky.social
Thomas Gannon
@thomasgannon.bsky.social
890 followers 2K following 7 posts
Engineer by day, Writer by dream

✍️📚 YA Dystopian Fantasy / Adult SFF

🇮🇪✈️🌍⚽️🏎️📸🎬🎵
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thomasgannon.bsky.social
YA LOTR

Wren was supposed to be the chosen one–until her brother claimed her place in the prophecy for himself and defected to the enemy. Now, Wren must prove to herself that she does not need to be a child of the prophecy to make a difference, and to defeat the Dark Lord.

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Pitch text for a YA Fantasy novel, "Children of Qandar" by Thomas Gannon The Pitch: Sixteen-year-old Wren Rancour was raised to be a rebel. As the daughter of a Great House that lost everything in the war, Wren was supposed to be a child of the prophecy—which states that one child born to each of the nine Great Houses of Qandar are destined to decide the fate of the kingdom. But when her brother, Kellen, claimed her place in the prophecy for himself and defected to the enemy’s side, Wren was left behind—stuck playing caretaker to their sick mother, and doubting whether she was ever destined to make a difference. As the Dark Lord grows stronger, his forces attack Wren’s village, and her mother is killed. Determined to strike back, Wren must prove to herself that she does not need to be a child of the prophecy to make a difference in this war, to protect the people she loves and to fight for what she believes in. Wren must assemble the Chosen Nine of the prophecy, confront the brother who betrayed her, and destroy the Catseye–the magical relic that fuels the Dark Lord’s power–even if it costs her her life. Mood Board for Children of Qandar. 3x3 grid with images of a raven carrying a dagger, a girl throwing a knife, silhouettes of a girl with a dagger and a boy with a sword running through a dark forest, a close-up of a girl's midriff with knives strapped to her waist, the text "The Raven's Blade shall break the chains", a close up of a boy's midriff with a sword strapped to his back, a girl's hands covered in blood, a girl's boot laced up, and a girl and boy's hands reaching to grab each other A grid of comp titles for this book featuring: The Ivory Key, The Final Strife, The Jasmine Throne, She Who Became the Sun, Lord of the Rings, Godkiller, Mistborn, Shadow and Bone, and Heroes of Olympus. A list of things featured in the book, including: Found family, ensemble cast, Not the chosen one, perilous quest, rebellion, morally grey characters, twisty prophecy, no character is safe, shifting allegiances and betrayals, M/F, M/M and F/F romance Reader quotes: “It’s like a YA Lord of the Rings!” “Holy Crap! George R. R. Martin would be proud.” “You killed ****!!! We are no longer friends!!!” “I am SCREAMING!!” “YAY!! I was really hoping they would get together!!”
February 26, 2025 at 10:59 AM
thomasgannon.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
From: Children of Qandar

No “whim” today so going for “instinct” instead

CW for violence for Wren’s first kill

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Screenshot from Microsoft Word. Text: The first few soldiers she struck dropped to the ground, writhing in pain but still alive. Her daggers found their mark, slicing arms and thighs, nicking ribs and stomachs, but Wren hesitated to deal the final blow. As skilled as Wren was, she had never experienced real battle like this before. She had never killed. Then, one of the soldiers cornered her. His red face contorted in a terrible snarl, nostrils flared, baring teeth like fangs. A horrible vein pulsed in his neck, as if trying to escape from his skin. She tried to back away, but found herself pressed against the cold stone of the cavern wall. The man crept toward her, licking his lips. He surged forward, raising his blade high, and Wren’s chest tightened as panic swirled within her. She reacted on instinct, slashing her dagger across the man’s throat. Blood sprayed, and the man crumpled at her feet. Wren stared down at him, her heart racing. She watched him claw at what remained of his throat, his frantic eyes slowing as the life drained from them, until at last, he fell still. The reality of what she had just done hit her like a blow to the chest. He was dead. She had killed him. Her hand trembled slightly, as she eyed the blood dripping from her dagger. She willed herself to focus. There had been no other choice. It was either him or her.
February 21, 2025 at 10:30 AM
thomasgannon.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
From: Children of Qandar

No “plaque” today so we’re doing “sign” !

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#BookSky 💙📚🪐
Screenshot from Microsoft Word. Text: A strangled cry sounded nearby as the final skirmishes of resistance began to sputter out. Kellen turned to find Baron striding toward him, his usual calm demeanour a sharp contrast to the carnage that surrounded them. His blonde hair and silver armour glimmered in the moonlight, and Kellen felt a strange relief settle in his chest. Baron was unharmed – the only signs that he had been in battle at all were the streaks of blood on his armour and the severity in his face. As Baron approached, Kellen’s eyes studied the pattern of blood, neatly streaked across his chest as if painted delicately. It was the mark of a warrior who fought with deliberate, decisive blows, preferring to give his foes a merciful end rather than a torturous, drawn-out defeat. Kellen appreciated every inch of him that was not covered in blood.
February 20, 2025 at 2:01 PM
thomasgannon.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
From: Children of Qandar

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Screenshot from Microsoft Word. Text: Wren hesitated, glancing over the ledge at Rowan one last time, trying to channel some of his bravery. “You’ve got this!” he shouted. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back into the tunnel. She set her sight on the ledge in front of her, and charged toward it. She launched herself into the air, putting as much distance between herself and the rockface as she could, just as Rowan had told her. The wind whistled in her ears as she plummeted towards the water below. For a fleeting moment, she felt a terrifying sense of euphoria, unlike anything she had ever known. And then she hit the water. The cold shock of the pond enveloped her as she plunged, deeper and deeper. She flailed, disoriented, as her descent beneath the surface finally slowed. That same faint yellow glow seemed to flicker across her skin before quickly fading once more, but there was no time to dwell on that. In her panic, she realised she had forgotten one crucial step to freediving – she had forgotten to hold her breath.
February 19, 2025 at 9:17 AM
thomasgannon.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
From: Children of Qandar

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Screenshot from Microsoft Word. Text: Wren clenched her jaw, bending to pick up the spoon. “It’s just a bird, Mother. Kellen’s not here. He hasn’t been here for years. He left us, remember?” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from creeping into her voice. Wren had barely been twelve when her older brother, Kellen, had marched off to join the Dark Lord’s army, leaving behind a broken mother and a crumbling home. That was four years ago now. Their mother had been like this ever since. Kellen had taken her last bit of sanity with him when he left. Wren clenched her fist around the spoon, its metal biting into her skin. Their mother wasn’t the only one Kellen had abandoned. Her mother’s gaze drifted back from the window, meeting Wren’s eye again. Wren’s anger faded into sadness as she watched the brief flicker of hope in her mother’s eyes dwindle, fading to the familiar, unfocused, blank stare. “The Raven’s Blade shall break the chains…” Wren’s hands shook as she placed the spoon back in the bowl. She knew the phrase meant nothing, some meaningless fragment caught in her mother’s fractured mind. Still, the words crawled under her skin. The Raven was their family’s sigil, the crest of House Rancour. Wren’s weapon of choice, the dagger she carried, sheathed beneath her cloak, bore a raven engraved in its hilt. But the rest – breaking chains? It was nonsense.
February 18, 2025 at 8:50 AM
thomasgannon.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
From: Children of Qandar

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Screenshot from Microsoft Word. Text: They pushed forward for what might have been an hour, plunging deeper into The Westwood. The moon hung high overhead now, occasionally peeking through gaps in the gnarled branches of the canopy, its timid light filtering down in sparse, silvery beams. The ancient trees seemed to grow taller as they moved. They towered around them, their trunks broad and knotted, and draped with damp moss that glimmered softly where the moonlight touched it. Serpentine vines twisted around the trunks, and clusters of night-blooming foxglove darted between patches of brambles, their bell-shaped blossoms sprinkling pops of pinkish-purple against the darkness. They were far from the village now, far from the battle.
February 16, 2025 at 9:15 AM
thomasgannon.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
From: Children of Qandar

#YAFantasy
#AmWriting #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
Screenshot from Microsoft Word. Text: The town hall was crowded when Wren arrived. The building sat in the heart of the village, a sturdy stone structure adorned with thick wooden beams and a thatched roof that sagged gently under the weight of time. Inside, hung warm, flickering torches that cast shadows dancing across rough-hewn walls. Long, oak tables had been pushed together, strewn with crumpled papers and hastily forgotten tankards. Townsfolk filled the room, a choir of unintelligible murmurs buzzing with urgency. Wren’s nose wrinkled as the smell of burning tallow mingled with the earthy tones of damp stone and wood. She didn’t particularly care for the scent, but at least it helped to mask the stench of the townsfolk – many of whom had not bathed in days.
February 15, 2025 at 9:08 AM