Thirteen years ago, I was perched on a bench overlooking Costa Rica’s Pacific coast—laptop on my knees, coffee in hand, the surf’s steady roar urging me onward. I was deep into writing A Warrior’s Heart: Perseverance, and every sunrise felt like a personal call to lean deeper into Graham’s journey—and my own.
I can still taste that salty breeze as I typed sword drills in my mind, tea ceremonies at sunset and Master Akio’s tough-love questions echoing (“Why you come here? Why you want me be your Master?”). I remember tears blurring the screen during Graham’s breakthrough moment—accepting the fierce love he’d always carried for his mentor.
Writing in that little beach hut—wood floor damp, palms swaying overhead—gave the story its pulse. It grounded every sword clash, every crisis, every quiet cup of tea in real salt air and sunrise glow.
Thirteen years on, I still hear those waves whisper, “Persevere.” To everyone who’s turned a page, shared your thoughts or simply felt the call of a warrior’s heart—thank you. If you haven’t yet walked Inspiration Island with Graham and Akio, now’s your moment. Surf’s up, hearts open—let’s dive in together. ❤️🌊🗡️
P.S. The trilogy continued with Convocation, where I explore the deeper bonds that unite a warrior’s heart to the world beyond the ring.
What you might not know about A Warrior’s Heart: Perseverance is that I was wrestling with a massive memory-loss battle at the time, thanks to mercury toxicity. Writing Graham’s journey of resilience, while I could barely recall what I had for breakfast, it felt like I was fighting with blindfolds on.
Every sunrise on Black Beach, coffee in hand, I’d stare at the surf and whisper, “Remember why you came here.” I pieced together chapters from fragments of intuition, emotional flashbacks, and the occasional note scribbled on a napkin. It wasn’t until 2014 that my memories started to trickle back—moments I once took for granted felt like rediscovered treasures.
So when you read Graham’s breakthroughs and Master Akio’s tough-love questions, know they’re forged from my very real struggle to remember who I was, what I loved, and why I refuse to quit. Here’s to perseverance in every form—even the ones written in the fog of forgotten days. ❤️🌊🗡️