When Zakarrie was little and dreamed big, she wanted to be a writer. Just like Enid Blyton. Or p'raps not...having been most remiss on the lashings of ginger beer front.
After moving to London at eighteen and flitting about for far too long, she finally settled, as blissy as can be, by the sea. When her castaway dreams resurfaced, they were believed into being by the warm words of friends who breathed life into her own. Her one wish now is that someone, somewhere, might enjoy the misadventures of her miscreants as much as she adores writing them.