Under the imprint of Mnemosynic Psychora, the author explores the fragile intersections of memory, identity, and the shadows of human desire. Writing is not approached as a pastime but as an excavation, a deliberate act of peeling away the layers of human psychology to expose what lies beneath: the unspeakable fears, the forbidden longings, and the truths that hover between confession and silence.
The author grew up surrounded by stories. There were folk tales whispered in the evening, newspaper headlines drenched in crime, and the quiet, unfinished narratives of people whose lives intersected briefly and then vanished into the margins. These fragments became obsessions. They turned into questions that ordinary answers could not resolve. Why do people repeat destructive cycles even when they recognize them? Why does love sometimes mask itself as violence and why does violence sometimes disguise itself as love? Why do secrets have more weight than truths?
Rather than treating writing as escape, the author treats it as confrontation. Every page becomes an arena where characters are forced to wrestle with their own duality, and where readers are invited to look at themselves through unsettling mirrors. The stories written under Mnemosynic Psychora do not promise comfort. They promise clarity within discomfort. They promise to reveal the haunting undercurrents that most people avoid until those undercurrents rise like tides.
The Seven Confessions is part of this continuing exploration. On the surface it is a thriller romance, a narrative of crime and passion entangled in prison walls. At its core it is an anatomy of obsession. The character of Rafael Manuel, with his magnetic intelligence and manipulative charm, is less an invention than a reflection of archetypes drawn from real lives and criminal histories. Stacy Bendoy, the ambitious journalist who becomes entangled in his web, embodies the delicate balance between professional pursuit and personal vulnerability. Through their encounters, the novel dissects how truth can be weaponized, how intimacy can transform into a battlefield, and how love, when stripped of its illusions, can resemble a final confession more dangerous than any crime.
The author’s philosophy is that fiction should never merely entertain. It should unsettle, provoke, and demand that readers carry the story beyond the page. A book ends when the reader closes it, but its residue should remain long after, surfacing in dreams, questions, or quiet moments of recognition. To write is to plant echoes. To read is to allow those echoes to shape the silence that follows.
Mnemosynic Psychora, the literary home for these works, is named for two concepts. Memory, drawn from Mnemosyne of Greek mythology, represents the persistence of what is remembered and the distortion of what is forgotten. Mnemosynic Psychora, a composite, evokes both psyche and aura, the soul’s atmosphere and the intangible presence that lingers around human choices. Together, the imprint embodies the conviction that literature is not just story but atmosphere, an immersion into memory’s shadows and the aura of human complexity.
The author draws inspiration from psychological case studies, criminology, folklore, and the blurred line between fact and fiction. Long hours are spent researching the anatomy of lies, the science of memory, and the cultural contexts that shape human vulnerability. Yet research is never presented as academic distance. It is filtered through empathy, because the darkest characters are never only villains. They are broken people whose fractures mirror those of the world around them.
The writing process under Mnemosynic Psychora is both ritual and discipline. Drafts begin as confessions, raw and unstructured, written as if the characters themselves are whispering or demanding to be heard. Revisions become interrogations, where each line must justify its existence and each scene must hold tension. The final draft is not seen as perfection but as a living text, one that breathes differently for each reader who enters its pages.
Beyond writing, the author values dialogue with readers. Letters, reviews, and conversations are not dismissed as external noise but regarded as part of the text’s afterlife. Every interpretation is valid, every discomfort significant, every question an extension of the story’s reach. In truth, no book is ever finished. It continues to live through those who carry it with them, consciously or unconsciously, as part of their own narrative.
The author dedicates The Seven Confessions to those who are unafraid of looking into darkness, not because they seek it, but because they understand that only by facing shadows can one measure the depth of light. These stories belong to readers who crave intensity, who are drawn to the dangerous beauty of human complexity, and who recognize that sometimes the most terrifying confessions are also the most tender.
Through Mnemosynic Psychora, the author will continue to craft works that inhabit the borderlands of thriller and romance, fear and desire, crime and intimacy. Each book is an invitation to step into a labyrinth where memory is unreliable, love is dangerous, and confession is never simple. Readers who accept the invitation will discover not just a story but a mirror that dares to reflect what lingers in the hidden corners of the human heart.
and then Add to home screen.