Friend to dogs, writer, cult fiend, and part-time wage slave to the illuminati, A. M. Blaushild has an understandable lack of free time. With an attitude best described as 'naively cheerful', A. M. has only recently been thrust toward the adult world, and her peaceful optimism is still going strong. Subsiding on possibly the world's worst diet, A. M. is driven to write more than most humans should—she has been accused more than once of being a robot.
Though she desperately tries to write a diverse portfolio of subjects, but angels tend to get tangled in there fairly often. She seems to have some sort of weird thing for cults as well, and boy, nothing really pumps her up like a good old-fashioned angel cult.
When she isn't off adding to her manuscript collection, A. M. enjoys long walks in the pitch black of night, the company of friends and cats, and wearing cute clothes.