About Alexandra Winter

My name is Alexandra Winter

born in 1987 in a small, misty village in the Carpathian Mountains of Romania, was a mysterious and enigmatic writer whose works blurred the line between reality and fantasy. From childhood, Alexandra grew up with local folklore stories; her mother, a teller of ancient tales, would tell her at night about wandering spirits and magical forests. Her father, a precise watchmaker, taught her that time is not linear, but cyclical and full of invisible loops. This combination turned Alexandra into a writer in whose books, clocks run backwards and spirits drink tea with humans.

In her teenage years, Alexandra moved to Bucharest and studied literature at university, but the classes were boring for her. She preferred to sit in old cafes at night and talk to strangers, steal their stories and weave them into her notebook. Her first book, "Forgotten Shadows," was published in 2012 – a Gothic novel about a city where people's shadows come to life and rebel against their owners. This book, with its sudden sales, brought Alexandra fame, but she never appeared in interviews. She said: "My words are enough; my face is just another shadow."

Alexandra's personal life was full of ambiguity. It was rumored that she married a mysterious painter whose paintings predicted the future, but there was no evidence. She lived in a wooden cabin in the forests of Transylvania, where black cats were her guardians and the winds whispered new stories. Her subsequent works, such as "Broken Time Wheel" (2015) and "Dance of Spirits" (2018), explored themes of time, death, and forbidden love. Critics called her the "Poet of Darkness," but Alexandra wrote in an anonymous letter: "Darkness is just a mirror for light."

In 2023, Alexandra disappeared. Her last book, "The Last Shadow," remained unfinished, and it was rumored that she had gone into the world of her own stories. Her fans still search for her in the forests, and sometimes a sound like whispering words is heard. Alexandra Winter, a writer whose life was itself a novel – fictional, but eternal.

 These Are My Writings