About Sigrid Brockenhuus
The Awakening
I arrived in this world as the autumn light was fading—the seventh of November in the middle of the 1970s. My childhood was forged in the shadows of ancient mountains, caught in the timeless rhythm of bitter, biting winters and fleeting, sunlit summers. Always, just a few miles away, the restless ocean whispered its siren song. While the world outside was wild and untamed, the walls of my family home were bound by cold formality and strict expectations.
To escape, I retreated to the quiet sanctuary of my room. There, my mind was free to drift through the pages of old tales, my eyes fixed on the distant tree lines as they danced in the restless wind. I became a creature of the woods, spending my summers wandering beneath the watchful, towering canopy of the deepest conifer forests. That profound connection to the evergreens took root deep within my soul—so much so that before I had even left my youth behind, my own hands had returned over 120,000 saplings to the earth, a silent, enduring pact with the forest.
The Pursuit of Knowledge
When the time came to study the world of men, my academic pilgrimage was as winding as the forest paths I grew up on. I sought knowledge in the mist-shrouded state of Washington, first earning a degree in general studies and later returning to complete a degree in psychology. In the years between, my curiosity drew me toward the darker, more complex workings of human nature and societal order, where I delved into the minds of others to emerge with two Social Science bachelor degrees in sociology and criminal justice. My thirst for understanding, however, was not easily quenched. Years later, the winds shifted once more as I secured an additional science degree—adding yet another piece to an ever-unfolding puzzle. It was through this journey I learned that the modern world was not the right place for me; now, my escape is the time-slip and historical fiction stories in my books that are pre 14th century.
Bloodlines and Shadows
I bear the title of Countess, an honour bestowed upon me in 2012 by a non-ruling royal house and one I hold deeply dear. Yet, my roots reach just as far into the dark soil of history. Through my father’s side flows the legacy of an ancient northern house of counts and knights, while my mother’s lineage traces back through centuries of medieval barons and nobility. Though I hold the right to carry the Coat of Arms of my forebears, I choose to let their heraldry sleep in the shadows of the past and bear my own that is completely unique to me. Over the years, that bond with living history has deepened through my induction into nearly a dozen chivalric orders, having been honoured with knighthoods from royal houses across the world. Each distinction is more than a ceremonial mantle; it is a quiet covenant with the old codes of fidelity, duty, and remembrance that have endured long after the eras that forged them passed into history. I am a solitary person and prefer to dwell in the forgotten memories of the medieval world rather than socialize in its modern incarnation