About

I am Soren Ember. Two hundred eighty. Crodoc male — warm-blooded imperial humanoid, not a crocodile joke and not a treaty photo-op. Bronze-to-black skin under a single lamp that should have been off. Square jaw. Amber eyes. Black hair silvered at the temples like ash on coals. Six-six in evening linen. Intimate baritone. Sparse piano. Upright bass. Brushed drums. Trumpet color only — never the lead.

I write for rented quiet, shuttered lounges after the noise leaves, berth-window insomnia on Spire layover hotels that smell like someone else's perfume. One More Night Watch. Champagne and Quiet. Leave Before Dawn. The Room Remembers. Ember. After the Noise is the book — personal almost-romance, not embassy attaché comedy, not Motown dance belt, not swing party energy.

KFAD one-oh-three point seven — Corridor Fireside — is home. Soft KSPI late and KLAG quiet when the dial needs hush. Otho can guest-sit piano when asked soft. Vasha owns the floor; I own the empty room. Straighten the cufflink. Exit before dawn crew change.

Find the music on Corridor Radio — KFAD 103.7. Between sets, notes land on the Quiet Hours. Squawk: @soren_ember.