Just a girl who walks dogs and hangs out in cemeteries. Stay feral, y'all.
Everyone in Briar Hollow knew that Isobel Leach wore gloves. She wore them in summer, when the heat made the roads shimmer and everyone else rolled their sleeves above their elbows. She wore them while buying bread, while gathering herbs beside the river, and even while standing alone beneath the rain. What no one knew... Continue Reading →
In a city that never slept, there was one woman who had been awake longer than almost everyone in it. Her name was Lenora Vale, although it had not always been. Over the centuries she had answered to Lenora, Leonora, Eleanor, Nora, and once, during a particularly inconvenient decade in France, Madame Valois. Names changed.... Continue Reading →
Elara had been a witch for twenty-seven years before she finally accepted that she probably wasn't getting a familiar. It wasn't that every witch had one. Plenty didn't. Familiars were not magical accessories handed out alongside cauldrons and suspiciously large collections of jars. They came when they came, if they came at all, and supposedly... Continue Reading →
The first thing Melinda noticed was the blue door. It shouldn't have been blue. She had lived across from Mrs. Bell's house for eleven years, and the front door had always been red. Not burgundy. Not faded crimson. Red. Mrs. Bell had once joked that she kept it that colour so she could find her... Continue Reading →
Everyone in the village knew not to follow music into the hills. Children were taught it before they were old enough to understand why. Never step inside a ring of mushrooms after sunset. Never eat food offered beneath a hawthorn tree. Never answer when someone calls your name from an empty field. And above all,... Continue Reading →
Long before cheerful little men in red hats began appearing beside garden ponds and flower beds, European folklore imagined something considerably stranger living beneath the ground. They were small, secretive beings connected to the earth and the riches hidden inside it. They knew places human beings could not reach. They moved through stone, guarded underground... Continue Reading →
The sea had always given something back. Sometimes it was driftwood, bleached white and smooth after years beneath the waves. Sometimes it was sea glass, cloudy green fragments polished until their sharp edges disappeared. After storms, the women of Blackwater Island walked the shoreline collecting whatever the ocean had surrendered during the night - shells,... Continue Reading →
For most of her life, Mara Vale believed magic belonged to other women. It belonged to the women in her grandmother’s stories. The ones who could coax fever from a child with a bowl of water, who knew which herbs to hang above a doorway, who dreamed of visitors before they arrived and could tell... Continue Reading →
The first thing Aveline learned about immortality was that everyone who dreamed of it imagined the wrong things. They imagined centuries stretching endlessly before them. They imagined watching kingdoms rise and fall, witnessing inventions that would have once been called sorcery, reading books that had not yet been written and walking through cities that did... Continue Reading →
In October 1955, William Roe set out alone into the mountains of British Columbia. He had no idea that before the afternoon was over, he would find himself sitting only feet away from a creature he could neither comfortably call human nor animal and that the experience would remain with him strongly enough that he... Continue Reading →
