She is dead, her face a tiny moon – pallid and yellowing, her mouth a bruised plum…
Read MoreStarker than the pink of a laboratory rabbit’s eye the rowan is warning me. I made a mound to your memory, a circle of berries set in a garden of ash.
Read MoreShe’s a Chinese-styled tomb memory. Made in a thunderstorm. With a cup that never stays cupped in her hands. But tilts the way her head inclines. Coquettishly over one shoulder.
Read MoreI had come to anticipate, the notes he left on her door, the dry authoritarian tone, that never let her forget, his role as progenitor of her life…
Read MoreEmbla woke up shaking and afraid. The moon pushing into the small window of her bedroom threw the beams against the ceiling like the bones of a broken rib-cage.
Read MoreWhen traditional shapeshifting witch, Sophie Jack Crow, is sent to school by social services to ‘flourish’ she not only learns how to get on with the Regular girls in her town, she also unwittingly starts a war between her grandmothers, an investigation into the process of Integration of people from the Magical world into the Regular one and helps track down her missing father who has spent the last seven years imprisoned as a bird of a different feather.
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