Search Results

If you love mysterious, romantic stories peppered with Irish folklore, mythology, and literature, then Sharon Lynn Fisher’s novel, The Absinthe Earl , is a must add to your reading list! The first stand-alone book in Fisher’s Faery Rehistory series, The Absinthe Earl  takes place in 19th century Ireland as Miss Ada Quicksilver, a student from London’s Lovelace Academy for Promising Young Women, investigates the link between consuming absinthe and faery sightings by visiting one of Dublin’s famous absinthe bars. While there, she meets Edward Donoghue, the Earl of Meath and cousin of the mad Queen Isolde, who is an avid consumer of absinthe due to a mysterious affliction. Sparks fly as Ada’s academic and romantic interests collide, taking her on a journey through centuries of Irish history and storytelling. Told in the alternating perspectives of Ada and Edward, this captivating narrative keeps readers emotionally engaged in both the budding romance between the protagonists and the dark mysteries standing in their way. Ada and Edward are fully drawn characters with deep personal investments in the faery realm, and their unique voices propel the story forward. Readers are introduced to faery mounds, the Tuatha Dé Danan, the Morrigan, pucas, red caps, water horses, Irish mermaids, and a host of restless souls cursed to rise in the night air, but Fisher offers readers more than a stunning look at Irish folklore and mythology. She also weaves and refashions Irish history, legend, and literature with exciting references to the pirate Grace O’Malley, Queen Elizabeth, and William Butler Yeats. Fisher’s novel blends dark academia, fairy lore, and Victorian romance to a stunning effect, and her writing is as addictive as absinthe itself. Fisher’s extensive research makes this book a joy to read, but the folkloric information never gets in the way of the adventure, mystery, or romance. Like her witchy Jane Eyre retelling, Salt and Broom , The Absinthe Earl  weaves an entirely new story from old material, and its creative blend of traditional folklore and 19th century romance will captivate readers. I loved The Absinthe Earl  and I can’t wait to read the next two installments of the Faery Rehistory series, The Raven Lady  and The Warrior Poet . You can find the collection of three books here . Kelly Jarvis works as the Assistant Editor for The Fairy Tale Magazine where she writes stories, poems, essays, book reviews, and interviews. Her poetry has also been featured or is forthcoming in Blue Heron Review , Mermaids Monthly , Eternal Haunted Summer, Forget Me Not Press, The Magic of Us, A Moon of One’s Own, Baseball Bard , and Corvid Queen.  Her short fiction has appeared in The Chamber Magazine  and the World Weaver Press Anthology Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers . You can connect with her on Facebook (Kelly Jarvis, Author) or Instagram (@kellyjarviswriter) or find her at https://kellyjarviswriter.com/

Below are the chosen authors for the Fall/Winter 2024 issue. We are proud of the selections and think these works will make up a fantastic issue! There are no more submission opportunities for this year. We will announce the fundraising contest winners in September. (The contest has ended.) The winners will have their own mini issue. Stories Yitz Francus Jess Feder Caitlin Quinn Alison Weber Mandira Patnaik Robert Lupton  Katie Mansion  Christine Wheaton Charlie Byers  Poems Jean Feldeisen Janessa Keeling Ngo Binh Anh Khoa Kylie Roberts Caroline Johnson Tonia Kalouria Jenny Thompson These works will join works by staff members. Thank you to all who submitted this year. Image from Pixabay.

In the story of Cinderella, the protagonist is banished to the chimney corner where she sits among the cinders and ashes. It is a pointed way for the persecuting stepmother and stepsisters to let Cinderella know where she stands in terms of family importance, but I have always thought that Cinderella’s sojourn by the fireside was more than just a punishment. The hearth, often the physical center of a home, serves as an emotional center as well, and, for Cinderella, it is a place where the grieving girl is comforted by the light and warmth of her mother’s memory. The hearth was so important to the Ancient Greeks that one of six Olympian gods, Hestia, reigned over it. The first born child of Cronus and Rhea, Hestia was assigned the task of maintaining the fires of the Olympian hearth, and whenever food was cooked in the mortal realm, a small offering was burnt in her honor. Hestia stayed close to the immovable hearth, so she is often the forgotten sibling among her brothers (Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades) and sisters (Hera and Demeter). She is not lauded in the wild stories that circulate about the antics of the gods and goddesses, but, according to Homer, it was Hestia, the domestic goddess of the hearth, who was chief among mortals. Even in the 21st Century, when we cook in ovens, microwaves, and crock-pots (or, my favorite, order take-away), the hearth remains the center of the home. My own home is crafted of small rooms, and in each one, I have a hearth, either gas, wood burning, or electric. We don’t use them as sources of heat, though the flames take the chill out of the air on a crisp, autumn day. Our hearths are mostly decorative, and they serve as gathering places for our family and friends. Yesterday was the Autumnal Equinox, and my hearths stood ready to greet the beginning of the dark half of the year. One of my hearths is overflowing with sparkling pumpkins and maple leaves, while another is piled high with spell books, potion bottles, and flickering lanterns that represent my dark side (because all women, be they fairy tale protagonists or goddesses, have one). The decor of my hearths changes with the seasons. I add evergreen boughs for winter, bunnies for spring, and seashells for the long, hot summer, but it is always my hearths that welcome my family home, beckoning my husband and to sit together by the twinkling lights and share the stories of their day.  Cinderella and Hestia may have been relegated to the hearth, but I like to think the hearth is the place from which they drew their strength, a center that offered them peace, comfort, light, and warmth. Even this column, Cinderella’s Hearth , started by The Fairy Tale Magazine’s founder and resident Fairy Godmother Kate Wolford, is a virtual gathering place for tips and ideas that help all of us to enchant our lives with practical magic. I hope you take some time to add meaningful objects to your own hearths this season (be they mantles, shelves, tables, corners, or even the hidden spaces inside your heart), because after a long day, there is nothing like a hearth to welcome us home.   Kelly Jarvis works as the Assistant Editor for The Fairy Tale Magazine where she writes stories, poems, essays, book reviews, and interviews. Her poetry has also been featured or is forthcoming in Blue Heron Review , Mermaids Monthly , Eternal Haunted Summer,   Forget Me Not Press, The Magic of Us, A Moon of One’s Own,   Baseball Bard , and Corvid Queen.  Her short fiction has appeared in The Chamber Magazine  and the World Weaver Press Anthology Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers . You can connect with her on Facebook (Kelly Jarvis, Author) or Instagram (@kellyjarviswriter) or find her at https://kellyjarviswriter.com/

I love Alice Hoffman’s writing, and I have long been a fan of her work, but her latest novel, When We Flew Away, awed me with its beautiful blend of devastating history and fairy tale enchantment. When We Flew Away  tells the heavily researched but fictional story of Anne Frank and her family who have taken shelter in Amsterdam to escape the horrors of the Nazi regime. Although the family has found relative safety at the outset of the novel, they are aware of the growing dangers facing those of Jewish ancestry and faith, and they are actively seeking safety in America. As political circumstances in the Netherlands become dire over the two year span of the novel, the family struggles to maintain the artfully cultivated sense of peace that has helped them to survive in the face of overwhelming cultural and personal despair.   In When We Flew Away , Hoffman weaves the history of Anne Frank and her family with myth, legend, and fairy tale to a brilliant effect. Anne and her older sister Margot, who are analogous to the two sisters featured in The Brothers Grimm fairy tale “Snow White and Rose Red,” are as different from one another as they can be. Margot follows the rules, while Anne, who is gifted with an incredible imagination, likes to break them. Anne believes in wishing, and she sees the Netherlands as a world of ice in winter and tulips in spring, an outlook that later aligns with Hoffman’s brilliant exploration of life and death in the myth of Demeter, Persephone, and Hades. Anne questions why men have more freedom than women and wonders why people fall in love. She talks to the magpies, dreams of becoming a writer, and pretends the stars her family are forced to wear have fallen from the sky because “you {have} to pretend some things in order to remain human.” While war rages around them, moving ever closer, the Frank family finds a way to live in the shadow of death, navigating both joy and loss, ultimately concluding that “love is everything, love is everywhere, it’s the one thing they can never take away from you.” The title of the novel When We Flew Away  refers to the flight of Jewish people trying to escape persecution, but it also refers to our desire to break the bonds of earth and soar away to a place more humane than the one we occupy, a place where Anne Frank, who died at the tender age of fifteen, might have lived to share her potential with the world. And yet, as sad as the stark realities behind both The Diary of Anne Frank  and When We Flew Away are, the texts provide hope to their readers. In her author’s note at the back of the book, Hoffman explains that when she read Anne Frank’s diary as a child, it changed the person she would become and helped her to realize she could be a writer. Now, Hoffman has used her own brand of story magic to breathe new insight into the life and death of Anne Frank and all those who perished with her. Hoffman’s fictional account, which is highly recommended by the executive director of the Anne Frank House, adds poignancy and meaning to the history of World War II and the stories we tell about it. Anne Frank’s words changed Alice Hoffman’s life, and Alice Hoffman’s words will help a new generation of readers to discover Anne Frank, proving that even when hate seems strong, love is stronger, and that even when books are banned, stories will always go on. Both Frank and Hoffman teach readers that storytelling and imagination can transform and save the world. “What happened once can happen again,” this book explains, and if there was ever a time to understand our history and contemplate the stories we tell about it, that time is now. Hoffman’s ability to honor the content of Anne Frank’s diary while embellishing her experience with fictional detail is pure literary enchantment, and it will help readers to better understand the pain and loss behind the historical statistics they learn in school. In Hoffman’s skilled hands, Anne Frank becomes a fully formed little girl with strengths, weaknesses, hopes, and dreams. When We Flew Away  will move readers to tears, but it will also fill them with an appreciation for life itself. Hoffman’s stunning novel ensures that the story of the holocaust and the people who lived through it will never be forgotten. When We Flew Away  is a novel I plan to teach in my Young Adult Literature and Children’s Literature classes, and I will recommend that my students, who are all future K-12 teachers, share the book with their students as well. Read on its own or paired with The Diary Of Anne Frank , Hoffman’s novel will provide a wealth of opportunities for children and adults to contemplate the darkest and brightest aspects of human life, and it should be required reading for every student in America and around the world.   When We Flew Away  is a heartbreaking, breathtaking, and beautifully crafted book. You can find it here . Thank you to NetGalley for a free copy of the book in exchange for a fair review. Kelly Jarvis works as the Assistant Editor for The Fairy Tale Magazine where she writes stories, poems, essays, book reviews, and interviews. Her poetry has also been featured or is forthcoming in Blue Heron Review , Mermaids Monthly , Eternal Haunted Summer, Forget Me Not Press, The Magic of Us, A Moon of One’s Own, Baseball Bard , and Corvid Queen.  Her short fiction has appeared in The Chamber Magazine  and the World Weaver Press Anthology Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers . You can connect with her on Facebook (Kelly Jarvis, Author) or Instagram (@kellyjarviswriter) or find her at https://kellyjarviswriter.com/

Editor’s Note : This bittersweet gem is from 2019. Her beloved tree curved into the shape of a heart at its center... On the day that Princess Eleanor’s betrothal was announced, her favorite olive tree died. The most striking thing about the tree was that its two main boughs had curved into the shape of a heart at the tree’s center. Lightning struck it during a September thunderstorm and broke the heart. It severed the trunk halfway so that the tree leaned over, exposing all its heartwood to the driving rains. The tree was as beloved by Eleanor as family, so Hugh was surprised it didn’t bleed as it lay exposed to the elements, but no one asked the thoughts of a squire. To Hugh, the tree’s broken heart was a sign that the Princess didn’t love her betrothed. Although he was heartsore at the tree’s death, it also gave him hope. As a lowly squire, he’d never spent as much time with Eleanor as he would have liked. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he also didn’t believe that it took long to see someone’s true heart. In a kingdom beset with treachery and selfishness, he’d never met anyone with Eleanor’s goodness. Instead of isolating herself behind palace walls, she tended to the sick and poor within the village. It was during these times that he got to know her. There were times when her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary when he spoke; when a slow flush would spread across her cheeks as if she noticed they were kindred spirits. Over the years, such events had grown more commonplace, and he knew some part of her returned his feelings. Beset with grief over losing her, he sought the advice of the royal court. “Have I a chance with her?” he asked the court astrologer. The old man looked at him with eyes that had seen ages old kingdoms fall within minutes and unspeakable evil continue for generations. “A princess is not meant for a squire,” he said through his time-streaked beard. “But I love her,” Hugh said. He wondered what the astrologer saw in his zodiac; if the mere mention of his name with Eleanor’s sent stars colliding and the world off its course. He began to tell the astrologer of her heart, but the old man interrupted him with a chuckle. “Love is a strange thing,” said the astrologer. “There are as many kinds as there are grains of sand on the shore. It never runs out, and there is always someone else waiting to accept your love. You will never have the princess. My advice to you is to find another woman.” The words stung, but Hugh’s heart was unhardened. Next, he called upon the court magician, who was said to have greater powers than anyone at court. “These are modern times,” the magician said. “We are firmly in our fifteenth century, but Paris holds on to a bit of magic yet. It delights my heart! I can cast a spell to make you a dazzling speaker, or make you grow taller. With the right words, I can make you clever, but there is no spell to make a woman love you. Even if there were, I wouldn’t be brave enough to meddle with another’s heart.” “Love is a wondrous gift. Why should it cause me such pain?” asked Hugh. “Do you mean to tell me I am really to let Eleanor marry some dignitary she’s never laid eyes on, when I could love her better?” “People are given gifts every day that cause them pain. Your tragedy is only one of thousands in this moment. You will learn to live with it, in time, and you may find that your feelings change.” I shall go to the mage, thought Hugh. I will ask her advice . Hugh found his way over deserted forest paths that whispered with the secrets of time immemorial, and he asked his intuition to guide him to the formerly sacred stone paths that once led to the temples of the gods. Eventually he came to a stone cottage hidden among curling vines and the leaves of thousands of autumns. His knocks went unanswered, and the birds above called their alarm at the sight of a human in a forgotten place. For three days, he waited outside the cottage, and when a west wind blew and the crickets shivered in response, the mage returned to her home. “Child, I was out gathering herbs. Come in,” she said, although her voice was barely more than a sigh. She examined his teeth, read his palm, and then looked at the dregs of his tea. “Your heart is broken,” she observed, going to the stove and stirring a tincture that smelled of another world’s disappointments. “Yes, my heart is broken, and I don’t know what to do,” Hugh confessed. “I have loved Eleanor for years, and now that she is to be married to someone else, I’m heartsick. At court, they all think me a fool. How is it foolish to love?” “There are some who think it’s worth saving your love for those who can accept it,” said the mage. “I say it matters not. When the world was yet an infant, I strolled through her and admired the newness of it all. Some waters granted immortality, and there were patches of earth that restored life to the dead. There was a time when I spoke the language of the trees. But, for all the miracles that I’ve witnessed in this surprising world, there is nothing to make me believe that two people can come together if they aren’t both willing. If I were you, I’d ask for strength to bear your burden. That I can provide.” “Yes!” cried Hugh. “Make me strong enough to bear it. Help me live with it, and let it never turn bitter in my heart as it does for some.” “Are you sure?” whispered the mage. “There are many kinds of strength. There’s the strength of brute bodies, and the crack of lightning. There is death, and there is also strength in the back of a humble ant. I can grant you strength, but I do not know what form it will take.” “I am certain,” said Hugh. The mage turned to the stove and added leaves from her basket. When the scent of sleep wafted through the cottage, she dipped up a ladle of her tincture. “If you mean it, take this,” she intoned. Hugh swallowed. The medicine was acrid. All the bloodshed and mercy the world had ever known spilled over his tongue. Time folded in on itself, and then there was nothing until he awoke. He was in the courtyard of the palace. His arms were poised with grace and strong enough to hold the heavens high, but his skin was soft enough to invite birds and rain. His face was immobile and eternal. Eleanor gazed upon him with exultation. “My old olive tree!” she laughed. “It’s alive, but how? Straight as an arrow once more, and the heart in the center is healed!” She leaned forward and kissed him. If Hugh had a heart, it would have beaten faster, but instead, he let his leaves translate the music of the wind. Eleanor sighed in contentment. “Indeed, I don’t know why, but this tree feels like home to me.” She curled up at the base of the trunk. “How lucky I am that my betrothed lives nearby, for I will visit as often as I like.” In the sun-dappled morning, he reached out his boughs to her, and he felt his roots fanning out, seeking her as well. She rested there all day. When at last the sun sank behind the purple-crested horizon and she went in for the night, he was not sad, for he knew she would return. Return, she did, again and again. Across fifty springs, he continued to love her. She read aloud under the shelter of his branches, and nursed her children at his foot. When her children were old enough to hear of her past life, she told them of a squire who had disappeared from court and of how she still thought of him from time to time. “We were alike,” she mused, shaking her graying head, and Hugh allowed his branches to just caress her shoulder. “I always thought he could make me happy, but we could never have been together.” The years rolled on across the horizon. Spring. Summer. Autumn. Winter. The sun rose and set. People lived and died. And still never a week went by that Eleanor did not make her way to him. As time went on, she moved slower and grew weaker, but Hugh only saw that there were tears of joy in her eyes on these visits. Memories flooded her soul in his wake. Like him, she hadn’t gotten everything she needed from life, but she had lived well nonetheless. Then the day came when she fell into that last great sleep, and at her final request, was brought there by her children and the court. They made a dark, soft bed for her and, with tears, left her to rest. Hugh’s roots moved slowly and patiently. Forever had passed, and he was in no rush to finally hold her. As the birds sang and as the seasons continued their relentless march, he continued to carefully approach her. Until at last, his roots cradled her with tenderness, and over time they embraced her until, imperceptibly, they became one. Hope Denney  writes many kinds of fiction, but her one true love will always be Southern Gothic fiction. You can find her admiring the heavens through her telescope on most nights. Her work has appeared in The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, Twisted Sister Lit Mag, Philosophical Idiot, and many other places. She tweets under the handle @HopeDenney   Image from Pixabay.

A Secret History of Witches , by Louisa Morgan, tells the sweeping story of the Orchiére women, a line of powerful witches descended from a Romani tribe of Gypsies. Divided into books named after five generations of mothers and daughters (Nanette, Ursule, Irene, Morwen, and Veronica), the novel begins in the 19th century as the matriarch of the family, the original Ursule, sacrifices herself to ensure her line can continue. Her descendants escape persecution and begin a new life on a secluded farm located along the Cornwall coast. Only a child at the time, Nanette grows up under the watchful eyes of her sisters whose magic is limited. When Nanette comes of age and is gifted with the ability to use the family’s crystal, new hope is born that the family’s magic will survive. Each gifted woman born into the Orchiére line must navigate the border between her individual desires and her commitment to the craft, and each generation faces both social challenges to and questions about their cultural and spiritual identities. I loved Morgan’s tale of generational love and trauma. Although the individual women all possess unique personalities and outlooks on their roles in life, they are united in their desire and hope to continue the line of magic by giving birth to daughters who will propel their powers forward. Although Morgan’s witches are gifted with a second sight and use both a family grimoire and a magic crystal to harness their power, they are real women who adhere to a faith rooted in traditional practices, and this allows readers to understand their individual gifts and flaws as inherently human. There are stark differences between the women; Ursule loves working with the land while Irene desires a life of luxury, Morwen finds true love while Veronica initially believes she must place duty over romance, but each woman struggles to understand and embrace their legacy, and each woman is tempted to use the power of the crystal to alter their fate and the fate of those they love. The result is a beautiful legacy of faith and learning passed down from mother to daughter, and Morgan’s movement through successive generations will keep readers turning pages in their quest to know more. A Secret History of Witches  has many recognizable moments of family conflict and strife, but pulsing beneath the novel is an acknowledgment of the connections we all have to those who come before us. Like the characters in Louisa Morgan’s recent release The Ghosts of Beatrice Bird , the Orchiére women are haunted by the past, and this makes them enticing protagonists who reflect the reality of human life. The novel begins in the middle of a tense family drama, but by its moving conclusion, readers will see how individual power can be used to bring about positive social change, and they will rethink the way people of all backgrounds and faiths are connected in a fabric of humanity that contains both darkness and light, both sorrow and hope. I loved this beautiful book about five generations of women struggling to find themselves in a world often positioned against them. Louisa Morgan’s expert storytelling illustrates the way we carry the trauma of the past inside our hearts, and it inspires us to pass on love to those who come after us. If you enjoy historical narratives, family drama, mother-daughter relationships, magical realism, and an exploration of female-centered religious practices, then A Secret History of Witches  is the novel for you! You can find it here. Kelly Jarvis works as the Assistant Editor for The Fairy Tale Magazine where she writes stories, poems, essays, book reviews, and interviews. Her poetry has also been featured or is forthcoming in Blue Heron Review , Mermaids Monthly , Eternal Haunted Summer,   Forget Me Not Press, The Magic of Us, A Moon of One’s Own,   Baseball Bard , and Corvid Queen.  Her short fiction has appeared in The Chamber Magazine  and the World Weaver Press Anthology Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers . You can connect with her on Facebook (Kelly Jarvis, Author) or Instagram (@kellyjarviswriter) or find her at https://kellyjarviswriter.com/

We love all things autumnal at The Fairy Tale Magazine , but nothing signals the fall season more than a return to school. If you enjoy enchanted school stories, dark academia aesthetics, or cozy tales about magical libraries, pour a hot cup of mulled cider and enjoy some recommendations from my book review and “to be read” piles! Happy autumn reading! Described by the author as a book that “reads like drinking hot chocolate,” Sara Beth Durst’s The Spellshop  is the feel good book of the season. It begins in the Great Library of Alyssium, features ancient books filled with forbidden spells, and offers readers a front seat to the development of a sweet and humorous romance. Did I mention there’s a talking plant? You can read my review here . The library in Paula Brackston’s novel The Haunting of Hecate Cavendish  is set at Hereford Cathedral where the new librarian Hecate learns she can communicate with the dead. If you enjoy mysterious stories set in 19th century London that explore myth, legend, and history, pick up a copy of this book now before the second installment in the series is released. You can read my review here . One of the next books on my autumn “to be read” list is The Lost Bookshop  by Evie Woods. It’s about a vanishing bookshop on a quiet street in Dublin that helps people discover the extraordinary nature of their own lives. This looks like a must read for fans of literature and love! Review coming soon! Draw Down the Moon  by P.C. Cast and Kristen Cast is a novel for all those who enjoy schools of magic. Academia de la Luna is a school located on Moon Island, and the students are divided into houses based on the elemental signs of earth, air, water, and fire. You can read my review here . The Society for Soulless Girls  takes place at the Carvell Academy of the Arts, and fans of dark academia should buckle up for an exciting ride when they open this book. The college harbors a sinister past, and two incoming freshmen must use their studies in philosophy and literature to navigate a dangerous landscape while coming to terms with their own emotional growth. You can read my review of Laura Steven’s novel here . Ava Reid’s A Study in Drowning  is another dark academic selection perfect for the month of September. The protagonist of this novel is a voracious reader, and, when she is given the opportunity to design a new manor home in honor of her favorite deceased author, she is drawn into a Gothic mystery. You can read my review here . The Scholar and the Last Faerie Door  by H. G. Parry also holds the promise of a dark academic aesthetic. It features not only a secret magical academy but a secret world of magical English aristocrats. I can’t wait to learn more about the spells, curses, and faeries in this book releasing in October!  This month, I’ll be reading S. T. Gibson’s An Education in Malice , a story about an intense academic rivalry at Saint Perpetua’s College. Fans of Carmilla , the 1872 Gothic novella by Sheridan Le Fanu will want to check this one out! Devotees of Sherlock Holmes will enjoy Rebecca Buchanan's novella The Adventures of the Faerie Coffin: Being the First Morstan and Holmes Occult Detection . Set at the Frazier Academy in Edinburgh, this delightful story offers a supernatural twist on detective fiction. You can read my review here . If you are new to the dark academia genre, then Donna Tartt’s The Secret History  is the place to start! This classic story of murder and mayhem takes place on a New England college campus, and you won’t be able to put it down! And, finally, if you’d like some help sinking into the autumn vibe before you choose the next novel on your “to be read” list, give The Cottagecore Autumn  a try! This how-to book promises to inspire all the whimsy and wonder of the season! Happy reading! Kelly Jarvis works as the Assistant Editor for The Fairy Tale Magazine where she writes stories, poems, essays, book reviews, and interviews. Her poetry has also been featured or is forthcoming in Blue Heron Review , Mermaids Monthly , Eternal Haunted Summer,   Forget Me Not Press, The Magic of Us, A Moon of One’s Own,   Baseball Bard , and Corvid Queen.  Her short fiction has appeared in The Chamber Magazine  and the World Weaver Press Anthology Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers . You can connect with her on Facebook (Kelly Jarvis, Author) or Instagram (@kellyjarviswriter) or find her at https://kellyjarviswriter.com/

Editor’s Note: Today's Throwback Thursday story, from 2018, is Kiyomi Appleton Gaines' take on a nocturnal female spirit in Southeast Asian folklore known as a  Krasue.  She was inspired to write it during a trip to Thailand after her sister-in-law told ghost stories to entertain their group on the winding road after the sun went down.  In this dark modern folktale, it is best to remember to be a respectful and conscientious traveler, as there are those that watch...and wait.... Susannah wasn't herself anymore. She wanted blood, and the blood soup and the raw meat dishes she'd been satisfied with until recently would no longer sustain her. She had come to this place for a change. She needed a break, to get away. She thought she would reconnect with the rituals of her childhood, and make a sort of pilgrimage to the many temples in the area. On her journey through the country to visit temples, old and new, she encountered others who were not on any pilgrimage. They were loud and self-involved, and disrespectful of the places and traditions, and they left things a mess. She took an extra breath and a moment to extend compassion toward them, but still she was angry. A week in, her stomach ached. The pharmacist told her it was traveler's sickness, and gave her some tablets to take. She didn't improve though, and it seemed to spread from her stomach to the rest of her insides. Everything felt tight and confined, and sharp stabbing pains prickled down her sides. Then her neck began to hurt. The pain was sharp and went down either side of her spine, between her shoulder blades into the very root of her neck. She took her tablets and lay in her room, unable to turn her head without pain. Traveler's sickness, the stress of everything was just catching up to her. She would take her tablets and rest. One night, she tossed and twisted her head, restless with the pain and tightness in her neck, seeking some relief, until she felt a pop. She felt light then, and stretched and cool and clean. She felt the chill of the night air on her brow and neck, and over her lungs and stomach and intestines. She opened her eyes and saw her room below her, her own body, headless and lifeless on the bed. She felt a rush of dizziness and plummeted back down. When she woke again her body was reassembled. The pain, still lingering in her neck and back, was not so severe. The next night she felt better, and she knew what would set her right was blood soup. She was right. She knew what was happening now, she had heard the old stories from her grandparents. When the soup and the raw dishes no longer served, she left her body and flew out over farmland to find a stray chicken, then a cat or a dog. They were easier to catch than wild animals, less wary of her still-human smell, unwary of her unnatural state. The wild animals knew the strange light of her eyes, and hid themselves well. She felt better, stronger, and though this was not the transformation she had sought, she began to feel that she, too, had purpose and place in the order of things; that this role could also be of service. She took to wearing scarves to cover the line that separated her neck from body. She took note of those travelers in scant tops and fashionably tattered clothing, the ones who hadn't bathed for days by choice, who showed too much skin in the temples, careless because it wasn't their holy place, and besides, it was hot. She took note of the ones who brought the street dogs into places with them, thinking it was funny that they had adopted pets for the few days or weeks of their holiday. She noted those who didn't make way for the elders, who played loud and crass music at the holy places, who joked and laughed while the monks were chanting prayers. She noted the ones who were drunk at holy festivals and tossed their cigarette butts and crushed beer cans into the ritual fires. She noted them. She followed them. Everyone had a chance to make a better choice. She watched to see whether they would. But those who didn't, she would seek out. "I noticed you," she would say, "at the temple. I'm called krasue." They never asked what that meant, were never curious to know more. Instead they wanted to impress her, and themselves, with where they were going and where they had been, with their own thoughts and opinions, and what it all meant about them that they were here in this place. She would smile, it was all the encouragement they needed. And they would talk and drink and talk, and then stumble to their rooms. And she would lay her body someplace near, someplace safe, and follow behind the travelers to make her feasting and her offering. Hers was not the path of nonviolence, but rather of the tiger and the wolf. "You're a corruption," some might say, "an abomination." But, no, she thought, she had her place, too. She, also, was a part of the natural order of things. Travelers' sickness. It came to everyone in their time. They could make a different choice. Or she would come upon them. She was an inevitability. Kiyomi Appleton Gaines writes stories and articles inspired by folklore and fairy tales.  Find more of her writing at  A Work of Heart and follow her on X  @ThatKiyomi

The Society for Soulless Girls  is a dark academia thriller set on the campus of Carvell Academy of the Arts. The esteemed college and former convent houses a dark and mysterious past and has reopened ten years after four students died from falling out of the North Tower. One of the novel’s narrators, a freshman English major named Lottie, comes from the same hometown as one of the previously murdered students, and she is drawn to the college in the hopes of investigating the unsolved murders. The novel’s other narrator is her roommate Alice, a philosophy major who harbors anger issues and a violent streak. When a new student is killed in the North Tower, Lottie and Alice become involved in a dangerous plot to learn the truth, incriminating themselves in the process. Steven’s book is a delightful read for fans of dark academia and offers plenty of atmosphere to set the stage for the story. The philosophical and literary studies of Lottie and Alice pair nicely with the frightening mystery, and when Alice uses a spell from a library book to perform an ancient soul splitting ritual that will soften her anger, the novel reworks key themes from Robert Louis Stevenson’s Gothic masterpiece the Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde . The Society for Soulless Girls  expertly uses the supernatural to explore the way society teaches young women to suppress their anger, guilt, and shame, ultimately showing how these emotions must be integrated with hope and love to form wholeness. In addition to navigating a haunting atmosphere, Lottie, an outgoing athlete, and Alice, an introverted Goth, must find a way to survive the transition to college, live with one another in a small dorm room,  and face their own social insecurities. The novel also hints at a Sapphic romance. This is the perfect Young Adult/New Adult read for those interested in classic literature, dark academia, and coming of age stories.  I would definitely consider using this text in my Young Adult Literature classroom! You can find the book here . Thank you to NetGalley for a free copy of the book in exchange for a fair review. Kelly Jarvis works as the Assistant Editor for The Fairy Tale Magazine where she writes stories, poems, essays, book reviews, and interviews. Her poetry has also been featured or is forthcoming in Blue Heron Review , Mermaids Monthly , Eternal Haunted Summer, Forget Me Not Press, The Magic of Us, A Moon of One’s Own, Baseball Bard , and Corvid Queen.  Her short fiction has appeared in The Chamber Magazine  and the World Weaver Press Anthology Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers . You can connect with her on Facebook (Kelly Jarvis, Author) or Instagram (@kellyjarviswriter) or find her at https://kellyjarviswriter.com/

We are pleased to announce the winners of our annual writing contest. In poetry, they are: Lauren Reynolds: “Find Your Voice,” first prize Deborah Sage: “Ladies of the Dance,” honorable mention  Marcia. A Sherman: “A Price Far Above Rubies,” honorable mention  In prose, they are: Katie Jordan: “A Wishing Star,” first prize Lynden Wade: “Little Trembling,” honorable mention  Steve Aultman: “When Rumpy Met Sally,” honorable mention Congratulations to them, and thanks to all who submitted! The fees we received will be put to good use. We are very proud to be publishing these works on our site in November.

There once was a child with golden hair, Who grew up strange and wild and free, In the hands of the fairy queen's tender care, Where reeds play tunes and secrets be. She drank dew straight from petal's lips, And spun and danced in the moon's bright beam, flowers adorned her hair and hips, Though she was troubled by a single dream. On midsummer's day of her sixteenth year, As the fires rose high in bundles of twine, While the fay reveled with zest and cheer, She turned and said; "mother of mine. How can it be my ears are round, My feet a pointed shape do lack, Instead of green, my eyes are browned, And wings don't lie upon my back." The fairy queen then stroked her hair, And told her; "child, let it bother you not, After all I've done it would only be fair, For you to abandon this train of thought. I saved you from the clutches of, A plain and dull and mundane life, If still you do not believe me, love, Tomorrow I'll show you the cause of this strife." True to her word the vain queen took her, To the land hidden behind the rift, As midnight struck, humans she showed her, Living their lives mundane and swift. "If not for me you would share their fate," The queen explained to the changeling girl, And she led her back through fairy's gate, To dance and sing and laugh and twirl. The queen thought she could now forget, But the changeling girl would not be sated, She dreamed of humans to be met, Every day for midnight to come she waited. Then she'd creep to where the lands did meet, To search far and wide until she found, A human with pointed ears and feet, The one to which her fate was bound. For near a year at midnight she rose, To watch the changed one in plain clothes clad, Hidden deep in mooncast shadows, She gazed at the life she should have had. After some time she decided she'd rather, Stay where the fay played their merry tune, Still she returned to watch other, Who in a life not hers was strewn. Midsummer came again with all its might, And the girl once more crept through the veil, But the midsummer midnight sun shone bright, With no moon to hide her, her face turned pale. For the changed one stood there and started at her other, "You've been watching me," she said, her green eyes bright, "You suffer," said the one raised by the fairy mother, and told her the tale of their birth night. The fairy told the girl to take her place, To be accepted by the humans as she never was, So she could live with the fairy race, That had given her up without good cause. But the human girl shook her head, A sly fairy glint played in her eyes, As she said; "Why should I go in your stead, When we both can enjoy the faerie's cries?" So changelings returned to the land of fey, To dance around the fairy glen, And there they live to this very day, Never to return to the land of men.  Aliza Faber loves reading, writing and anything to do with fairy tales. She has written several times for FTM. This post originally ran in 2017. Image is “The Birth of a Fairy,” by John Anster Fitzgerald.

Fans of detective stories and faerie fiction can rejoice because Rebecca Buchanan has effectively joined these two classic modes in her historical/gaslamp fantasy novelette, The Adventures of the Faerie Coffin . This entertaining tale opens as Mary Morstan, a young governess and recent fiancé of Sherlock Holmes’ friend and partner Dr. Watson, travels to her former school in Edinburgh to investigate a series of strange occurrences. Although Mary effectively hides the tools of her trade beneath her needlework, she is a talented witch suited to uncovering the mystery behind the faerie who is terrorizing the students and teachers at Frazier Academy. Mary soon finds herself being followed by none other than the famous detective Sherlock Holmes who wants to find out exactly what makes his closest friend’s fiancé so extraordinary. The intellectual chemistry between Morstan and Holmes sparkles on the page, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching their relationship develop over the course of their adventure. Buchanan stays true to Holmes’ traditional quirks while adding complex layers to his personality, and fans of Arthur Conan Doyle’s original series will enjoy this new installment. In addition to entertaining protagonists, Buchanan paints an enticing Gothic setting in her novelette, allowing readers to lurk through Frazier Academy’s hidden passageways as they meet its colorful teaching staff. Books, gargoyles, and faerie lore permeate the text which is riveting enough to consume in one sitting and layered enough to enjoy in small bites. I hope there will be more Morstan and Holmes stories to come! I loved it! You can find the novelette here . You can listen to it at Podcastle . Kelly Jarvis works as the Assistant Editor for The Fairy Tale Magazine where she writes stories, poems, essays, book reviews, and interviews. Her poetry has also been featured or is forthcoming in Blue Heron Review , Mermaids Monthly , Eternal Haunted Summer, Forget Me Not Press, The Magic of Us, A Moon of One’s Own, Baseball Bard , and Corvid Queen.  Her short fiction has appeared in The Chamber Magazine  and the World Weaver Press Anthology Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers . You can find her at https://kellyjarviswriter.com/