I am not sure where I am in the beginning. There is a doorway in a surrounding wall. Looking around I see a back garden, realising with a start where I am. I hear a sound like a whisper in my ear, a voice emerges, words take shape. ‘You were born here, do you remember?’… Read more Dead and Buried

She was asleep. I stole a kiss. The rest is history. * I don’t mean to complain. I mean, she’s beautiful, and really, the sweetest girl. But that sleeping thing? It hasn’t gone away. Impossible to get her out of bed in the morning. It’s driving me nuts. And before you ask—yes—I’ve tried waking her… Read more Diary of the Prince Who Married Sleeping Beauty

Martin’s new home, a quaint country cottage, stood on its own, nestling in-between crop fields off a quiet rural road. It was his little slice of countryside heaven. When he received the keys from his estate agent, he was also given a curious piece of advice passed on from the previous owners. “Martin, apparently you’re… Read more A Crow Tale

Years from now, when you’re sitting by the fire after a long day’s work or lie tucked under a blanket as the nightlight casts shadows on the wall, you’ll hear a version of this story. Once upon a time, a poor maiden, who was always the last to use the sauna belonging to the family… Read more Waiting for the Devil

Hester swept the stars from the sky. She placed her tallest ladder in the middle of the garden and stood tip-toe on the highest step, balancing precariously as she reached high over her head with a rough willow broom. Whish. Whish. Whish. The stars fell like granulated sugar among the carrots and potatoes, twinkling with… Read more The Red Willow Broom

Chrysopeleia was a fragile creature, delicate and shy, her leafy, diaphanous clothing of ochre, russet, gold, and fiery red, draped over her slender frame, leaving her arms and legs bare. Graceful and wild, beautiful and eternally young, she was inextricably linked with her oak tree. She sat by the water’s edge, under its leafy branches,… Read more Chrysopelaiea

My troubles started when those horrible children came to my cottage in the deep woods. I built it there to avoid people and all their many problems. I just wanted a few years of rest. Is that too much to ask? Apparently. I was having my second cup of afternoon tea one day when a… Read more Perfectly Dreadful Children

Most of you will know why I wasn’t expecting to be there, nor was expected to be there. All that was a long time ago. I’m sure you understand. When the car stopped, that night, I thought I could leave it, walk to the village and get it picked up in the morning.  The snow… Read more Stopping by Woods

She could smell him, lupine musk marking every branch, every leaf, every inch of the ground.  It turned her stomach, made her want to destroy him even more if only to bring back the petrichor of yesteryear, before his hunt destroyed the peace. The overladen basket pulled down on her arm as if to ground… Read more Red Did It