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People who know me know I am a dedicated meditator. I began doing it in 2016, when I had a feeling things were about to go a little crazy in the world, and it helped keep me sane through the deaths of both my parents, the pandemic, the increasingly bizarre political situation in the US and some dreary health problems. Eventually, I took an online course to become a teacher--a rigorous course that took me 16 months to complete. It opened up my life to exploring a variety of meditation practices, and not just the mindfulness I've had the most training in. Nonetheless, mindfulness meditation is what I do most to this day, and I consider it the foundation of all of my other practices, including reiki. How does meditation help my home life? First and foremost, if I'm dreading a task, I find a few moments of taking deep breaths and focusing on them will calm me enough to get most jobs done. Second, I find that after I've meditated, if I need to, say, clean my refrigerator or do laundry, I get it done faster because my mind isn't distracting me with negative chatter about how awful I am at the task. Finally, I find that if I meditate first, I can move on to another task more easily. If you've never tried to meditate or tried and "failed," don't let that deter you. First of all, you can start by just doing one minute a day, and anyone can work that into a daily routine. That's literally how I started. Secondly, every single person's mind wanders when they meditate--usually every time they meditate. There is no "perfect" in meditation. It's not even an expectation or a goal. Meditation is like water smoothing out a rock, as it flows over it, year after year. Over time, even the most jagged stone will become smoother. With meditation, even the spikiest, most scattered mind will be smoother and calmer over time. So give it a try, and see if it improves your life just a bit. You only need to work yourself up from one to 10 minutes a day, and you can take as long as you need to do reach that goal. even if it feels like it's taking as long as Sleeping Beauty's nap! Confused as to how to start? Just go to YouTube and watch this video from the Calm app. You can close your eyes or watch the water. Just breathe deeply and enjoy. You'll be surprised how much it helps. Kate Wolford is the publisher of FTM and The Enchanted Press. The press published its first book, Glass and Feathers, by Lissa Sloan, on March 26. You don't want to miss this engrossing continuation of Cinderella's story. Second image from Pixabay.

Books about the fae have been all the rage recently, and Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries is truly a standout among them. If you’re a fan of the fae, or any type of fairy tales or fantasy, this is absolutely the book for you. I found this book absolutely impossible to put down. The world building of this story is fantastic, with unique and tricksy fae breeds, and plot surprises around every corner. Dr. Emily Wilde travels north in this tale to uncover more about types of fae that no one has seen before, but she meets a problem when her enemy and academic rival (and suspected fae) Dr. Wendell Bambleby puts a hitch in her plans. If only he weren’t so handsome and charismatic, he would be a lot easier for her to ignore. It’s up to Emily to uncover more about the fae so she can continue her work at Cambridge and get the position she wants. All she needs to do is steer clear of Wendell Bambleby, but that is proving more difficult than she expected. I will always be a fan of swoon-worthy romance and nerdy male leads, and this book has both in spades. It’s the perfect blend of interesting fae facts, shocking reveals, and charged moments. I would absolutely recommend that this book be an addition to your spring reading list! You can find the book here. Madeline Mertz is FTM's editorial intern and is a Truman State University student with literary journal experience.

Book-loving introverts: Are you ready to escape the world and snuggle in with a sweet treat, a hot cuppa and an absorbing book? We at The Fairy Tale Magazine have discovered the subscription service for you. Introverts Retreat is a monthly book box offering “Everything you need to avoid people.” Here’s what’s included: "A BRAND NEW NOVEL OF YOUR CHOICE. You'll get to choose your own paperback novel (including brand new releases) from our bookstore. Or we'll send a surprise novel in your choice of genre. Plus we'll send a cute metal bookmark. CANDLE, BATH SALT SOAK AND SCENTED SOAP. Each set has an introverted theme and the candle will be custom poured according to your fragrance profile. Think 'Love Me Enough To Leave Me Alone' or 'I Came. I Saw. I Left Early.' Not a bath person? Choose a shower steamer instead of bath salt soak. DELICIOUS SWEET TREAT. Expect chocolate, delicious baked goods, caramel corn, and more, plus a serving of your choice of hot cocoa, loose leaf tea, or ground coffee." If that’s not awesome enough, we are delighted to announce that Introverts Retreat has included Glass and Feathers as one of its April picks! So if you need a gift for a book-lover who craves some alone time, or if you were waiting for the right time to pick up my Cinderella continuation novel, here’s a perfect opportunity! Editor's note: Images are by Introverts Retreat. Contents displayed in box are examples only. Lissa Sloan is the author of Glass and Feathers, a dark continuation of the traditional "Cinderella" tale. Her fairy tale poems and short stories have appeared in The Fairy Tale Magazine, Niteblade Magazine, Corvid Queen, and anthologies from World Weaver Press. Visit Lissa online at lissasloan.com, or connect on Facebook, Instagram, @lissa_sloan, or Twitter, @LissaSloan.

About 10 years ago, I found an outstanding vegetable soup recipe on a blog called Cooking Classy. It delivers a savory, healthy taste. And, at less than 200 calories per serving, it’s perfect for people watching their weight, but it is very much not diet food in terms of taste. It’s a soup that is special enough to serve guests, accompanied by a salad and bread. In fact, I originally called it “Holiday Vegetable Soup,” because it’s good enough to serve to company, on, say, Christmas Eve. How fancy you make it is up to the occasion you are making it for--will vegetarians and vegans be there? You’re covered. The version I’m posting today is vegan, but not intentionally so. We are semi-vegetarian or “flexitarian,” but we love dairy. We just didn’t need it for this soup. We often  use vegetable broth, rather than chicken broth, but both are great. You can sauté the vegetables in butter or olive oil or both. It’s good to sauté some of the veggies first, as directed below, but we’ve forgotten to do that, and just tossed most of the ingredients in, and it still tasted great. And you definitely could add diced cooked chicken into the mix if you’ve got some hungry carnivores at your house. Sometimes we use vegetables from our farmers market, which add a special dimension of freshness, but we usually use supermarket produce, and it still tastes great. Feel free to adjust amounts for the ingredients or experiment with other ingredients. It’s a very friendly recipe. (Note: I've made a few changes to this recipe, but it's pretty close to the Cooking Classy original.) Kate’s Favorite Vegetable Soup 2 cups of thin-sliced carrots 2 cups of diced sweet onion 3-4 stalks of chopped celery  (must include leaves) 2 boxes low-salt chicken broth or vegetable broth (about 64 ounces) 2 regular size cans diced tomatoes (juice and all) A few minced garlic cloves (or lots of garlic powder) 2 tablespoons olive oil 4 chicken or vegetable bouillon cubes 3 bay leaves Poultry seasoning to taste (optitional) About a quarter cup chopped parsley (optional) 3-4 medium potatoes, diced into roughly equal size 1 to 2 cups of each of the following frozen vegetables: Corn, peas and green beans Salt and pepper to taste Begin by sautéing the onion, carrots and celery in heated olive oil, for a few minutes, until the onion begins to get translucent. Add the garlic and sauté for 30 seconds. Next, add all of the broth, the potatoes, tomatoes, poultry seasoning, bay leaves, parsley (if desired), salt and pepper. Bring to a boil and add the green beans. Lower to a simmer, and cook for about 30 minutes. Add the corn and peas and cook for five to 10 minutes, until the corn and peas taste done to you. This tastes great the next day. May this soup enchant and sustain you! Kate Wolford is the publisher of The Fairy Tale Magazine, and runs The Enchanted Press. The press recently published the Cinderella continuation novel, Glass and Feathers, by Lissa Sloan. Get your copy here.

Listen, child, and I’ll give you the tale you want. Yes, there will be a fairy godmother. But a love story? My dear, I can’t promise you that. Once upon a time—that era deep in the caverns of your imagination—if you were to travel past vales and vineyards, through plains and pastures, you would find a kingdom nestled between the roaring currents of rivers and the sighing mists of mountains. In this land, the king and queen were beloved by all, for they ruled their people with just and generous hands. But you’ve heard these stories before, and you know there must be a catch. No, the queen doesn’t die, but that’s a good guess. She had no child. Although she was still the most beautiful woman in the land, the queen had long since passed the days of her youth. She would smile and laugh among her people, but at night she wept at her barrenness. One day, her handmaiden saw the vestige of tears on her queen’s cheeks. “My queen, why do you cry?” she said. “You have been blessed with the fortune of a thousand moons and the joy of a thousand suns.” “O, I would give all of that for a child. My womb is empty, and the kingdom shall have no heir,” the queen said. The handmaiden’s voice sank to a whisper. “I have heard, Majesty, that there is a woman in the north who can help you. She speaks to spirits, she writes on leaves, she divines desires in dark caves. She has been said to grant wishes such as yours.” So the queen and the handmaiden departed on a horse-drawn carriage, and after days of traveling, they arrived at the edge of a vast cornfield. As they approached, a path appeared that led to a windowless cottage. The queen left the carriage and walked to the door while the handmaiden stayed behind out of fear. Before the queen’s hand reached the twisted iron knocker, the door swung open, creaking and quaking on its hinges. She crept into the cottage. Through the labyrinth of cobwebs stood a crone hunched over a vat, her back to the queen. “I have waited long for you,” the crone said as smoke enveloped her gray hair. “I have come to—” “I know what you seek,” the crone said, turning around to reveal a face full of entrenched wrinkles. The crone, holding a goblet in her hands, slid towards the queen. “Your wish is not uncommon. I have granted it a thousand times, and I will grant it a thousand more.” She placed the goblet before the queen. “Drink, and you shall bear a child. You shall name him Lathe. He will bring you such joy as you have never known.” Hearing this, the queen took the goblet in her hands. As she brought it to her lips, the crone whispered in her ear: “But there is a price. I will give you a child, and I will take him away. I will reclaim what is mine. Your sorrows will be multiplied; your tears will tumble numberless to the earth.” For a moment, both were silent, and then the queen took her fill from the cup. *** No, we aren’t at the part with the fairy godmother yet. Be patient. We haven’t even gotten to the infant yet, mind you. Nine months later, the queen gave birth to a son. The king looked with pride at his heir. He called him Lathe. The infant’s quiet smiles delighted the queen. Despite her newfound happiness, however, she was haunted by the crone’s words. Terrified, she confessed the curse to her husband. “Foolish woman!” he said. “Our son shall be a slave to a creature of the otherworld.” “I ask not for your forgiveness,” said the queen, “for I know that I do not deserve it. But please, protect our son. I cannot bear to lose him.” The king had a sorcerer place a spell on the palace that prevented all intruders from entering its walls. It was agreed that Lathe should never leave the palace, for if he did not know the temptations of the outside world, he would never desire to leave its sanctuary. Lathe spent his days in the southern turret, where his mother would visit and read him stories of heroes and faraway lands. He adored his mother’s company, but he was often lonely. The queen, seeing this, would bring him small figurines shaped like various beasts. In time, Lathe began to fashion creatures out of wood and paint landscapes on his walls. His room became a menagerie of eagles flying over canyons and stallions racing through fields. On his eighteenth birthday, his parents prepared a great feast for him. As he dressed for the celebration, he glanced out the narrow window of the turret, and beyond its walls stood a woman more beautiful than he had ever dreamed. Her alabaster limbs were long and supple, and her golden hair cascaded down the contours of her torso. (Why are the women always blonde, you ask? Why are they comely and lithe and lily-white? That is another beast. I will tell you when you are older.) “Prince,” the woman said, her dulcet voice echoing up the long rows of stones that guarded the tower, “abandon your prison, and I shall show you the pleasures of the world. Feel the sun on your skin, taste the honey of the land. Come, meet me!” “But how?” he called. “Remove your majestic garments and wear your tunic so that you will pass unnoticed,” the woman said. “Make your way down the turret and into the banquet hall. The servants and guards are busying themselves with preparations. At the back of the kitchen is a small door, hidden behind shelves of bread, and through that door you shall find me. Make haste, for time is running out.” The prince cast off his purple robes, flew down the winding flight of stairs, and burst into the kitchen. He pushed his way through the bustling servants and flung open the door. As the light of the sun pierced through the doorway, he shielded his eyes. The woman smiled. “You’ve returned to me.” She began to laugh when he stepped outside. As he drew closer, her laughs became cackles, and her golden locks fell off her head, revealing a mess of grey hair. The world around them dissolved, and he found himself inside the walls of a windowless cottage. *** Here is where the story really gets going. Hold your questions for now. You’ll thank me later. A faint glow filled the stone crevices of Lathe’s cell. Apart from the cot upon which he lay, its only furnishing was a small table with a lantern. The lantern cast upon the wall silhouettes of the outside world: flickers of birds darting through a birch tree, corn swaying in the wind, rabbits weaving through the stalks. He stood to inspect these figures, but iron shackles restrained him. The door of the cell flung open, and his chains dragged him forward. They led him through the cottage and its oddities: birds in an iron cage, butterflies pinned and mounted, a compendium of potions, bones that were bent and bowed, and a wall of clocks ticking and tocking in unison. As he arrived outside, his chains rooted themselves in the soil. In front of him stood the crone, who stared out into the cornfield. She turned towards him, handed him a satchel containing a sickle, and said: Swing the sickle that you wield And clear the stalks from my cornfield. When no more husks are in the lea, Then you shall once again be free. With these words she vanished. Lathe picked up the sickle and began to slash with all his might. His chains extended as he wove through the field, but they pulled him back again when he reached the edge. As the sun set, the chains dragged him to the cell, where he fell into a deep slumber. Lathe was hopeful when he awoke to the flickering of the magic lantern. But when he emerged, his heart sunk. The corn he had cut down the day before had already grown back. “I must cut down the entire field today or else my work will be in vain,” he thought. As twilight filled the horizon, though, the field still bristled with swaying stalks. He repeated this task day after day, each time clearing more of the field, but never enough to earn his freedom. Home seemed no more real to him now than the silhouettes of the magic lantern. One day, having abandoned hope of ever completing his task, Lathe ran to the edge of the field. He pulled against his shackles until they cut into his wrists, but they did not budge. He sat down, leaned against a birch tree, and began to sob. Lathe, a voice said, do not be sad, for hope is not lost. Lathe looked up at the birch’s honey-colored leaves and realized that the voice came from the tree. “But no matter how much corn I cut down, it always grows back,” Lathe said. “I shall never see my family again.” The birch bent its branches down. “I can help you. My name is Ivory. I am your fairy godmother, but the crone turned me into a tree before you were born. I have yet a little fairy magic in me. Though it is not enough to free myself, with your help we can escape.” Ivory’s leaves swayed in the wind. “You must be brave,” she said, “and careful not to let the crone catch you. Inside the cottage, there is a clock made of bronze. Bring me this clock.” The next day, Lathe spotted the bronze clock as the chains dragged him past the wall. He took the clock, slipped it into his satchel, and brought it to Ivory. She took the clock into her branches and said, “Among the crone’s potions, there is a bottle made of silver. Bring me this bottle.” The next day, Lathe spotted the silver bottle as the chains dragged him past the crone’s potions. He took the bottle, slipped it into his satchel, and brought it to Ivory. She took the bottle up into her branches and said, “Next to the birdcage, there is a spool of rope made of gold. Bring me this rope.” The next day, Lathe spotted the golden rope as the chains dragged him past the birdcage. He took the rope, slipped it into his satchel, and brought it to Ivory. She took the rope up into her branches and said, “You must weave this rope in a spiral through the field.” Lathe unspooled the golden rope as he circled through the field and back. Ivory bent down her branches and handed him the clock. “Inside this clock there are many gears,” she said. “Take these gears and slip them onto the end of the rope.” Lathe’s nimble hands took apart the clock. As he arranged the bronze gears in a row on the rope, each gear grew larger, turned on its side, and wound upon the one in front of it. The gears hurtled across the rope and throughout the field, cutting down the corn. When the last stalk fell, Ivory tipped over the silver bottle. Water flowed and flowed from it, filling the field. The flood swept the cottage away, and the crone’s cackles faded into the distance. With the curse broken, Lathe’s shackles shattered and Ivory became a fairy once again. *** What happens next, you ask? You want a love story. We can try that out. Let’s switch to the present tense. Lathe and Ivory live happily ever after. They return to Lathe’s kingdom, where the king and queen rejoice. The sun bleaches the crone’s bones in the barren field. With her fairy magic restored, Ivory shows Lathe the world, its hues and whispers and sighs. She dances barefoot in brooks, her honey-colored hair streaming through the air. Lathe has never seen anything so beautiful. In time, they are wed. Lathe ascends to the throne, where he rules with wisdom and quiet dignity. His fairy-turned-wife is never far from his side, and her laughter enchants the people of the land. She bears him three children, who are filled with fay curiosity. Through the years, Lathe and Ivory regale others with tales of their heroic escape. They sit by the fire, Ivory’s now-gray head upon Lathe’s shoulder, and fall asleep. Sweet, yes, but it doesn’t work. Fairy godmothers aren’t meant to be lovers. You see that now. Let’s try a tragic ending instead. After all, tropes are meant to be broken, aren’t they? Lathe and Ivory have been through the gates of Hell, and they have returned. But the ghosts of the field haunt Ivory’s dreams. She fears the crone is still alive, her magic stronger than ever. As she settles into sleep, she feels the bark ascending her arms and wakes in paralyzed terror. The light of her magic begins to dim. Lathe, who has spent his life with books for company, does not know what to do with this strange creature, this feverish fairy. One day, he locks the door to his turret. Ivory pounds and pounds until crimson trickles down her pale limbs, but the door does not open. She returns to her fairy sisters, and Lathe returns to solitude. They do not speak of their time together again. That doesn’t satisfy you either. You say you want the truth. Child, the truth doesn’t make for a good story. It is too wayward, too jagged. When we try to box it up, it escapes at the seams. But if you must know the truth, then here it is: Lathe and Ivory go on. They dream, they wake, they breathe—sometimes together, but more often apart. The crone and the boundless fields fade to gray silhouettes flickering on the balusters of memory. They laugh, they cry, they hope. The world unfolds upon the horizon. They live. Bio: Kristen VanBlargan lives in New Haven, Connecticut. Her fiction has appeared in  Timeless Tales and in Tailfins & Sealskins: An Anthology of Water Lore (Three Drops Press) and numerous other publications. Find her website here. Image from Pixabay

A Sweet Sting of Salt is a beautiful, sapphic retelling of selkie legends set along the coast of Nova Scotia in the mid-1830s. Jean, a midwife who lives in an isolated cottage, hears cries outside of her window one stormy night, discovers a strange woman named Muirin, and helps her to deliver a baby boy born with webbed fingers and toes. Muirin is the wife of a fisherman named Tobias, and as the two women form a friendship, Jean discovers that Tobias has stolen Muirin from her family and forced her into wedlock. As Jean and Muirin grow closer, the midwife vows to save her friend and her child from their dire situation, discovering unbelievable secrets about the world around her. The dedication to this novel reads: “To anyone who has ever been lonely. Keep searching; your people are out there,” and the plot of the book supports this touching idea. Jean and her childhood friend Laurence are engaging characters who both feel like outsiders in the rocky landscape they call home. Muirin, who barely speaks English, is also an outsider looking for a way to return to her own home. The book turns on the power of choice in love and underscores the importance of freedom in defining the most essential facets of individuality. Tension rises as storms rip through Nova Scotia and the women make brave choices about their futures. In addition to an engaging plot, the novel is filled with folklore, opening with a memory about The Young Teazer, a ship which burst into flames in the harbor in June of 1813 and continues to haunt the residents of the coastal villages. Selkie myths and legends are used to explore real world issues like post-partum depression, suicide, and autonomy. Fairy lore about protecting infants from becoming changelings casts a light on the darkest fears of new mothers. The novel ends with a heartfelt conclusion that will have readers believing in the beauty of true love and the power of community. If you enjoy novels that sweep you away and leave you searching the horizon for magic, then add Rose Sutherland’s debut, A Sweet Sting of Salt, to the top of your list. I loved it! 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 find her at https://kellyjarviswriter.com/

Now that Easter dinner is done and digested (thanks, Mississippi Pot Roast!) I’m turning my mind back to regular meals, and one of my favorite food influencers is Julia Pacheco. This young wife and mother of two burst onto YouTube during the early days of the pandemic, and now has over one million followers across several platforms. I’ve watched her grow ever more confident and resourceful in her videos, and it’s fun to see a young person succeeding in such a tough market. More importantly, her recipes are easy and flavorful, and while Julia does use shortcuts and some convenience foods, she almost always shows a balanced plate of food by the end. So, say she’s made a recipe using cream of chicken soup, she might team it with steamed broccoli and a healthy salad. And her recipes are often budget friendly! If you’re a fan of Southwestern foods, you’re in luck with Julia Pacheco. I’m pretty sure she was raised in the Southwest, so she loves to add some heat and depth in her simple and delicious food—although I’m also pretty sure her food is fairly tame compared to genuine Mexican food. Anyway, she is no stranger to cumin and chilis, and my husband loves a lot of the recipes from her. He's a Mexican food fanatic. I enjoy using a crockpot, and her Slow Cooker Pork Tenderloin is delicious and easy—and nice enough for company. She starts with a pre-seasoned tenderloin, then adds potatoes, carrots and a variety of seasonings. Easy peasy. Julia also does plenty of desserts, budget grocery challenges and holiday meals. You honestly could cook from her recipes for a year and not get bored—although like many cooks these days, she sure likes ranch seasoning. (The whole internet seems obsessed with it though. I like it fine, but frequently substitute other seasonings for it.) Anyway, she’s plenty strong on variety. Want to learn more? Here’s the link to her website, where you can find most of her recipes as well as her cookbook. Here’s her YouTube channel. If you’re looking for fast and flavorful food that will get people fed on a busy day, you’ll like this influencer. I think Cinderella would approve! As for Cinderella, have you bought your copy of Glass and Feathers, by Lissa Sloan? It's published by The Enchanted Press and every copy sold helps our site.

Wind Spell —after Joy Harjo In the time before, it was never written down No pens. A long line of mouths. A wolfman hovers beyond the tree line, taste of flesh on his tongue. A basket over a girl’s arm, crumbs fallen. The predator prowls the woods, the path, the outlying cottages. He eats every unfortunate passerby. What he cannot eat, he saves for later. He makes wine. Jars flesh. Waits. Rumors run like pigs. Like school children. Like a mother’s butterfly stomach, weighted for the wind’s howl. Like shortcuts loafing toward full moon twilights. Like a basket inside a cottage door. A dandelion seed purchased where there is no wind spell for wishes to float free. Wait! Not this once. Instead, try Once there was a woods that was only a woods. The village folk used to go birding, speak to owls, hear the throaty croak of ravens, listen for the songs of a nightingale. They had lived together, cooked together, whispering rumors of red sky mornings. They had tried to pretend a wolfman hadn’t moved in, grandmother’s cottage was under construction and the disappeared had left only damp shadows soaked into paths. But once again Once upon another time Memory failed and the forest shadows grew larger and toothier with eyes sharp enough to see in the dark— the fallen fabric of a daughter’s red hood, the ribbon, the sash, a walking shoe wilting beside the path of pins the basket lined with cloth for protecting cakes Start with a different once! Once, after a lifetime lived inside the village walls grandmother had moved, longing for the seclusion of the forest. Trusting her granddaughter would come, she had left the cottage door unlatched, curled up in her nightgown, recalling memories of trips made when she had been a girl. Choosing her path. Before If the girl in the red hood starts here she’ll never make it to the end of her story. Someone has to keep her eyes open, sings her grandmother to the day, to the night, to the wind spell that can carry dandelion wishes to far-off places where it can seed into the heart’s loam and take root even as the girl walks the path of pins or that of needles. It would not matter. For even if grandmother was eaten, the girl would have the sense to escape. And she would find helpers along her journey home. Yes. Once upon this story. Bio: Kristen Baum DeBeasi’s poetry has appeared in Blue Heron Review, Contrary Magazine, Menacing Hedge and elsewhere. She was Moon Tide Press’s Poet of the Month for July 2021. When she isn’t writing words or music, she loves testing new recipes and collecting fallen leaves or twigs for her fairy garden.

Draw Down the Moon is the first book in a new duology about Academia de la Luna, a magickal school located on a secret Moon Isle. The novel unfolds with the alternating perspectives of teenagers Wren Nightingale and Lee Young. Although they are both born to magickal families, Wren grew up believing she was a Mundane, a person without magick, while Lee grew up as one of the Moonstruck, a person born under a full moon in possession of magickal powers. When Wren suddenly feels magick course through her veins on her 18th birthday, the two friends’ lives are reunited as they travel to Academia de la Luna together to begin their magickal education. Academia de la Luna is a feast for the senses. The Magick School is a Gothic, dangerous, enticing place where Lee must prove his name and uphold his family’s powerful reputation. Students at the school are divided into halls and dormitories based on their elemental signs of Air, Water, Fire, and Earth. Known as Aquarius, Leo, Scorpio, and Taurus Moons, the students receive instructions for honing their powers and face trials for proving their worth. There is engaging description of the students, classrooms, dining halls, and professors, and the book provides a subtle romantic plot to keep readers interested. There are magickal twists and turns for fans of young adult dark academia. I thoroughly enjoyed the dual protagonist point of view in Draw Down the Moon. The fast paced plot sets a sequel into motion, and the duology will be perfect for readers thirsty for stories of moon magic and enchanted education. 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 find her at https://kellyjarviswriter.com/

Well, I can't believe it, and I'm sure Lissa can't either, but it's here! Glass and Feathers, Lissa Sloan's brilliant continuation of Cinderella's story, and a book unlike anything you've read, is finally here! Now please buy it!!! Read it!!! You'll love it!!! I'm giddy so I'll stop. Here's the link again. Kate

Next week, CH will be back to normal, but for one last time, I'm plugging Glass and Feathers by Lissa Sloan in the Monday spot. This book is 20 years in the making for Lissa and nearly two for Lissa and me together. It represents countless hours of work, worry and creativity. I dearly hope all of you will buy a copy. And I hope that those of you who received ARCs will review it at Goodreads and in Amazon (starting tomorrow). Glass and Feathers is an absorbing, enchanting read. Here's the description: "They can bring you a night out, a gown, even a pair of slippers. Or something you never should have wished for in the first place. After the royal wedding, the girl in the glass slippers has everything she ever wanted: an escape from a life of drudgery, an innate magical gift, and a devoted husband who looks at her like she is the only one in the room. But all wishes come with a price. To the people of the palace, she is an outsider, nothing more. Even her famous shoes cannot help her--the glass slippers no longer fit. Glass and Feathers is a continuation of the traditional Cinderella tale. It transforms 'Happy Ever After' and soars beyond it." The best reason to read this book is because it's a fantastic book. But if you care about FTM, then you'll buy a copy and/or review the book, because book purchases directly affect the bottom line of The Fairy Tale Magazine. When you buy a copy of G&F, you're literally positively affecting our ability to keep going. So buy and/review the book! Please! Next week, back to housekeeping!

Mushrooms emerging From saturated ground Mist bearing shoots Scatter faintly Among tree roots Chirping echoes above As other nests Are feathered Crocus peaks out Through remaining Scattered icy traces Chrysalis spinning On softly greening limbs Cloudy dreams forming May soon come true Chartreuse froglets Multiply high and low Curious young things Explore bright colors Lured by scents Returning from deep Within the Earth But straying far Extracts a high price Beware destroying angels Bewitching mimics Fool the untrained eye Sampling newly emerged Saprophytes which Seem like treats Yield a death cap Toxic though tempting Such smell and taste Transports its victim To another realm Never to return Maria DePaul is a Washington, DC-based writer whose poetry, prose and reviews have been pushed extensively in print and online--including in Haikuniverse, Haiku Journal, Poetry Quarterly and Three Line Poetry. Image from Pixabay