My grandma always warned me never to trust the Fae. I thought she was just crazy. I never realized that every fairytale she told me was real, and I was destined to be part of them.
Finn whisks me away to the Otherworld, a place where the most beautiful things are the deadliest, and Finn himself is no exception.
He is my captor and my saviour, tasked with bringing me to the Summer King. I’m one in a long line of human girls stolen from my world for the King’s pleasure.
But Finn isn’t like the other Fae, I’m not like the other human girls, and this fairytale isn’t about princesses and doves…
It’s about blood.
Targeted Age Group:: 16+
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I live in Scotland and folk tales about the Fae are abundant here. I felt like creating a journey where the lines between good and bad Fae were blurred, and the heroine had a power of her own, based on my own ancestors who had ties to the witch trials that happened in Scotland.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
Often, my characters are less thought-out and more just evolve as I write. I wanted a Faery who walked the line between right and wrong, and a heroine tough enough to take him on. Every character I write contains a little piece of me, my attitude or my habits or my freckles. They are made from tiny bits of my soul.
When I was a child, my Grandmother always told me stories about faeries—not the normal kind of bedtime stories you’d expect, with handsome princes, Thumbelina and pixies dancing in the garden. Well, there were handsome princes and dancing pixies, but usually the handsome prince turned out to be a monster, who lured the fair maiden into his den, so he could eat her. The pixies made anyone who dared join their dance keep going until their feet bled.
No, the bedtime stories my Grandmother told me were more like warnings, and there was one particular warning I never forgot.
“Lucy,” she said one night as she sat on the edge of my bed, stroking my hair, “I’m going to tell you what my grandmother told me, and you must promise me you won’t ever forget. There are evil creatures out there, little Lucy. Some of them look just like you and me, but they’re monsters, and you can’t ever trust them.”
So, of course, as a seven-year-old, I had to ask, “But, Grandma, if they look just like us, how can I tell which ones are the monsters?”
My Grandmother smiled and said, “It’s in your blood, Lucy. When you meet one of them, you’ll know it inside. But there are other ways to tell. The Fair Folk can’t stand the touch of iron, or the smell of burning sage. If you can’t get them near either of those, though, the simplest way to tell is by their ears. Because, while they mimic humans almost perfectly, there is one flaw they cannot remove, and that is their pointed ears.”
She pushed back my hair with her fingers, tucking it behind my ear, and I reached up to make sure it wasn’t pointed.
My Grandmother laughed and patted my hand. “Don’t worry, little Lucy,” she said comfortingly. “You are not a monster.”
Then her smile fell and tears filled her eyes. Shocked, because I had never seen my Grandmother cry, I rose from the mattress and wrapped my skinny arms around her neck. Grandma hugged me tight, patting my back gently.
“But, one day, the Fair Folk might come for you, Lucy. And I want you to promise me that, no matter what they say, no matter what they promise, you won’t ever go with them. You promise me that right now.”
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