So that’s it. Secret Angels is off Substack. But to make it up to you, here’s the prologue of a project I’m working on…
They used to call this place the Dark Realm. Mother says it was just to match the Dawn and Day Realms, but she thought Night had a better ring to it.
Either way, it was aptly named.
We didn’t have sunlight here. Daylight, yes, but not sunlight. Fireflies danced at any hour of the day or night; they were like tiny yellow jewels over the grass.
The woodlands around the palace echoed with nightjar song. I stepped over a tiny stream, my black gown rustling on the grass, and wondered if home would ever stop being a prison.
We did what we had to do to protect our home and our people, but now we were trapped, cut off from the other faery realms. We couldn’t contact them, and we didn’t know if anyone had tried to reach us.
They might have stopped trying. It had been over fifty years, after all.
Maybe they thought we were dead.
I stopped, held out a hand and waited patiently. A lone nightjar flew out of the bushes and landed on my finger; tilting her head to one side, she began to utter a guttural call. I looked up at the shafts of pale light that fell from the sky and silently vowed that if there was a way to free the Night Realm from the spell, I would take it.
I owed my people that much.
To be continued…
If you’re interested in joining the ARC team for Secret Angels, get in touch via my website!