Birlinn

I looked at Jenny, remembering her in her crib, the way her fingers played in mine, the way her cheek lay hot on my skin. I wished I had the power to give her safe passage through this life, but truth is, it would have taken a real witch to do that

you sneeze, ten people offer you a tissue, one prays for your soul, six laugh as though they’ve never sneezed in their lives, five secretly hope it’s the sign of a serious, perhaps fatal, ailment and thirteen people know it’s a cold and who you caught it from.

grew up wanting to murder everyone with loving-kindness.

Macy meant it when she smiled and she smiled often; you felt safe in her company.

Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.’

MARY SHELLEY

plifying the voices of underrepresented writers. She now lives in County Durham with her daughter, Molly, and a host of four-legged family members

It boiled and it raged until the rocks wept and the dawn cursed

He hadn’t believed them on his first crossing, but now . . . now there could be no other explanation.

‘This is the work of witches.’

It was 1982 (although it could have been ’81). I was five years old,

The right of John Rain to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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