Spotlight: Fractured Sleep Anthology

Fractured Sleep
(Fairy Tale Ink, #4)
Publication date: June 28th 2019
Genres: Adult, Fairy Tales, Fantasy

Fairy Tale Ink is proud to present these four retold stories of the classic, Sleeping Beauty. A story for every reader from best-selling and award-winning authors!

Aurora’s Fight, by Angela Brimhall Five years ago, Aurora was forced to live at Thornhurst Manor, the city insane asylum. Every night she dreads sunset when sleep becomes a wicked game of survival. When Aurora is kidnapped and imprisoned in The Briar, a vision reveals the desperate man in the next cell is her only hope in stopping the plague of her nightmares. Will she find a way to rescue this mysterious man before The Dragon’s death countdown reaches zero?

The Lonely Princess, by Jo Schneider: Everything changed in the 500 years Aurora slept. Now teenagers go to the Academy, where humans and fey live side-by-side and everyone pretends to get along. In her attempts to find her place in this new world, she meets Saru—a mysterious boy who delights in irritating her. Their attraction is instant, but his forgotten past might be their undoing.

Dragon’s Curse, by Adrienne Monson: When her nana is in a near-fatal car accident, Dawn is forced to reconcile her beliefs about magic. Her long-buried powers could save Nana’s life, but at a high price. Accepting magic means that the man Dawn dreamt about her whole life is real and that she’s the only one who can save him from a cursed sleep. To do that, she’ll have to face the terrifying dragon who put him there.

Restless, by Quinn Coleridge: Rory Kingston doesn’t want much. Just a good night’s sleep and a normal life free of magic. Yet Rory’s own royal pedigree keeps getting in the way of achieving these goals, not to mention her preoccupation with a new neighbor. Where the darkly handsome history professor goes, danger and mayhem follow. Has Phillip come to drag Rory back to the magical kingdom she left behind years ago or are his motives even more nefarious?

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SNEAK PEEKS:

At the Edge of Dreams
by Angela Brimhall

(Steampunk)

Aurora pressed her back against the clock tower wall, clutching the stolen scroll to her chest. The whine of clicking machinery from the surrounding buildings tapped like a metronome in her head, beating out the rhythmic heartbeat of The Briar. She squeezed her eyes shut listening for the signal she’d been detected. But nothing came. Aurora’s chest fluttered when she peeked around the corner to Main Street.

Steam hissed from arterial pipes and veiny downspouts protruding from faceless citadels. Aurora searched through shadows for yellow-orange eyes. Mist clouded the alleyways wedged between the buildings, cloaking any Huntsman hiding from view, but she couldn’t see any patrolling the street.

Aurora didn’t hesitate. She bounded away from behind the wall and ran, not looking back. Alarms blared as she passed the city limits and met the lip of Spindlewood Forest.

They know.

Her thighs burned. Puffs of strained breath came in uncontrolled spurts, but the dissonant sound drove Aurora harder. She crashed through the threshold of trees and fought her way up the steep hill into the woodland’s heart.

Aurora pulled herself over the summit and crawled to the nearest bush, wheezing through pursed lips, clutching the stitch in her side. A twig snapped. The sound rode on a whisper of dank smoky air from the grove of trees two feet away.

Something was close.

The hair on Aurora’s neck rose, and she narrowed her eyes, peeking around the shrub. She gripped her piecemeal knife in one shaking hand, the scroll in the other, waiting for the metal minion to show himself.

Where are you?

Several cracks echoed in different directions around her. Blood rushed from Aurora’s face into her stomach. She whipped around, her head darting every which way, ears perked. Aurora crouched, knife out, ready to jab anything that came close.

I’m surrounded.

A skeletal metal face peered at Aurora from behind a large tree trunk five feet in front of her. It’s lifeless eyes twisted and whirred, yellow pupils fixating on her location. Aurora froze. The Huntsman stepped out from behind the tree and brandished a long bronze pistol.

Dragon’s Curse
by Adrienne Monson

(Paranormal Romance)

I was going to explode. A restless energy had been building inside me for months now. There were times when it felt like my skin was the only thing keeping me from flying apart. There was no good reason for it. Frustration continued to grow and everything I’d done to ignore it and tamp it down seemed to only feed the impotent ire simmering beneath the surface.

When my coworker, Ben, had asked me out for the third time tonight, I’d lost it. I mean, yelled and came pretty close to slapping him. While he may have been annoying, he hadn’t deserved my freak out.

My phone played Sound of Silence to let me know it was ringing. All I wanted was to take a shower and wash the smell of coffee and baked goods off, but when I saw it was Nana, I answered. “Hey.” I put the speaker on so I could grab some water while I spoke. I tossed my keys on the counter and placed my phone next to them.

“What’s wrong?” Her confident voice flitted through my tiny apartment as if she were in the room.

My shoulders tensed and my defenses kicked in. “Why does something have to be wrong?”

“It’s in your tone. I can tell. What are you so mad about?”

That was the question I’d been asking myself for weeks. I glared at the phone as I drank. The cold water felt nice on my throat, but it was not enough to calm me.

“Dawn?” Nana called, her voice louder. “Don’t you give me that look.”

Rolling my eyes, I huffed. “You can’t see my face. You have no idea what look I may or may not be giving you.”

“I know you. You’re glaring a hot laser at the phone right now.”

It was all too easy to imagine her grey eyes meeting mine in challenge, never backing down. I’d bet anything she was folding her arms across her chest and that her lips were pulled into a stubborn line. “It’s a boy, isn’t it?” she asked.

Grinding my teeth, I picked the phone up from the counter and headed to the bathroom. “I don’t date, Nana. Why would you think it’s a boy?”

“What happened?” Her tone had softened and the concern I heard broke through the barrier I’d had up all evening.

My shoulders slumped and I put the phone down again to pull my long, blonde hair out of its ponytail. Nana didn’t say anything. She always knew when to wait. “Ben asked me out again,” I finally admitted.

“Why do you say that like it’s a horrible thing?”

I was positive that her brows were drawn together and that her thin lips were pulled down into a frown that showcased little wrinkles. It’s how she always looked when we approached this topic.

An image of a man with brown hair and brown skin entered my mind. He wasn’t real – just a man from my dreams that no one knew about. I couldn’t tell Nana he was the reason.



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Spotlight: Beneath The Surface by B. K. Stubblefield


Beneath the Surface
Secrets In Oak Creek Book 2
by B.K. Stubblefield
Genre: Mystery, Romance

He clutched his head in his hands. His shoulders shook, but no sound came. Minutes stretched, interrupted only by the pop of burning wood.”

Ryan Collins had it all – financial freedom, an exciting career, and attractive women. A favorite photographer in the glamorous world of fashion, his lifestyle is the envy of many. Only a few know of the demons that haunt him.
When Ryan and Emily Carmichael discover Oak Creek’s dirty secret, they become witnesses to a drug crime. With Ryan’s plans for a career change temporarily on hold, the physical and emotional attraction to Emily grows strong. But a twisted truth taught so many years ago spirals to the surface and strangles his heart. A romantic relationship just isn’t meant to be.
While assisting a friend with a documentary in the African wild, Ryan is forced to confront his terrors. As the battle within rages will he be able to permanently silence the voices this time? Will he find a way back to Emily, and the happiness he so desperately craves? Or is it too late?


**Only .99 cents!!**




Secrets in Oak Creek
Secrets In Oak Creek Book 1

A small town with a dark secret. A new arrival in grave danger. Can she solve the mystery before she ends up the next victim?

The best part of Emily's childhood may have been the time she spent with her quirky aunt. So when her favorite relative passes away, she drops everything to attend the funeral in the small town of Oak Creek. But she never expected to inherit her aunt's entire estate, including her massive black dog Bentley. Just as she starts to get the hang of small-town life, an unknown driver runs her off the road and sends her to the hospital.
As doctors tend to her and she makes a connection with a charming Oak Creek resident named Ryan, Emily racks her brain to figure out who would want her dead. When sparks start to fly between her and the Good Samaritan that sat by her bedside, they team up to solve the mystery. Digging into the crime starts to reveal a dark side to Oak Creek and long-held secrets nobody wants revealed. Emily and Ryan must uncover the truth before her assailant comes back to finish the job.


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B.K. Stubblefield is a new writer with a passion for animal rescue. After adopting her new dog Harper, she was quickly overwhelmed with the challenges of raising a "puppy on steroids". Together with her close friend, Debra Wagner, she published 'Rescued: A Tale of Two Dogs', two nonfiction tales of love, patience and commitment.

In an effort to help bring awareness to animal neglect and abuse in our own neighborhoods, B.K. Stubblefield shares several short stories of animals brought out of the shadows and into the light of love in her second book "Rescued: Out of The Shadows."

Fictional short stories and memory books/journals continue to carry the theme of dog rescue.

B.K. Stubblefield is also a contributing author to "Be Their Voice: An Anthology for Rescue, Volume I & II




Her debut novel, 'Secrets in Oak Creek', a mystery/romance, was published in November 2017.


Born and raised in Germany, the author has spent many years supporting her husband's military career. Moving between Europe and the United States, she now makes her home in the small rural town of Elizabethtown, Kentucky where she enjoys the slower pace of small town living. Early morning weekend walks with her dog Harper are among her favorite activities.





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Spotlight: Ashes of Pride by Tracy Cooper-Posey

Ashes of Pride
Tracy Cooper-Posey
(Scandalous Scions , #10)
Publication date: June 27th 2019
Genres: Adult, Historical, Romance

Married in haste, to the wrong man…

Blanche wed Lieutenant Colonel Seymour in search of a hero to replace the French military father she never knew, only to find herself stranded in Northumberland, in a penniless marriage, with no recourse.

Blanche’s cousin, Neil Williams, now a decorated Major, returns from the colonies to rejoin the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. Her husband, as Neil’s superior officer, makes Neil’s life intolerable, as well as her own. Blanche learns that the truly courageous are defined by their actions and that Seymour is not one of them, for what he does to Neil defies imagination…

This book is the tenth book in the Scandalous Scions series, bringing together the members of three great families, to love and play under the gaze of the Victorian era’s moralistic, straight-laced society.

This story is part of the Scandalous Scions series:
0.5 Rose of Ebony
1.0 Soul of Sin
2.0 Valor of Love
3.0 Marriage of Lies
4.0 Mask of Nobility
5.0 Law of Attraction
6.0 Veil of Honor
7.0 Season of Denial
8.0 Rules of Engagement
9.0 Degree of Solitude
10.0 Ashes of Pride

…and more to come!

A Sexy Historical Romance

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EXCERPT:

Neil shifted on his chair, sitting back, drawing attention with his movement. Blanche’s gaze swung to him. Her lips parted. Her eyes widened. Joy spread across her face.

Neil felt a jolt at the pure pleasure in her eyes. Why could she possibly be so glad to see him? Of the five, Neil knew Blanche the least. Her company had always irritated him, for she ran hot and cold in fits and starts, which made her uncomfortable and unpredictable. She was not like Alice, who could be counted upon to be sunny and happy, no matter what.

Yet Blanche was tugging at her husband’s sleeve now with firm insistence. She murmured in his ear.

“Williams, you know Mrs. Seymour?” Edmund Hunter asked.

“Blanche is my cousin.” Neil realized he was smiling, too. He didn’t bother with the convoluted explanations about adoptees and honorary cousins. He got to his feet as Seymour brought his wife over to the table, his gaze on Blanche.

He realized he was just as pleased to see her as she seemed feel about seeing him.

“I had forgotten about that extended family of yours,” Captain Long said, on the other side of the table. “Everyone in William’s family is related to just about everyone who counts,” he added to Lieutenant Roberts, the last man at the table.

“Just about? Make that everyone,” Tom Penny said. “Didn’t you hear? Innesford married the Gainford heiress earlier this year.”

Neil ignored their gossip and watched Blanche, enjoying the sight of a beautiful woman moving. She had the grace and elegance of true European women, who seemed to be born with the knowledge.

“Neil! Oh, Neil!” she breathed, stepping ahead of her husband, her gloved hands coming up. She reached up on her toes and kissed the air by Neil’s cheeks, while Seymour’s eyes bulged. “I heard you were heading back home, but I didn’t think you would arrive for weeks, yet!”

Neil caught at her elbows, steadying her. “Hello, Blanche. It is wonderful to see you. You are the first in the family I have seen since I got back.”

As he spoke, everyone scrambled to their feet to salute the senior officer.

Neil followed suit, while Blanche smiled up at him.

Seymour acknowledged the salute, letting everyone relax.

Blanche turned back to Neil. “You are the first in the family I have seen since before Christmas…oh, Neil!” Her smile trembled and her eyes glittered.

Neil’s chest tightened. Blanche looked as though she was about to cry. The Blanche he knew, the little he did know of her…that woman did not cry. She laughed. She raged. She pouted and stomped her foot. She did not cry. She was too busy sailing through life and sampling all it had to offer to bewail her fate.

Blanche made a soft sound and put her arms around Neil’s neck and hugged him.

For a moment, shock froze his thoughts. He smelled her scent—something spicy that had nothing to do with flowers. Her hair brushed his chin. Heat registered through the slippery satin. Slenderness, too. And a soft roundness he had not enjoyed in far, far too long…

“Oh, dear!” Penny murmured, sounding shocked. Major Hunter smiled indulgently and didn’t bother looking away.

Seymour’s expression grew dark and thunderous.

Neil caught at Blanche’s arms, trying to draw her away from him, good sense returning with a crash.

She stepped back swiftly and put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, please forgive me,” she said to the table. “It has been so long since I saw Neil…I mean, Major Williams.” She gave a small grimace of apology and rested her fingers on Seymour’s arm. “Husband, may I introduce to you my cousin, Major Neil Williams, of Innesford.”

“Cornwall?” Major Hunter said softly. “That Williams?”

“The very one,” Captain Long replied.

Neil saluted. “Lieutenant Colonel.”

“At ease,” Seymour said. “I’ve heard a little about you, Williams.”

Neil let his posture relax. “Sir.” Now the man was closer, he could see he was very young. Possibly younger than Neil. His pale hair was baby-soft. So was his chin.

Seymour’s eyes narrowed. “You’re out of uniform, Williams.”

Neil glanced down at his out-of-date red coat. “I haven’t had time to—”

Seymour glanced at Edmund Hunter. “Major, as Provost Marshall, it is your duty to attend to such slovenliness. Dock the man two shillings a day until he represents the Regiment properly.”

Hunter straightened to attention. “Yes, sir.”

Blanche’s eyes grew larger, as she looked from Neil to her husband.

Two shillings! Neil gritted his teeth. It was an exorbitant sum, especially as the regimental commander was aware of the uniform breech and was willing to tolerate it. Only, Neil could not argue with a senior officer and he was out of uniform.

Seymour glanced around the table of officers, possibly taking note of who dared dine with the slovenly Major. He curled his hand around Blanche’s arm and pulled her away. “Gentlemen,” he said.


Author Bio:

Tracy Cooper-Posey is a #1 Best Selling Author. She writes romantic suspense, historical, paranormal and science fiction romance. She has published over 100 novels since 1999, been nominated for five CAPAs including Favourite Author, and won the Emma Darcy Award.

She turned to indie publishing in 2011. Her indie titles have been nominated four times for Book Of The Year. Tracy won the award in 2012, and an SFR Galaxy Award in 2016 for “Most Intriguing Philosophical/Social Science Questions in Galaxybuilding”. She has been a national magazine editor and for a decade she taught romance writing at MacEwan University.

She is addicted to Irish Breakfast tea and chocolate, sometimes taken together. In her spare time she enjoys history, Sherlock Holmes, science fiction and ignoring her treadmill. An Australian Canadian, she lives in Edmonton, Canada with her husband, a former professional wrestler, where she moved in 1996 after meeting him on-line.

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Audio Spotlight: Secret Love by Isabella

Series: The 4ever Series, Book 2

Release date: Apr. 5, 2019

Synopsis: Guarding a secret and playing with fire has never been a good combination.

Four years ago, Holly Scallenger embarked on the most difficult journey of her life. As if being a single parent isn't already stressful enough, Holly also attended med-school, in hopes of helping other pregnant women in a way she wasn't helped. But things don't look so good as she has to embark on a new journey - a journey that would take her back to Boston, back to the man who broke her heart and discarded her and her babies.

Sworn to never fall for him again, Holy is put to the test once more when a chance encounter reunites them.

Secret Love is the second novel in the 4Ever series by Isabella White

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About the Author: Isabella White

Isabella White is a USA Today Bestselling author. She always knew she was going to be a writer, but it only started to really happen in 2015 when she published Imperfect Love. It was followed two years later by the second part, Secret Love, and in 2018 she published the final part, Endless Love.

When she is not writing she loves to spend her time with her Husband, two daughters and their pets doing whatever journey like takes them on. To find out more about Isabella visit her website at www.isabellawhitebooks.com

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About the Narrator: Stefanie Kay

Stefanie Kay lives on the East Coast of the US with her husband and two young boys. She's always been a book lover and has a background in performing arts. Narration has become a passion and she loves having the honor of bringing these stories to life. She has narrated Paranormal Romance for DB Sieders, Chick-Lit for Charlotte Roth, and Romance for Isabella White, loving how each author has created such depth and layered stories that are easy to get lost in and you can't help but fall in love with the characters.

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About the Narrator: Duane Dale

Duane Dale brings his distinct and unique timber to the voice acting world after searching his soul to find his ultimate calling. Duane's pursuit of becoming a voice actor came in an unexpected and clandestine manner. Since childhood Duane had a severe stutter that mysteriously left him in March 2004. Shortly after losing his speech impediment Duane decided to pursue what he felt was his Destiny: to become a voice actor.

Duane is also an aspiring author, writing is his passion. He has finished his first novel in a series of four stories all told. The first novel is titled, Time, the First Book in the Destiny Series™. The other books in his planned series are: Chaos, Chance and Inheritance.

He writes in the category of Magical realism mixed in with some family saga fiction. As an aspiring writer, Duane understands the challenges of getting published through traditional means and having people enjoy an authors story telling. Because he truly wants his story to be heard, he plans to produce the audio version of his first novel and release it shortly.

Spotlight: The Father of All Dad Guides: From (A)doring to (Z)addy by Madeleine Davies and Tara Jacoby (Illustrator)

A humorous gift book that introduces the different species of American fathers, from A to Z

Of all the mammalian species of North America, few are as paradoxically mysterious and demanding of attention as the human father of the United States. Quiet yet steady in his affection and deafeningly loud when he’s mad, the American dad—as much as we love him—is a particularly exciting study, which is why we’ve created this guide as an aid for readers to identify themselves (if you happen to be a dad), their dads (if you happen to have a dad), dads on television (often a stand-in when your dad’s not around), and dads in the wild.

In The Father of All Dad Guides: From A(doring) to Z(addy), you will learn how to identify fathers through:

· Their markings. Some dads have mustaches. Others do not!
· Dad calls. These include: “I’ll turn this car around right now” and “Can’t you ask your mom about that?”
· Migration patterns. Why does Dad consistently ignore directions when he clearly doesn’t know where he is going?
· Hibernation. Dads are tired all the time. 
· Defining characteristics. All dads are different, but they typically fall into at least one of the categories we’ve collected here. Is your dad obsessed with barbecuing? He might be a grill dad. Did he only really begin to see women as people deserving of political and social equality after he had daughters? That right there is the feminist dad!

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About the Author and Illustrator

Madeleine Davies is a Wisconsin-born writer living in New York. Having spent her twenties writing and editing for Jezebel and Gawker Media, she's now a stay-at-home mom (to two idiot cats) and a freelancer. Her dad and step dad somehow support this lifestyle.

Tara Jacoby is Philly-based illustrator from Vineland, New Jersey. Tara served as Deputy Art Director for Gawker Media before becoming a freelance illustrator. Her work has been published in GQ, The Village Voice, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, Playboy and more. She has a quality dad named Bruce.


Spotlight: Once More We Saw Stars by Jayson Greene

For readers of The Bright Hour and When Breath Becomes Air, a moving, transcendent memoir of loss and a stunning exploration of marriage in the wake of unimaginable grief.

As the book opens: two-year-old Greta Greene is sitting with her grandmother on a park bench on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. A brick crumbles from a windowsill overhead, striking her unconscious, and she is immediately rushed to the hospital. But although it begins with this event and with the anguish Jayson and his wife, Stacy, confront in the wake of their daughter’s trauma and the hours leading up to her death, Once More We Saw Stars quickly becomes a narrative that is as much about hope and healing as it is about grief and loss. Jayson recognizes, even in the midst of his ordeal, that there will be a life for him beyond it–that if only he can continue moving forward, from one moment to the next, he will survive what seems unsurvivable. With raw honesty, deep emotion, and exquisite tenderness, he captures both the fragility of life and absoluteness of death, and most important of all, the unconquerable power of love. This is an unforgettable memoir of courage and transformation–and a book that will change the way you look at the world.

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Excerpt

Ever since the accident, I have avoided going to the park. The park was our place, Greta’s and mine — every tree, every leaf, every passing doggy belonged to the two of us. Even within my cocoon of shock, I am sure going there would pierce my defenses, flooding me the way my first trip outside did after she died.

And then, one day, just as the summer light is beginning to change, I wake up with a familiar itch. I need to go running in the park.

I step outside and feel only the warmth of the sun. I round the corner on the block that leads to the parade grounds, just outside the park’s southwest entrance. The street is wide, quiet, shaded. There is no one outside, no one to nod at, make eye contact with, step around.

I enter the parade grounds and run past fields full of children, my eyes fixed straight ahead. To my left, a middle-school football team is doing speed and endurance drills, dancing frantically on their toes and dropping down for push-ups. Two boys swing a bat lazily to my right, smacking a baseball into the same bulged-out spot on the chain-link. It hits the fence with a loud bong as I run past, but I do not flinch. I reach the edge of the park, tennis courts to my right.

There at the park’s mouth, my heart stirs, and I feel a peculiar elation. I recognize her. Greta is somewhere nearby. I feel her energy, playfully expectant. Come find me, Daddy, she says. Tears spring and run freely down my face. I hear you, baby girl, I whisper. Daddy’s coming to get you.

Elated, I enter the park and immediately spot her; she is waiting for me, hiding behind the big tree in the clearing between the Vanderbilt playground and the duck pond. She appears from behind the tree with a flourish, giggling, just like in our old game: She would run out into the hallway from the bedroom where we had been playing, either naked or in her diaper, and cast me an impish look, asking, “Where’s Greta?” I would feign great perplexity, turning over small toys on the floor to see if she was under them, peeking behind the couch, clutching my head in mock terror. “Oh no, what have we done?” I would moan. “We’ve lost her!” She would laugh, run back in, and announce, “Greta came right back!”

Standing in the park, staring at her, I make a strange and primal sound, deep and rich like a belly laugh, hard and sharp like a sob. You are here. You picked the park. Good choice, baby girl. Oblivious to the people around me, I run to her. She wiggles in anticipatory joy. Stooping down, I scoop her up under her soft armpits, her shoulder blades meeting at the pads of my fingers, and I lift her up into the sky. She is invisible to passersby — to them, there is nothing in the spot next to the tree where she stands laughing and clapping but a patch of grass, and there is nothing in my arms but air. But she is not here for them; she is here for me.

She gazes down at me, her smile that turned crooked at the bottom like mine crumpling her wide-open face. I bend my arms and lower her face down to mine and kiss her, slowly. Then I set her back down in the grass.

You stay here, okay? I say. Daddy’s going for a run, okay, sweetie pie?

Oh yeah, okay! she says back.

I turn around and begin running hard along the perimeter of the pond, where we had dipped her hand in the water, splashing and saying, “Here we go, ducks! Here we go!” The playground recedes behind me, where I had pushed her on the swing while she sang, “Poopy, poopy, poopy poopy,” to the tune of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” at the top of her lungs. “If my kid’s saying ‘poopy’ tonight,” the mother next to me deadpanned, “I’ll know where he picked it up.”

I feel her presence filling up my heart, and with it comes a strange exhilaration that I have felt often in the weeks after her death. Grief at its peak has a terrible beauty to it, a blinding fission of every emotion. The world is charged with significance, with meaning, and the world around you, normally so solid and implacable, suddenly looks thin, translucent. I feel like I’ve discovered an opening. I don’t know quite what’s behind it yet. But it is there.

I am treading ether, a new and unfamiliar kind of contact high. I have been raised secular by my parents, and I’ve never set foot in a church for more than an hour. But I will do anything for Greta, I am learning. And that includes becoming a mystic, so that I might still enjoy her company.

When I reach the edge of the park again, I stop and feel a torrent of words flood me. I grope for my phone, blindly choosing the most recent document, a mess of to-dos and grocery lists. Underneath a reminder to pick up pita and above a confirmation number for a UPS delivery, I write, “There will be more light upon this earth for me.”

Excerpted from Once More We Saw Stars by Jayson Greene. Copyright © 2019 by Jayson Greene. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

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About the Author

JAYSON GREENE is a contributing writer and former senior editor at Pitchfork. His writing has appeared in The New York Times, Vulture, and GQ, among other publications. This is his first book. He lives in Brooklyn with his wife and son.