…Cloak of Magick…

Since my last post, I received sixteen chapters of the first draft, back from my editor and new tales are pushing at my consciousness. A deeper work in progress, my first non-fiction is well under way.

Long walks in a wet landscape, reveal the flotsam and jetsum of nature-treasures… are they meant to be found by, thus, showing themselves. Each item has a story to tell and each gives a hint of the wild tales unfolding in my next series in progress.


Spring is long and cold, but very conducive to hours of writing or editing, at the farm. Only working at the gallery, two days a week, on average, has loaned itself to a greater output, word-wise.

Although my books to date are in the category of fiction, where does fiction end and inner experiences become truth, become reality. Where do fiction and myth, crossover? How much do we influence our world through our thoughts and dreams and through the direction of our will? Where your mind goes energy flows, is what I am attempting to express through this series. As I began this book, I realised how much of me is in all of my works. A greater part of me is the wild child Alma, from my previous series, Silver’s Threads as much as the shapeshifters and other characters, born of my inner meanderings and my search for understanding through the years. If we believe something is, then indeed we are the co-creators of its birth. The metaphorical journeys of the characters in this series are a taste perhaps of what humans are capable. What is attainable when they let go the fear of change or the unknown that holds them in thrall. Through a series of belief systems, they may have embraced, less than the ideal family values and ties, friends, teachers and peers. All these learned patterns can be our undoing unless we can identify what our own beliefs are or what is ingrained, picked up, so to speak, in the growing years of childhood, also dependent on the environment of those years. Each of my characters has a strong intellect but no less a strong belief in other realms of being, whereas so many people have an, if you can’t see it with physical eyes it can’t exist, mentality. I say to people of this nature, …you can see the trees move but you can’t see the wind. I challenge you to follow the threads of your own lives and ancestry, not in a linear direction but in a widespread, far-reaching continuum, for I truly believe nothing really dies, merely changes form.

A wee snippet, from Shards, a dark faerie tale, the first in my Cloak of Magick series, set in Cornwall and Australia, where my readers may find some familiar characters and many new…


Spyrys dance their circle round

…in sacred grove, they make no sound

In Elder grove and cairn of stone

…lay together Spyrys and human bone

I am a Dowra Spyrys …a sprite of nature and the element of water. I am a little mystery, and I work, mostly, in tune with the mother’s desires. I am not evil or wicked, but I am different to you, human, not conditioned to your right/wrong, good/bad influences and beliefs, and thus, indifferent to your belief structures with which you try to control the planet.

            For we Spyrys, everything just is, called up by the invoker through their hopes and dreams or negative and positive thoughts, towards themselves or others.

            I am able to travel far across the worlds and between the realms as I follow the waterways under and above ground. Two places call me, and it is in one or the other, I appear to help one who is lost, find her own Spyrys again, her own Spirit.

            If, somewhere in between, I may bring help to those who do not know they need it, then all to the good, for I am the Spyrys of Dowra, water, in the human tongue, which no one in any form, finned, winged, four or two-legged can live without. Three days without my element, and you are on your way to the realms of the Spyrys.

            I watch, I observe the humans who strive for their simple lives, a’feared of me and of their own powers to see me. They forget that they are not given the Fae gifts by chance, for somewhere in the between they asked for it, dreaming that they may see the truth of the otherwise hidden realms. I come to help them open their eyes and to help the one who has become lost through another’s greed and what you would call evil.

Greetings and blessings from Beyond the Gate Farm… Penny

Copyright Penny Reilly… All rights reserved.

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