

Fairies & Humans
Roisin Putnam, a woman embracing life after a cancer diagnosis, finds herself deep in the wilderness. Her solitary journey takes an unexpected turn when she stumbles upon a hidden world—a realm of tall, striking elves. Kidnapped and brought to their tree-top dwellings, Roisin discovers she's not just an outsider, but a halfling, connected to this magical world in ways she never imagined. As she navigates this new reality, she uncovers secrets about her lineage, challenges preconceptions, and finds an unlikely love, all while preparing for an archery championship that could change everything. Will Roisin truly find where she belongs?The last voicemail, months ago, echoed in Roisin Putnam’s mind: "Your insurance will not cover the cost of the second surgery." Now, every aching muscle and bead of sweat felt like a defiance. She crested the incline, red hair plastered to her forehead, and scanned the vast, unfamiliar land. Her gaze snagged on a distant grove of ancient trees, and a flicker of movement within the branches caught her eye.
Fairies, she thought with an internal chuckle. At 28, she still believed in the mythical. Squinting, she tried to focus, but only saw birds scattering from whatever stirred the dense foliage. A high-pitched whistle, alien to the wilderness she’d called home for weeks, cut through the air. She shook her head, dismissing it, and continued her trek, following a small creek towards a vibrant, flower-filled valley below.
As the sun began to dip, casting long shadows, Roisin found a flat patch of dirt and set up her pup tent. Collecting wood, she soon had a small fire crackling, its warmth a comfort against the encroaching chill. Being a herbalist, living off the land, hunting with her bow—it had all calmed her restless spirit. She’d never belonged in the modern world, and out here, she felt truly free. She yawned, her eyes scanning the worn hiking boots that would soon need replacing, a problem for another day.
Just as she was about to close her eyes inside her tent, muffled footsteps made her snap awake. She grabbed her Bowie knife, her Irish heritage stirring a familiar defiance, and cautiously peered out. The night was silent, but then, hushed voices. She scowled, slipping out of her tent, knife raised, ready for anything. Yet, nothing. The quiet stretched, and she eventually retreated, drifting off to sleep.
