grave warmer

Deep in the bayou, where the air hangs heavy and the ground never quite dries, Elodie Bellmere finds herself standing on the front porch of a place she swore she would never visit.

Her father is dying. Everyone knows it, even if no one says it out loud in the pews on Sunday. The congregation prays harder, sings louder. Elodie stays at his bedside and tells herself that faith will be enough. She is the preacher's daughter, raised on scripture and warning, sworn away from the Devil's work before she ever learned its names.

But prayer does not slow a failing body. Medicine does even less.

When his breath begins to falter, when his hands grow cold in hers, Elodie crosses the water and seeks out the woman the church whispers about...

Mara Fenrose, the bayou witch who lives where the cypress roots knot like bones. Mara does not promise salvation. She offers time. Days pulled from the dark, paid for in ways Elodie does not yet understand.

Reluctance gives way to familiarity. Familiarity to something far more dangerous. With every potion brewed, every night spent in the bayou's hush, the line between sin and devotion blurs... and Elodie begins to wonder what, exactly, she is willing to damn herself for.