Ivy Thornwood writes cozy DARK paranormal noir mysteries set in small towns where the fog is thick, the neighbors are civil, and a good third of the population is concealing something the parish council would rather not minute.

Her books contain witches, ghosts with strong opinions and poor timing, familiars who have taken the chair you wanted, questionable ancestors, and at least one kitchen warm enough to make you forget there is a body somewhere in the second act.

She does not believe in murders solved by convenient supernatural revelation. In her experience the dead are unreliable witnesses — they remember the fear and not the face, the hour and not the year, and they are frequently more interested in an old grievance than in the corpse currently under discussion. Magic will tell you that something dreadful happened. It will not tell you who. That part still takes paying attention.

She thinks the most interesting question in any mystery is not who did it, but who noticed — and what it cost them.