Ivy Spellman writes witchy books for women who are done pretending life is Pinterest-perfect and ready to embrace their magical mess.
She lives in a cabin at the edge of the woods with roughly three hundred houseplants (she stopped counting after the ferns staged a takeover), a cat who judges her life choices, and a coffee maker that may or may not be haunted. She believes in second chances, the healing power of a good story, and the absolute certainty that midlife is when the magic kicks in.
When she's not writing about hot flashes and hexes, she's propagating something in a jar of water, talking to her monstera like it's a therapist, or wandering barefoot through the woods because shoes are a social construct she only tolerates when forced to leave her property. She has strong opinions about the full moon and a standing appointment with the sunrise.
