Seraphina Nighthollow

Born Under a Blood Moon

In the crooked heart of Salem, Massachusetts, within a crumbling Victorian apothecary that smelled of dried lavender and prophecy, Seraphina Nighthollow drew her first breath during a blood moon eclipse. She was the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter — a lineage the old ways say is touched by sight.

Her grandmother, Moira Nighthollow, was the last in a long line of hedge witches who could read the whispers between worlds. By candlelight, Moira taught young Seraphina to listen — not with her ears, but with the space between her ribs where intuition lives.

At age three, a stray black cat named Obsidian wandered through the apothecary door and refused to leave. By her seventh birthday, seven cats had found her — each arriving during a significant lunar event. Moira recognized the signs: each cat was a familiar, a guardian spirit in feline form, attuned to a different frequency of the unseen world.

Today, Seraphina reads the tarot by the light of hand-poured candles, surrounded by her seven familiars, in the space between the seen and unseen that she calls The Violet Veil.