The Solstice Kept Its Promise

A year ago this weekend, The Harbinger, A Triquetra Chronicle, found its way into the world.

I had intended to launch it on the spring equinox. The book circles around that energy; the turning of seasons, the moment when light and dark hold equal ground, the sense that something is shifting beneath the surface of ordinary life. It felt right. It felt intentional.

The book wasn’t ready. The editing, the formatting, the thousand details that stand between a manuscript and a finished thing…they needed more time. So I waited.

The next logical moment, the one that felt like it carried the same weight, the same threshold energy, was the Summer Solstice. The longest day. The peak of the light. The moment when the sun stands still before beginning its slow return. I launched on the Solstice…I didn’t fully understand until later why that felt so right.

What the Solstice means

The Summer Solstice is a threshold. In the old traditions, the ones that predate the frameworks most of us inherited, it was a time of heightened awareness. A time when the veil between what is seen and what is felt grows thin. When things that have been quietly building beneath the surface finally break through into the light.

It is, in other words, exactly the kind of moment The Harbinger is about.

Sophia’s journey is one of things surfacing that have been buried too long. Ann’s story is one of awareness arriving before the world is ready for it. The whole series is built around the idea that some truths refuse to stay buried…that they find their moment, their threshold, their solstice…and emerge whether we are ready or not.

I chose the Solstice because it felt right. The series chose it because it was always going to be that way.

The thread that kept going

When I wrote The Enigma, I didn’t set out to weave the Summer Solstice into the story. It arrived the way things in this series tend to arrive - as an insistence rather than a decision. Sophia and her soul sisters are in Scotland when both a Friday the 13th and a Summer Solstice find their way into the same story, drawing her circle deeper into the unresolved. The timing in the story mirrors the timing of everything around it.

I noticed that only after it was already written.

That’s the thing about this series. It knows things before I do. It finds its own patterns, its own echoes, its own threads connecting moments I didn’t consciously choose to connect. I write it and then I stand back and see what it has made.

A year ago I launched a book on the Solstice because the book needed more time in the spring. That book became a series. The second book arrived with the Solstice already living inside it. And here we are, one year later, standing at the same threshold again, with two books in the world and a third already pulling at me from somewhere I haven’t fully reached yet.

What a year makes

I won’t pretend it has been easy or straightforward. Building a readership as an indie author is slow, quiet work. There are weeks when the momentum feels real and weeks when it feels like shouting into a void. There are moments of unexpected grace, a stranger at a con saying “congratulations” like they mean it, a reader writing that their jaw dropped, a daughter holding a book and marveling that her mom write it…and moments of doubt that don’t make it onto any social media post.

But the Solstice keeps returning. The light keeps coming back. So does the pull of the story, which has never once wavered even when everything around it did.

The Harbinger turns one this weekend. The Enigma is three weeks old. The Triquetra Chronicles is, in some ways, just beginning.

…and the Solstice - as it always has - arrives right on time.

For the woman reading this

If you have something you’ve been waiting to begin, something you meant to start in the spring but weren’t ready for, the Solstice is a threshold too.

You don’t have to be ready. You just have to begin.

The light is long today. Use it.