🌙 The Making of a Myth: The Moon Lore Guide

Some stories are written, and others are revealed — like light breaking through clouds.
For me, The Moon Lore Guide was always waiting.

I’ve loved the moon since I was little — its quiet presence, its pull, its way of saying you’re never really alone, you’re just in another phase. I didn’t plan for the moons in Styled for Revenge to become their own mythology; they grew that way. Each one carried a fragment of the story — a moment, a mood, an emotion that refused to fade. They became symbols for the energy running through the book itself: grief, rebirth, reckoning, creation. And together, they formed a constellation — The Thirteen Moons.

When the very first author proofs of Styled for Revenge arrived, it was under a waxing gibbous moon — almost full, but not quite there. The story was alive, but it still needed its final polish, its last quiet edit before it could shine the way it was meant to. That moon felt like a reflection of where I was too: almost there, still forming, still learning what this book wanted to become.

Weeks later, the final edited edition arrived on the night of the full moon. And that felt like more than timing — it felt like a sign. The cycle had completed itself. What began as fragments of pain and courage had become something whole, luminous, and ready to rise.

That night, I remember stepping outside and looking up at the sky, the finished book in my hands. The moon hung there — bright, perfect, and still — as if she was giving her blessing. It was quiet, almost reverent. Like she’d been watching this story the whole time, waiting for the moment it was ready to be seen.

The Moon Lore Guide grew from that rhythm — part mythology, part reflection, part love letter to the women who rise, fall, and rise again. Each moon has a name, a symbol, and a story. Together, they form a map of transformation — from darkness to light, from silence to voice, from heartbreak to reclamation.

These moons aren’t just Sloane’s; they belong to all of us.
To the dreamers, the builders, the ones who glow quietly even when unseen.
To the women who are never lost — only waxing.

With Love and Fire -Tether Sparks