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Last of the Púca The valley keeps its own books. Break the rules, and something will come to collect. Aoife has lived her whole life among rag trees, ruined forts, and a ford that whispers louder than it should. She has always noticed what others tried to ignore: ribbons cut clean from branches, cattle refusing water, hoofprints pointing backwards in the mud. The parish calls it superstition. Aoife calls it evidence. When survey stakes and brochures begin to rename her home into ""scenic heritage trails,"" she knows trouble is coming. What she does not expect is the land itself answering back. Dragged beneath the ford one night, Aoife does not drown. She comes back changed. Her eyes catch the light like an animal's. She can smell lies like smoke. She can run the lanes as a black horse, hooves pounding through hedges and shadows. The valley has given her its teeth. Every shift costs her memories. Every courtesy owed must be paid in food, truth, or pain. And the púca, the ancient auditor of balance, is watching closely. Developers want the valley stripped and sold. Mercenaries enforce their silence with spades and iron. Neighbors hide behind half-truths and nervous laughter. But Aoife has become something neither side understands. She is no longer just a farmer's daughter with a notebook of omens. She is the valley's debt collector, balancing accounts one hoofbeat at a time. The deeper she leans into her power, the heavier the cost. Memories of her grandmother fade. Favorite meals vanish from her mind. Even her own name begins to fray at the edges. Every time she pays the share, the ledger grows hungrier. Yet she cannot stop. The valley is filling with discourtesies: forts cut by machines, wells disturbed, hawthorns stripped of offerings. The púca's patience is ending, and Samhain night is coming fast. On that night, every unpaid debt will be called in. To save her home, Aoife must outwit corrupt developers, a ruthless enforcer known only as the Crow, and a shadowy Collector who trades in bones and legends. She must master her shifting forms, horse, hare, hound, before they consume what remains of her humanity. And she must decide how much of herself she is willing to give up to keep the balance. Because in this valley, courtesy is currency. Silence is a ledger. And the final bill always comes due. Dark folklore collides with a modern eco-thriller in a story of myth, memory, and power. Last of the Púca is atmospheric, visceral, and unforgettable. Perfect for fans of The Witcher, The Essex Serpent, The Wicker Man, and Tana French's haunted Ireland, this novel will keep you awake long after you've finished, listening for hoofbeats in the dark.

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