🌸 Surprise Mother’s Day Free Read! 🌙

 By Seraphine Vela

To the ones who gave birth.
To the ones who raised themselves.
To the daughters learning how to mother differently—this one’s for you.

In honor of Mother’s Day, I’m giving away my newest short story When the Moon Was Heavy for FREE from May 11–17, 2025 on most ebook platforms (excluding Amazon for now—thank you, price match drama 💅🏽). After that, it’ll be available for $2.99, soft and permanent, like a stretch mark that tells a story.

✨

This story didn’t come from nowhere. It came from my own weird, tender, complicated relationship with my mom. I’m not a mom myself, but I’ve often felt like I had to be my own. That feeling—the ache of emotional distance and the desire to do better—was the seed for When the Moon Was Heavy.

I was also heavily inspired by Britney Spears’ haunting, luminous ballad “Someday (I Will Understand).” The music video, with Britney tender and expectant, barefoot and vulnerable, lives rent-free in my heart. There’s something universally sacred about women preparing to create life, even when they’re still figuring out how to live it themselves.

So here’s your invitation to spend some time with Emily Hunter—fashion student, dreamer, diary-writer, and future mom figuring it out one cosmic metaphor at a time.

💕 When the Moon Was Heavy

A diary-style short story for the emotionally haunted, creative women who got tired of holding it all in.

Summary:
When the Moon Was Heavy is a tender and raw diary-style short story following Emily Hunter, a 25-year-old Commercial Fashion Design major with a secret soft spot for josei manga and cosmic metaphors. Eight months pregnant and preparing for her senior capstone at Avalon Central University, Emily navigates the bittersweet territory between girlhood and womanhood while trying to stitch together a future with her long-time boyfriend, Rashad.

Set in the dreamy, high-stakes world of Ivory Spire’s creative elite, Emily's story unfolds through poetic, purple prose-filled diary entries that explore identity, self-worth, unresolved childhood wounds, and the terrifying magic of impending motherhood. When a false labor scare forces her estranged mother into her orbit and her ambitions come crashing into the reality of her swollen belly, Emily begins a transformation not unlike the moon’s own: messy, luminous, inevitable.

📓 Sneak Peek

Diary Entry 1 — Week 32: Lacy Bras & Cheese Fries
Dear future me (and future baby),
Today I cried over a lace bra. Not because it didn’t fit—okay, it didn’t—but because the salesgirl told me “there’s no shame in going comfort over cute now.”
Now?

I used to imagine motherhood like a Pinterest board: linen onesies, soft ambient lighting, me standing in profile with a flower crown over my pregnant belly like some kind of fertility goddess.
But today, I waddled into the fitting room with swollen feet and devoured cheese fries in the campus café like a cave witch. Rashad still kissed me, grease and all.

A girl in my Manga Studies seminar whispered, “Did you hear she’s still trying to graduate?” Like I’m a myth. Or a warning.

I pretended not to care. But my stomach coiled, like the baby could feel the shame I swallowed. Like maybe I am a warning.

Rashad bought me strawberry pocky and called me “divine.” I want to believe him. I want my daughter to never feel the way I do right now: small, loud, too much.
Love, Emily

Diary Entry 2 — Week 33: Her Voice on the Voicemail
My mom called.
I didn’t pick up. I just listened to the voicemail three times. She sounded soft—too soft. Like the kind of soft she only uses when she wants something or feels guilty for something. I don’t know which is worse.

She said, “I want to be there... this time.”
This time.

I told Rashad. He said it’s probably a good thing, but his voice had that paper-thin edge. He doesn’t know the full version of her. Only the highlight reel from holidays.

She wasn’t cruel. Just... absent. Like a room full of furniture with no warmth.
I wonder if I’ll disappear too. If that’s hereditary.

I don’t know if I should call her back.
Love, Emily

Diary Entry 3 — Week 34: His Eyes Changed
Rashad and I had a fight. Our first real one since we found out.
He asked if I was going to invite my mom to the hospital. I deflected. He pressed. I snapped.
I said, “She didn’t show up for me. Why should I give her front-row seats now?”

His eyes changed. Not angry—just… sad.
He said, “Maybe this isn’t about her anymore. Maybe it’s about what kind of woman you want to be.”
I hate when he’s right.

He held my hand later while I sobbed into a maternity pillow.
We didn’t solve anything. But he stayed. He always stays.
Love, Emily

If you read this and it resonates, I would love to hear from you. Leave a review. Share it with someone who needs a little moonlight and truth. 💛

Follow me for more heart-heavy stories with a little stardust:
🌐 BlueSky: @90sinspiredink
🖋️ Blog: ShadowLight Press

Happy Mother’s Day. 🌷 Whether you are one, love one, or healing from one—you are seen.

With love and stardust,
Seraphine Vale