As Long As Our Bones Lie Together
About
A haunting folkloric dark fantasy about love, loss, and the undead. Where the wind whispers, the dead gather, and one woman must defy both worlds to protect the man she loves.
4.4/5 ★ (44 ratings)
The Storm Is Calling
The Skirling Wind has awakened, and with it, the dead. Sionna, robbed of her voice and feared by her own people, hears a call that no one else can. A call that promises salvation, but hints at ruin. This is a tale of forbidden love, ancient forces, and the thin, trembling line between the living and the dead. If you crave stories that feel like mist curling through a forest at dusk, this one is for you.
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This is perfect for you if you enjoy
- dark fantasy rooted in folklore
- atmospheric, lyrical writing
- undead mythology with emotional depth
- stories where love and dread intertwine
- heroines who fight with courage, not power
- worlds that feel ancient, haunted, and alive
What Readers Are Saying
“Haunting and immersive.”
“A heart‑rending tale of loss, love, and hope.”
“The prose is elegant and precise, building a rich atmosphere that feels both ancient and immediate.”
“A haunting, folklore‑laden setting that offers a fresh take on the undead genre.”
“This haunting story of love and longing from beyond the grave will stay with you long after you’ve turned the final page."
Step Into the Storm
Read the opening of Chapter 1:
She leaps behind a tree, her back pressed against the rough bark. The shirt sticks to her damp skin, the mugginess unbearable. Her heart thumps wildly, uncontrollably, sounding hollow in her ears. She cups the flame, blocking the candle from revealing much. She remains as quiet as death itself... Listening to the commotion... Listening as it fades... Not daring to breathe.
Could it have been a night bird, flapping between bare branches? A large one? Or something else, and dangerous? Whatever it is, it comes to rest farther away, deep silence falling back over the forest. Deep, but flawed. She still hears things, but not from nearby.
Silly me, she thinks. But better silly than punished.
She unwinds, sucking the moist, earthy air.
She braves the road again, allowing the tiny flame to light her steps. It ain’t much, and the full moon shines strongly, and she knows the way to the sea by heart. Still, it’s good to have a candle lit when traveling the woods, in the dead of night. A good precaution, for all good folk.
Is this what I am? Good folk? She has her doubts, but she can hope…
The soft mud sticks to her heels and squeezes between her toes. She loves it more than ever! Its coldness, its musky smell, its touch. She’s always loved tossing away her boots and running barefoot, ever since she was a child. Now, there’s no one to stop her from doing it, only the moon to smile at her and the soft wind to goad her further.
The Skirling Wind. The one talking to her. Each and every night when it comes blowing, it brings words. Words she can hear. She has never heard a gust or breeze speak, not until weeks ago. But it was too cold then to listen to it and leave her home.
Not anymore. Spring is here.
A couple of nights ago she ventured out for the first time and entered the woods, following its call. The next night she ventured farther, then farther still, until it became clear it was calling from the sea. Tonight, maybe she’ll go where the waves break. She misses them. Also, she’s curious what the voice wants, though something deep inside her dreads the weirdness of it. What if something bad happens? What if I don’t return home in time? They’ll search for me, and they’ll punish me.
At least I get to see the waves.
Oh shit! The barking of dogs makes her jump. She darts again, slipping off the road. With her heart in her mouth, she nestles herself between the upended roots of a great oak.
The barks are frantic.
“Who’s there?” shouts an old man with a gruff voice.
Hands trembling, she blows out her candle, killing the light. She can’t give herself up! At this hour of night, bad folk walk the woods. Bandits, smugglers, poachers. They might think she is bad too. She can’t explain who she is or why she’s here. She can’t even call for help, not since she’s lost her gift of speech.
“Who…?” he repeats.
“Just a beast,” says the other, younger, with a clear, melodious timbre. “The hounds caught a scent. Ran by now, with all the noise.”
“Might be you’re right,” comes the answer. But so do the footsteps.
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Join the Storm
Let the wind guide you.
Let the dead whisper.
Let love rise from the grave.
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Praise for this book
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ My first impression of this book was that it was beautifully written, right from the start; so many of the author’s descriptions of events had me purring! The book is also very dark, but it has a story of a deep but tragic love underpinning it, leaving you rooting for Sionna and Elber throughout, hoping against hope that they can somehow surmount the obstacles thrown in their way and be together.
Alas, threats abound from many different angles, above all from the malevolent Skirling Wind which orchestrates death and chaos in the communities covered by this tale.
As you progress through this dark and oppressive battle for survival, the author’s words and descriptions hit new heights, enabling the reader to see, hear, feel and even taste the action – right down to a severed piece of tongue of one of Sionna’s attackers landing in her own mouth!
Overall, if you’re into stories about the undead you are in for a treat with this one, with particularly graphic descriptions of the final battle that paint a picture of a chaotic and brutal melee. However, it is the tenderness of the love between Sionna and Elber which wins the day for me! Their love is beautifully captured and very moving.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ The fantasy world Razvan has gifted us here is a wondrous & frightening place. Set in the same world as his collection of short stories (A Binding to Set You Free) and other forthcoming works, we get to experience the world through the eyes of Sionna. She's a young woman deeply in love, and whose death is an impermanent thing. Imagine a love so deep and true that it is able to pull you through death's door and out the other side?
Through Sionna we get to experience the wrongness of her undeath, yet simultaneously root & cheer for her. Her undead body has a capacity for great evil, but somehow the purity of her love is enough to make the reader overlook this and root for her success.
Readers seeking an atmospheric, heart-rending tale of loss, love, and hope will devour this novella with the vigor of a corpse eater (you'll get the reference after you read it).
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ The novella "As Long As Our Bones Lie Together" serves as a perfect entry point into Razvan-Gabriel Popa’s fantasy world. In this dark fantasy, Sionna, recently undead and forced to feed on the life energy of the living, follows the ominous Skirling Wind to uncover the peril threatening her village and the man she loves. Popa’s mature, stylish prose evokes a haunting, folklore-laden setting that offers a fresh take on the overdone undead genre. The author captures the delicate balance between romance and horror, love and loss, life and death. This compact format allows the story to move swiftly without sacrificing emotional depth or worldbuilding. A tasty teaser into a richly imagined universe.