Abigail Clair Davis grew up in the foothills and mountain-carved valley of California, where the wind whispers ancient secrets, whether you’re meant to hear them or not. You always place three iron stakes at each entrance to your home, and you never put a “Welcome” mat at the door. Her menagerie of pets includes a spider, a 5′ long snake, and a black Flemish Giant rabbit, all three whom she adores. Abigail grew up watching for rabbits in the cemetery with her mom and her niche interest is in mortuary. Her first home on her own had a dark cement basement where a large raven’s wing was tacked above an entrance. She never went back down there, but whatever was down there seemed to come back up with her and, perhaps, remains with her still. When she isn’t writing, she can often be found in her backyard at night, staring at the moon and stars while she watches for the bats to start their hunt.
Abigail got her Bachelor’s degree in English Creative Writing in 2026, and begins her MFA in 2027. She is a Push Cart Prize nominated author, and publishes regularly in literary magazines.
If you would like to send fan mail to the snake, his PO Box is XXXXXXXXX. He’s an excellent conversationalist, but struggles with his ‘s’ words.
