Zorya Polunochnaya Perfume Oil $32.00

Zorya Polunochnaya Perfume Oil

$32.00

Her hair was pale and colorless in the moon’s thin light. She wore a white cotton nightgown, with a high lace neck and a hem that swept the ground. Shadow sat up, entirely awake. “You are Zorya Polu . . . ,” he hesitated. “The sister who was asleep.”

“I am Zorya Polunochnaya, yes. And you are called Shadow, yes? That was what Zorya Vechernyaya told me, when I woke.”

“Yes. What were you looking at, out there?”

She looked at him, then she beckoned him to join her by the window. She turned her back while he pulled on his jeans. He walked over to her. It seemed a long walk, for such a small room.

He could not tell her age. Her skin was unlined, her eyes were dark, her lashes were long, her hair was to her waist and white. The moonlight drained colors into ghosts of themselves. She was taller than either of her sisters.

She pointed up into the night sky. “I was looking at that,” she said, pointing to the Big Dipper. “See?”

“Ursa Major,” he said. “The Great Bear.”

“That is one way of looking at it,” she said. “But it is not the way from where I come from. I am going to sit on the roof. Would you like to come with me?”

 

Pale amber and ambergris, gossamer vanilla, moonflower, and white tobacco petals.

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We are marking the ten-year anniversary of our American Gods collaboration with Neil Gaiman by introducing the next installment of scents inspired by his beautiful, harrowing, heart-shredding novel. It is one of my favorite books and Neil is one of my favorite humans, so this project is extremely dear to my heart.

The paradigms were shifting. He could feel it. The old world, a world of infinite vastness and illimitable resources and future, was being confronted by something else-a web of energy, of opinions, of gulfs.

People believe, thought Shadow. It’s what people do. They believe. And then they will not take responsibility for their beliefs; they conjure things, and do not trust the conjurations. People populate the darkness; with ghosts, with gods, with electrons, with tales. People imagine, and people believe: and it is that belief, that rock-solid belief, that makes things happen.

The mountaintop was an arena; he saw that immediately. And on each side of the arena he could see them arrayed.

They were too big. Everything was too big in that place.

There were old gods in that place: gods with skins the brown of old mushrooms, the pink of chicken flesh, the yellow of autumn leaves. Some were crazy and some were sane. Shadow recognized the old gods. He’d met them already, or he’d met others like them. There were ifrits and piskies, giants and dwarfs. He saw the woman he had met in the darkened bedroom in Rhode Island, saw the writhing green snake-coils of her hair. He saw Mama-ji, from the carousel, and there was blood on her hands and a smile on her face. He knew them all.

He recognized the new ones, too.

Neil Gaiman is the winner of numerous literary honors and is the New York Times bestselling author of The Ocean at the End of the Lane, American Gods, Neverwhere, Stardust and Anansi Boys; the Sandman series of graphic novels; three short story collections and one book of essays, The View From the Cheap Seats.

Neil is the first author to win both the Carnegie Medal and the Newbery Medal for one work, The Graveyard Book. He also writes books for readers of all ages including the novels Fortunately, the Milk and Odd and the Frost Giants and picture books including The Sleeper and the Spindle and the Chu’s Day series. Neil’s most recent publication, Norse Mythology has topped bestseller lists worldwide.

Originally from England, he now lives in the USA. He is listed in the Dictionary of Literary Biography as one of the top ten living post-modern writers, and he says he owes it all to reading the Writers’ & Artists’ Yearbook as a young man.

This series based on Neil Gaiman’s American Gods, winner of the Hugo, Nebula, Locus, SFX Magazine and Bram Stoker Awards for Best Novel, and now a Starz television series.

Visit Neil’s official site, American Gods at Starz, and NeverWear.

Your purchase from Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab will help our friends at the National Coalition Against Censorship promote and defend First Amendment rights.

Original American Gods art by Hugo-winner Julie Dillon.

PERFUME OIL BLENDS

Presented in an amber apothecary glass vial.
Because of the nature of this project, imps are not available for any American Gods scents.

Reviews

  1. Gloame

    Starlight and calm dreams. It’s very elegant and understated, but not at all boring. There’s definitely something to it that will pique the interest of anyone who catches a whiff. On me, it’s very close to the skin, but I’ve read others who are finding it more apparent.

    Where I’d wear it: To sleep under the stars in pastoral Wales.

  2. Jenjin

    Oh, dazzling Zorya moon, how illuminating you are.
    Full of lunar rays, glowing in the neverending darkness with your chilled, silver light.
    When I wear this, I wake up the whole world with me!
    It truly shines too bright and euphoric, but what a glorious, wild shine.
    It is slightly metallic, like the scent of crystals, glass shards and tilted frozen moonflowers under the thin, spring ice.
    A very cerebral scent indeed.

  3. josefinstjernqvist

    I love this scent! Smells floral straight out of the bottle and it has a mild scent, mild like Morocco. It’s not overpowering, it’s sweet, soft and delicious. Wet on my skin it’ll smell a bit soapy but when it dries down it smells flowery and sweet. I know the smell of vanilla but it has another sweetness to it, which I guess is the ambergris. If you like sweet (not sugary) and mild scents, well this one is for you!

  4. Lauren

    Got this because someone in BPAL Madness likened it to Edith. I (unwisely) did not full-bottle Edith at the time, so I went ahead with this; Zorya Polunochnaya is not an Edith though. The vanilla and flowers blend seamlessly together, neither overpowering the other, and definitely not lending a gourmand feel. Definitely a treat, as the flowers are not the watery carnations I was hoping they’d be, but a full bodied garden.

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