Warmth does not come to the peaks as quickly as it does the valley. For though the mountains here remain frozen in winter’s grasp, the basin below my tomb has thawed, and in the valley, flowers bloom. From the summit I watch as thick snow melts and flows into rising streams that feed the invaders’ crops and cattle and greed.
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Let me tell you the story of a dragon who wanted to be a man.
My name is Eleanor Thornhail, and I’m a worldhopper—long story—and I’d gotten myself stranded on a strange world of magic and dragons.
One dragon in particular was my ticket out. I’d found him hiding among the humans, working as a librarian for the Infinite Library.
Every spring, the past called Cheroth back to a land that did not want her, compelling her against reason or need. She swept low over the tree line and into full view of the village, beating her wings in the slow rhythm of one trying to suppress hope. A woman caught her shadow and looked up.
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After my daughter and her husband’s car accident, it was just Carter and me. Then, three years later to the day that I had buried his parents, I laid six-year-old Carter beside them.
Leukemia.
Most of the people at the funeral were my grandson’s friends. A few had tears running down their cheeks as they hugged their parents…
“You’re about to see wonders none of your friends back home will believe.” The old sailor wiped his sweaty brow with a stained cloth. “Y-e-p.”
He dragged the word out to three distinct syllables, and Daryn gritted his teeth. That dingy, smelly codger danced daily on what nerves remained in Daryn’s control…
Get comfortable, my exquisite Snowflake. I have a story to tell.
My tale begins with a meandering stroll through a chilly, moonlit forest. As I wandered, families slumbered in cozy cottages, blissfully unaware that dawn’s golden light would soon reveal intricate patterns on their windowpanes, an icy gift from none other than myself, Jack Frost.
Here’s a fact: Santa Claus isn’t one person. He was, once, as far as we can tell, but now, he’s five, and they go by S.A.N.T.A.
Sven, Antonio, Nielson, Tantony, and Archibald—Five, because expecting one man to do all they do in one night is ridiculous, even if he did have magic to help.
Everyone knows you’re supposed to exchange sweets with loved ones on Valentine’s Day.
What no one had ever specified—probably for lack of a reason—was that those sweets probably shouldn’t be sentient.
My bad.
“Broomsticks and baubles!” I stood in the middle of the kitchen of my magical boarding school,
When I signed up for Fated—supposedly the best app for online paranormal dating—I had no idea being a Seer would make it so hard to envision a future with my matches.
Like this vampire. His fangs sprout over his bottom lip as he licks away a speck of spaghetti sauce. “My mother
The ground reverberates with a pair of careless footsteps and my slumbering mind stirs in response. Who has chosen to awaken me, the Verdant Guardian, Great and Wise Watcher of the Forest, from my deep slumber?
A growl escapes my throat. The intruder’s anonymity won’t last… Connected to the forest, I listen… I feel…
Jadoni never smiled during the first half of the school year.
During the second half, she might consider it—if the students had earned it. But good student relationships begin with a healthy fear of their teacher.
Students don’t obey teachers who always smile at them.
And this particular group had a reputation.
Every January, for one week, the North Pole sleeps. Elf families tuck in with enough firewood to last, the kitchen elves pass out reheatable frozen meals prepared before the break, and if an elf so desires, he doesn’t have to see another soul for seven blissful days.
This is my favorite week…
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