Something skittered under Avery’s bed.
Not again.
He opened his eyes. The bedroom door was cracked open, sending a thin line of hallway light over the bed. Across the room, the clock on Avery’s dresser showed 9:47 p.m. Its digital face illuminated the Captain America
I have nobody to blame but myself for bringing home that blasted opossum.
Last week, I gazed down at it, sprawled wounded and unmoving in a cratered building.
My conscience wouldn’t let me leave it.
So I brought it home.
Playing nursemen for the criminal cyborg started
When the doctor said I needed an emotional support animal, I expected to be assigned a typical house pet. A dog, maybe. A cat if I was feeling ambitious. I was okay with something that shed, but not something that could be detected by satellite.
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You think you know all the weird creatures in the world—tiny dragons, cats with pine needles for fur—and then you try to enter your dorm room.
“Don’t go in there, Drew.” My roommate, Matt, blocks the door with his tall, lanky body.
“Um… why?”
“There’s a
Brad clutched his rooster, Leopold, by the neck as he trudged up the steep mountain path.
As a farm boy, he was used to long days of hard work under the elements. But the trek up Flaimen Peak always winded him, and he wasn’t looking forward
“It’s dangerous to stay here.” Lili gazed at me with red-brown eyes. “We should go.”
Leave the comfort of Steve and Talia’s house? I had to calm Lili’s fears before she ruined the good thing we had going.
“We’re house flies,” I protested. “If we weren’t meant to live in houses, why call us that?
The kingdom shimmered in anticipation of the king’s birthday, and Blackguard grimaced at the iced cupcakes, foil balloons, and dragon bobble-heads in shop windows. Beneath his stealthy feet, the cobblestones glistened from a recent scrubbing; around the castle’s main courtyard, the lampposts with
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“Padre,” says the outlaw next to me at the bar. “I need yer help.”
Gold glints at the corners of his mouth. He reeks of trail dust, manure, sweat, and tobacco. The bartender bot drifts toward the till and a silent alarm. The conversations
Dee Dalsey was constantly surrounded by heroes. Big heroes. Little heroes. (One that could be either, depending on the need.) Heroes with super strength, super speed, or super senses. Not to mention the whole slew of heroes that could fly.
Yet none
The Dark Lord Vangir snapped his newspaper into crisp submission.
All around him, the summery sounds of mountain life hummed. A pleasant breeze brushed through the weave of his reclining lawn chair, working with the goblet of chilled red lemonade in his calloused hand
“Evie! Wake up!” I shake my sister, careful not to touch her skin, and grimace at the new color engulfing her favorite fluffy blanket.
“Tiff?” Evie yawns. I back away. She opens her eyes, takes one look at me, and shrieks.
“Shhh!” I wave my hands, eyes wide.
“What happened to you?” she hisses,
“Mason, what do you think?” Aunt Peggy asks, beaming.
It’s terrible.
Of course, I don’t say that out loud. Aunt Peggy would be inconsolable if I do. So I swallow and hope my face doesn’t express my shock. “Aunt, you shouldn’t have.”
She giggles
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