“Off with your hat!” Mother raged, fists clenched skyward.
Alice set her book down and placed her hand on the banister. Mother’s cheeks flushed redder and redder until Alice feared her head might whistle like a tea kettle and pop off entirely.
“Alice Rose, you’re eighteen, and it’s high time you start acting like
On the way to school, Alice told her sister all about her wild adventures in Wonderland.
“Too bad it was a dream.” Her sister shrugged.
But the memories were far too vivid. Could she really have dreamed an entire book’s worth of madness? Alice couldn’t convince herself otherwise. So, after school, she returned
“Off with her head!”
“First the sentencing, then the case,” chanted the courtiers.
Alice bobbed a quick curtsy as best she could while being held between two burly guards. “If you please, Your Majesty, might I know why I’m here?”
“Don’t play coy with me, child!” The Queen pursed her lips. A scowl highlighted
It was another good morning in Miriel’s garden. Her dog, Matteo, lounged in all of his bulk at her feet. She liked big animals, whether they be dragons or dogs. Since there were no dragons in the town, she settled for a big dog. She sipped her tea and admired her flowers. Her garden
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“You’re lucky to be alive, Ms. Takkenridge. If your Saint Bernard hadn’t howled so loud that half the block called 911, you wouldn’t be.” Dr. Olivera took the stethoscope out of his ears.
I smiled, proud of my dog that did do something in the nighttime. Good boy, Matteo.
“You’ve been at Saint Luke’s
The moon hung low over Bramblewood, casting silvery light across dew-laced branches. It was quiet. Too quiet.
A hush had settled like a held breath, as if the forest itself was listening. Even the usual nighttime chorus of crickets had fallen silent, replaced by a stillness that pressed against Miriel’s senses. Something was coming.
A Dwarf could never be the Chosen One.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I down my third mug of hot fizzleberry juice in the Questers’ Lodge. My feet ache from my last Quest, and the juice slowly warms my insides.
Outside, trumpets toot a familiar tune. The next Quest Call.
Lyra’s greatest desire was to write a story worthy of Miriel Takkenridge.
Three years ago, when Lyra first moved to Bridgewater Falls as an aspiring writer, Miriel took her in. Since then, she had shared the magic in her life with Lyra.
Like the bookshelf that sometimes opened to distant lands. Or the meringue
Cinnamon-scented steam still wafts from my basket of freshly baked muffins. A light breeze ruffles the brunette bangs peeking out of my crimson bandanna. I hope the checkered towel tucked into the wicker will keep the goodies warm for the short walk through the woods to Granny M’s.
A gray figure emerges from the
Brava folds her arms and glares at Frana. “Is this necessary?”
Frana scowls. “You aren’t wearing armor to your wedding. I forbid it.”
“I’m a soldier.” Brava glances at the Multiversal Bridal Boutique. Elegant wood paneling, a carved sign that marries electricity and magic. The proprietor’s from a fantasy world, backwards places
“Awwww, puppy!”
It was a totally weird thing to hear inside the mall. I turned just as a blur of golden fur burst out of the food court. It sped past me, its coat changing colors as it reflected the neon lights of the storefronts. It looked like the Yorkie mutt from the movie Benji.
Disoriented, I sit up and nudge Matteo’s calico off my pillow. With a grunt and a stiff push, I ease out of bed and pull open the curtain. A hint of morning flushes pale shadows from the woods. With my canvas apron wrapped tight, I pull on the sweater by the door and slide
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