My Uncle Joe is an overachiever. He’s fulfilled legendary quests for the Queen, survived the krakens of the southern oceans, and is the only merchant who hasn’t been robbed by pirates—if you believe his hours-long tales.
Uncle Joe’s exploits nearly always took place out on the high seas, inaccessible to anyone but
Joseph trailed behind his companion, keeping a distance wide enough that if they found the dragon, it would be satisfied with one roasted knight.
“Sir Joseph, do you catch that foul scent? Methinks we draw near.”
Joseph gagged. “Dusk approaches. Perhaps we should return to our stallions and make camp. I shall continue
Joe’s gonna kill me for ditching him.
I surveyed the crowd of humans—attendees of the annual Legendary Law Enforcement Ball—craning my neck to see over their heads as I inhaled another small pastry.
Nah, he wouldn’t kill me. That’d be too much paperwork.
Cool night air swirled through the crowded garden,
“You’re making enough noise to wake the dead,” Dad said from over my shoulder as I upended every bit of stainless-steel-ware in the kitchen drawer, trying to find my giant soup spoon.
“Well, you’d know,” I quipped, “considering you’ve been dead three years.” Then I turned to ask, “What brings you back this time?”
Andrea bit her lip, watching the dangerous groundhog sit on its hind legs, sniff the air, and exhale a wisp of smoke. Then it resumed eating grass.
Whenever Andrea needed repairs or a project done, she called Joe Enza before anyone else. He was dependable and always ready to help. That’s why she liked
My stomach churned when I saw the cabbie that’d driven me to last night’s ball. The paunchy man hadn’t noticed me yet as he took off his cap, revealing the horrid bald spot that his dark, shoulder-length hair surrounded. I took a deep breath.
A bird landed on a mailbox nearby and squawked rather
After traversing through a forest rife with wild beasts and roots thick enough to be tripping hazards, Tad has finally made it. And he could really use a break.
The tower before him is a muddy, grit-stained gray under the vines snaking over its brick walls. It isn’t the grand sight he hoped for
“Hey, Hector, I hear you’re an OG at this store.”
“Five months.” Hector pulled the last two pink dice from the box and placed them in the display window by the front door. Behind him the “Happy olidays” sign that had lost its “H” fluttered in the air. A plastic Santa and reindeer
Yuletide never ceases to remind me of the day I ruined everything.
The wind chills me, and I shiver in spite of thick fur. I stare from my tower balcony to the snowscape below.
I hold the lute in my clawed hands. Living and enchanted, he had once been my father’s minstrel.
I stared through the window from my perch on the eucalyptus tree. Tonight was the night. I crept down the trunk and froze as the lights flipped on inside the house. A human wandered into the room, holding a plate of delectable treats before him. Two smaller humans jumped and skipped around him
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Addie Thatcher was in the wrong place—according to old people, anyway.
They claimed that on Christmas Eve, every child should be asleep in their bed, but Addie found herself downstairs long before dawn. Giggling, she pointed her flashlight at the foot of the tree where an enormous gold-and-red package sat, screaming her name.
Wan December sunlight shone down on Fairyland, softening the edges of nearby buildings. The clear blue sky boded well for the first day of business at Frank’s Detective Agency.
My detective agency.
I turned toward my desk, clapping my fore-hooves in anticipation. Perhaps my first case would be a big one, like those portrayed
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