“Coppelia Potts, Nightmare Hunter.” Coppelia extended her business card, which proudly proclaimed her name and profession. “You called about a little… pumpkin infestation?”
The farmer’s daughter examined the card and nodded.
“I’m Abby. Where’s your brother? Shouldn’t he be here?”
“Wolfgang’s sick, so I’m going solo today.” Coppelia pulled her bright orange hair
We stole his nose at midnight.
Amidst a sea of snowy mountain pinewood, my cousin Cory and I waded into a clearing where we discovered a man of winter standing upright like a statue. We crept toward the plump figure with caution, hunting rifles ready. Nothing stirred, not even the wind.
My stomach
“Well, Gram, here’s to you.”
Kevin popped the cap off a bottle of beer and tilted the first sip of pleasantly bitter brew onto his tongue. Gram had never cared for alcohol much. That was probably Gramp’s fault—too many bad memories—but Kevin’s after-dinner beer tended to accompany reflection.
And tonight was
“Could you maybe… not do that?” I pleaded with the fairy as she zipped around the elephant pen.
I’m just an intern at Safari-Land Sanctuary and Tours, and arguing with pixies isn’t on my list of daily tasks—especially not when an important client is scheduled for a tour. I was finishing the
Twenty-four hours to weave garments fit for a queen. Arachne’s hands shook as a guard shoved her into the small weaving room and slammed the door shut behind her. She looked up at the massive heap of purple chaff just ahead, covering the shadowed floor in front of her.
This is what I get.
The colossal purple dragon’s scraping snores pierced Eileen’s ears. She froze at the entrance of the cave, her every muscle screaming for her to run.
She took a deep breath, increasing her grip on her deerskin satchel. I can’t stop now; Lottie is depending on me.
Slowly, Eileen entered the dark, humid cave,
My true love, Prince Corduroy, was a bear. I mean that in the nicest, kindest, and most loving sense. Thanks to the Committee’s vindictive curse, he transforms into a grizzly bear during daylight.
But I had kissed him!
“Shouldn’t that undo the curse?” I asked my best friend and fairy godmother, Amelia.
Alvina Hutcherton lifted her nose to the sky, spread her fragile, black wings, and reveled in the crisp, night air. She hadn’t been able to fly in years. Old age was a downer, even for a bat. But every night, Nurse Shelly would put on her black sunhat, perch Alvina on top of it,
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Royal walked through the granite street of Beryl City thinking of how he would kill his father. Elegant buildings towered on each side of the wide road, testaments of just how full of life this city was compared to the middle-of-nowhere hole he grew up in. Every few houses, his father’s flag flew,
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There are two rooms we don’t talk about.
One’s the scullery. No need to talk about it—we live there.
The other’s Miss Mary’s room.
Master Falwell keeps the door locked. Wears the key ’round his neck. Never speaks about the daughter he loved and lost, the wispy girl on the brink of womanhood
Nova curled her legs up and tucked her toes underneath her nightgown. Damp tears rolled down her face as she sat on her bed in the dark. The curtains were drawn, and the mirror was covered up, as always, but even that couldn’t blot out the reminder of her differentness, especially after today’s
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The wishing tree stood right where Ella had said it would. Ryn stumbled through the graveyard, stopping before a small white headstone. Behind it, a tall, slender tree stood, its dark green leaves veined in gold. Doves cooed in its branches, nestled close to one another as they slept.
It won’t grant every wish,
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