The sneeze quivered on Munya’s nose, and she opened her mouth. Mami clamped a hand over both, earning her a fistful of spit and snot.
It wasn’t enough.
The men shouted and came toward them.
“Run!” Her mother sprang from the underbrush and shoved Munya in the opposite direction. She stumbled and looked back.
When I took this bounty, I didn’t think it would be this boring.
During the last five parties hosted by high-ranking officials in this region, rare items had disappeared. As if fading into thin air.
Zaivar stifled another yawn behind his hand.
The hypnotic dancing had almost lulled him to sleep more than once.
“Tell us a story, Gwandpa!”
The old man smiled at the two curly-haired kids, Adley and Bianca, on the floor in front of him, a pipe clasped between his fingers. “What kind of story do you want to hear?”
“Tell us another story
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Transfiguration Church’s Pasta Night was the same every year: an all-you-can-eat Italian buffet, two hundred parishioners cramming the American Legion Hall, old folks doing “YMCA,” and the 50-50 raffle.
My sister Cecily and I always spent every minute in the bar.
Not for the booze.
I pressed one finger to my lips and an ear to the office door. The lackey guide raised an eyebrow. Strained voices drifted from the room beyond.
Heroics always required genius, nerve, and timing.
“But we need the manpower to fight!” argued a female voice.
I had no problem leaving Spark Spaulding stuck in Albanue’s prison sewers. He was responsible for this mess, so I figured Spark could rely on advice he’d given before: “The worst prison is the one in your head.”
I didn’t count on his
Spark ran through the brush, desperately trying to escape the T-Rex crashing through the jungle behind him. At last, he broke into a clearing. The amulet that the old gypsy had given him provided the only control he had over the curse
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“Lord Paraguin.” My advisor hurried after me. “We must do something about the land Lord Egerton seized.”
I quickened my pace with a huff. Think! That was never my strong suit, but I was thrust into this role after barely reaching adulthood
So many promises. So little time.
I raced over the mossy ground.
We’re counting on you, Spark.
My sister, Quietus’s words rang through my mind like bells in the village square. She was right. No one else could do this. I just had to
Leaning against a tree trunk, I nibbled on a roll—all I could afford at the market square—and mulled over how to move on from this village. Cursed to keep journeying lest some disaster befall me—be it a broken bone or housefire
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“If anyone objects to this man and woman being joined in marriage, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” The pastor’s gaze landed on the groom, whose yellow ruffled tuxedo shirt peeked from beneath his emerald jacket. His hand shot in the air.
Spark Spaulding lowered his arm and caressed his fiancé’s
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