She’d heard of a ship in a bottle.
But a ship caught in a storm and trapped in a bottle—that one was new.
Sitting at the counter, Deidra studied the strange bottle—more of a jar, really—and the little storm thundering and pouring down rain above it. Frantic men the size of ants
“All right, Sire, the Kosimas will handle the ceremony. However, the treasury needs approval for banquet expenditures.”
Falton stared at fluttering drapes. Window’s closed though. Gelaid was literally driving him mad.
“Sire, the royal magistrate wants to discuss writs of authority, the speechwriter needs to meet. After that… Sire?
Falton fell face first on his bed.
By Rae Graham The sun blazed with the intensity only a summer drought can muster, but no matter how hard it tried, it couldn’t melt Jasper’s ice. The beautiful aqua strands wove out from his palm in a glittering dance—one that drew delighted squeals from the children on the other side of the window. Jasper’s
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“Susannah Carey, did you hear a word I said?” Miss Jessup rapped a cane on her cabin’s floor. “Pay attention!”
A glowing coal skidded out of my tongs, landing back in the fireplace. Sparks flew, hot as my cheeks. Truth is, I hadn’t been listening. I was hurrying too much.
Hey, Dragonbreath. Camping this weekend. U in?
A wisp of smoke accompanied my snort as I stuck my phone back in my pocket. Camping. The only social event I’d been invited to in years. Not that I could blame them after my laugh fried Craig’s gaming system at fourteen.
The garden party was the event of the year as Rainbow City’s elite celebrated the christening of Henry and Cinderella Charming’s newborn daughter. Princess Ashlyn slept peacefully in a gilded bassinet as guests dined on delicacies and spoke of meaningless things.
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The rebels had promised a quick, painless Revolution: Down with the king, up with the men living in nothing but dust.
Liars, all of them, Sabelle thought, grimacing. The rebels’ notion of freedom excluded anyone connected to the nobility, no matter how far-removed the relation.
“Why do I always get myself dragged into these things?” Skeer picked another cricket out of his hair. “What were you, cable-knit cardigan or itchy turtleneck?”
The cricket didn’t answer, of course. It jumped out of his hand to join the scores of others crawling about in the dandelions.
I grounded my teeth as I laid in bed, trying to nap. “Infernal noise.” I considered searching for my staff to bang on the ceiling, but the bandages over my eyes made that difficult. For three days, my upstairs neighbors at the inn and tavern had been making more noise than a banshee in labor.
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The jungle island loomed ahead, a silhouette against the rising sun. I hurtled across the tips of the waves in my best tuxedo. Six of the most accomplished and highly trained Navy SEALs to ever swim for Uncle Sam followed close behind.
We made for a cave hidden at the back of a narrow cove,
I found him by accident as I stumbled through the forest, cloaked in shadows.
The child was crouched in a patch of light, bare feet dusty against the packed earth. He was feeding the crows. They hopped about him, nipping at his clothing, brushing his face with their wings. He laughed.
Heat tickled in Ivraeldu’s veins. Rage swam in his heart. A passion to set their world aflame.
Cold air brushed his eyes as his wings sailed the wind. A sea of stars twinkled against the infinite night sky. Below, acres of farmland stretched between snow-capped mountains and a glassy river.
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