I’d better get that blueberry pie. It’s the only reason I signed up for this ridiculous jousting tournament. Cielo di Spala loosened his hold on the horse’s reins and gripped his lance. A breeze fluttered the frayed, sky blue handkerchief tied around the pole. Alessia’s handkerchief. His ladylove sat in the front row,
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“What will you wear to Flower Fest, Trudy?”
Amelia, my best friend and fairy godmother, flew into the room so fast I sidestepped to keep her from crashing into me. She did that a lot. I had colorful bruises to prove it.
“What will I wear? Clothes. A dress since we still haven’t
“Ohmigod, there’s a tarantula in your grapes!” My chair legs screeched back from the table, and I dropped the grape I had just plucked from the fruit bowl.
“That’s just Ernie. Don’t worry; he won’t bite.” Granny glanced over from her spot at the stove where she’d been churning a bubbling concoction for
This baby’s got zip!” The salesman leaned against the bright green lawnmower, flashing me a brilliant smile. “Gringolet here will cut your mowing time in half, Sir Gawain. You’ll be the Green Thumb of Camelot.”
I’d just been promoted into the Green Thumbs—otherwise known as the Knights of the Front Lawn—
“For the last time, Mr. Hernandez,” I enunciate, poking savage holes in my lime-green blotter with my peacock pen, “you cannot land in Wittenberg, Germany on October 31, 1517.”
“Killjoy,” mutters the time traveler on the other end of the phone. “All I wanted to do was have a look around.”
The grass was up to Abigail’s chin now. If she didn’t find Ryn soon, it would consume the entire kingdom.
Abigail pushed her way through the verdant blades consuming her village. Couldn’t the boy have chosen a different enchantment? Something to do with rocks, perhaps? She could deal with pesky boulders.
Markus bounced on his heels as he waited in the line leading into the Cursed Gardens. Past the black metal fence, maze-like rows of statues rose in a cacophony of heroism and doom.
“Hey.” Markus tapped the shoulder of the hulking man in front of him. “You see that wyvern over there?
Wings aflutter, Elvinia races ahead of me down the crowded thoroughfare. I’m in no rush. Firstly, we’re both here. Secondly, I refuse to break my other wrist and make it a matching set.
It’s Valentine’s Eve, yet sprites of all kinds are already covered in crimson dust, leaving ruby sparkles
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A good neighborhood stakeout always starts with a comfy porch swing and my famous pound cake. Archie’s curled up on my lap, watching the street for any sign of Uncannies—or rabbits. Ever since he got into a scuffle with a bunny—and lost—he’s been on his guard.
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Reaching the top of the steep staircase, Bayard slowed his pace. The crescent moon couldn’t brighten the shadows of the final turn leading into the roost, but determination carried him through. He purposefully scuffed his feet and sent a rock clattering over the edge
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NOTICE OF SAFETY RECALL: DOMESTIC BOTS
According to our records, you recently purchased a domestic bot from The Gentrifix Corporation. A routine safety check revealed an anomaly in the bot’s code that makes it aggressive when exposed to the unique shade of Martian Red.
Contrary to recent, unsanctioned news reports
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When the sandstorm dissipated, it left behind only a scattered coating of golden grains on the threadbare furniture.
And a man.
Olive skinned and dressed in a smartly-tailored suit, he carried a worn leather briefcase. His shoes, which, given the circumstances, Susan had expected to turn up at the toes, were instead brightly
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