The sauropod swung her head on its immensely long neck from side to side, careful to keep her young in sight. Two of her hatchlings were feeding on new leaves and tender shoots, but the youngest was forging his way through the bushes surrounding their family. She took a step toward himRead it now
Nan and I were at the hives when the stranger stopped by. “Elias Carver, your new neighbor.” He tipped his hat and nodded toward the gray house on the hill. “Belonged to my late uncle. We weren’t close. I only got word a few months ago the old place’s been empty for years. Now I’m here to settle down.”Read it now
A time drone exited the Cretaceous forest and rose to a cruising height of fifty meters, flying toward a herd of hadrosaurs. Some of the dinosaurs slurped water from a river splashing over a series of rocks, while others munched on fresh-scented, juicy ferns. All soaked up the summer sunshine.Read it now
Closing time at Knox’s Pawnshop—normally a routine matter of Herbert Knox securing that day’s profits and locking the entrance to his establishment—differed this particular evening in two respects. The new clerk, Nigel, ended his first day by sweeping the floor. And a growling, man-shaped beast began his first night as a werewolfRead it now
“You want me to make you a unicorn.” I tugged at my tie, which was suddenly feeling much too tight.
“Wrong, twice over, Dr. Delany,” said the Premier. “Didn’t you read my message? Earth’s Council doesn’t want a unicorn, the Craldirish do. And they don’t want one; they want a breeding pair
Yesterday, Albert Cook offered me a ride home from school. Thanking him, I scrambled into his Pa’s wagon. We talked of that day’s ball game and spelling bee.
Finally, he asked, “Ever see a ghost around your place, Pete?”
I shook my head. “Nope. My grandfolks died there last month, but they’re lying
Despite the engineers’ best efforts, time drones have a loud buzz. So when Hanover’s time drone popped in early one sunny Cretaceous morning, it was noticed immediately.
Not by the dinosaurs the drone’s owners sought, who were not in the area, nor the flies swarming a chunk of rotting fruit on a tree branch
Doug’s phone slipped from his hand and skidded down the hillside below the hiking trail. He sucked in his breath with annoyance. “Screen’s probably cracked.” It had all his contact info on it, too.
Now how am I going to get it back? Can’t make it down there myself, not with my hip
The white door swung open before I could knock. Agent Hutchinson waved me in. “Welcome to the team, Ms. Dying Words Detective.”
“That’s Detective Fernanda Alves.” I weaved my way through the dozen other agents squeezed into the commandeered construction trailer near the zoo’s entrance. “Let me see the footage.”
I wasn’t talking
Waves sloshed below the old man as he sat at the pier’s edge, waiting. A face emerged from the sea, her hair as white as the foam on the wave crests.
“It is good to see you, Mr. Crispin. You have the boot?”
Puzzled as he always was during these exchanges, Crispin held it out.
It takes a special kind of stupid to ride a dragon drunk.
Or maybe I rode a drunk dragon. The details are fuzzy. Many things are fuzzy right now, starting with where I am and how far I fell before I landed.
I open my eyes. Currently, they’re the only parts of my body that don’t hurt.
Trouble started with Miss Herbert’s sixth card.
I do ESP screening, so I’m used to trouble. Psychics are among the few making a decent living in the Depression, which is why people get plenty sore when I tell them they’ve flunked the test. Curses, threats. I’ve dodged punches. Guess I can’t blame them much