“Here’s the tracks the thief left, Frank.” Fairyland Hardware’s proprietor Marvin pointed to a muddy patch of ground behind the store.
I ambled over to look. Word about my crime-solving prowess had gotten around. These days, Frank’s Detective Agency was the first stop for most Fairyland folk when they had a mystery to unravel, and that worked for me.
My glasses fog, smearing the police tape into a fluttering yellow ribbon against the forest. Sunlight cuts across my cheek, but it can’t shake the chill under my skin. I’m shivering as Andersen finishes the report.
“The kids disappeared, just like…” He glances at me, concern thick as molasses.
I sip my latte.
Having sent her stepdaughter Jo Bright on a goodwill tour of the far realms, Queen Regality consulted her hand mirror again. “With Jo gone, I’m now the fairest in the land, right?” The mirror replied: “Not to embarrass you, but alas! Queen, those fairer would fill my glass.” After briefly considering tours for all those women too…
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I was about to flip the sign on the front door of my office from “Closed” to “Open” when I spotted a bulky black form on the sidewalk. My heart jumped.
Then I recognized my visitor and smiled.
“Papa Bear! You caught me by surprise.” I swung the door open. “Come in.”
I assume you’ve heard of the princess and the frog: a darling meet-cute about a prince transformed into a frog by an evil witch, and the princess who saved him with a kiss. Such a romantic story—and a complete lie.
While a witch was involved, she wasn’t evil. Galavia had been hired…
Ever since the big bad wolf blew down my house of sticks, I’ve lived in my brother Bob’s brick bungalow. I operate my detective business, solving Fairyland’s strange and varied crimes, out of an office in the back wing.
Like many such operations, Frank’s Detective Agency has had its ups and downs.
My New Year’s resolution this January is the result of my last online hookup. It happened like this.
“So after my dad died, my stepmom started a housecleaning business with her daughters and me. I do vents and fireplaces because I’m good with cinders.” Ella smiled at me from the other side…
I’m sure as a child you heard one of the many versions of “Little Red Riding Hood” that circulate the globe. While most of them do introduce three true characters in that event—a girl cloaked in red, a nefarious wolf, and a sick grandmother—none of the tales you’ve heard include me.
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The harsh lights in the interrogation room stung my eyes as Detective Ironflutter smacked her police-issued wand against her palm and fluttered her wings to loom over me. “C’mon, Ivory. Just tell us where the fairy godmother’s wand is.”
I leaned back but forced my eyes to meet hers.
It was the day before Elle’s ball, and I was desperate. So I traveled with all haste to my cousin’s shoppe, Fiona’s Fabulous Footwear.
I know, I know. I’m Elle’s fairy godmother. I should have known how to make some simple slippers. But while I can create the most ornate carriages
The stench of death assaults my nose as the abyss yawns before me. I breathe in the stagnant draft as a slippery carpet sweeps me off my feet. Ivory spikes rise from above and below. They curve inward, directing me to the pit and reminding me that this journey might be my last.
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Waking to a kiss sounds romantic. I mean, I had no problem with the kiss itself—soft lips, tickle of a mustache, faint licorice flavor. But oh my goodness people, what was a man doing in my bedroom?!
I sat bolt upright. My forehead smacked against his.
Ouch.
He staggered back from
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