The Astral Wander Book 1: A New Light 

There is a fine line between bravery and stupidity. It is still unclear which one this young Magi has more of.

“Hey, mister, can I have seconds?” a boy shouted above the loud chatter of the Hearthfire Inn. It was barely morning, but many men and women crowded the tables and ate their fill at the start of their early day.

“Aye, boy,” the innkeeper nodded, took the empty plate with large, plump hands, and stroked his beard to the side. “As long as you got the cobalt for it, of course.” The child offered a bright smile, slid his hand to his belt and into his purse, and withdrew a small piece of a blue metallic material in the shape of a jagged line. With an arched eyebrow, the proprietor asked, “A whole splinter? You only need a few bits for one plate, my friend.”

His young patron nodded and placed it on the table. “Well, I might order more. Plus it’s my attempt at recompense after I kept your kids awake far later than intended.”

The man chuckled although the boy was fair and had the right of it. He had spent the previous evening regaling his children with tales of his old man, who was a captain of the guard in the capital city of Monleans. When the innkeeper had tried to shoo his brood away and stop them from disturbing the customer, the boy quickly defended his temporary playmates and continued, and his stories had eventually delayed the children’s bedtime by a good hour.

“You did keep my children entertained, for sure, if a little too long.” He placed the empty bowl on the bar and nodded to the chef, his chipper wife, through the window to the kitchen to let her know to prepare a second omelet and toast as he turned to the boy again. “You would think I had forced them to do hard labor with the way they whined getting out of bed this morning.” 

With a rather sheepish frown, the youngster pushed the splinter toward him. “Guess I did stretch it too long. Take it, please.”

A little hesitantly, the innkeeper picked it up and examined it. The inert piece of cobalt would be far more valuable if it was charged, but even a splint like this was far more than was necessary. His young patron would have to stay another day and enjoy a couple of large meals to come even close to the value held in his hand.  “Oh, not now,” he retorted with a smirk as he sat across from the youngster and put the splint on the table. “I should be thankful. If the truth be told, I haven’t seen my kiddies sit in one place for that long in many days. I was able to finish my list of chores for once instead of chasing them around.”

The boy shrugged and smiled again as he gestured at the splint. “Well, I’ll leave this here,” he stated quietly and took a sip of water from his white clay cup. “I should be thankful as, well…you’re the first innkeeper who welcomed me without a barrage of questions. I didn’t mind answering them, but they hardly made me feel welcome in an inn.” He pursed his lips to the side and looked up as a question seemed to form in his mind. “It seems counterproductive now that I think about it.”

“There’s an art to every job, my boy,” the man reasoned as he set his massive arm on the surface elbow-first and rested his chin on his palm. “Some people have the skills but not the knowledge, you know?”

“My mother says something similar,” the youngster responded and swirled the liquid in his cup. “She usually says, ‘There is a difference between doing something and doing it well, and only those smart enough will know the difference.”

“Smart woman,” the innkeeper declared with a loud laugh. He leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. “At the risk of sounding like one of those idiot innkeepers you’ve run into, I must admit I am curious as to how you came this way on your own—if you don’t mind me prying.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem.” The boy fumbled beside his chair and lifted a dark-brown satchel that he dug through quickly. He brought a map out—mostly white but some areas darker than others—that suggested both use and age. “I won’t bore you with all the details, but I’m heading to the bay town on the coast—Fairwind.”

“All the way from Monleans?” The man didn’t hide his understandable shock as that was almost three hundred miles away. “Whatever for, boy? You must have been making this trek for weeks!”

“Only about nine days, actually,” he said and unrolled the map on the table. “My father had business in Warpaw. I traveled there with him and left a couple of days after.” He traced his finger over the parchment to show his companion his route. “Went through Tuffles, then Leyoville, then Filo.” He pointed to the village he was now in—Bluebell. “Before I arrived here at your inn.”

“Truly now?” The innkeeper stroked his red beard. “Still, even starting in Warpaw, that’s some distance to travel on foot.”

“I got some rides from other travelers,” he explained and glanced at a candle on the side of the table. “But I’m also a fairly fast walker.” With a small smile, he pointed to the candle, pressed his thumb and middle finger together, and snapped them, and the wick lit itself.

“Ah, a little Magi, I see.” His companion nodded. “My eldest daughter and son have something of a knack for that, although the most they use it for is getting the brooms to clean things themselves and anything else they can do to get out of doing their chores.”

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Does that mean you practice the Mana arts too?”

A noise that was a mixture between a grunt and a light laugh from his large companion made the boy grin. “Hardly, and no more than the average man. I use some of my Mana to help with heavy lifting.” He stretched his already large arm and flexed. It increased slightly in size and a white light shimmered very briefly under the skin. “Nothing much more than that. They get it from their mother mainly. She doesn’t use it much herself but there is a reason she can run the kitchen almost on her lonesome. Many of the dishes take care of themselves.”

“So, you can use Vis, then?” A waitress arrived with his second breakfast. He thanked her quickly before he tucked into the meal with enthusiasm.

“Vis?” the Innkeeper asked before he nodded. “Right, that’s the term for Mana enhancement—less wordy, though. I can but barely. Me forgetting the word should tell you how little mind I pay to it.”

“It’s not a problem,” the boy assured him. “In all honesty, I only practiced it as much as I did thanks to my mother. Her mother used to teach at one of the academies and she taught me. And I can only use Mana in practical ways—the disciplines and all that. I can’t do many of the fancy stuff like cantrips. Lighting that candle is basically my only trick.”

“You didn’t go to the academy yourself?” the innkeeper asked.

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and shook his head. “No, my parents tutored me—well, my mother mostly. I learned a few things on my own as well.” He finished a piece of toast and leaned back “Thanks for the meal.”

The innkeeper looked down and his eyes almost bulged. The plate was clean, and he realized the youngster had eaten it all in a little over a minute. He could eat like a likan. 

“Hey, Devol!” a young voice called. The boy and innkeeper turned to see a young red-haired girl run toward them, followed by a boy with brown hair and another young girl with red hair. They dragged chairs closer and gathered around the table. “Hey, Devol, do you think you can play with us today? We’ll have our chores done by noon.”

Devol ran his hands through his long auburn hair. “Sorry, I’ll be gone by then.”

“Oh, boo.” The girl in the pink dress sighed and her father darted her a disapproving look.

“If I come back, we can play then, okay?” he promised, and although the children nodded, they still pouted to reveal their disappointment.

“You should probably get those chores finished instead of spending your time sulking,” their father said sternly. “Help your mother in the kitchen and tell her I’ll be there shortly.”

“Yes, Father,” the children replied in unison, stood quickly, and raced away. Devol waved at them as they left.

“You have spirited kids,” he noted as they disappeared behind a door that led to the kitchen.

“Aye.” The innkeeper nodded and rubbed the bridge of his nose before he smiled affectionately. “They can try my sanity sometimes but they fill my heart.”

Devol laughed and bumped the sword that leaned on his chair, which fell with a thud. He picked it up and placed it on the side of the table. The innkeeper studied it with open curiosity. It was sheathed in a scabbard of darkened leather but the hilt was silver and wrapped in a similar black leather binding. The handguard had a pointed tip, but only one way. In fact, despite its size and shape, it looked almost like it was half of a larger blade, even in the sheath.

“Boy, that sword…” he began, and the boy glanced at his weapon. “That’s a unique weapon you have there.”

“I know, right?” He grinned and gestured at it with his thumb. “It’s the reason I’m out here. It’s a magical sword.” 

“That so?” The man chuckled. “An exotic weapon? Those can be quite pricey.”

“I don’t think it’s an exotic,” the boy admitted. “Or at least not a typical one. It merely…appeared one day.”

“Merely appeared?” he asked and stroked his chin in thought. “I’ve heard of warriors getting runes on their exotics that allow them to teleport the blade to their hands. Is it something like that?”

“No. Up until about a month ago, I’d never seen it before.” The youngster shrugged and finished his drink. “I’m going to meet someone who can hopefully explain what it is.”

The proprietor nodded and peered at the map again. “I see. About that…” He placed his finger on the dot marking Bluebell. “From what I’ve seen of your current path, you’re not heading west, are you?”

Devol frowned a little in confusion and focused on the map. “Unless I read it wrong, that is the quickest path, right?”

“In distance, sure, but also to an early grave,” the innkeeper warned and folded his arms. “That leads to the Wailing Woods. As you can probably guess by the name, it’s not a great place to take a stroll through.”

“Huh.” The boy moved the map closer to the lit candle and studied it carefully. “You’d think they’d mention that here.”

“It’s more of a local name but one well earned.”

After a moment, Devol looked away and out one of the inn’s windows “I thought I saw a road in that direction.”

“It splits and heads down another path around the woods,” the innkeeper clarified. “They tried to make a road through it but the crew sent to chop it down only got part of the way in.”

“They get scared off by something?” the boy asked as he tapped his fork on his plate.

“Some did and got right the hell out,” his companion said with a grim nod “Others… Well, they didn’t make it out. The ‘wailing’ part of the name comes from those who have been lost within or left to die or be killed by the beasties there. There is something off about those woods and the beasties are a big threat—snakes, giant rodents, flesh-eating insects, and even flayers. Some people have claimed even imps and likan roam the forest. Can’t say I’ve seen them myself, but if it were true, this village sure as hell isn’t far enough away from it.”

The boy pursed his lips, leaned back, and tapped his chin in thought. “I should probably buy a torch before setting off, then.”

The innkeeper’s stern face melted into one of bafflement. “Do what now, boy?”

“Hmm?” He looked up. “A torch. Most of what you have described are creatures that live in darkened areas. It must mean that the forest is dark enough for them to be there so it would probably be wise for me to take a torch.”

The innkeeper wanted to holler in the boy’s face that he simply didn’t understand, that if he wanted to be ‘wise,’ he wouldn’t go there at all. But his skepticism made him stutter his words before one of his daughters ran to him and tugged his shirt. “Daddy, Mommy says we have more customers and you need to get back to working the bar and main parlor.”

“Huh? Uh…sure, darling. Tell her I’ll get right on it.” He stood, slid his chair in, and turned to point at his young patron. “Stay right there. I need to tend to something before I come back and smack some sense into you, boy.”

Devol cocked an eyebrow. “Why would I wait for that?”

The innkeeper shook his head as he went to tend to his new customers. The youngster pushed to his feet and waved goodbye. “Thank you for the hospitality, Mr. Bernard!” He smiled with his silver eyes wide, sat again, and adjusted his blue-and-white jacket and black slacks. After a moment, he decided to close the coat over a white shirt.

Bernard sighed. He should probably have smacked the auburn-haired boy to put an end to his craziness before he left him. A little anxious, he hurried to finish his tasks as quickly as he could lest the hospitality go to waste when the boy got himself killed.

***

Bernard took the last orders hastily and passed them to his wife. That done, he told his kids to clean the tables of the guests who had finished eating while he took a map off a shelf near the bar, found a pen, and marked it to show a clear path around the woods. Maybe this would help to persuade the boy to not venture through that accursed place. If he needed more convincing…well, he had said he would smack some sense into him and only slightly in jest.

When he came out from behind the bar and entered the side room where the youngster had been seated, however, his place was empty. On the table lay a note and the cobalt splinter. The man looked at the hastily written letter with a scowl.

Mr. Bernard,

Thank you again for the room and food. Sorry I could not say goodbye to you and your wife and children, but if this forest is as bad as you say, I probably want to make the journey through it with as much sunlight as possible. Please keep the splinter for being so nice to me. Hope to see you again if I come through.

Devol Alouest

The innkeeper ran a hand down his face and released a deep sigh. He wondered if he should go and look for the boy before he got too far. If something befell him, even if it were as a result of his stupidity, he would feel terrible. But a part of him was sure that he would hightail it back to town once he saw the woods. No sane person would see even the forest line and think it safe in any way. 

He collected a few coins from nearby tables and decided he would give them to the kids. They had earned a little extra and he would tell them it was from Devol. It would at least help them to remember him fondly when the boy returned that night—and he was sure he would have a much more exciting story to tell about the woods when he did.

___________

The obvious solution to dark wood creatures is just a little light, I suppose Devol has a point there. To see what happens next for Devol Pre-order The Astral Wanderer: A New Light today. Be ready because first thing April 2, 2021, this book will be available to all.

The Astral Wanderer Book 1: A New Light

In a moment of desperation, he is able to access his true powers. What does this mean for young Devol’s future?

“Devol!” Lilli Alouest called and her white dress flowed behind her as she hurried down the carved stone steps two at a time. “Devol, what did I say about running off?” 

She reached the well-maintained path of stones and dirt that ran through Emerald Forest—the wooded area outside the kingdom of Monleans—from one side to the other. 

The mother’s gaze darted warily from left to right and she dragged in a nervous breath as she reminded herself of the old wives’ tale. As long as you stay along the path, you are safe. 

The Emerald Forest was not home to an abundance of carnivorous creatures, but it was not unusual to encounter animals there now and then, and some of those could be quite fearsome.

“Mother, come and have a look at this!” Her head jerked to the right as a boy’s voice carried between the limbs and through the brush to her ears. “I’ve found an oasis.”

She blew a sharp breath of relief and a little of her tension released. “Those aren’t found in a forest, Devol,” she stated and allowed herself a small giggle, her humor somewhat restored by the fact that she could at least hear her son. 

Curious as to what held his attention so completely that he didn’t run to her as he usually did, she followed the direction of his voice and stepped off the path. Ignoring her nervousness, she pushed through the shimmering green leaves that gave the forest its name and into its depths. Finally, she found him walking around a large pond while he stared at his reflection in the glittering waters.

“You think this is on the map?” he asked, retrieved a scroll, and opened it. “We could be the first to mark it.” His eyes narrowed before he flipped it right-side up.

“I’m fairly sure this is Franco’s Pond, Devol,” his mother answered and rested a hand on his shoulder. “You know, one of the original explorers of the forest?”

The young boy’s gaze darted around the map until he tapped the location with a finger and sighed. “Yeah, I see.” He rolled the scroll again and placed it in his back pocket. With a disappointed expression, he looked around at the trees surrounding the pond. “I suppose it is too close to the road for it to be undiscovered.”

“I’m not sure there are many places here that haven’t been explored by now,” she agreed as she glanced at three azure-colored birds that soared skyward. “This forest has stood alongside the city since its founding. Many explorers and hunters have come through here for over a thousand years.”

Devol sighed, removed his jacket, and dropped it beside him as he crossed his legs and sat beside the water. “That’s true,” he said as he eased his arms back and leaned on his hands. “Guess I’ll have to wait a little longer before I can think about finding anything new, huh?”

“Well,” Lilli responded, “this is new to you, isn’t it?” She laughed, hoping to comfort him with a fresh way to look at the experience. “You did not know some of the details I told you so in a way, you are making discoveries.”

He shrugged and grinned wistfully as he stretched on his back on the forest floor with his hands behind his head. “You are technically right, Mother. But you know what I am talking about, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” she replied and moved a small rock out of the way with her foot before she lowered herself to sit beside him. “And that day will come for you, Devol. I know you wish for adventure and despite my requests to your father for him to not hurry your training along so much, you will be more than ready when you apply for the guards.”

The boy’s smile widened. “I’m already better at swordplay than almost any recruit. I’ll probably rank highly during the entrance trials and get to skip the beginner training and start with more advanced swordsmanship.” He looked at his mother. “Father says the survey team could always use more members. I think I may join them when the time comes.”

His mother looked at him with a smile to hide the trace of sadness stirred by the thought of him leaving. “If that is your choice. But that is a couple of years away.” She stroked his auburn hair as she focused on their reflections in the water. “And until then, try to enjoy yourself as much as you can, all right?”

“Of course, Mother.” Devol closed his eyes. “But you don’t need to be anxious about anything. Your son will be one of the best swordsmen in the kingdom. You shouldn’t worry about anything bad happening as long as—”

He was interrupted by the panicked cries of birds and deer behind them. His mother looked over her shoulder and he casually did the same. Animals fled in various directions as something approached them. “What is that?” he asked as a large, dark shape slunk forward.

Lilli turned pale. “Devol, we need to go,” she ordered, scrambled to her feet, and yanked the boy up. “Now!”

The shadow launched forward with a ferocious howl and covered an unbelievable distance in one stride. It landed several yards from them and they gaped in horror at a large wolf with deep black fur and large fangs. The beast’s gaze seemed to burrow into theirs with a blank, feral white stare.

“A dire wolf?” Devol gasped and reached for the short sword on his belt. “In the Emerald Forest?”

“Devol!” Lilli whispered, her tone quiet but urgent. “Get behind me.”

By the time the boy glanced at her, he had already drawn his sword. The beast snarled and snapped its teeth together ravenously before it growled and lunged at him. She ran between it and her son and held a hand up.

“Shield!” She shouted the cantrip command and a yellow light sparked from her hand, flared into purple light directly ahead of her, and created the shape of a circular shield made of Mana, the magical energy of the realm. The dire wolf powered into it and hurled her back into her son, and both fell awkwardly.

She pushed quickly to her feet and pointed at the wolf. “Missile!” Three orbs of yellow light streaked away from her and all curved around the wolf. The animal began to run back to evade the attack before it darted quickly to the side. Two of the magical projectiles careened into the base of trees and left large indentations.

The beast skidded to a halt, turned to face the last missile, and ducked quickly as the orb sailed overhead and into the pond where it erupted. Water sprayed in a vertical column, reached an impressive height, and rained on the mother, son, and wolf.

“It is fast,” she noted and prepared another spell. “And intelligent.”

A vicious snarl preceded a loud, ear-piercing howl. The humans covered their ears involuntarily to shield them against the painful noise. The wolf surged toward the mother, whose eyes widened as it attacked.

The onslaught flung her on the forest floor with a painful thud as her attacker uttered another cry, this one of surprise. She looked hastily at her son, who scrambled quickly to his feet and held his blade up, which was now smeared with a splash of blood. She promptly checked him for wounds but found none. The wolf, however, had a long gash along its left side.

“It’s all right, Mother,” he assured her, and although he did look slightly rattled, he wore a confident smirk. “What use is all that boasting if I cannot back it up?” 

Lilli knew his confidence was misplaced. The wolf had been feral and hungry before and his strike had now made it angry as well. Dire wolves were known for their ferocity. Even if they now managed to escape, it would pursue them like the relentless hunter it was until it was able to tear them apart.

As it took a few steps closer to the boy, Devol raised his blade to defend himself. Lilli stood hastily and held a hand out. “Flash!”

A bright sphere of white light formed in her hand before it exploded and covered the area around them in a blinding light. The beast snarled as Devol shielded his eyes. She ran to him, caught his arm, and dragged him away.

They sprinted through the dense growth and onto the path and quickly ascended the stone steps that led to the edge of the greenery. She knew they wouldn’t make it before the dire wolf caught up, however, and her mind raced. They would need to find the forest rangers to help them fell the beast.

Her heart sank when she realized they wouldn’t have the chance for even that. Massive paws thudded on the forest floor behind them. Lilli looked over her shoulder and gasped.

The animal was already in pursuit. Its eyes still blinked rapidly, likely from the blaze of light, and it must have followed them using smell and sound. It was only a short distance away from them now, and from the jump she had seen it make earlier, it was an easy distance to cover.

She released her son and shoved him forward into a run as she spun and shouted the incantation to summon another shield. Before it could fully form, the wolf swiped a large, clawed paw at her. The incomplete shield protected her from the attack but was destroyed and released a small blast of Magic that knocked her off her feet but barely disturbed the beast’s fur.

“Mother!” Devol shouted and raced back as the wolf attempted a killing strike. He vaulted high and swung his sword, to slice cleanly into the dire wolf’s face and blind one of its eyes.

It uttered another angry, pained howl and lashed wildly at her with its claws. The boy attempted to pull his mother away but a warning from her made him turn and he attempted to parry or block the uncoordinated strikes from his adversary.

His short sword was eventually knocked out of his hands, and it spun blade over hilt, deep into the forest. The next attack hurled him away and lacerated his chest. Unable to slow his momentum, he collided painfully with a tree.

“Devol!” Lilli shrieked as the wolf regained at least some of its senses. Its front paws thumped into the dirt and it hovered over her. One eye stared relentlessly at her while the other dripped blood from its wound.

The boy forced himself up when he realized their attacker was about to kill his mother. He felt a fear he never had before—that he was about to see the death of a loved one. Desperate, he ran forward and extended his hand with no plan of what to do. He might have been a Magi like his mother and father, but he was a swordsman and not particularly gifted in cantrips like she was. His blade was now lost in the forest and he had no time to search for it. He did not know what he would do, only that he would not let her die.

The dire wolf turned toward him and opened its jaws to bare its fangs. Saliva dripped to the dirt in anticipation of a kill. Lilli’s cry registered vaguely but he could not hear the words. Instead, he lunged forward to attack the beast with whatever he had left.

As the animal left his mother and turned to meet his feeble assault, another blinding flash gave both adversaries pause. Was it his mother’s cantrip again? He could see, even with the bright light, and frowned when he realized it had come from his hand. Something solid settled in his palm—the hilt of a weapon, as impossible as it seemed—and he grasped it instinctively in both hands.

Without looking to see what he held, he arced it to deliver as powerful a blow as he could. The beast was in the middle of its lunge and unable to break away. Devol slid along the dirt, breathing heavily, and grimaced when he felt something warm along his neck, hands, and face. Blood? He felt no pain, though, so he checked himself quickly and looked at his hand. It was indeed blood, but it appeared to not be his. 

The dire wolf sprawled in a crumpled heap a few yards away, the front half of its body cut in half. His eyes widened as he checked his other hand, which still clutched the weapon that had appeared so suddenly. 

Not unsurprisingly, it proved to be a long, ornate sword, but he could not discern the details as it glowed far too brightly. This was no ordinary blade, he could tell that much, but the way it looked, encased in the celestial light, he couldn’t make out the finer features. Still, it felt right in his hand and although it seemed strange, it filled him with a sense of warmth and comfort. 

Devol snapped to his senses and glanced at his mother to check on her. He wondered if he wore a similar shocked expression as she did when she looked at the blade and then at him. Something appeared in her eyes—a similar look of concern bordering on sorrow to the one she’d had when he had discussed his future.

She stood with a grimace, walked closer, and hugged him before she drew back and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Thank you, Devol,” she said and looked at the blade. “We will…need to talk to your father about what is to come.”

___________

I was nervous there for a minute, that could have ended badly. I was surprised by Lilli’s reaction. One might think she was happy to see he saved them both with a magic sword. Check back soon to catch the next snippet of  The Astral Wander: A New Light. Available for pre-order today and available to all readers on April 2, 2021.

The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 1: The Unexplainable Fairy Godmother

Fairy tail love stories aren’t what they use to be, what the fairy godmothers need is a magical criminal who hates love.

If love was what made the Earth go ’round, then it was about to freeze on its axis. Few people knew the repercussions of love being created or, more importantly, of love being lost. 

A fairy godmother knew. It was her job to ensure matches were made and love achieved. The problem was fairy godmothers weren’t what they used to be, and it was creating a domino effect across the globe. 

Marylou Goodwin stood behind a concrete pillar in the London Underground. She wore a long blue gown with a hood over her gray curls to keep the cold chill off her shoulders and head. She wore it like that for practical reasons but also to keep her cover. It was always better if fairy godmothers weren’t spotted by those they were spelling. 

The old fairy godmother had been patiently waiting for her “Cinderella” to arrive on the platform. Hopefully, the woman, a Miss Amelia Rose, would show soon, or the timing of matching with her Prince Charming would be off. Also, Marylou’s feet were throbbing from standing for so long. She wasn’t as young as she used to be, and she felt her age more with every case. 

“I’m getting too old for this,” she muttered under her breath, willing the blood in her feet to circulate as she toggled her weight between them. 

The truth was that Marylou had been old when she became a fairy godmother. Most were, and after a few centuries of matchmaking, this tired fairy godmother was out of stamina. There were bigger issues as well, and they were about to become very apparent for the rest of the world. 

“Oh, about time,” Marylou said as she caught sight of Amelia Rose striding down the walkway to where her train would be stopping in five minutes. 

The Cinderella was on her cellphone chatting with Bryce Tyler, the man who had been pining for her affection since they graduated from college last year. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a braid, and she had only a small bit of makeup adorning her face. 

Amelia forced a smile, which on her elegantly beautiful face still lit up her large brown eyes even though it was absent of any joy. Her words were barely audible over the clacking of her smart high heels and the rush of the other trains on neighboring platforms. 

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you soon,” she replied to the guy on the other side of the line after a pause. The smile on her pink lips disappeared. “I miss you too.” 

She didn’t. Marylou knew that much. Bryce Tyler’s mother missed him. The friend he’d had since preschool missed him. His sister who worried he’d never get married missed him. But Amelia Rose had never missed the redheaded financial advisor, even though she appreciated his friendship. 

Lasting relationships were built on friendship, but more importantly, they started with a spark. Those relationships that made the world go around, anyway. 

Amelia Rose ended the call. Her lack of enthusiasm over Bryce Tyler was heavy on her face as she passed a well-dressed man standing on the platform, his attention on his own mobile device. 

Marylou twirled her finger around and pointed at the two from her hiding place behind the pillar. 

A handkerchief slipped from the back of Amelia Rose’s purse and gracefully floated to the concrete, where it landed close to the man—Mr. Grayson McGregor. 

The old “drop the handkerchief” technique was tried and true, and Marylou had used it for centuries to get the attention of a Prince Charming for one of her Cinderellas.

To the fairy godmother’s surprise, Grayson McGregor didn’t notice the handkerchief. Marylou sighed. She hoped this wasn’t going to be as difficult as the last case. She poked her wrinkled, bony finger in the air and stirred the embroidered handkerchief around the legs of his slacks. 

That got his attention. Grayson glared down and picked up Amelia’s possession. He was eyeing the initials when Amelia spun and spied him with her handkerchief. 

“Excuse me.” She strode back in his direction and reached for the linen square. “That’s mine.” 

He brought his blue eyes up and smiled playfully pulling the handkerchief out of her reach. “Can you prove it? What are your initials?” 

She sighed and looked for the train. She’d be late for work if it didn’t get here soon. One more time and she’d get fired. “They’re A.R.” 

He shook his head. “These are B.T.” 

She frowned. “Those are my boyfrie—friend’s initials.” 

“Well, is he a friend or a boyfriend?” Grayson still held the cloth, a flirtatious expression dancing in his eyes. 

Amelia narrowed her gaze at the stranger—her one true Prince Charming. 

Marylou let out a frustrated breath. This wasn’t going well…again. She wisped her finger in a small gesture and made a gust of wind take the handkerchief from Grayson’s fingers and send it down the platform. 

Amelia regarded him incredulously when he simply watched it fly away. 

“Well,” she said in a demanding tone. “Are you going to get that for me?”

He glanced in the direction of the handkerchief flying down the Underground, their train speeding in their direction. “Sorry, but my train is coming, and I can’t be late.” 

Amelia’s mouth popped open. “But you lost it.” 

“I did not!” he argued at once. 

“I’m wearing heels.” She pointed at the red heels that matched her striped skirt and blouse. 

“Well, I don’t know why your impractical decisions have to affect me,” he countered, anger flaring on his face. 

She balled up her fists, her face growing as red as her shoes. 

Grayson rolled his eyes. “Oh, fine. But I better not miss my train.” He sped off, racing after the square of cloth flying on the wind directed by Marylou. By the time he’d recovered the handkerchief, the train had come and gone, but Amelia had stayed, growing more furious by the second. She couldn’t lose Bryce’s handkerchief. It meant something to him. However, now she was late. 

Marylou knew that if the two shared a taxi, they would feel the spark, and the rest would be history. 

Grayson threw up his chin, the handkerchief crushed in his hand. “Seriously? I missed the train! Not today.” 

Amelia held out her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m probably fired now.” 

He cut his eyes at her hand and then her face. “Well, my apologies. Maybe I can offer you a job at my company, McGregor Technologies.” 

She blinked at him. “McGregor Technologies? That company turned me down for a position last year when I graduated from college.” 

He was supposed to offer her a job, and she would accept, and they’d work together and fall in love. From the angry expression on both their faces, romance was not budding between them—the exact opposite. There was a fine line between the two.

He shrugged. “We like our candidates to have experience.” 

“I have experience!” she argued. “Plus, I’m a quick learner.” 

“But you’re not quick on your feet,” he pointed out between breaths, taxed after the run to get Amelia’s handkerchief. 

She yanked it from his hand. “Do you always insult people whose stuff you take?” 

He grinned at her. “I didn’t take it. You dropped it. So you make poor clothing choices, can’t run after your own things, and you lose stuff. Never mind the job offer.” 

Amelia’s mouth formed a hard line. “What is your name?” 

He lifted his chin proudly. “Grayson McGregor.” 

She nodded. “Grayson, consider yourself warned. Your company is utter rubbish to me.” 

The guy laughed, his teeth perfectly straight on the top and cutely crooked on the bottom. He was very handsome, with his short brown hair and boyish dimples. “And who will I have the pleasure of attributing my downfall to? If it happens.” 

She started down the platform, her heels clicking against the concrete. After a few steps, she whipped around and narrowed her eyes at him. “Amelia Rose. One day you’ll hear my name and know I’m the one who undercut your prices, stole all your customers, and sank McGregor Technologies.” 

“I cannot wait, Amelia Rose. Bring it on.” 

The two stormed in opposite directions, each raving mad. 

Marylou groaned and leaned against the pillar. The thing about a spark was it had the potential to ignite a brilliant love affair or to burn the bridges between two lovers. It was a delicate balance, one a fairy godmother was supposed to be good at keeping. It appeared, yet again, that Marylou Goodwin had failed. She knew the repercussions of Amelia and Grayson not falling in love would have far-reaching effects and would undoubtedly hurt the world at large.

______

They are right about the fine line between love and hate. Without love what will happen to the world, will the balance tip in the opposite direction? Find out March 19, 2021 when The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 1: The Unexplainable Fairy Godmother is released, or head over and pre-order it today!