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Winged Tales: Bite-Sized Stories, #2
Winged Tales: Bite-Sized Stories, #2
Winged Tales: Bite-Sized Stories, #2
Ebook51 pages39 minutes

Winged Tales: Bite-Sized Stories, #2

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Chased by a slobbering beast, a pair of young dragons defies the odds to escape. They use wings, technically too immature to carry them, to find safety out of the beast's reach, but they aren't the only thing to take off in this collection of short stories. 

Among others, a woman, who forgot to stay dead, has to flee from her former team while suppressing the primitive urges, brought on by her new state of being, and a man realizes that fairies ask very steep prizes for their favors.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherElysae Shar
Release dateMay 24, 2016
ISBN9781533720658
Winged Tales: Bite-Sized Stories, #2
Author

Elysae Shar

Born in a small town with little to occupy her time, Elysae Shar developed a love for both books and video games. By the age of eight, that love had become a desire to write. Almost twenty years later, after many false starts Elyse Shar's childhood dream became reality with the publication of John & Other Stories.  Though in and of itself a bad experience, this was mostly thanks to her suffering a stroke at the age of twenty-one and retaining permanent damage. With time for writing now abundant, it still took a further few years until she passed the final hurdle.

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    Book preview

    Winged Tales - Elysae Shar

    The Heart of the Matter

    This way. Valentine beckoned his targ-customers through the heavy curtain into a steam-filled room. Careful not to inhale too much of the incense, he kept his own breathing shallow. He'd created the mixture himself. Just enough Lavender, dissolved in water, to lull these fools into a sense of security and loosen their wallets, but not so much as to leave them full of regrets the day after. It never failed.

    Rich women, with their odd hats, and rich men, with excessive facial hair, ah'd and oh'd while Valentine relieved them of their sometimes not-so-hard-earned money. Perfectly legal—he'd checked-—and most came back, too. Ridiculous...

    Tonight, he said, voice amplified and made to sound by the tiny microphone, tugged into the folds of his collar. I offer you the chance to make contact with your deceased before they move out of our realm for good. 

    He had them; just one line and he had them. Faces filled with both longing and curiosity followed Valentine as he made his way to the head of the head of the oblong table. Once there, he caught and held each of his seven customers' eyes in turn.

    Any requests? he asked, arching a finely coiffed brow as if issuing a challenge. Don't you dare.

    A hunched over woman, with skin so shriveled, she could have passed for a raisin raised her hand . My husband, she said, her voice rough—damaged by too much time spent in rooms like this one, no doubt. He di-.

    My great grandfather! Another yelled over her, and that set the rest off, too.

    My dog!

    The old lady down the road!

    Valentine groaned internally. None of his presets would work for these. Oh, how he hated when the idiots made him actually do his job. Unlike most mediums these days, Valentine wasn't a fraud. He just couldn't stand the slimy feel of the Otherrealm, or spirit world, as the dirty masses could it—the stains it left on his mind. 

    Time to put a stop to this before he lost control of yet another group.

    He put on his best fake smile, then raised both hands, palms facing the customers. Please, I must ask you to calm down. There is plenty of time for everyone to get a turn As long as you have the money for it.

    Nothing changed. People even started to shout out second and third requests.

    Valentine pinched the bridge of his nose while his other hand drifted to the button hidden under the table. He was going to have to press it and call in security. Oh, how he hated this part. Glass shattered, leaving expensive wine to seep into an equally as expensive carpet. There went today's pay, along with a good chunk of yesterday's.

    Assign numbers next time, he told himself. After going through the hassle of finding yet another new establishment to house him, of course. There couldn't be that many left, he hadn't wrecked yet.

    A tug on his coattail brought Valentine back to the issue at hand. He looked down into the dimpled face of a boy, on the verge of losing that wide-eyed innocence, so many labeled cute. Worst night ever. Valentine sighed, but the child clutched

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