Happy Leprechaun Appreciation Day!

Okay!! Both contests are now closed and I will be tallying the entries, firing up the random number generator and announcing the winners early next week! Hang tight!

In the meantime, in honor of this Greenest of days, I'd like to share with you a wee (green man) snippet from DARKLIGHT - Book 2 in my WONDROUS STRANGE series, wherein Kelley Winslow describes an unpleasant encounter she had in Central Park to Bob, otherwise known as Puck.

Enjoy! 

“You killed a tree?”

“It tried to kill me first.”

“Perhaps you should tell me just what—exactly—happened to you, Princess.”

Kelley sighed gustily and gave Bob the ‘Cliff’s Notes’ version of her adventure in the park, while all around her Sonny’s fire sprites danced in her hair. The evening stars began to peep through the creeping dark and the trees in the woods gleamed with the reflected glow of the rising moon.

“This man who attacked you,” Bob said finally, once she was finished her tale. “describe him for me.”

“He was some whacked-out Faerie guy.” Kelley shuddered a bit, remembering how frightened she’d been, but tried not to sound that way in front of Bob. “I thought he was just a mugger that first night.”

“And both times he appeared you were just walking through the park?” Bob asked.

“Yes.”

“On the path?”

“Yes!”

“You didn’t kick over a toadstool in a Faerie Ring or step on a patch of bluebells or anything?”

“No, Bob. I left the park flora entirely unmolested.” Kelley laughed without humor. “Which is not to say that it returned the favor.”

“Hmm,” Bob grunted. “What did this ‘whacked-out Faerie guy’ look like?”

“Biker couture. Skinny, shaggy hair, jeans and tattoos... plus, y’know, the aggressively green thumb.”

“Vivification, yes,” Bob said. “Impressive. Especially on that kind of scale...”

“Vivi—?” Kelley blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Okay. Whatever.”

Bob’s pale green forehead furrowed faintly. “I don’t suppose your assailant was wearing exceptional quality footwear?”

“Yeah,” Kelley answered, startled. “Boots. Like motorcycle boots. Shiny black leather, silver buckles.”

“Seven silver buckles.”

“I didn’t exactly stop to count.”

Bob didn’t even crack a smile at her joke. “If you run into him again, I suggest you don’t.”

“What... was he?” Kelley asked, wavering between being intrigued and a little spooked. Bob, in her experience, didn’t exactly scare easy, but the ancient Fae’s expression had grown very dark, indeed.

“Leprechaun,” he said. “Bad one.”