Hubba Hubba Versus the Stinky Beefy Boy, Part 2

The stinky beefy boy slowed to a walk with a skip and happily patted his game bag full of Hubba Hubba. Whistling a giddy tune fit for the tone deaf, he left the path through a gap in the hedge to cut across a freshly ploughed field. Chirp and Squeak followed ’round the outside in the tops of trees grown up in the hedge. The boy scampered through new oats, a meadow and a fresh cow pile, pausing to rinse his feet in a gurgling creek before dashing triumphantly across an orchard to a fiery haired woman and two boys, hoeing in a broad vegetable garden.

“Mom!” hollered the stinky boy as she bent to pull a weed. “Get wood on the fire! I bagged fresh meat for supper!”

She stood up, brushing the dirt from her skirts and hands.

“Look Mom! I got him with my sling! I knocked ‘im clean out of the air! I’m gettin’ good, aye?”

“I’ll say Frankin,” she said, peering into his bag. “I’ve been watching you get better day by day. This is game to remember, all right, particularly when you may go the rest of your life and not get another on the wing like that.”

“So all you think is I just got lucky, isn’t hit?”

“Well Frankin, someone without your sharp eye would certainly have an empty bag right now…”

“Ha!” he crowed with a leap. “I’m really somethin’ with my sling, and you know it.”

“I’ve just hung the tea-kettle over the fire,” she said, ruffling up his hair. “You could wash up for a nice cup o’ tea before you dress your bird, if you don’t dally.”

Frankin raced to the back door, hung Hubba Hubba on the latch and wheeled ’round to go to the well in time to find his little brothers following. “Hey Poopkink!” he snarled. “If you and Poopdink have to sneak along behind me, don’t you dare touch the game bag.”

***

“Help!” cawed Hubba Hubba, coming to in total blackness. “I’m dead again! I can’t see!” He hysterically thrashed and flogged his wings against the insides of the cramped box they had him in, pausing to go light in the head, gasping for want of air.

Someone heard his cries and threw open the box. “Kawk!” he cried as four chubby hands crowded in after him. “Have some respect! Can’t you idiots tell I’m wounded here?”

Both boys squealed and yanked back, dropping the lid on Hubba Hubba.

“Hey! I object! This is abuse! Here I am, smashed in the head…”

“Hit does talk!” they cried in wide-eyed chorus.

“You got it!” shouted Hubba Hubba. “And do you ones listen? Here I am smashed in the head, some drooling gnoff strangles me ’till I black out, maybe die, and here you ones whack me in the head again… Is this the stinkin’ Pit, or what? Well?”

Suddenly they lunged at the box. Hubba Hubba exploded into frantic flight about the room, landing on a quilting frame drawn up by twine to the overhead beams. “All right,” he rattled. “At least I can see this is some rotten old kitchen, somewhere, and not the Pit. And whatever you two are, I am not some kind of ‘it!’ I’m one right proud crow and I’m traveling with a young man who ought to here directly to cut off your stinkin’ heads for doing this to me…!”

“Hey you little gwrteithiau!” yelled Frankin as he threw open the door. “What’d I tell you about my game bag? And why weren’t you out helping us drive in the six sheep which just now got out in the garden? Which one of you left the gate open anyway…?”

“It’s loose!” cried Kink.

“Close the door!” cried Dink.

“I am not an ‘it,'” rattled Hubba Hubba.

“Taran!” shouted Frankin as he slammed the door and began glancing about. “So you not only let the sheep out, you got into my bag and turned the crow loose! If he gets clean away, you’ll not only be cachu, I’ll find something really disgusting and make you each eat its cachu!”

“He’s right over your head,” said Dink.

Frankin wheeled ’round and looked up. “Mom!” he bellowed, “Come in here and see what they did now!” He lunged and missed Hubba Hubba, whacking the quilting frame madly about on the ends of its short twines.

“Kawk!” cried Hubba Hubba, as he crouched to hang on

Frankin leaped again, snapping a twine and knocking down the frame to smash a huge crock of soupy cottage cheese onto the floor.

“You bloated idiot!” cawed Hubba Hubba, springing into flight about the room. He spied a board nailed across the timbers and landed on that with his back to the ceiling. “You stinking armpit maggot…”

“So you’re some kind of magic crow, aye?” he said, taking out his sling. “Well it doesn’t matter, bird-o. You’ll never get out of this room, ’cause when I knock you down, I’m goin’ ‘o jerk your ugly head out o’ your shoulders!”

“No!” cried Kink and Dink together.

“Frankin!” cried their mom as she stepped in the door to go apoplectically wide eyed. “My stars! That’s fifteen gallons of cottage cheese, all over!”

“They did it!” wailed Frankin. “They got into my bag when I told them not to and turned loose the crow. I’ve got to kill it quick…”

“No!” cried Dink. “Hit’s magic…!”

“Hit talks!” cried Kink.

“And they’ve gotten windy as kites in the process, too, I see. Well you two, what have I told you about making up things…?”

“But it’s true!” wailed Kink. “Frankin knows it, too!”

“I think you two need to take this stack of bowls and scoop up as much clean cheese as you can get off the floor for your next several meals. Then, you need to mop up every bit of what’s left.”

“But we aren’t making it up!” wailed Dink, as his mom thrust a stack of bowls into his arms and steered him toward the slumping mound of cheese and crock chards.

“Now, freak bird, hit’s your turn,” said Frankin, fitting a stone into his sling.

“Kawk!” cried Hubba Hubba. “Lady, lady! Please listen to your little fellows!”

“That’s not the least bit amusing, Frankin,” she said, wheeling ’round to glare at him.

“But I didn’t…”

“No, no, no, no!” cawed Hubba Hubba. “I did! I’m not some game animal to be beaned and chucked in the kettle. Hey! I’ve got brains here.”

“Mercy!” she gasped. “You do talk!”

“Hit’s a trick, Mom, said Frankin.

“Right. So where’s the minstrel puppeteer?”

“Come on, Mom! Somebody taught him to talk…”

“Absolutely!” rattled Hubba Hubba. “Just like they did you, only I didn’t need to be taught how to think, and you’ve yet to manage.”

“Don’t touch the bird,” she said, snatching away his sling. “Do not harm him, understand?”

“But he’ll get away!”

“We’re going to be real good to him ’till we figure him out,” she said. “Now go fetch me a good sized box to put him in, and make sure there are a right smart amount of air holes in it.”

“Air holes?” cried Hubba Hubba. “What kind of ‘real good’ to me is that? No wonder you haven’t taught maggot boy here how to think, yet! And I don’t care what he brings back, you’re going to have to come up here and get me!”

The Burgeoning

Carol Marrs Phipps and Tom Phipps

Who is Meri Greenwood?

Meri Greenwood (Dyn Gwyrdd in Old Niarg Standard) was the oldest of all Fairies. He became the husband of Celeste after aeons of courting her, and though he may not actually be Talking Father himself, he was unquestionably tramping about a good ten thousand years before Spitemorta’s time, paying visits to Calon Fforydd, the Heart of the Forests in the Great Stone Tree, which the First Wizard chiseled out and took away from the world of trees for his own as the Heart of the Staff.

In Good Sister, Bad Sister he gives a magic stick to Ocker the raven and brings tidings to the wizard Razzmorten that the evil sorcerer Razorbauch has changed the entire Forest Primeval into the Chokewoods. In The Burgeoning, he leads King Neron and his Elves through his ring of mushrooms to safety in his underground village, Gerddi Teg. He marries Celeste in The Reaper Witch, and readies Ariel and Daniel to fulfill the Elven Prophesy in Doom.

Meri returns in WHAM! and THEN… as Kellen Greenwood’s father and grandfather to his two children, Tess and Nia, when first Tess, and then Tess, her father and friends enter the Fairy Ring and travel the Fairy Paths to the past.

Tess Greenwood: Personality Profile

Tess Greenwood

Age 17

5’5’’

110 lbs

Green hair

Green eyes

Tess Greenwood is a half Fairy, half Human (here, Human is a race and therefore capitalized), daughter of Kellen and Cait Greenwood, sister of Nia and Granddaughter to Meri and Celeste Greenwood. Tess, one of the two main protagonists in Wham! She is still in High school and is considered rebellious by her teachers and school officials because she refuses to engage in the promiscuous behavior of her peers, even though she has had all her shots and thus will not contract any STD’s or become pregnant.

Tess is quiet and introverted with few friends, and often the brunt of cruel teasing and bullying from her peers. Until her parents and sister are taken in the middle of the night by the brutal Children and Family Services Police, Tess ignores the current fads and fashions of her peers, usually wearing jeans, t-shirt and sneakers while keeping her thigh-length, green hair in a single braid down her back.

After Tess’s family are removed from their home, the bald watcher in her skinny ball (a governmental spying device citizens are forced to keep in every room of their homes) tells her it is her fault they were taken.

Excerpt from Wham!

“Tess,” said the bald man in the skinny ball. “Have you any idea why it was necessary to resettle your parents?”

“I can’t imagine how any thing like that could ever be necessary…”

“They’ve allowed you to become sarcastic and defiant when you should be expressing your respect and gratitude. The teachers and councilors at your school have been concerned. Your parents weren’t managing…”

“No!” she cried out in hoarse anguish, “No! No! No!”

The next day when Tess awoke:

Tess had been asleep for some time when she awoke from a terrible nightmare about the man in the skinny and sat up with a gasp. She could see by the utter blackness that it had not been daylight for hours. There was not even a crack of light from the door to the kitchen. She lay back with a sigh. “Did the school really turn me in?” she thought as she stared at the ceiling which was too dark to see. “Did Children and Family really come for Mom and Dad and Nia because of me? If I were like the other kids would they still be here? And if I start acting exactly like everybody else, would they let Mom and Dad come home?” She threw back her covers and sat on the edge of the bed. “There’s nothing for it. I’m going to Broadstreet.”

***

Broadstreet is where the troll compound is located and where Tess’s friend, Maxi, has his Barber/tattoo shop. Maxi’s makeover leaves Tess with a Mohawk, a number of piercings and a tattoo. She hopes fervently that her sincere attempt to conform with her peers will lead to the return of her family. It doesn’t take long for her to discover her hopes are all in vain.

Who are the Giants?

The giants who capture Herio and Philpott in Doom are described below as they are in Doom‘s Glossary and in Heart of the Staff, the Complete Appendix.

Giants – Gigantopithecus blacki R., also known as howlers or howlies or tall men, gigantic secretive nocturnal hominids that walk upright and live just below the tree line of the Sunset Mountains and in other isolated areas of the Northern Continent. Males range from eight to ten feet tall and can weigh more than eleven hundred pounds. Females range from seven to eight and a half feet tall and weigh half that of the males. Both sexes are entirely covered with a shaggy, nearly black dark brown hair, except for the palms of their hands, the soles of their feet and the forehead and cheeks of the males, and the entire faces of females. The irises of their eyes can be brown or bright blue, whilst the whites of their eyes are black. Their faces are broad and flat in a manner suggestive of the orangutan. Their jaws are V-shaped like those of humans, allowing a bipedal upright carriage of the skull, setting them apart from the great apes. Their molars are far heavier in proportion than those of humans, making them able to masticate whole nuts and other roughage impossible for humans to chew. Their jaw muscles cover the sides of their heads and are anchored to a prominent boney sagittal crest running along the top of their skulls, rather than merely being anchored around the temples as in modern humans. Not only do they walk fully erect in the manner that we do, but their leg bones are similarly proportioned to ours and their toes point forward and are not used for grasping as in the great apes. Additionally, their hands have the prominent thumbs of human hands, further setting them apart from the apes. And whilst their arms are enough longer in proportion to their bodies than humans’ to suggest those of the great apes, they are not long enough to facilitate their knuckle walking quad-ambulation. Both sexes produce an intensely musky pungence that hangs in the air after their passage. It is claimed that the sex of the individual who released a given odor can be reliably determined by human observers who have been around them long enough to become familiar with the creatures. It is not known whether they have voluntary control over the scent. The females ovulate every twenty-eight days like humans rather than having a seasonal estrus as do the apes, and they form life long pair bonds. It is evident that the young are dependent upon their parents throughout their development and take a long time to reach maturity, though just what that length of time happens to be is unknown. They seem not to have a verbal language, though they utter groans and much grunting in close proximity to other individuals, and they make loud long wails (described as hair raising) which can be heard for miles on still nights. What they do have instead of speech is an astonishing and articulate system of sign language, able to ask questions and to convey detail about specific conditions and entities removed in space and time. They also scratch hieroglyphs and crude drawings in the dirt and on rocks and tree trunks. Though they never have been known to shape stone tools, they are quite handy at using un-worked stones and well chosen sticks as tools. They have never been known to use fire. However, they have the incessant habit of stripping fibers from all sorts of plants and scattering about occasional twists of them where they have been. They also tie up bundles of such fibers into pallets and effigies which observers captured by them have seen being used as dolls for the female young.

Welcome to the “NEWSPAPER CHRONICLES” Blog Tour! @Sharrislaughter @4WillsPub #RRBC

THIS IS DAY 1 OF A 3-DAY BLOG TOUR

Thank you to the amazing Nonnie Jules for gifting me this tour during the Random Acts of Kindness Week. It’s just another way that Rave Reviews Book Club supports its members in unexpected ways. Thank you to my host for having me on your website.

∞∞∞

I was fresh out of ideas for the 90 Day Alpha/Omega Short Story Writing Contest and was about to pass it by. At the last minute I decided to rummage through some old papers and documents searching for some ideas when a pile of papers fell out about my time in the newspaper industry. I sat down and started to write and that is how I got my story. I’m a non-fiction writer so this was scary. But you will never know what you can do unless you try and fail and try again.

I’m used to being a competitive person. For example, my girlfriend of many years could drive a stick shift. I admired her so much for being able to do that. So I got up the courage to buy a Toyota Corolla with a stick shift and it forced me to learn. It took some doing. I was jerking up and down the road. That foreign monstrosity would cut off every time I hit the clutch or did something crazy with the drive. But one day, I DID IT!

Being an RRBC member forced me to step outside of my comfort zone and publish a second book. Then a writing contest pushed me into trying my hand at fiction. The title popped into my head as I was writing and shaping the content. One reviewer said that it read like a diary. Maybe so, but isn’t that what chronicling is?

I’m attending RWISA University (another feature of RRBC) because I know there is room for improvement. That’s the competitive streak in me.

∞∞∞

NEWSPAPER CHRONICLES

The story follows the fictional account of one character, Leslie Louise Allen, working at a major newspaper in Downtown Detroit. From her perspective on race; interactions of colleagues; circulation wars; new hires; layoffs and romantic encounters, she takes us on a harrowing journey thru the 70s and 80s when Detroit was a two-newspaper town.

Excerpt:

Randy was biding his time trying to think of ways to get my attention. The girls around him were doing everything they could to get his. Who was watching who?

Hmmm! I see this woman around and I have to get to know her. Who is she? I can’t keep my eyes off of her. I didn’t think that coming to work for this newspaper would put me in the path of the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Would she ever consider going out with a guy like me? There is only one way to find out because she has completely ignored me and I’m not having it. I’ve done everything I could to get her attention, but nothing is working. I’m going to have to find an opportunity or come up with another strategy. Am I in luck! There she is. I must think of something fast!

Randy came from a small mid-eastern town in southern Pennsylvania. His family consisted of his parents and an older brother who never missed a chance to beat Randy to a pulp. That had to toughen him up a bit. It kept him thinking up ways to get revenge on Gerald. They both vied for his parents’ attention. Randy’s dad worked in the coal mines as a manager. But it was still dirty work. Randy learned the value of hard work and making a living from watching his father. His mom was a homemaker. He came from a typical family brought up in that part of the country.

Randy had his share of women so he knew he could attract them. He just had never found himself in a situation like this.

∞∞∞

Ironically, the Detroit Free Press did a Sunday magazine spread of me as I attempted to put together a coalition to try and save our train station which had been vacant and an eyesore over many years. Our newsletter, “On Track!” caught their attention. I came up with that title which was perfect for what we were trying to accomplish. The newspaper that laid me off, found themselves covering my story. How sweet that was.

After rifling through more papers, I wrote “A Citizen’s Group in Action.” It was part of the 90 Day Short Story Contest in 2018 – around the time that the Ford Motor Company purchased the train station. That was the biggest news in our town. Every citizen here in Michigan was so happy to see credible owners who could afford to renovate. There were too many hit and misses over the years. As president of the “New Friends of the Michigan Central Depot,” one individual asked me to get in touch with the media so our group could be recognized. I wasn’t up for that one but putting this very short story out was a less intrusive way to speak out.

I hope you enjoyed this blog and learning a little bit more about me. Thank you so much for stopping by.

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS & BOOK TITLES:

Email: sharrislaughter@gmail.com

Website: http://rememberourladyofvictory.com/

Blog: https://shirleyslaughter.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/sharrislaughter

Author Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/sharrislaughter/

OLV Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/Our-Lady-of-Victory-796220353772511/

Amazon Book Links: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00EXRCH20

MY BOOK TITLES:

Our Lady of Victory, the Saga of an African-American Catholic Community

Crazy! Hot! And Living On The Edge!!

Newspaper Chronicles (Kindle Edition)

A Citizen’s Group In Action – Saving a Train Station

To follow along with the rest of the tour, please visit the author’s tour page on the 4WillsPublishing site. If you’d like to book your own blog tour and have your book promoted in similar grand fashion, please click HERE.

Lastly, Shirley is a member of the best book club ever – RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB {#RRBC}! If you’re looking for amazing support as an author, or if you simply love books, JOIN US! We’d love to have you!

FREE for the FIRST TIME EVER and the ONLY TIME this year. THEN… Timewalker Book 2 6/15/19 – 6/ 17/19.

FREE for the FIRST TIME EVER and the ONLY TIME this year. THEN… Timewalker Book 2 getbook.at/THEN 6/15/19 – 6/ 17/19.

Please share on social media. Here are my Facebook https://www.facebook.com/carol.phipps3 and Twitter https://twitter.com/Car01am links

Will Pandora and her World Alliance rule from Atlantis, under the sea… until the world above no longer breathes?

The much awaited sequel to the highly acclaimed dystopian fantasy novel, WHAM! is here.

“Zipping from the gorgeously enchanting to the darkly terrifying, THEN… is dystopian fantasy at its finest. And it’s even better than Book 1.”
–Stuart Kenyon, author of the SUBNORMAL series & SWIFTLY SHARPENS THE FANG

While the underground frantically works to mount a resistance against Pandora and the World Alliance, the potentate’s evil grows.

She stages withering chemical attacks wherever the underground may survive. She passes more laws to hamper their movements.
And new inventions to control their minds.

And as Nia grows heavy with the potentate’s child, her desperation to escape before the birth turns to panic.

Get ready for hours of entertainment, from the busy pens of Carol Marrs Phipps and Tom Phipps.

Get your copy!

AND

99₵ SALE…WHAM! Timewalker Book 1 getbook.at/WHAM 6/15/19 – 6/17/19.

They took her world. They took her family. They said it was for the greater good.

They lied…

From husband and wife writing team, Carol Marrs Phipps and Tom Phipps, WHAM is an imaginative and original dystopian fantasy where technology and magic stand side by side.

“Rarely have I seen fantasy and science fiction married so successfully.”

When Children and Family Assistance police drag her mom, her dad and her beautiful sister out the door into the night and beat her senseless, Tess Greenwood finds herself alone, her every move watched by the hidden World Alliance. Almost blind after her beating, she flees to the forbidden Broadstreet compound and a troll named Maxi.

So begins Tess’s journey from quiet teen at home to fierce young woman, determined to get back her family any way she can. Even if she must travel time itself.

But time is one thing she has little of. Those arrested in the night seldom live for long, and beautiful young women are destined to become toys for the elite.

Frantic, Tess tries to pull herself together to save her loved ones and her world… and the clock is ticking.

Get your copy and enter the world of the Timewalkers.

“At first, I thought this was your typical dystopian story, but I quickly learned it is so much more. Layer upon layer was peeled back as I read, revealing themes of corruption, power, and greed as well as familial love and loyalty that spans the ages.”

“CHASING THE RED QUEEN” Blog Tour! @ElizabethGlist1 @4WillsPub #RRBC

Chasing the Red Queen

Excerpt: (first contact with an ancient predator)

Clutching her rescuer, blinded by her hair which had been cast upon her face, Donja felt him lower her to her feet, back to the wall. “Are you hurt?” a strong, masculine voice resonated, shielding her with his massive body as the crowd went ballistic.

“I don’t think so,” she mumbled, pushing at her hair. The first thing she saw was soft, blond hair on his chest, visible beneath his open, silk shirt. She rocked her head back and looked up, his massive frame towering over her. Her eyes narrowed. He reeked of masculinity, with a thick brow ridge and broad nose. His cheekbones were prominent with a square jaw, and though his lips were moving, she didn’t hear him, for her eyes were hypnotically drawn to a scar that ran from his cheek to his right ear.

“It’s from the war. Afghanistan,” he said, robbing her of thoughts.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” Donja said, meeting his intense blue eyes.

He raised his hand and gently removed a lock of her hair that was stuck to her lip gloss. “I’m used to it.” He smiled with perfect white teeth. “But what I’m not used to is finding someone as beautiful as you inches from my face.”

BIO:

Karen Glista is a registered nurse and award-winning author. Living in the great lakes state of Michigan, she finds solace in a remote home nestled within a dense forest (which she believes is enchanted). In the moss laden woodlands, she often wanders, all the while delving into and living fantasy as much as reality. Driven by heart, visionary characters, and underlying dreams, she embraces the fictious and much like you comes to know them, and with such, spins a tale that in the dark of night lights your soul.

PURCHASE LINK:

Chasing the Red Queen on Amazon- https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079KJFJW8/

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KarenGlistaBooks/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ElizabethGlist1

Website: https://karenglista.com/

Lastly, Karen is a member of the best book club ever – RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB {#RRBC}! If you’re looking for amazing support as an author, or if you simply love books, JOIN US! We’d love to have you!

Meri shows Everyone Through the Fairy Ring

The caravan of Elves trudged through the hot red sand in determined silence, following Ceidwad, Lladdwr and Arwr with Abaddon and Shot ‘n’ Stop as they accompanied Mentrus, Meinir and Gwawr. By afternoon, they had begun bearing to the north-west, away from the feet of the Great Barrier Mountains, and at once found themselves in rolling countryside, dotted with scrubby junipers. By late afternoon it had become quite hilly, and soon they came to a vast forest of great tall pines. “They’ve stopped yonder, sire,” said Owain with a nod ahead.

“So I see,” said James, staring under the flat of his hand.

“And I do believe that I recognize this Fairy,” said Neron.

“Halloo!” cried the Fairy with a grand wave from where he stood amongst the diatrymas.

“Would you be Meri Greenwood?” said Neron as he dismounted and held out his hand. “Dyn Gwyrdd was your name back when we first met, if I’m right.”

“Not mochel aboven a thousent yere a-go, Neron Ri.” said Meri with a grin as he took his hand and gave it a good shake.

“And just after that, you visited us when we hung the great front door at Oilean Gairdin, and I’ve not seen you since. And this handsome young man here is James, King of Loxmere-Goll.”

“And thou the Queene of Goll ymaried, whom yow al yfled?”

“You can’t imagine how I regret having to admit that, but yes.”

“And thy partye righte soor for water ybe, ey?”

James and Neron both nodded.

“Thanne alowe me for to wolcome hem to the village of Gerddi Teg, the Fayr Gardens of the Grete North Wodes. Weo konnen for to contynue oure introducciones as they hira thurst to slake.”

“Forgive me sire,” said James as he quickly looked about, “but for the life of me, I see no village at all.”

“Thanne by rightes thou the ffirst to seen schuldest bethe,” said Meri as he turned and pointed to a great circle of mushrooms, growing in the mat of pine needles behind him.

“I guess I’m lost…” said James, looking utterly confused.

“Thou nedith na buen,” said Meri with a hearty laugh. “Juste stepe wythinne the cercle. Llewyrch, Danneth and Súlacha awayten thee doun the steyres. Thou nedith carefull to bene to stapen over the musserounes. Mentrus? Plese to lede the way for hym.”

At once Mentrus stepped within the ring and jogged airily down through the dirt and pine needles to vanish altogether, followed by Meinir, Gwawr and then Ceidwad, Lladdwr and finally Arwr. Abaddon looked panicky as his ears sank into the needles of the forest floor, but he was still bravely astride Arwr when he vanished. James gave a wide-eyed look about at everyone and then stepped over the mushrooms to plunge his ankle out of sight as he felt for the top step. “Ah! There it is,” he said grandly as he too trotted down out of sight.

Ch. 41, The Burgeoning

Carol Marrs Phipps and Tom Phipps

Who is Teeuh?

Teeuh is a young woman, a moth winged Fairy who is the daughter of Longbark, the oldest of the Forest Primeval oaks, who makes her from Nasteuh, the daughter of King James and Queen Spitemorta of Loxmere-Goll.

Nasteuh’s grandmother Demonica interferes with Spitemorta’s pregnancy, so that even though Nasteuh is a beautiful and magically endowed baby, her twin brother is born a troll and she manages to chew off the teats of all her wet nurses. When Spitemorta is away making an attack on Niarg Castle, Nasteeuh is stolen in a raid of retaliation on Castle Goll by Niarg soldiers. By the time she is taken to the three Fairy sisters beneath Mount Bedd, she is known to all as the damned baby. When Damned Baby becomes too dangerous for the Fairies to handle, they wrap her in a cocoon and give her to Longbark to remake.

After several months, she emerges from the cocoon, a gorgeous young woman with green hair, moth wings and the teeth of a dogfish shark. She spends the next twenty years living with her Fairy mamas, communing for hours and days at a time with her mother Longbark, who teaches her and continually increases her magical power for things to come.

Teeuh can be found in the following books:

Who are the Fairies?

Fairies, Homo sapiens viridihirsutensis R., who appear in Good Sister, Bad Sister, The Burgeoning, The Reaper Witch, Doom and Wham! are a race of humans indigenous to the primeval oak forests of Fairy Valley and to the lands which become the Chokewoods under Razzorbauch’s enchantment. They are characterized by alabaster-white skin, eyes with emerald green irises, pointed ears and brilliant green hair that has metallic iridescence in sunlight and which develops bright yellow streaks with advancing age, much as the hair of other races turns grey or white. They are, like their Elven cousins, highly intuitive and predisposed to magical abilities. However, their attunement with their surroundings far exceeds that of the Elves and has become a specialized involvement with the green world, particularly with oak trees. Barring accidents, they are immortal.

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