Impulsive Decisions to Right a Mistake
Gold coins rattled out of the iron pot. Shrieks quickened his pace. Milo skirted the thin trees and jumped off a boulder. Leather boots sliding on the moss, he regained his footing and charged forward. Toward the sunlight just beyond the foliage.
Shoved from behind, he hit the ground. The leprechaun shrieked before clamping sharp teeth onto his bicep.
Milo ripped the creature off and scrambled to get ahead.
The horde cried out.
While You Were Awake
“Stop being such a slugabed,” came the declaration through the door.
Milo pulled the covers over his head, blocking the sunlight streaming through the window. Eyes glued shut, he tried to fall asleep. Things had just been getting good.
“You’re such a slugabed.”
He opened his eyes to the lilting accent of Amalia. His closet-sized room in Michigan had grown into an ornate suite nestled in the hills of medieval England. Birds chirped while men began the day’s work in the palace courtyard.