The Case of the Perishing Pixies

By Laura Ware

Half-elf detective Eli Leafrunner walks his beat in the Neighborhood, the dark, seamy underside of the magical Islands of Fantasy. When pixies start turning up dead, it's Eli's job to find the killer. With the fate of his kinsfolk in his hands, Eli must solve the case quickly - before he becomes the killer's next victim.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JJ Press
• Release date: Apr 8, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370513765

Laura Ware

Laura Ware writes in a variety of genres. Her novels are mostly inspirational fiction, although she is currently working on a fantasy series as well. Her short fiction ranges from mainstream to fantasy/science fiction and several things in between. Her stories have been published in a number of Fiction River anthologies, including Past Crime, Last Stand, Editor’s Choice and Feel the Fear. Laura also writes a weekly column for the Highlands News-Sun and her essay “Touched by an Angel” was published in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Random Acts of Kindness in 2017.

Book preview

So it’s Saturday night, and I’m standing in a dark, dank alley staring down at a crushed pixie. Red blood sparkles with magic dust all around the sad little body. The face is still intact, and the look on it told me the last thing the creature felt was terror .

Sometimes I hate my job.

Looking to the northeast, I can see the bright multicolored lights of Islands of Fantasy. There Elvin voices are raised in song, dwarves laugh as they create toys and souvenirs, and humans from around the Island come to ooh and aah and spend their money.

Most humans are not aware of the dark side of this place. The side all those dwarves and elves and pixies and other magical creatures live in when not putting on the happy-happy faces for the tourists. The dirty and ugly parts of Islands of Fantasy, which was the true reality.

Of course, I’m all too aware of the darker nature of this place.

My name’s Eli Leafrunner.

I carry a badge.

Smithers, the goblin coroner, is shaking his watermelon shaped head. Same MO as the last three. Shaken, then stomped.

I sigh, then regret it as the stench of dead pixie and garbage