The Midwife and the Lindworm

By A. A. Freeman

The Midwife has worked on her share of unusual births over the years—from foxes to royalty to the Gods themselves. One of the stranger births she assisted was a queen who delivered twins: one a boy, the future king, and one a serpent, known as The Lindworm.

Now, almost twenty years later, the queen has called upon The Midwife again—this time, to rid the castle of The Lindworm once and for all. Devouring maidens from across the land, it seems the monster’s thirst for blood cannot be slaked. But the sensible Midwife has no patience for histrionic queens or fae monsters. She intends to settle this. All of it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. A. Freeman
• Release date: May 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463112977

A. A. Freeman

A. A. Freeman is an author, crafter, and all-around geek that lives in the foothills of North Carolina and spends her days writing fantasy and science fiction with a hint of romance. When not writing she knits, cross stitches, plays video games and works on perfecting her dried rose petal shortbread cookie recipe. She's probably not a robot. Beep boop.

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The Midwife and the Lindworm

by A. A. Freeman

The Midwife and the Lindworm by A. A. Freeman

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© 2018 A. A. Freeman

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions please contact:

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Cover art by J. H. Holloway. https://www.bonesnail.com/

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

The Midwife and the Lindworm

About the Author

Acknowledgements

To my Editor, Michelle, for helping me word better

To my Artist, Jay, for making my words pretty

To my patrons, for helping with bills:

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The Midwife and the Lindworm

Draped in the finest silks, The Queen sat upon her throne looking for all the world like a marble statue given life. Her skin showed no hint of the sun, nor did her hands carry the mark of a single day of work. Jewels had been sewn into her dress, and feathers of tropical birds braided through her hair. She held herself with the knowledge that she was as fine as the works of art that hung upon the throne room walls. The