The Green Blues (Uncollected Anthology: Magical Quests Book 29): Uncollected Anthology

By Jason A. Adams

When dealing with the supernatural, always be polite.

So Andrew Fleming has always been told.

The Leprechauns of Atlanta face new challenges, this time from across the Pacific.

Join Andrew, Seema, and Leary the Leprechaun in a new adventure as they race to rescue each other, and cast out their rivals before Atlanta passes from their control forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jason A. Adams
• Release date: Dec 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215944554

Jason A. Adams

Jason A. Adams grew up in various Air Force towns, but Southwest Virginia has always been his homeplace. His military brat childhood exposed him to exotic locales, fascinating people from around the world, and a lifetime curiosity that informs his fiction.Jason is the author of many short stories based in and around the Virginia coalfields he lives in and loves. He currently lives on a forest mountain with assorted beasties, and his beautiful and talented wife, Kari Kilgore, also a writer of many wonderful stories.Find out more at www.jasonadams.info, where you can sign up for information on upcoming releases, and the occasional update from The Brain Squirrels.For all works released by Spiral Publishing, including Kari's many fantastic stories and non-fiction by Frank Kilgore, check out www.spiralpublishing.net.

Book preview

The Green Blues

For the weird and wonderful city of Atlanta.

THE GREEN BLUES

JASON A. ADAMS

Spiral Publishing, Ltd.

CHAPTER 1

Andrew Fleming truly despised the smell of kidney pie, but there was no way to avoid it. At least they were eating something from this dimension in there. Could have been a lot worse.

He sat on a broken-down sofa in a shabby reception area while he waited for his next assignment. Besides the hideous Irish food, the room stank of stale pipe tobacco and spilled Uisce Beatha, the Water of Life. Human whiskey was only a pale substitute. Down here they still drank hi-test.

The chamber lay somewhere under the giant granite knob of Stone Mountain, Georgia, now a massive underground fairy mound/office complex. The couch’s ancient brown burlap upholstery made him itch anywhere he touched it, and a busted spring jabbed his rump. He would have preferred to stand, but the giant misshapen Fomoir standing guard by the door was staring at him with unblinking lopsided eyes. Most Fomoir looked like nightmares come to life. Between eyes in odd places, extra or missing limbs, animal heads, and every other odd configuration, they were usually kept out of sight of the normal world.

Better to stay put, he decided. He couldn’t pronounce the goon’s name. Andrew just called him Freddie.

The floor was a checkerboard of worn green- and white-speckled industrial vinyl tile, and the walls were simple primed drywall. Muzak versions of moldy old drinking songs filled the air. Andrew didn’t waste time wondering why his employers didn’t upgrade