Priss Starwillow & the Wolf, and Other Stories

By D. L. Lewellyn

The first time they meet, she pelts him with bunchberries. The black wolf would suffer the sticky mess an entire day if it meant listening to her sweet laughter and the soothing sound of her wings... but he has a job to do. ~ Priss Starwillow & the Wolf

 

In addition to tales in the Tsuga Kingdom, featuring Priss Starwillow and her handsome black wolf, enjoy this collection of an eclectic mix of genres, characters, and worlds. Meet the giant Greek god Tityus in his underground grotto, horribly bored from endless torture and looking for entertainment. How about a cannibal comedy with a ferryman taking a group of serial killers to a masked party through an eerie swamp? You will love the Kassian dragon Mareduke who encounters a toddler alone in the woods, though Eliana is more than she seems. You can ride a giant pineapple into a lost world. You'll even meet a pair of Oscar fish trying to get fed while this mundane household chore keeps getting interrupted by a stranger wielding a butcher knife. And recently added for your enjoyment is a whodunnit, Little Shop of Honeybees. Thank you for giving my stories a read.

 

Review for Priss Starwillow & the Wolf:

"I love this short story! The setting is incredibly immersive, the characters are well fleshed out and captivating, and it got me wanting more. Great writing wraps everything together perfectly. "His eyes found hers again." Also, I have a huge crush on Sam now." ~ Isa

 

Now Featuring 12 Stories:

• Priss Starwillow & the Wolf
• The Last of the Glenning Crows
• The Guardian
• Little Shop of Honeybees
• Hellbound Hiatus
• Pineapple Ride to Anywhere
• The Passengers
• A Noble Wind
• End at Barfleur
• Message in the Clouds
• The Oscarsons
• Words Through a Vent

• Language: English
• Publisher: D. L. Lewellyn
• Release date: Feb 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215312148

D. L. Lewellyn

When Darci isn't living in worlds populated by her characters, she enjoys retired life with her husband and canine companions on two acres backed against the eastern slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The rugged and beautiful country inspired the settings in her paranormal shifter romance series, The Starlight Chronicles. Besides writing and blogging about a writer's life, Darci has a passion for traveling, researching family history, and journaling, and all sorts of arts and crafts are explored in her tiny studio crammed full of colorful things. Darci started writing during the second half of her fifties and tells anyone she meets who dreams of writing to quit dragging their feet and go for it. She's proof that an exciting story can come out of anyone. In addition to her novels, you can find Darci's published stories in anthologies by Dragon Soul Press.

Book preview

Introduction

Iinvite you to enjoy this collection of stories set in rich and diverse worlds that will weave their way into your consciousness and provide an escape for those tiny pockets of time you might have to sit down with a cup of tea and get lost in another place.

Priss Starwillow & the Wolf and The Last of the Glenning Crows are the first installments to the prequel story of two adored characters from my paranormal romance series, The Starlight Chronicles.

Taking a break from my novels to write these stories for fun and various competitions has been a joy and a welcome opportunity for growth as a writer. Thank you for sharing them with me. ~ Darci

A wolf howling at the northern lights Description automatically generated with medium confidence

Priss Starwillow & the Wolf

Though the Fae realms are at war with the witches, in the Tsuga Kingdom, the Nightshade sisters have mysteriously kept to themselves in the confines of a dark forest—until they dare to kidnap an innocent subject beloved by all.

King Trevan Starwillow turns to the human side of the portal for help after learning about a rogue wolf shifter from Montana rumored to have special knowledge of the covens and an unmatched reputation as a mercenary. But the king’s daughter suspects there is another reason fate brought the shadowy green-eyed warrior to her lands.

BUNCHBERRY BOMBS

The black wolf paused when a fat bunchberry dropped on his ear with precision and another one burst in a sticky pulp along his muzzle. Unfazed, he licked at the juice and continued to pad soundlessly over the floor of Cedarbirch Forest. By now, the purple nectar coated his thick fur, and his ambusher showed no sign of leaving to pursue other victims.

His shadows could hide him from the sharp eyes of the mischievous fairy princess, but where would the fun be in that?

When brilliant green fairy dust from another pass wafted through the dappled morning light, he smiled to himself and decided not to think too much about why the sound of her fluttering wings soothed him—making the messy trek well worth the abuse to his dignity.

The Yew River would be in sight any minute, where he could free himself of the goo, shake her loose, and proceed to his destination. He didn’t want his tiny huntress following him and getting in the way of his task.

Given a choice he would dodge her fruit bombs forever if it meant listening to the high sweet notes of her laughter as she flitted from tree to tree. But the glimmer of water flashing through the woods reminded him it was time to get serious.

He drew his shadows around him and darted between the vegetation until he reached the river’s edge. He dove in and let the current churn him along. Purple clouded the swirling water as the pulp agitated free. When he was clean and far enough downstream, he pushed off from the riverbed and shimmied up the embankment, gathering his shadows like a cloak.

Only the small sounds of nature greeted him as he flattened himself to read the earth and assess his surroundings. Confident he was alone, he all but became invisible in the inky blackness of another forest, this one full of worse hazards than an impish fairy because it was occupied by the enemy.

A SISTER’S WOE

My baby sister sobbed on our father’s knee while he stared at the lake through the towering window and stroked her golden braids. Fern was unaware of his struggle to control his anger, but his dark mood was clear from where I stood.

The lightness in my heart from playing with the handsome wolf sank like a stone.

What is wrong, little sunflower? Two beloved heads turned towards me.

Priss! Fern leapt up and flew into my arms. Ebun was caught in the witches’ snare when he was gathering mushrooms. Ebun, an empathic woodland gnome, was her best friend, constant companion, and fellow apprentice healer. He was also one of the gentlest souls across three kingdoms.

I had come to the throne room to see my father, King Trevan Starwillow, about his contract with the beast I just hampered with my sticky missiles because other than his scheduled arrival, Father hadn’t shared much.

The coven Fern said had our friend was sequestered in the Faint Woods—and the biggest problem to plague our realm in two hundred years. The constant threat they posed was why I surmised the King had resorted to something new when he hired outside services from the world of humans in the form of an unknown shifter.

Letting the wolf know I had something to say about that had been great fun no matter that he continued his course, ignoring the mess I made of his shiny black coat—the gleam of an emerald eye the only reward for my efforts.

Fern trembled, and I cradled her under my chin. I’m so sorry, dearest. Ebun understood the order not to forage near the coven. What was he thinking? How do you know they have him?

Luminous eyes as golden as her hair beseeched mine and she sniffled even as she stuck out her chin. Our exams are coming up. We needed Lion’s Mane Mushrooms, and he was sure he could stay hidden while he gathered them. You know as well as I his skill at disappearing into nature. I can’t imagine what kind of snare could trap a gnome.

My father, now pacing with long strides in front of his throne, finally spoke. The coven sent their demand for a ransom by way of Old Murdock, which at least revealed their dangerously thorough understanding of our household. He looked pointedly at Fern.

I frowned and nodded. His youngest child was what the humans would call his Achilles heel.

Old Murdock was a crow, living in our realm from before my father’s time, who inexplicably took up with the witches. The bird often brought us taunting threats in notes tucked in his beak, but nothing as serious as this.

Our predicament was one of many across the Fae kingdoms because we were in a war the witches started when a coven kidnapped an elf prince for his body parts. The plot failed when a young witch destined for leadership decided she’d rather the handsome prince be left intact, choosing him and his kingdom over her coven.

Though the fairy folk of the Tsuga realm were peaceful farmers, scholars, and artisans, we were very capable of warfare. We coped with the interlopers in our midst because we desired, along with our King, to maintain the balance of peace. We had so far achieved it because the witches avoided testing my father outright, satisfied to stay within the confines of the Faint Woods... until today.

What is it they want, Father?

He stopped pacing and faced me but avoided answering my question, saying instead, This was an opportunity they couldn’t pass up. We will consult with Samuel Harrison after his investigation.

I started to protest. Waiting was a bad idea. But I held back my words because my sister was upset enough. She would never be the same if something happened to Ebun. It was hard to conceive of someone wanting to harm an innocent like him, but the witches had no such qualms. We had to get him back.

He read my thoughts. We must be cautious, Priss. This is why I brought the mercenary shifter here. I need his unique skills as a spy and a commander who understands the enemy. Promise me you’ll work with him. I realize he’s a novelty and fascinates you, but this has turned serious.

I’ll do my part as always, Father. I cocked my head. You put great store in this rogue. What is his story?

If I knew that, he wouldn’t be good at his job, and trust me, he’s good at what he does. Let’s have tea while we wait. Your sister could use some. When I stared at him, he offered more. All I know for certain is that Sam is from a place called Montana, and there is more to him than shifter blood.

He took Fern under his arm, and we headed across the cavernous room with its brown marble floors and two-story windows that opened to sweeping vistas of his realm.

A loud squawk halted our progress.

Old Murdock flew inside and dared to land on the King’s throne. The giant black bird with white speckling its old head had something bloody clamped in its beak.

THE COVENSTEAD

None of the bustling inhabitants were aware of the shadowy mass moving among them because the interior of the Faint Woods was as dark as Sam was, illuminated here and there by a few stolen fairy lights and a bit of sun that managed to break through the canopy.

Six females gathered around a cauldron, one stirring, the others staring into it as if waiting for something to happen. More were busy sorting, bottling, and labeling a shimmering blue liquid that appeared to be the same as that in the pot.

Two acted as sentries at either end of the covenstead, but their eyes continued to pass over the wolf who scouted the clearing from within his cloak of darkness.

No structures existed in the dense forest. The industry was being conducted in the open, with furniture formed from the natural surroundings. Giant Reishi mushrooms were perfect as tables, and various shelves made from stacked stones and woven twigs leaned against trees,