Fairies - Fractured and Uncut: 7 Humorous Fantasy Tales (Fractured Fairies Collection)

By Alexa Grave

Take one grouchy sea nymph, add a woeful human-sized giant, and mix in two lewd, drunken fairies.

What do you get?

An unsavory blend of immortals attempting to live together in the real world.

7 Humorous Fantasy Tales in the Fractured Fairies series, including:

Immortal Woes

Nothing like having a suicidal not-so-giant giant as a best friend. Unless you also have a couple of drunken fairy pests tormenting him about his small stature.

Grinka's the lucky sea nymph who has both. Between comforting her friend and stopping the lewd fairies from taunting him with a death powder, her temper gets the best of her.

And when it does, things explode.

Ode To Buses And Libraries

A maddening itch on the back of Grinka’s neck drives her to seek answers. Unfortunately, the information about her skin condition can only be found at the Immortal Library.

Getting to the library proves difficult, especially when riding the Immortal Express bus line. Between a lackadaisical centaur and the drunken fairy siblings, it's a wonder Grinka hasn't exploded them all.

Oh wait, she has.

S.O.L. Air

That whole “life’s a journey, not a destination” nonsense doesn’t hold water with Grinka. Especially when she books a flight to Vegas to get away from the two fairy nitwits.

She fails to consider the aquatic ramifications of a sea nymph in the air. And a chance encounter with her goblin ex-boyfriend, Hrelm, threatens to delay her even further.

Seriously, what’s it going to take for Grinka to get to Vegas and gamble away her meager savings?

Monster In The Room

What does a sea nymph do when she comes home to find a monster filling her entire living room? Find out in this bite-sized gulp of Grinka.

A Very Grinka Christmas

Grinka's main goal for Christmas: survive without celebrating a damned thing. Between playing an elf to her mopey human-sized giant friend’s Santa and contending with the fairy siblings’ holiday revelries, she’s got her work cut out for her.

When uninvited guests appear on her doorstep, she’s forced to face a party of all the people she ran from when she left the Immortal World. No thanks to that torture!

Grinka plots to avoid the party, until she meets a handsome tree nymph who agrees to attend. Maybe, just maybe, this year Grinka will have a Merry Christmas.

Bytes Bite, And So Do Fairies

As usual, Grinka the sea nymph can’t catch a break. She simply wants to publish her novel. Unfortunately, the two fairy thorns in her side mess with her computer. Too bad they’re immortal and can’t meet the same demise as the innumerable fairies in her book.

If that isn’t enough of a plague, Grinka’s sister Raina pops in from the Immortal World, bringing the first immortal virus with her. And now, Grinka is quarantined in her room with the two fairy nitwits.

Will she survive to hit publish, or will the rainbows and fairies win?

Nymphs Need Love Too

What do you prescribe a depressed sea nymph? A handsome tree nymph, of course.

Grinka can’t stop dreaming of Bello, the hunky tree nymph she met a couple years ago. Unfortunately, sharing her bed with her drama llama teen nymph sister has put a damper on her love life.

Who’s she kidding? Her love life was nonexistent even before she took in her runaway sister. Well, aside from the incident with her goblin ex-boyfriend and his dwarven girlfriend – an event that continues to haunt her in the form of the stalker dwarf.

But Grinka’s not-so-giant giant best friend brings her the gift of Bello’s phone number. Can she summon the courage to call him for a date? And if so, what will her sister and the fairy brats do to ruin it for her this time?

Trigger Warning: Suicide mentioned, albeit concerning immortals only.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alexa Grave
• Release date: Jul 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215716526

Alexa Grave

Alexa Grave loves to tell stories -- it just so happens her characters occasionally take her on an unexpected ride. Most of what she writes is dark fantasy, but she also likes to weave humor and romance into her fantasy as well.

Book preview

Fairies - Fractured and Uncut

FAIRIES - FRACTURED AND UNCUT

7 HUMOROUS FANTASY TALES

FRACTURED FAIRIES

ALEXA GRAVE

HAUNTED UNICORN PUBLISHING

Want a FREE dark fantasy novel?

Sign up for Alexa Grave’s Newsletter!

Take one grouchy sea nymph, add a woeful human-sized giant, and mix in two lewd, drunken fairies.

What do you get?

An unsavory blend of immortals attempting to live together in the real world.

FAIRIES - FRACTURED AND UNCUT

Copyright © 2023 by Alexa Grave

Immortal Woes Copyright © 2015

Ode to Buses and Libraries Copyright © 2015

S.O.L. Air Copyright © 2016

Monster in the Room Copyright © 2016

A Very Grinka Christmas Copyright © 2016

Bytes Bite, And So Do Fairies Copyright © 2021

Nymphs Need Love Too Copyright © 2022

Cover Art Red Fairy by algolonline / Splatters by yellowpixel / Wine Glass by koltsova

Cover Design and Formatting by Haunted Unicorn Publishing

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact Haunted Unicorn Publishing at [e-mail].

This story is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Haunted Unicorn Publishing

P.O. Box 408

Watertown, WI 53094

For all those who put up with my sarcastic personality.

CONTENTS

Preface

Immortal Woes

Ode to Buses and Libraries

S.O.L. Air

Monster in the Room

A Very Grinka Christmas

Bytes Bite, And So Do Fairies

Nymphs Need Love Too

Newsletter Sign-Up

Titles By Alexa Grave

About the Author

PREFACE

Humor. It’s such a subjective perception on what one finds funny or not.

Although all of my Fractured Fairies stories are humorous to me, I know there are plenty of people who will find them less so. Of course, I’m searching for those who laugh along with me when I write.

From the first story, Immortal Woes, I’ve used this series as a means to find a way to laugh at aggravating situations. And yes, I’m pulling from my own experiences. These stories help me vent about matters out of my control and turn the concerns on their heads.

Woes addresses one of the more serious topics that’s been a part of my life, whether it be people close to me attempting suicide or my own consideration of the act (which is far in my past at this point). Many will say it’s not a situation to take lightly. I agree, in most instances. But my brain insisted on a way to climb out of the darkness that I’d experienced, and it landed on humor.

If you’re too tender from your own ordeals, I encourage you to skip the first story in this collection. The subsequent stories bemoan and poke fun at lighter subject matter, from dealing with the aggravation of riding across long distances via the bus or the hair-pulling conundrum of convincing smart speakers to do what you ask.

Grinka, Syndago, Tamor, and Tamara won’t hold it against you for missing their inaugural outing, and the stories are written so you won’t lose anything from skipping around. Wait, I spoke too soon. The fairy siblings will hold it against you, but Grinka will splatter them into smithereens to distract them. She understands.

Now quick, page to the story of your choice before the fairies pull themselves back together!

IMMORTAL WOES

He huffs, he puffs, and he blows his brains out.

Periwinkle liquid splatters my face, clinging to my eyelashes. Life with a suicidal immortal as a best friend – exasperating and yucky.

I was attempting to wrestle the gun out of Syndago’s hands when he pulled the trigger. Though I know he can’t die, I didn’t want him to try. Again.

Death attempts only lead to a mess and inquiring mortals.

I wipe the apricot-scented gunk from my eyes, hoping no one heard the gunshot. If someone did, maybe they won’t care. This is New York, after all. Gunshots are simply background noise. Right?

Syndago staggers around the living room, a huge hole where his face used to be. It’s not supposed to do so much damage, at least not according to all the crime shows I’ve watched. But that whole not human thing tends to come into play. Weapons wreak more havoc on immortals.

The shiny, silver handgun lies discarded on the floor. I’m not sure where he got it, and I wonder how hard it’ll be to get rid of. Maybe I’ll toss it into the Immortal World. Let the dwarves, elves, and goblins play with it.

He stumbles into an end table, and the lamp teeters. It succumbs to gravity and shatters on the ground – the true victim of this incident.

I sigh. Typically I only need to replace broken furniture after the fairies visit.

Syndago’s knees buckle, and he thuds onto his ass. His burly, thundering form shakes the entire apartment, and the windows rattle. If he still had a mouth, he’d surely be blubbering.

Poor, big lug. I miss his face, even if it has a frown affixed to it most of the time.

The crater shrinks slightly, flesh and bone regenerating. Who knows how immortals survive fatal injuries. At least half his brain is gone, if he had a whole one to begin with. Humans would kill for our secret, and Syndago would happily give himself over for experimentation if it meant finding him a cure.

Not that I’m about to give him that idea. The last thing I want is for him to succeed at his suicide attempts. And it’s best humans remain oblivious of our existence.

Maybe the wound will cause him memory loss, and he’ll forget he wants to kill himself.

Wait, no. He tried a guillotine once – it sheared his head right off. It thumped into the basket whole, thankfully no longer animated. A human-sized giant with one mouth is enough to deal with. Can you imagine a second tucked under his arm bemoaning life? I shudder at the thought.

Well, when he chopped his head off, I actually dreaded that he’d succeeded for a moment. Then the regeneration kicked in, and he grew a new head, spiky black hair and all. He remembered everything then, so he will now.

The bullet worms its way out of Syndago’s flesh and tings on the hardwood, then his face completes knitting itself back together. He struggles to his feet and slumps onto the couch, tears dripping from his reconstructed brown eyes. Nothing works, Grinka. What am I going to do?

If I had a dollar for every time he asked that question, well... Who am I kidding, it wouldn’t even cover a week’s worth of food for him. Maybe a decade of meals for me, though.

Or I could buy a house. That would be nice. This loft of ours isn’t big enough for a sea nymph and a giant, even if he is human-sized. And my friend with a death wish always follows in my wake. Unfortunately trying to off himself isn’t lucrative.

Give up! You’re immortal. If I had a dollar every time I said that, well, yeah, whatever. Quit moaning, you big lummox.

Syndago weeps into his hands. His big tears sneak through his fingers and splatter the couch.

Oops. I know better than to call him big when he’s in his suicidal moods. Of course my general bitterness tends to short circuit my manners. What can I say? I’m an angry, inconsiderate sea nymph. He deserves a better best friend.

Syndago’s small stature happens to be why he’s trying to kill himself. He’s a giant, but as giants go, he’s little. His parents are twice his size. And that makes him an outcast in the Immortal World – the fundamental reason why our friendship began.

See, while he’s too small of a giant, I’m a sea nymph without a single scale or fin on me. His ability to smash scenery along with the bigger boys and the gills on my neck aren’t enough to warrant acceptance from our respective species.

The periwinkle giant blood on my face hardens. Great. I don’t need another part of my body covered in a shell – I already have two over my breasts.

Damned seashells. Pink, shimmery eyesores. I hate being a sea nymph. Too bad immortals can’t change species like humans change jobs. At least I fled the Sea Kingdom in the Immortal World – my only option to escape part of the nymph insanity, and the best decision I ever made in my life.

Good thing I don’t have flippers or a finned tail. The suckers with those are stuck in the water permanently.

Unfortunately the sea nymph attire is still pure torture. Want to wear a nice, lacy blouse or a simple T-shirt? Nope, sorry. Once I put on a top, it disappears. Only the waters know where the clothes go – likely to a niche in the Immortal World. Maybe added to a fashionista dragon’s hoard.

I purchased a Big Apple T-shirt when we first arrived in the city, and giddy over starting a new life, I put it on immediately after returning home. As soon as I got comfortable, the fabric soft against my skin… Poof!

Syndago guffawed – one of the few times I’ve ever heard him laugh.

Let me tell you, New York is frigid in winter, especially if you have a bare belly. Most immortals use a cloak of illusion to disguise themselves when among humans, a charm I exploit to appear as a high-class stripper, but it does nothing to keep me warm. I hope the dragon keeps a toe toasty with my Big Apple T-shirt.

Shoes refuse to stay put, as well. Pants, shorts, and skirts stay on fine, so I’m not forced to feel indecent, though most of my kin prefer swimming au naturel. But by some strange immortal magic, I’m stuck with the seashells on top and bare feet.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention – I can’t remove the seashells. Foreplay sucks.

Syndago wails louder.

All the maiming and lamenting throughout the years drives me to consider joining him in his mission. But I won’t, because I’m not two brain cells shy of a logical thought, and he’d be lost without me.

Stop it, stop it, stop it! My anger builds and cascades, the light bulb over my head bursting. Glass tangles in my unruly, aqua hair.

Oops. I need to keep that destructive power of mine in better check, but I just don’t have the patience today.

Yes, yet another oddity that adds to my outcast status. One that compelled my parents to offer me up for experimentation when I was younger. See, I have a good reason to be bitter.

He sniffles, then offers me the huge, chocolate puppy dog eyes. Sorry, Grinka.

I should apologize for yelling and exploding light fixtures, but I have a hard time owning up to my own mistakes. Syndago understands. I swear, he does.

So stay home and console my mopey giant friend, or go to work and do pole dances for New York’s finest sex addicts? Screw it, I’m calling in. I don’t want to waste my energy tonight acting like my illusion appears, although I’ve been told I have the best damned breasts in this stinking city.

If only that were true. Even with the seashells, I’m pretty flat, and the curves of the illusion hide my stick straight body. The last time I had any action was with a two-timing goblin. To think I sank so low for a piece of ass.

Where’s my phone? I hunt through the couch cushions, Syndago simply shrugging and refusing to move to make it easier for me to search. Finally, I tug my old flip phone free from underneath him.

Two hand-sized visitors emerge from the cushions shortly after. Fairies. Not what I need. They buzz around my head, both coughing and sputtering. Then they shake the dirt and grime from their matching tangerine hair, and it drifts onto my shoulders.

When was the last time you vacuumed, woman? You’d think a sea nymph would keep a clean house. Tamor waggles his fingers at me, his bare maleness dangling between his legs.

Indecent twits. They deserve to choke on the dust bunnies, especially if they decide to travel from the Immortal World to this one in such a contrary way. I mean, couch cushions? It can be worse – most immortals choose the strangest ways to cross into this world. A sink, a chimney, through a mirror. Yes, they enjoy inspiring fairytales.

"Well, when was the last time you put on pants? I told you to be clothed the next time you showed up. Both of you." Of course I prefer they not visit at all, but that’s a delusional wish.

Tamara giggles and performs back flips in midair, her breasts bobbing along with her movements. You strip for a living. Don’t tell us what we can and can’t do. She sticks out her tongue, stained lavender from near constant wine drinking.

Hey, you got any wine? Tamor struggles to open the fridge door.

Drunk bastards. You’re already three sheets to the wind. All fairies prefer to flit about in the nude and drink their lives away. These two siblings are the worst of their kind. I might be biased, though, since they decide to bother us on a regular basis. And you know I don’t buy alcohol.

Grinka, you really should get some for when they stop by, like I suggested. Syndago wipes a glob of snot from his nose with his arm. They’re guests, after all. No matter how much they torment him, he remains a kind-hearted softy.

Me, on the other hand… Not guests. Intruders. Guests are invited and welcome. And aside from a lack of desire to drink myself, it’s fun watching the fairies bemoan the lack of wine. A small pleasure when we suffer through their heckling.

Tamor finally wrestles the fridge open and groans. It’s completely empty. Except for this half-full container of maraschino cherries. He lifts it up easily – fairies can drag around wine bottles ten times their weight. Ew, naked fairy against the glass jar. Don’t you even keep food in the house?

Crap. I forgot I need to go grocery shopping. Blame Syndago. I just went yesterday, and I typically go every other day, but my human-sized giant friend was particularly ravenous this morning.

It amazes me how much he packs away