by Jacqueline Moran Meyer
“Stop,” I yelled, too late. My fiancé had already plopped the lavender cake in his mouth. By the time I reached him, the Faerie had disappeared. I had schooled him on Faerie etiquette ad nauseum. Do not accept gifts.
“Didn’t you notice her pointed ears, glimmering skin?”
“Yum,” he mumbled.
“Did you say thank you?” I asked, my tone grim. His answer would decide our future together.
Distraught, I handed back his ring and walked away.
Saying thank you to a Faerie resulted in her taking your firstborn.
I discovered my pregnancy that morning.
Where could I hide from the Faerie?
Jacqueline Moran Meyer