By JT Petty
Just a baby so quick-witted as Clemency Pogue, upon discovering herself attacked by means of a depraved, invincible fairy, could take into accout a lesson discovered from the tale of Peter Pan. She shouts "I don't think in fairies," and whilst it does not paintings, retains shouting it until eventually the terrible little creature drops as lifeless as a gossamer-winged doorknob. yet then a mischievous hobgoblin arrives to inform Clem that she's killed six different fairies around the world, a few undesirable, yet generally stable. no matter if it used to be a mistake, it really is now Clem's accountability to set the area aright.
In his hilarious, action-packed debut novel, JT Petty does for burlap pants what holes have performed for Swiss cheese.
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Additional info for Clemency Pogue: Fairy Killer
Clem raised her arms and brought her hands together in a clap that would easily have brained an elephant. The fairy emerged from her hands unshaken, grinning like a barracuda. It was invincible. It dove forward at Clem’s neck, and she fell backward, trying to evade the tiny burning barb. She realized an important thing as her legs buckled and she fell backward. She realized that there would be no ground to catch her for the next thousand feet or so; she was falling into the gorge. Clem’s breath left her as the treetops arched away in a rush.
Through a hallway, a den, a great living room, and then they could see him, standing pale and malicious through a doorway. He was standing in the middle of a room that was all dark wood and expensive furniture. He cast a slow, sweeping gaze across the room, arcing like a lighthouse of bitterness on the rocky shores of filial ingratitude. The room was some kind of a study; it reeked of authority and tradition. His gaze fixed on an object out of sight, against a far wall. He stood gazing at it for a moment like a matador, and then charged out of sight.
She looked at the little yam-colored beast hovering above her and narrowed her eyes like a gunslinger. “I don’t believe in fairies,” she said. The fairy lurched backward and crossed its arms in front of its face. An uncertain, tense moment passed like a fart in a crowd, and then the barracuda grin returned to the fairy’s angelic face. The little monster descended on dear Clem. ” she said again. ” The fairy landed gracefully on Clem’s burlap pants and hopped upward toward her face. “I don’t believe in fairies!