It’s finally gotten a bit more chilly where I live (no, that’s not the snippet!), and also it’s been raining, which is great because I really love drafting when it rains! There’s something so soothing about it. I just got finished writing the short side story I’ll attach to the newsletter when I get it up and running, and since I’m in such a good mood, here’s the beginning of FINDING FAE ARTIFACTS:
My day wasn’t going well, and it was only ten-thirty in the morning. I gave my phone a last wistful glance as I opened the door into the offices of Proctor & Sullivan Accountant Services. What a way to start the second day of my new temp job.
Ms. Dover, thank you for your application, but no.
The email’s contents hadn’t changed since arriving earlier, but the font seemed larger and somehow in bold.
“You’re late, Maddie,” Lisa said, blocking the way into the small space we shared at P&S. She was dressed in a neat white blouse and blue slacks matching her deep blue lipstick, her midnight black hair cropped short to the beautiful curve of her head.
I wore jeans, a green sweatshirt, sneakers, my brown hair gathered in an easy ponytail, and the beginnings of a zit on my forehead.
Surreptitiously, I glanced down at my phone’s clock before pocketing it. “I don’t start until—”
Lifting her chin, she looked at me down her upturned button nose. “You’re late.”
I sighed and accepted defeat. “Okay.”
Lisa gave me a sharp nod, happy with the acknowledgment of my erroneous ways, but didn’t move. I wanted to nudge her so she would step aside, but Lisa wasn’t the kind of person you casually nudged. Plus, I needed her on my side—office work was boring already as it was without friendly faces nearby.
Also, I really, really enjoyed being alive.
“I need you to go down to the archives.”
Oh, wow. Scratch that about the day not going well—it was sliding right into a catastrophic debacle. “You mean down to the…?”
Another jerk of her chin. “The basement, yes.”
My face must’ve looked like an upside-down smile emoji, because she cleared her throat and got very busy unhooking her keycard from the waist of her slacks. “I need some files from an older client, and they haven’t been digitized yet.” She held out the keycard. “Make yourself useful for being late.”
I eyed the card like it was a viper. This might be my second day at Proctor & Sullivan, but I was no stranger to the building, and had, in fact, done temp jobs at a few other businesses here. People involved with Fae magic tended to stick together, given the rest of humanity was unaware it existed, and something about the building made everyone happy. The parts above ground, at least.
The basement, better known as the Bowels of Hell, was another thing altogether.