Her Mad Hatter (Kingdom, #1) by Marie Hall
Chapter 1
Danika, fairy godmother extraordinaire, ran her glowing hand over a shadowy bump in the mushroom cap wall of her home. It was the hiding place for her most treasured and valuable item-- her wand. She grabbed hold of the smooth wood, the hum of its power echoing down her fingertips like the swelling vibrations of water dripping on thin metal. Worn down from years of granting wishes. She was the best at what she did. No doubt about it.
Of course that stupid fat cow-oh what was her face, the one who worked with Cinderella-thought she was the best. But honestly, what was her claim to fame? Turning a pumpkin into a coach? Or, how about making mice footmen?
Preposterous.
She was a disgrace to all the fairy godmothers out there with her ridiculous bippity-boppity-booing.
Not to mention her clientele. That simpering little doll-- a classic Mary Sue if ever there was one. Oh save me, Prince Charming, for I am pretty and cannot do a thing for myself. Bat lashes, wiggle bottom, ad nauseum.
Blah!
Pathetic little creature. Danika would rather gouge her eye out with a spoon. A rusty one! And... and... roughened at the edges. She humphed. That’s how much she hated the simpering princes and princesses of her world.
Thankfully, she’d never have that problem. The moment Danika had graduated from Fairy Godmother Inc.- three hundred years ago-she’d applied to work as godmother to the lowly. Since none of the other godmothers wished to work for them, they’d given her the position posthaste and left her to do her thing. Quite happily too, she might add.
Danika worked for the bad boys of Kingdom.
The degenerates; low lifes, and naughty villains. She snorted, shaking her head at how little anyone knew about her boys. Why any self-respecting fairy godmother would pass them over for an inane twit who relied on animals to do her housecleaning was beyond her. Grabbing her stardusted cloak from off the coat rack, she tossed it over her shoulders. Glittering bits of stardust drifted to the floor.
A golden bolt of power flowed down her arm, through her fingers, and out the tip of the wand. It swirled like a flame, dousing out the candles. She shut the door behind her.
Tiny iridescent wings broke free of her vest, lifting her high into the bejeweled night. Her path cut through trees with branches thick as the fattest snakes.
Stargazers shivered at her passing.
“Thank you, Fairy Godmother!” they crooned as the stardust settled on their beautiful pink petals. They swiveled on thin green stems, lapping up the powder like a fine wine.
Danika winked, gave them a jaunty wave, and continued on. Most days she’d stop to chat, maybe sing a song or two, but tonight she traveled in haste.
Once a year, the Bad Five (the truly worst of the worst of her boys) gathered, to drink, to discuss who’d they’d plot against next, and generally muck it up together. It was perfect timing for her-- because she had five birds to kill and one stone to do it with.
Miriam the Shunned-- fairy godmother of wishes and visions-- had given Danika some sobering news last month. Either get the Bad Five hitched, or great misfortunate would befall them.
Not like Danika hadn’t made many love matches already. Her resume was quite hefty. Why just last week Mr. Fee Fi Fo Fum himself had fallen madly for the wicked witch of the West. Next month was to be their nuptials. Danika had received her invitation to the gala only today. And last month she’d introduced Tweedle-De to La-Di-Dah, sparks ignited, and Danika was fairly certain there’d be a second wedding in the future.
Danika was good at love matches when given sufficient time, but love matches weren’t as simple as poof there she is, kissy kissy, and sailing off into the sunset. Finding a perfect mate took patience and due diligence. To suddenly be told the Bad Five had less than a year to find their mates... the thought twisted Danika’s stomach in knots.
Not like Danika hadn’t tried already, many times. But love was much more than chemistry; it was a melding of hearts and minds. Of seeing someone and knowing unequivocally she or he was it.