TITLE: Fab & Faery
GENRE: Humorous YA fantasy
Do you know what my secret dream is? I'd love to bathe in beads. I'd
fill a tub with rose quartz, citrine, and peridot, and then I'd slip
in with tiny Opaltone crystals in my hair. There'd be lots of candles
and I'd wear glittery makeup. How fab would that be? It could be a
music video! Dorian would probably go for it. He's the lead singer of
Phaeri Wings, my favorite band ever. He's got raven black hair and
green eyes, and he's totally dreamy. Maybe he'd be in the video... I
could pretend to drown in the beads, and he'd come in, his hair all
messy and his chest glistening with sweat, and he'd lift me up, and
then we'd -
Drat. Why is it that someone has to bother you smack-dab in the middle
of the most delicious and meaningful daydream?
"Aren't these beads a bit too girly for a forty-three-year-old?" Mrs.
Honeytree asked, her watery eyes glittering behind her bottle-bottom
I closed my eyes and counted silently to ten. Mrs. Honeytree wanted to
buy her unmarried daughter something that would dazzle the town's
bachelors, and nothing was spicy enough for her. It was obviously time
for my 'desperate mothers of singles' talk, which I had adapted from
an article in Fab'n Faery (that mag is a necessity of life, like lip
"Mrs. Honeytree," I said, lowering my voice so that it sounded all
meaningful and mysterious. "Your daughter deserves these beads."