Faery Estate

The house was old and cold. Grandma Lela had not permitted the installation of central heating or any other modern convince. Indeed, the only thing Fran’s Grandmother had allowed was repairs. Lela had insisted that every repair be made immediately, with tools and construction materials as close to the original specification as possible. The results were a house in perfect condition, but without technology of any type.

Fran removed her helmet and hung it from the handlebars of the 2007 blue Harley-Davidson and then removing the laptop from the saddlebags, got off the cycle and walked up the steps of the mansion. As she approached, the ornate oak door opened.

“Good evening, Miss Fran,” said Rachel. “It’s good to see you again. I’ll take that laptop and put in the gatehouse.” The housekeeper set the computer on the ebony table and helped Fran out of her leather jacket. “Everyone is waiting for you in the library.”

Fran took a deep breath; she had forgotten that the gatehouse was the only building on the estate with electricity. “Thank you, Rachel,” she hugged the woman, then removed the cell phone from her belt and placed it beside the laptop. “You’d better take my cell phone, as well; they’re not going to like that piece of technology either.”

Inside the library, Fran studied the expression on each exquisitely beautiful humanlike face. “It’s nice to see you all again. You’ll be glad to know that Grandma Lela’s Will isn’t going to be contested. However, we do have two slight problems.”

“What are those, Fran,” said Russell, the commander of the faery army protecting the estate.

“First, Uncle George’s brats are coming for the summer, they don’t believe in faeries. Second, I need a husband, are any male Fays looking for a wife?”


Word count = 298