Dawn Thompson's enchanting tale, Under a Faery Blue Moon continues the antics of Oberon and Puck after the misadventures previously encountered in Belle of the Blue Moon Ball in BLUE MOON MAGIC. Tatiana, Queen of the Faeries, follows after them only to find herself an accidental victim of their pranks. Under a Faery Blue Moon is a humorous tale showcasing the spectacular wit of Dawn Thompson. While this story stands alone on its own merits, fans will eagerly rush to purchase the first anthology to see just what else happens when Oberon and Puck begin their scheming. Ms. Thompson's lyrical writing style opens this anthology on just the right note!
Tatiana traveled the length of the portal between the physical plane and the land of the fey. She had paced there beside the abyss so long she'd worn a trench in the sweet myrtle, and totally trampled the meadowsweet to pollen spores. What was keeping Puck and Oberon? They should have returned long ago. It could only mean trouble. It always meant trouble when those two went off together.
She should have gone with them, of course. But there were good reasons why she hadn't. For one thing, somebody had to keep an eye upon the forest. The mist faeries, dryads, red-caps, and tree spirits were the worst to control under a normal full moon, they were impossible when the blue moon wove its magic. For another thing, Oberon always behaved like a lovesick satyr under a blue moon—or any other kind of moon, for that matter. She was looking forward to a breather, until he took Robin Goodfellow, the inimitable Puck, along. That alone flagged danger. All they had to do was unite two soulmates, just as they had hundreds of times. Now they were behindhand. It did not bode well.
Should she go, or should she stay? Should she tell the others she was leaving or simply slip away letting them think she was hiding somewhere watching them? It was hard work being Queen of the Faeries, without all this drama. There was nothing for it. She would definitely go, and she would most definitely slip away. To announce her departure for however a brief length of time would only give the forest folk license to run amok engaging in all manner of mischief. That decided, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder, took a deep breath, and stepped into the abyss that folded a pleat in time to align the parallel worlds for thru traffic.
Tatiana appeared in the place Puck and Oberon had come to ground, the sculptured gardens of the Dowager Lady Raintree's Mayfair townhouse. Although there were plenty of people milling about, none could see her. Humans couldn't see the fey, unless, of course the fey wanted them to. These humans seemed drunk on something; men and women alike in their cups. While that would not have been amiss at a Blue Moon Ball, their behavior under the influence was quite shocking. Distinguished gentlemen were chasing chambermaids. Countesses and ladies young and old, were reveling with counts and earls and dukes whom Tatiana surmised were not their spouses. With unabashed abandon, the entire congregation—the Dowager Lady Raintree included—ran helter-skelter over the property rooting out the rhododendrons, and trampling primrose beds. It was passing strange, reminding Tatiana of the faery ring revels at home. The handiwork of Puck and Oberon, she had no doubt. She craned her neck in search of the mischievous pair, but there was no sign of them. Had they caused this chaos and fled?
What other explanation could there be? She hadn't come a minute too soon.
Tatiana peeked in through the ballroom terrace doors. Aside from a rotund reveler, who had hefted the punchbowl and was draining it to the dregs, the room seemed empty, everyone having fled to the garden for their debauch pursuits. All except one, Tatiana discovered at a second glance, a pretty young thing with a cap of strawberry-blonde curls, hunched over hugging her knees on the second step of the sweeping ballroom staircase. She couldn't see the girl's face, but she appeared to be crying by the way her shoulders were shaking.
Across the way, the clang of the silver punch bowl hitting the banquet table turned Tatiana's head in time to see the fat man stagger out onto the terrace and reel off into the crowd of milling revelers. Padding toward the discarded bowl, for she was barefoot, Tatiana bent down and sniffed it. It couldn't be! But it was, she took a drop on her finger and tasted it…heart's ease!
Tatiana slapped the skirt of her gossamer spider silk gown with hands balled into fists. "Wild pansy in the claret cup and the humans have drunk from it!" she seethed under her breath, although no one would hear. Faery speech passed as naught but the sighing of the wind to mortal ears. "I knew it! What have those two halfwits done?"