Fangs a million, p.1
Fangs a Million, page 1
Contents
Fangs Title
Also by Tammie Painter
Praise for The Circus of Unusual Creatures Series
Some Troupe Members You'll Meet
Your Entry Tickets
Prologue - The Pixie Beauty Squad
1 - A Satyr-ical Announcement
2 - Sherman's Shine-O-Rama
3 - Package Warnings
4 - Buttering Up the Brownie
5 - The Lemon is in Play
6 - You're Being Watched
7 - Champagne Dreams
8 - A Lovely Shade of Guacamole
9 - Stupid Horn Head
10 - Attack Your Co-Workers Day
11 - They Shoot Centaurs, Don't They?
12 - Messing up the Clean
13 - A Flowing Locks Kind of Look
14 - President of Book Relations
15 - The Lemonade Hero
16 - A Flurry of Fury
17 - Show Time?
18 - The Ripple Effect
19 - Princely Magic
20 - Unicorn Fleas
21 - Joining the Clown Show
22 - Wardrobe Malfunction
23 - Broken Wings
24 - Ice Picks & Unicorn Horns
25 - Making the Most of Primping
26 - Nut Money
27 - Hand Over the Cotton Candy!
28 - Spruce-Scented Forests
29 - They Bleed Glitter
30 - Ally or Ogre Boy?
31 - Tickled Pink
32 - Ben Franklin Tingles
33 - Glove Will Find a Way
34 - Aching Jaws & False Teeth
35 - Fairy Toes
36 - Putting Two and Two Together
37 - The Tarantella Two-Step
38 - Paying Debts
39 - Lemonade and Dragon Eggs
40 - Pixie Pepper Cookies
41 - The Admirer
A Few Things I Musth Tell You
If You Enjoyed This….
Free Stuff!!
Go On, Try a Sample
About the Author
Keep Reading
Copyright
Fangs a Million
A Circus of Unusual Creatures Mystery
Book 3
by Tammie Painter
ALSO BY TAMMIE PAINTER
The Undead Mr. Tenpenny: Cassie Black #1
The Uncanny Raven Winston: Cassie Black #2
The Untangled Cassie Black: Cassie Black #3
The Unwanted Inheritance of the Bookman Brothers
Hoard It All Before
Tipping the Scales
Fangs A Million
Day Sixteen: A Supernatural Thriller
Domna: A Serialized Novel of Osteria (Six-Part Series)
The Trials of Hercules: Book One of the Osteria Chronicles
The Voyage of Heroes: Book Two of the Osteria Chronicles
The Maze of Minos: Book Three of the Osteria Chronicles
The Bonds of Osteria: Book Four of the Osteria Chronicles
The Battle of Ares: Book Five of the Osteria Chronicles
The Return of Odysseus: Book Six of the Osteria Chronicles
13th Hour: Tales from Light to Midnight
Discover the full list of Tammie’s titles at
https://books.bookfunnel.com/tammiepainterbooks
PRAISE FOR THE CIRCUS OF UNUSUAL CREATURES SERIES
WHAT READERS HAVE to say about
Hoard It All Before (Book 1)
and
Tipping the Scales (Book 2)
Very funny and laughs out loud will be heard when reading it…this was so good l read it in one sitting couldn't put it down
—Ken, Goodreads Reviewer
The series keeps getting better
—Tsippi, Bookbub Reviewer
What a stunning sequel! This was a charming tale of dragons, deception, and dastardly deeds, and I loved every minute of it.
—Jonathan Pongratz, author of Reaper
What a truly FUN, lighthearted read, full of fantastical and lovable characters! …intricately woven with twists and kept me guessing until the very end.
—Abbie, Goodreads Reviewer
What fun!
—Sarah Angleton, author of White Man’s Graveyard
The book is an excellent read, very funny - I was kept on the edge of my seat not knowing what was going to happen next. Well worth reading and looking forward to the next installment in this hilarious series,
—Neil, Goodreads Reviewer
I've already read 'The Undead Mr Tenpenny' by Tammie Painter, so I was expected lots of humour, characters with depth, and a good fun romp. She didn't disappoint. This is an easy, fun read, packed with fascinating details of the new world she's created.
—Kim M. Watt, author of Baking Bad
SOME TROUPE MEMBERS YOU'LL MEET
BENNY - A BEHEMOTH who enjoys a good scrub
Boris - A brownie who does things by the book
Charlie - A chimera you won’t see much of
Conrad - A centaur who likes to gossip, husband of Flora
Cordelia Quinn - A human who handles Duncan…barely
Darius Dumble - A dwarf who knows how to make a deal
Duncan (aka "Brutus Fangwrath, Deadliest Dragon in the West") - A dragon who loves omelets, buckets of wine, and sleuthing
Ely Zinzendorf (aka "Zin") - A satyr who owns the Circus of Unusual Creatures
Fergus - A chain-smoking unicorn who has a bad hair….week
Finnegan & Florian Flynn - Leaders of the Flying Flynns, a trapeze act full of elves who shape shift into squirrels
Flora - A centaur who mixes herbal remedies, wife of Conrad
Franz & Frida Flynn - Twins with plans for a nutty future
Gregg - A gremlin with a kitten obsession
Helga - A brownie who has a crush
Humphrey - A brownie who also has a crush
Molly - A miniature centaur who’s handy with needle and thread
Pepper - A cyclops with a penchant for gourmet cooking
OTHER PLAYERS
The Admirer - A guy who pays a lot of attention to Cordelia
Caraway - A cyclops who learns to hate lemons
Judge Judge Javert - A human with a perfect name for his profession
The Kailin - A unicorn who can get stabby if defendants don’t behave
Prince Swan - A charming circus owner
Damian Ratcher - A real villain
Rata Skursgur - An elf shifter who asks too many questions
Tybalt, Viola, and Beatrice - Dragons in a love triangle
PROLOGUE - THE PIXIE BEAUTY SQUAD
"WHAT HAVE YOU been doing to these things?" the pixie said as she scrutinized my claws.
"Walking, performing, fighting crime," I replied.
A skeptical snort came from the haircut station behind me.
"I’d hardly classify stumbling into the solutions of a couple murders as ‘fighting crime’," said Cordelia, who was probably in a bad mood because her pixie beautician had doubts as to what he could do with her mop of auburn hair. Needing to start somewhere, he’d decided to wash it and was still horrified at how much dirt now stained his formerly pristine wash basin.
"It was more than a couple," I said as the pixie manicurist began filing away the worst of my raggedy claws.
"Quite right, Duncan, and I do appreciate it," said Prince Swan, whose ears were being evaluated for a future re-tipping — the original elfish tips having been surgically removed when he was a child. "As does Ella."
Ella Penn being the love of his life, mother of his future child, and the recent victim of a murder. From which she recovered nicely.
The three pixies passed one another a glance, their eyebrows arched in that catty way pixies do.
"Out with it," Cordelia said as her hairdresser passed another disheartened look at his basin before picking up his scissors.
"Well, we heard Ella left you," my pixie said to Prince. "Maybe she doesn’t believe you’re so innocent after all."
"Ella knows I’m innocent. She’s only gone home for a while." The pixies’ eyebrows arched even more. If this cynicism went any further, their eyebrows were going to end up on top of their heads. Prince sighed impatiently. "It’s a veela tradition that they return home for special training and a good rest before they give birth."
"Mmm hmmm," intoned Prince’s pixie. "You do know that special training and bit of rest normally only happens in their final months, don’t you?"
"You know, maybe you should try coming back from the dead while also growing a baby inside yourself, and see how that leaves you feeling," Cordelia snapped. "I’d bet you’d find it really takes it out of a person."
Prince nodded appreciatively to Cordelia, and her cheeks flamed as red as her hair. The Pixie Beauty Squad caravan went quiet except for the swish swish swish of the file dancing over my claws.
My pixie finally broke the silence when, after I’d soaked my claws in a dish of rose-scented oil, she whispered, "Speaking of fighting crime, you’ve heard the Ogre Boys are back in the area?"
"The Ogre Boys? I didn’t know they were gone. Or that they existed."
"Oh sure, they’re some of the most powerful thugs in the Northwest. Practically every backwards dealing in the region can be traced to them. Dirty dust feathers, what am I saying?" she said with a chuckle. "If the dollar amount is tempting enough, you’ll find Harry Ogre’s fingers in half of the upfront dealings as well."
"So… they’re bankers?"
The p
"Yeah, bankers who, if you don’t make a deposit into your account on time, will seal you permanently in a vault."
"A vault of treasure?" I asked excitedly, because, as a dragon, being locked in a vault filled with gold and jewels and precious metals sounded like a perfectly relaxing way to spend a weekend.
"What? No. Like a sealed vault that’s been encased in cement and sunk to the bottom of the Pacific." Shaking her head, she held up two bottles of varnish. One was deep purple and labeled Dragon Doom. The other, named Serpentine Sparkle, was clear with glittery bits inside. "This one or this one?"
"Doom on the hands and Sparkle on the feet?" I suggested.
"Hardly. Doom for the base, then a quick layer of Sparkle, obviously," the pixie said, as I knew she would. Pixies don’t really like customer input, they merely ask your opinion to make you feel silly. As she began applying a coat of Dragon Doom to my claws, she continued, "Anyway, the Ogre Boys control a good portion of the illegal activities in the region, and if anyone crosses them, well, let’s just say you won’t see that person again."
"Because they become invisible?"
"Duncan, can you seriously be that obtuse?" asked Cordelia, who was now wielding the hairdresser’s scissors. She’d already chopped away a few chunks from the ends of her hair and had another thick section in hand, while her pixie scrubbed at his basin. And judging by his sniffling, he may have been crying as he did so. "The Ogre Boys will kill anyone who gets in their way—" snip "— screws up their operations—" snip "—or rats them out to the authorities." And with one final snip, she turned her head one way then the other to check herself in the mirror. She gave a satisfied nod and slapped the shears onto the pixie’s workstation.
"Ah, so they’re rat shifters," I said. In my defense, the fumes from the Doom varnish in the tight confines of the caravan were leaving me a little loopy.
"Do you put up with this every day?" the manicurist pixie asked my handler.
"Every day, afternoon, and night."
"That would explain your anger issues. If you want to book a spa day with us, I’d be more than willing to give you half off the price." She swept a final coat of Serpentine Sparkle over my claws, then told me, "You’ll have to let that dry for at least an hour."
"An hour? But Pepper stops serving in twenty minutes," I said, distressed at the thought of missing out on the grilled asparagus omelet she’d had on today’s menu board.
"Sparkle doesn’t have the fast-drying stuff in it like Doom does. An hour, or the whole job will be ruined," she said, her hard stare daring me to go against her.
"This is sabotage, you know."
"I don’t think there’s such a thing as omelet sabotage," Prince noted.
"Cruelty to animals?"
"I don’t think missing a meal because your nails had to dry counts as animal abuse," said Cordelia.
"Clearly, we have different definitions of what constitutes abuse," I said as my belly rumbled with hunger and my head swam with varnish fumes.
1 - A SATYR-ICAL ANNOUNCEMENT
AS SOON AS the pixies released me from my dizzying confinement, I made a dash to the Cantina. And yes, my steps did feel lighter with my toe claws trimmed and tidied. But that feeling of lightness crashed to the ground like a drunken pegasus when I saw Pepper’s sign was turned to the closed side. Dozens of troupe members were pushing away empty plates, patting satisfied bellies, or getting up from their tables.
My wings sagged, but I had little time for moping as several people jostled past me.
"Come on, Duncan," said Cordelia, who had escaped the pixies in time for dinner. Some of which she still wore on her shirt. "Zin’s got some news for us."
There were too many other humans around for me to ask what kind of news, so I joined the river of people to the Tent, where Zin, owner of Zinzendorf’s Circus of Unusual Creatures, stood in the center ring. His horns glinted with a fresh polish. Even the fur on his haunches looked recently brushed, and I wondered how many tangles and burrs the Pixie Beauty Squad had had to fight through.
"It’s not Opening Day Eve," said Boris. The diminutive leader of the brownies was dressed in his usual crisp, white, button-down shirt and carrying a clipboard that held the roster of teams and nightly tasks for his cleaning crew. "Why’s he making a speech?"
"Don’t know, but he doesn’t look happy about it," said Cordelia as we found a place off to the side to watch.
"Zin’s not exactly known for his giddy smiles," I said, placing Boris on my shoulder so he could see better. "Unless ticket sales have tripled expectations, that is."
"First," Zin began once most everyone had taken a seat, "I want to say that the last run was fantastic."
Our last run having been on the other side of the Cascade Mountain Range in the high desert town of Sisters. A run that had indeed gone well. Dull even.
CORDELIA: Dull? Why? Because no one died?
DUNCAN: I suppose my definition of excitement has changed after recent events.
"As you know," Zin continued, "Eugene was not our next scheduled show after Sisters, but plans have changed and I thank you for being so flexible." The change of plans had actually worked out perfectly for me. The Pixie Beauty Squad wasn’t going to be anywhere near where we were originally scheduled to perform, and I couldn’t have withstood another minute of my tattered claws. "You might have also noticed that, although the barrier is fully in place," he said meaningfully, "we’re closer than usual to our neighboring show."
A fact that was hard to miss. Normally, traveling circuses are kept at least three miles apart to avoid competing too strongly for audiences. But for this run, set up close enough to us that we shared a barrier on one side, was Swan’s Spectacular, now managed by Prince Swan. I’d always thought Zin’s Tent was big — one of the largest I’ve performed in, anyway — but having Swan’s gargantuan big top next door was like placing a whale next to an anchovy.
"Prince Swan is new to running a circus," Zin continued, "and he and his troupe need mentoring. I’ve agreed that we will take on that mentoring."
This raised many grumbles from the crowd. Zin had to know we didn’t like working with others. It’s not that we’re rude (well, except for the noises Benny’s digestive system makes); it’s just that we had our own ways of doing things and didn’t like having to explain those ways to others. Also, truth be told, most of us thought the Swan’s show was a bit pretentious. Who needs an artistically acrobatic interpretation of some old fable when you could have a mini-centaur square dancing on the back of a dragon? I mean, really? Which would you prefer?
"We’re not doing any of that froufrou dance stuff," Blaise complained. "Prancing, high kicks, quick turns, that’s our specialty. None of that weird arm waving and silly posturing." So said the centaur who flourished his headdress with more gusto than any of the others.
"Yeah, and we’re not putting on those skintight body suits their clowns wear," insisted Darius, head of the Dumble Dwarf Clown Show.
Even though the Dumbles’ routine was physically rigorous and they kept themselves in top shape for it, I had to agree with Darius. Because, trust me, you do not want to see Dumble bits being squeezed into body-hugging clothing.
The troupe’s protests grew louder. Zin had lost his audience, but Conrad, our lead centaur, marched up behind him and shouted, "Silence!" The noise immediately hushed. "If you’d listen to Zin, maybe you’d realize you’re overreacting to all of this."
Zin, not looking very pleased that it took Conrad to get respect from his own employees, cleared his throat before saying, "Thank you, Conrad. I was only letting them voice their concerns. And now that I’ve heard those concerns, I can tell you they are indeed unfounded."
Gossipy whispers frolicked across the crowd.
"We are not going to be training ourselves to do the Swan’s acts. They are going to observe us. They are going to learn from us. We are going to be teaching them how a show is done. After all, we’ve got the best show in the region, don’t we?"
