“OW,” I YELPED when a thick hardcover book glanced off the side of my head and landed with a thump on the floor. I glared up at the tiny, brown, stick-like faerie that grinned back from the top shelf of the bookcase. “That hurt!”
The peri snickered and disappeared from sight. Rubbing my injured head, I bent to pick up the heavy copy of Moby d**k that bore several scorch marks on the front cover. He couldn’t have found a smaller book to clobber me with?
“That thing is a menace,” cried the middle-aged man with a tragic comb-over, who rushed at me. The proprietor of Howell’s Used Books snatched the tome from me and ran his hand over the damaged cover. Hugging the book to his chest, he said, “Don’t just stand there. Do something.”
I looked up at the spot where the peri had been and let m
