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The True Bride and the Shoemaker: The Pippington Tales, #1
The True Bride and the Shoemaker: The Pippington Tales, #1
The True Bride and the Shoemaker: The Pippington Tales, #1
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The True Bride and the Shoemaker: The Pippington Tales, #1

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There is magic in the streets of Pippington, but most people are too busy to notice.

Shoemaker Peter Talbot needs a little magic. Cheap, factory made, shoes are putting him out of business, his nagging sisters will never let him rest, and his efforts to find true love are constantly thwarted by worldly fickleness. However, the gift of a wild primrose and a shipment of rare griffin skin are about to change everything…When beautiful handmade shoes begin appearing in his shop every morning, Peter is determined to find the source. What he finds instead will be far more exciting and wondrous than he could ever imagine.

The True Bride and the Shoemaker is the first of The Pippington Tales, introducing a city full of magic and everyday fairy tales for those willing to see them.

PublisherL. Palmer
Release dateApr 20, 2016
The True Bride and the Shoemaker: The Pippington Tales, #1
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    The True Bride and the Shoemaker - L. Palmer

    Act I

    The Shoemaker

    Chapter 1

    When Peter Talbot lifted the mound of dirt carrying a wild primrose, he was not thinking of magic and fairytales. His mind was filled with the fine curvature of Miss Adeline Winkleston’s arches, of her small and delicate toes, of her dainty foot dangling from her fine ankle, of her smooth and perfectly proportioned heel. There were few pleasures greater than molding a shoe to cushion and support her feet.

    The primrose’s delicate petals swayed and danced in the wind as he patted the dirt into a pot and added water. Peter steadied his bowler hat over his thinning hair as he rose and looked out at the meadow. The field of daffodils was a pleasant sight, but hardly matched the lone primrose’s fragile beauty. The flower would now have a better home on Adeline Winkleston’s window sill, if the lady accepted it.

    Peter meandered along the dirt path leading out of the meadow and onto the cobblestone streets of Pippington. The city had grown much in his twenty-five years. New automobiles puttered along while horses trudged on, pulling old, warped carts. The roar of a crowd echoed from the arena as men far braver than Peter raced dragons around the track. Even if Peter could afford a ticket, he preferred to avoid such spectacle. Though, today, racing a dragon seemed easier than approaching Adeline’s door.

    Peter kept on his path and walked past factories lining the edge of town, then by the old brick apartments and shops filling the southern region of the city. This was far from the northern bluffs, with mansions and high-rise penthouses rising over Chalice Lake. The cliffs dipped down and became the wharf and docks filled with barges, fishing boats, and the common sort of people Peter understood.

    Adeline herself was better than common. Her doorstep lay on Nightingale Lane, in the midst of Midtown, among the rows of tightly packed houses mixed in with banks, boarding schools, and profe