Cover art by Ivan Shavrin

You may recall recently our excitement over Alex Knight’s cosy comedy goblin fest Wriggly Little Hands?

Nils reviewed it here, and it featured as Gray’s Top Pick back in April. Our editor Beth has been trying to remain objective, but she came out of freelance-retirement to copy edit Wriggly so it’s most definitely a project close to her heart.

Now, Alex has written a prequel novelette to tide us over before Oli’s next adventure (which he’s assured us he’s working on currently) called A WRIGGLY LITTLE ASSISTANT. The good news is, we have an exclusive excerpt to share with you today. The even better news is – you can get a free copy by signing up to Alex’s newsletter! (Current subscribers – checkout the edition of the newsletter that came out 9th October). You can even purchase a copy on Amazon if you mistrust free things (print versions are releasing soon).

So, as usual, let’s check out the official blurb, then dive right in to the excerpt:

Jobediah has finally become a wizard, and all it took was hard work, determination, and one itsy bitsy pact with a malicious nightmare entity. But now he’s free to pursue his interests, like being admired, and serving as a professor at the esteemed Worwick College for Wizardry, Werebeastery, and Welding. Still, there is that pesky bit about endless servitude to the nightmare entity.

It’s a good thing Jobediah has a plan to escape and keep his magic in the process. All he has to do is brew a potion so powerful no one’s managed it—and try not to destroy the college, or himself, in the process.

Simple, right?

If you’re curious about the mischief and mayhem of the World of Wriggly, this novelette is the perfect place to start. If you’re already familiar with the world—through Wriggly Little Hands or other novels—this story serves as a prequel and a fun side quest.

Cover art by Ivan Shavrin

Chapter One
A Particularly Helpful Wizard

It’d been a lovely picnic until the abomination appeared. Merran had orchestrated everything from the freshness of the food to the time of day (so as to catch the college in the best light). He’d planned the perfect date, and it’d all been going exactly to said plan… except for the bit where reality was eviscerated just above the sweet cakes to vomit forth an abominable assemblage of flesh, claws, and acidic drool.

Now, instead of leaning in for a kiss, Sharyl was screaming in terror and disappearing across the far field. But that was just how things went at Worwick College for Wizardry, Werebeastery, and Welding. Turned out, dissecting the fabric of space-time in order to ring out every drop of mana came with a few consequences. 

The most present of those consequences tipped the remains of the picnic basket—and then the basket itself—down its maw. A boiling belch followed, washing over Merran with enough force his bangs were blown back and briefly set alight.

Probably he should have fled in the same direction as Sharyl. Probably he should have done a lot of things, but the fear seizing control of him had decided the best course of action was to stand really still, shiver a bit, and if he lived long enough, possibly toss in a hair-raising scream for good measure. 

The toad-ape abomination charged him, gaping maw near dragging on the ground. Merran made a valiant effort to save himself by flinching away with a yelp.

A sound not unlike someone slurping a gallon of molasses in reverse cut through the disaster of a picnic. A wash of waving light followed.

“What seems to be the… ah.” Tenured Professor Jobediah Kensworth Kensman, Wizard, Theoromancer, He Who Has Beheld the Unknowable Truth and Known It—and this semester’s professor of Ritual and Arcane Applications 101—frowned at the sight before him. “Excuse me!” he snapped, voice booming through his bushy beard with a bit of an added thunderclap.

Merran had finally managed to work his way up to screaming in terror. It twisted into something a bit closer to a question, and his brow furrowed, as he looked to Jobediah.

“Not you. You.” The wizard-professor fixed a fierce, intelligent gaze on the abomination. “The ingestion or consumption of students enrolled in more than four credit hours worth of courses is expressly prohibited.” He snapped his fingers and the abomination was rooted in place by an unseen force. Jobediah paused as well, just for a moment, to raise an eyebrow at Merran.

“T-t-twelve!” the man stammered through his scream. “I’m signed up for twelve credit hours!”

“Ah, very good!” Jobediah gave a tidy clap-clap in the direction of the toad-ape. The ground beneath it burst as a raking lash of roots tore free. They wrapped around the monster’s legs, its shoulders, then dragged it howling into the soil. The ground sealed back up and even the tossed dirt was covered by fresh sprouts of grass.

“Th-th-thank you, Professor,” Merran managed.

“Ah, I remember now. You’re in my class, yes?”

“Y-yes…”

Jobediah, Wielder of the Infinite Curriculum Vitae and First to Pass Judgement, fixed Merran with a stern look.

“Essays are due Wednesday.”

A Wriggly Little Assistant is available for free when you sign up to Alex’s newsletter or is available to purchase on Amazon now!