Harpy Spawn by S. H. Marpel

Sunset found me trying to understand why the small herd I was caring for was nervous and bawling.

It wasn't long before I saw what they were looking up at. Or rather, who.

Three human-sized females, each with broad wings, were circling the herd, as if looking for their evening meal.

As I saw them, they spied me – and started dropping from the sky right toward the spot I stood on.

Since I couldn't outrun them, I just stood there so see if I was going to die in the next few moments.

But no, they landed softly a few yards away and folded their wings to run toward me –with smiles on their faces.

The next moment I was being smothered in tiny kisses and nearly suffocated with strong hugs.

“Pa!” Father!” “Daddy!” were all I heard.

How I managed to somehow sire three full-grown goddesses was the first question that came to mind.

The second was how I was going to explain them to my fiancé...

Excerpt:

 Three buxom women with wings dropping out of the sky isn't usual.

That they each claimed I was their father was also odd.

After I got out of their loving embrace to look each of them over, I realized that they were going to have to get some clothes.

Technically, their short harpy feathers clothed them in what normally looked like a dance leotard from any distance. Close up and you could see the details all too clearly. These were a blond, a redhead, and a dusky brunette – all too used to going around au natural.

Harpies have that going for them through history.

I did notice that each of them had a small gold-streaked green pendant on a choker around their neck.

Which meant – they were somehow connected to the Ghost Hunters. It also meant that Harpy herself was involved in this.

One of them took my walking stick out of my hand and went ahead on the path toward my tiny-home cabins. This was so the other two could keep their loving and affectionate arms around me as we walked.

They'd each tucked their wings behind them, making them basically disappear into their own athletically built backs. So I could put my arms around each of their shoulders while they encircled my waist with their own arms. This also gave me good view of how well developed each of them were. For goddesses, I mean.

Yes, Harpies were each goddesses. It's been this way all through history.

The more immediate history I wanted to know is why they claimed me to be their father and how that could ever happen.

For now, we just walked toward my small cabins. A gorgeous head laying on each of my shoulders by doting teenaged females, with the third regularly turning her to glimpse at me and her two sisters. Smiles on everyone's lips.

They were quiet, for now. And the peaceful sounds of twilight moved in around us. The scents of fall pasture and nearby woods eased into my nose while the temperature slowly dropped, following the now-disappeared sun.

I concentrated on following the path and ensuring that the two young and barefoot women didn't accidentally step on wild rose or honey-locust thorn sprouts. Not that I had to worry, though, harpy skin was tougher than rhino hide. Still, my experiences with caring for humans, especially nude female humans, made me cautious and careful.

Once we reached the cabins, I had them wait outside my writer's cabin while I got them each one of my long-sleeved flannel shirts and a pair shorts or cut-offs from the small selection I somehow had on hand.

That was for my benefit – so I could concentrate on what they were saying...

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