New release sample: SHRUNK: THE EXILE OF MAURICE

 

Downstairs in the main room, he made a bumpy landing on the counter. His wings were still damp. The thought of visiting Holly's dreams didn't exactly fill him with anticipation. More like mild curiosity. He had watched her at work, surrounded by hordes of kids with runny noses and screechy voices during afternoon story hour. What if her dreams were nightmares of being stampeded by kids?

"Okay, buster, gimme what you got." He tapped on the side of the Wishing Ball.

The dark, rainbow-streaked, metallic surface immediately grew misty. Good sign. He had feared he would have to dredge up what little magic remained after keeping himself from turning into a Fae-cicle, to activate it.

The mist glowed, then settled into a flowing expanse of white, the focus sharpening. He looked at an outdoor scene with falling snow all around Holly.

What was she doing outside? Had the weather gotten worse, and she was lost, walking home from the library? The fear on her behalf startled him, so he backed off from the Wishing Ball. The glow died and the image faded.

"Get a hold on yourself, boy." He wondered if his scheming ability and common sense had been shrunk, along with his size and his magic. If Holly was lost, he could use the Wishing Ball to find her, and tell Angela, who would send help.

He stepped up to the Wishing Ball again and asked it to show him Holly. The image returned, gaining more resolution, until he looked at the back porch of a house not far from Divine's Emporium, sitting level with the park, instead of on a hill above. It was a little crackerbox house, with light spilling from the open back door. The woods were maybe fifteen yards away. A dusting of snow on a gentle breeze made it a Christmas postcard scene.

Holly slowly walked across her backyard toward the trees. She wore a parka with the hood down, unzipped, and held pieces of bread in one bare hand and a sectioned apple in the other. The falling snow caught on her hair and her eyelashes, sparkling in the light spilling out of the open door. She stopped halfway across the backyard and stood so still Maurice thought she might eventually end up a snow statue. Her breath escaped in slow tendrils of mist. 

One doe, then a second, then a third, appeared from the shadows of the trees and crept across the snowy yard toward Holly. Maurice held his breath, waiting, anticipating the moment when they would eat from her hands. Bits of melting snow dusted her hair and face with diamond sparkles, and the cold brought roses to her cheeks. Her eyes glowed as the deer nibbled at the bread and apples and then nuzzled at her hands.