New release sample: SHRUNK: THE EXILE OF MAURICE

 Maurice barely restrained himself from cheering when one doe licked Holly's cheek, as if in farewell, before she turned to go back into the woods.

"That's pretty cool." He watched the does meander back the way they had come. Something ached inside him when Holly's delighted glow vanished with the deer. She turned and trudged back into the warmth of her little house.

She shed her coat, leaving it on a hook by the back door. The Wishing Ball's images changed, following her through the house as she checked doors and windows and turned off lights. In the kitchen she made herself a big mug of hot chocolate, rinsed out the pan, then turned off the light and headed upstairs.

He liked it that she made hot chocolate the old-fashioned way, with real milk and cocoa and sugar. He watched until she went into her bedroom, put the mug on her nightstand, and snagged a dark blue flannel nightgown off a hook on the back of her bedroom door.

"Gonna be here a while," he muttered, for the sake of whoever might be watching him. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of being a Peeping Tom.

When Holly stepped into her bathroom, he scurried away from the Wishing Ball. He scrounged in the shelves under the cash register until he found a couple pads of paper and a quilted book cover that needed mending. With his back to the Wishing Ball and whatever Holly was doing, he dragged them back and set up a couch to sit in comfort. By the time he had everything to his satisfaction, Holly was safely in her nightgown and padding back to her bedroom, barefoot.

Maurice sighed relief and settled down on the makeshift couch. Holly climbed into bed, plumped her pillows against the headboard, and pulled the covers up past her waist. That glow returned to her face as she reached for the book, three inches thick, at the very least, sitting on her nightstand.

In the glow of the lamp, Maurice could read the age-darkened spine. "Robin Hood, huh? And the really old stories, too," he muttered. "Okay, good choice. But watching you read a good book isn't my idea of quality entertainment, y'know?"

Holly turned three pages, before he decided this was even less thrilling than watching paint dry. His wings were dry and warm again, so he flew upstairs to check in with Angela. Maybe she was done with her book, and he could talk her into playing poker.

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.

New release sample: SHRUNK: THE EXILE OF MAURICE

 First he went to the town square to sit in the gazebo and listen to the carolers, then watched children sledding. He helped Angela take a load of presents for the town Christmas party to Eden, the community center.

He saw Holly, dressed up as one of Santa's elves, gather up children and take them into one of the smaller rooms for storytelling. Remembering what Angela had told him about getting to know her, he followed her and listened. The children sure loved her. The littlest ones fought to get to sit on her lap during the storytelling. He helped distribute cookies to the children in the storytelling room and then pass out presents. Lanie did a stint in the main room, performing her comedy routine. Later her wheelchair basketball team did an exhibition in the smaller gym. Maurice was impressed.

He was even more impressed when walking through the lobby of Eden gave him odd vibrations through his feet. He circled the floor until he found the spot, then stood there, trying to figure out what he was feeling. While he didn't have magic, obviously he could still feel where something magical had happened.

"Maurice?" Jane paused in the doorway to Eden's office. "I don't even want to know what's going on, but …" She gestured at the floor where he stood. "Do you feel the residue from our fight this summer?"

"What kind of fight?"

"Who're you?" a big, wheat-haired, gray-eyed guy asked, stepping into the doorway behind Jane. He rested a hand on Jane's shoulder and gave Maurice one of those challenging glances guys understood and women thought were stupid.

"This is Angela's Maurice," Jane said. "Maurice, this is Kurt."

"O -- o -- kay. Who clipped your wings?"

"Furlough for Christmas," Maurice said with a shrug.

That got a grin from both of them. When he asked about the fight Jane mentioned, Kurt said they were on a deadline. If he wanted to hear the story, maybe he wanted to help them with an errand?

Maurice went with them to drop off toys Kurt had made for the children at Neighborlee Children's Home. The pride and affection in Jane's voice when she told Maurice that made something ache inside him. Other than his parents, had anyone ever talked about him with that sound in their voices, that look in their eyes?

On the way there and back, Kurt and Jane told him about the interdimensional invader they referred to as Big Ugly, who made regular attempts to either destroy the guardians of Neighborlee or rip a hole through to Earth from another dimension. Now Maurice was even more impressed. Neighborlee was no quiet little nowhere town where he had to serve his sentence. It was a pivotal point holding closed one of the dangerous weak spots between multiple dimensions. His respect for Angela tripled.

He met a friend of Angela's at the orphanage. Jon-Tom made his living as a carpenter and had brought hand-made wooden toys for the children. Jon-Tom offered Maurice a ride back to Divine's, which was convenient because Kurt and Jane were going to Felicity and Jake's house for Christmas Eve.

Angela had a houseful of guests, including Holly, Diane, Ken and Jo. There were people at tables in four rooms, set with mismatched dishes and every chair in the shop. Everyone brought a dish to share and they set up a long buffet table in the main shop room in front of the tree.

Maurice was introduced as a distant cousin of Angela's, and welcomed as if he belonged. He didn't mind his total lack of magic as the evening passed in laughter and singing and storytelling. Until he heard the clock strike the quarter hour. He looked up to realize it was 11:15. Where had the day gone?

He hung back as everyone started making their farewells, as if the chime was a signal. It pleased him and humbled him, when almost everyone made the effort to find him and say good-bye.

"Nobody asked how long I was hanging around," he said to Angela, when she stood in her open doorway, watching the last carload of guests drive away.

"I told them you were only able to stop to visit today, but you would be back." She turned to rest a hand on his shoulder. "Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah. It was... I've never had a day like this. Thanks for the Christmas present, Angela." He inhaled sharply as he heard the first bong of the clock chiming midnight.

"Merry Christmas, Maurice." She closed her eyes, and a single tear trickled down her cheek as silver magic sparks swirled around Maurice and swept him away.

"Merry Christmas, Angie-baby," he whispered, and opened his eyes to find himself back in his apartment hutch. He wore the same clothes but shrunken down, with his wings fluttering as if frightened by being separated from him all day.

He couldn't decide if looking ahead three months to another day at normal size, without magic, was a good thing, or more depressing than words could express.

New release sample: SHRUNK: THE EXILE OF MAURICE

 

Christmas Eve day, Maurice woke up on a couch in Angela's furniture room, at full size. To his relief (and embarrassment), the footed pajamas he had borrowed from a Skipper doll grew along with him, so he wasn't caught in the buff downstairs. More important, his wings were gone.

He let out a howl of jubilation and snapped his fingers to call his clothes to him. There were things he wanted to do. The howl turned to dismay: he had about as much magic as the dust bunnies underneath the couch.

When Angela came downstairs a few moments later, wrapped in a long blue quilted robe, she looked unruffled and serene. She sat on the couch with him and wrapped an arm around him. Maurice didn't feel at all embarrassed to rest his head on her shoulder. At least he didn't whimper or sob like a toddler.

"I'm sorry, Maurice. It was all I could manage." She patted his head.

"You gave me my body back?" He sniffled and tried to smile. "Well, at least I'm not stuck looking like a joke, but how am I going to manage the next twenty-three months without any magic at all?"

"Oh, you misunderstand." She nudged him to sit up, then took hold of his hands. "I tried to persuade Asmondius that you deserved to be yourself for at least one day, because you had made so much progress. From midnight until midnight at Christmas Eve, spring and fall equinox, and summer solstice, you will go among Humans as a man, but with no magic. I'm sorry." She blinked, and Maurice was disturbed to realize she fought tears.

She was sorry? For him?

"Hey, no, actually this is great. I can run around town, see things, talk to all the people you've had in the shop. It'll be fun." He stood up and posed in his footed pajamas with pink puppy dogs on them. "But Angie-baby, I gotta get me some decent clothes."

"You know where the clothes room is." Her usual humor returned to her eyes. "Get yourself dressed while I whip up a big breakfast for us. You have a lot to do today."

"Great." He rubbed his hands together, pretending anticipation. "What's on the list?"

"Anything you feel like doing." She graced him with a serene smile, just a touch of smirk, and glided out, heading back upstairs. 

Maurice found jeans and a bulky black sweater, and boots in just his size. They weren't the GQ quality of clothes he was used to, but he didn't care. To walk from one room to another, up the stairs to Angela's quarters, and use normal-size dishes thrilled him.

Audiobooks, Anyone?

 I'm busily working on narrating my books to turn them into audiobooks.

Right now the only title available is LIVING PROOF (That No Good Deed Goes Unpunished), Book 4 in the Neighborlee series. However, I recently finished recording THE KINDNESS CURSE, a fantasy, Book 1 in my Magic to Spare Series. I hope to have it loaded and start being distributed by the end of the month. After I get all that pesky engineering and editing and audio checking and meeting the distributor's standards out of the way.

Have you heard of Authors Direct?

(Bear with me, there's a reason for these two seemingly unrelated questions .... because they really are related!)

Authors Direct is a free audiobook app, first of all.

But more important, it allows authors to sell their audiobooks directly to their readers, fans and friends. Kind of one-stop-shopping. No need for a subscription to other audiobook services and clubs. Nice, huh?

LIVING PROOF is currently available at Authors Direct -- https://www.Authors-Direct.com

Stay tuned as more audiobooks become available -- and always available at Authors Direct.

New release sample: SHRUNK: THE EXILE OF MAURICE

 "Whew!" Maurice sank back on his heels and didn't complain when the image of Jo and Ken kissing faded from the surface of the Wishing Ball. He mimed wiping nervous sweat from his forehead and looked up at Angela. "Worked out, didn't it?"

"This time." Her expression serene, Angela continued counting out the cash register.

"This time?"

"That was a little heavy-handed, chasing them with the mistletoe."

"Got the job done, didn't it? They finally took the hint, didn't they?"

"Yes, they did. At the end of two years, I think you'll shape up into quite a fine matchmaker. Maybe you'll like it so much, you'll want to stay just as you are." Angela held onto her calm expression while Maurice stared at her, mouth open and eyes wide in dismay. When he let out a moan of utter horror, she burst out laughing, warm and rolling, so it brightened the lights on the Christmas tree. Maurice couldn't help but join in.

"They really do look great together, don't they?" he said, his laughter dying away as a sigh.

"You know, Maurice, I think more important than teaching you to mix some mercy into your justice, Asmondius wanted you to learn to care, to get to know the people you set out to help. You care about Jo and Ken now, don't you?"

"Yeah, they're great. You can't help getting to know folks when you spend your whole day following them around, trying to stop the creepolas from winning out over them." He turned around and took a perch on the bent leg of the dragon holding the Wishing Ball. "So, do I get time off for Christmas, or do I get a new assignment?"

"Let's call it research, rather than an assignment. I want you to get to know Holly." She paused, but Maurice just nodded. "What? No complaints that she'd be impossible to hook up with someone?"

"She's okay. You gotta like a kid like her, the way she cares about books. And I've seen her with the kids at the library." He sighed, his elbows on his knees and his chin on his fists. "The problem is, hooking her up with a guy who's good enough for her. A guy looks at the outside package first -- I know, because I'm a guy. So nobody's gonna stick around long enough to see the gold mine hiding inside that dumpy librarian look."

"So get to know her and figure out a way to make the real Holly shine." She nudged him with the tip of her index finger.

"Okay, okay, I'll think about it."

"Don't think about it. Do it." She stepped back from the counter and crossed her arms, looking down at him. "I want you to find her someone who makes her feel like the special person she is by next Christmas."

"Or else?"

"Or else...you'll be stuck trying to get dates with Barbie for the rest of your life."

Booksigning and Book Fair

Are you going to be in St. Louis this Saturday, July 17?

If so, I would love it if we could meet up, face-to-face.

I'm going to be at the annual Realm Makers Conference, and our BOOK FAIR is Saturday evening, OPEN TO THE PUBLIC, from 7:30 to 10pm in the Versailles Ballroom/foyer, at Sheraton Westport Chalet, 191 W Port Plaza Dr, St. Louis, MO 63146.

So ... can you come? Would love to see you!

New release sample: SHRUNK: THE EXILE OF MAURICE

 

"Miss August, I'm sorry to bring up office matters at a social occasion..." Mr. Myerhausen turned to watch the three security men escort Allistair and Brittney away.

"Sir?" Jo tried not to shiver. Was she going to be fired or her pay docked for being part of the scene that had just taken place?

At least Ken was safe from Allistair.

"Sorry. Mustn't drift like that. Quite a revelation, eh, Ken?"

"Yes, sir." Ken tightened his arm around Jo's waist. "Lucky for us, there wasn't much fallout."

"Fallout. Exactly. Miss August, please make a note when you come in Monday morning, I want security to meet Mr. Somerville at the front door. He is not to be alone for one second while he cleans out his desk. I want Mr. Wilberforce and Miss Spencer to supervise, so he doesn't try to take home anything that belongs to the company. I especially don't want him to have access to his computer before our IT people can get inside and backtrack his larcenous activities.

"Oh, and speaking of IT … ah, there they are." He beckoned to a cluster of people standing on the edge of the crowd. "I regret asking them to work tonight, but they'll get double-time, of course. We need to close down his Internet access before he destroys evidence. And perhaps we'll find whoever has been helping him." A sigh. "I suspected him, but there was no proof. Well, we all heard what he said, didn't we? Good enough reason to fire him immediately."

"Yes, sir," Jo said, and Ken echoed her.

"My dear Miss August, this is a Christmas party. I recommend the two of you enjoy yourselves." He gestured up at the ceiling. "And do take advantage of the mistletoe while you can." Chuckling, he walked away, gesturing for the others who had remained in the room to follow.

"Mistletoe?" Ken tipped his head back. Sure enough, the mistletoe hung directly over their heads. Jo could have sworn it was on the other side of the room just a few minutes ago.

"Orders are orders," she whispered.

"Yes, ma'am." He kept his arm around her waist and drew her up against him.

Jo caught her breath when Ken cupped her cheek, just as he had a few days ago. Her eyes closed and she sighed as his lips brushed warm and soft across her mouth.

The old movies were right. She saw fireworks and heard bells chime. Ken laughed softly, his breath warm across her face. He came back for a second kiss, longer than the first. It stole her breath and put a fist-sized spark into the pit of her stomach.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

New release sample: SHRUNK: THE EXILE OF MAURICE

 "Come on, sweetheart." Allistair chuckled when Jo evaded his grip. His breath smelled like a whiskey factory. "Look, mistletoe. Company policy. Gotta kiss under it." He gestured up at the ceiling and nearly lost his balance.

Jo glared up at the mistletoe, positive now it did follow her. She almost didn't see Allistair make another lunge at her.

"Get off me, you sleazebag!" She spun and brought her knee up, just like she'd seen in a ridiculous martial arts movie last week. Despite being forty pounds heavier than the willowy heroine, she easily hit her target. Then she told herself she'd aimed for Allistair's gut, not ten inches lower.

He oophed and folded over with satisfying speed.

She backed away, heading for the door, and tripped over the lounge chair in a conversation grouping.

Note to self: never walk backwards when in dangerous situations.

"If you walk out of here without giving me what I want," Allistair wheezed, "then don't come to work on Monday."

"You don't have that kind of authority." Jo didn't sound as confident as she wanted. From the smug grin replacing the agony on Allistair's face, he'd heard it in her voice.

"Babycakes, I stole old Kenny's woman and I got his promotion. I always get what I want and nobody ever catches me. You play nice and you give me what I want, or you're canned. And I'll make sure good old Ken gets the blame for all the embezzling I've been doing the last four years." He cackled when dismay crossed her face. "That got you, didn't it? Yeah, I have to hold onto that skinny witch just to beat old Ken, but that doesn't mean I have to suffer for it."

"Witch?" Brittney squealed, and leaped across the room.

Jo darted out of her way and stumbled into another chair.

No, it wasn't a chair.

That was Ken, wrapping his arms around her.

"Are you okay?" His arms were strong and warm and his breath smelled nice and he had such gorgeous eyes, so warm and concerned.

"Yeah. Great." She knew she was grinning like a fool. It didn't matter, because Ken was grinning like a fool now, too.

Allistair and Brittney snarled and screamed at each other, oblivious to their audience, until security arrived with suspicious speed, as if they had been waiting for this moment.

New release sample: SHRUNK: THE EXILE OF MAURICE

 

"When I was younger, we'd call that tactic 'cruising for a bruising,'" Mr. Myerhausen remarked as the Pittsburgh contingent moved away to refresh their drinks.

Ken turned and saw Allistair creeping through the crowd. Ahead of his nemesis, Jo beat a hasty retreat.

"You have my permission to break something vital," Mrs. Myerhausen growled. Her husband gaped at her for a moment, then burst out laughing.

Jo slipped into one of the side rooms, Allistair right behind her.

"Excuse me, sir." Ken hurried after them. Mr. Myerhausen chuckled, and it warmed him to know the old man approved.

Halfway around the perimeter of the room, a red-nailed hand latched onto his arm and pulled him off balance. Ken muffled a curse and caught himself before he swung and popped Brittney in her heavily made-up face.

Tears made her eyes seem twice as large and her bottom lip quivered. "Ken, how could you?" she wailed in her baby-doll voice.

Ken looked around. People were watching, just as he had always feared. However, the looks of disgust were cast at Brittney and the pity was aimed at him. He had always thought it would be the other way around. He laughed as he realized what an idiot he had been for so long, restrained by his fear.

"How can you laugh when you hurt me so badly?" She yanked back her hand as if burned.

"What did I do? Besides sign the divorce papers you filed?" He turned his back on her and continued across the room.

"I just wanted you to prove you really loved me." Her high heels clattered on the tiles as she followed him.

"Oh, yeah, that's logical," someone muttered from behind Ken.

The crowd parted before him, making him wonder what sort of expression he wore. He picked up the pace, and Brittney kept up. How did she manage to run on those toothpick heels? Those claws latched onto his arm. He turned, twisting to free it.

"Ken, honey, you have to listen to me."

"No, I don't. We're not married anymore." He tried to step around her. Brittney slid over, blocking his path.

"But I want you back!" She grabbed onto his arms again.

"I don't want you back." He jerked free.

Brittney stumbled backwards and hit the wall, only three feet away. "You'll pay for that," she snarled, all the helpless squeaks and wails gone. "I'll have you thrown in jail for beating me."

"Is that what's under all that makeup? Allistair's been beating you, but you're afraid to report him to the police?"

"Allistair adores me. He would never lay a hand on me."

Mr. Myerhausen caught up with them, with his wife right behind him. "Then why are you chasing Mr. Jenkins? Haven't you heard the old phrase, what goes around comes around?"

"You don't understand," Brittney wailed, switching back to her helpless mode.

"I understand completely. I may be old, but that helps me see far more clearly than manipulative, self-centered witches such as you give me credit for." His chuckle was cold when Brittney gasped. Her eyes widened and she went pale under her heavy makeup. "Ken, my lad, we should rescue your young lady and have these two party-crashers handled by security." He caught hold of Brittney's arm when she tried to slither past him, and gestured for Ken to lead the way.

Happy Book Birthday!

 

Today is book release day for the 8th Neighborlee, Ohio novel: SHRUNK: THE EXILE OF MAURICE

You can still get it at a discount from Ye Olde Dragon Books, in print and ebook, but hurry! Time is running out!