Excerpt: SEMI-PSEUDO-SUPERHEROES

 

Four days before we were scheduled to leave England, we made a stop in Cornwall at a "select academy for young women" that shall otherwise remain unidentified. Don't for a moment think that description makes it easy to identify, because in England they grow select academies like the average Midwestern front lawn grows dandelions.

The academy was supposed to be one of our first stops when we arrived in England, to go through the archives. Just before our flight, we learned our visit would have to be either postponed or canceled. The academy's librarian, Mum and Pop's contact, Dr. Butterfield, had to take care of an emergency in New Guinea. Nobody else on the staff was qualified to oversee the search. We learned later, that actually meant no one was willing to work with Yanks. They changed their minds fast enough to make Linda Blair's head spin in the opposite direction, when Dr. Butterfield returned and the staff found out who they had snubbed.

We had planned to spend the last day in England doing the shopping-tourist thing (Harrod's, Selfridges, other landmark and famous stores). Instead, we packed up and zipped down the coast to a truly beautiful and rocky and wild section of Cornwall. From the top of the cliff that bordered the school grounds, we could see the coastline and the crashing waves. If it had been near dusk, I might have taken a chance of floating down to the water's edge, maybe get some water-smoothed rocks for souvenirs.

We spent about eight hours at the academy. Dr. Butterfield had already done the preliminary work, narrowing down the specific hand-written, ancient books and loose-leaf stacks of records. My folks "only" had five books to look through out of the enormous, nine-hundred-year-old archives.

Once again, the Zephyr reputation worked for and against my folks. The academy administration finally linked Dr. Butterfield's long-distance research friends with the authors who, according to the papers, had been taking England by storm. The humanities and arts teacher begged Dr. Butterfield to bring my folks down to the school immediately, for an extended stay. She claimed she wanted to provide a "delightful educational experience for the girls," but based on her fan-girl reaction to Mum and Pop, the real reason was for her to go nuts. She was just giddy enough to confess, giggling, that she had “mistakenly” considered them "filthy, foreign intruders, unable to appreciate the treasures of the academy's archives." Until Dr. B returned and revealed his friends' identities.

YeOldeDragonBooks.com

Firsty Freebie Day!

 

In conjunction with the next Quarry Hall novel, KATHRYN, releasing February 15, this month's free book is a Tabor Heights short story, IN THE AIR, ON THE AIR. (Tabor Heights and Quarry Hall are "sister" series, where characters visit back and forth.)

Riley knows how Clark Kent felt about Superman, when Gina seems to like his radio alter-ego, Whit, more than him. What's a mild-mannered DJ to do to win the girl of his dreams?

Claim your ebook at this link: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/vd6jm8pogz

Claim your audiobook at this link: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/h3q19hk8e2

The links are good until February 2.

And if you're too late, you can STILL get a copy of IN THE AIR, ON THE AIR, by buying an ebook or audiobook of KATHRYN at YeOldeDragonBooks.com, until February 28.

Even better -- the book isn't released until February 15, but you can get it NOW, at YeOldeDragonBooks.com and save $$$. Just check our storefront!

New Month -- New Featured Book: SEMI-PSEUDO-SUPERHEROES, Neighborlee, Book 2

February's featured book in the Visitor's Guide to Neighborlee.

What's it about?

High school is rough enough, but the town of Neighborlee, Ohio, has traditions that make it even harder -- culminating in Senior Prank Night, when some seniors try to ensure they never walk through graduation. Lanie and her friends even have to cut short their own Senior Prank Nights to protect their classmates. It's rough being a semi-pseudo-superhero, especially when you don't even get a costume or a cool name.

 Lanie and her friends grow into their duties as guardians. The threats to Neighborlee grow darker as enemies gather from many different directions. Other worlds. Other dimensions. Possibly even the Lost Kids who were stolen years ago.  The guardians do whatever it takes to protect their home.

 And sometimes the guardians pay the ultimate price.

Want to earn points toward free Neighbortlee books?

The quiz will come next week, but you can work ahead by listening to the 1st chapter on the Ye Olde Dragon's Library storytelling podcast. Go to YeOldeDragonBooks.com and click on the podcast link, or listen on your favorite podcast app. That easy.

Check back over the month for excerpts from this book, and for the quiz questions and how to turn in your answers and claim your points.

Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 "We've disturbed something, you think?" Mr. Longfellow shared one of those long looks with Angela that adults were so good at.

"I think it's more along the lines of it taking advantage of all the activity, all the emotions being stirred up, the contention and excitement and the vast possibilities and potentials." Miss Angela sighed and frowned a little as she picked up the pot-belly teapot covered in dragons and unicorns, and refilled all our hot chocolate mugs.

"The weak spot is either under the factory, or somewhere in the park nearby." He winked at Kurt. "Son, you have a very useful and convenient talent. Smart of you, picking up the direction the power leaks were coming from."

I almost said "huh?" and Kurt gave me a big-eyed glance, meaning he felt just as lost. We finally realized Mr. Longfellow meant the itching sensation that was always on the same side of the room. What I wanted to know, and what we were both sure we didn't dare ask, was what they meant by power leaks. What had been disturbed? How could emotions wake up something? What weak spot? Was there like a hole in the ground or something in the park behind the old factory building? Maybe there were tunnels and things in the old quarries that had been turned into state park land that nobody knew about, and the tunnels were going to collapse, like the old mines in the TV show we had seen the week before?

We didn't ask, because we were both pretty sure neither Miss Angela nor Mr. Longfellow would tell us. It was pretty clear that while they appreciated our help, they didn't like us being involved. It sure sounded and felt like something just serious enough, I didn't want to know. I mean, I was only five!

"Whatever we do," Mr. Longfellow said a short time later, as he led me and Kurt out to his truck, to drive us back to school and home, "there will be repercussions. Especially if those outsiders are involved. Picking at the shields."

"What matters is that the holes will be plugged, the cracks filled or patched over," Miss Angela said. I saw for the first time the smile that I learned over the years meant mischief as well as dire consequences for anyone who stood against her.

Kurt and I never did hear what they did. The important thing was that I didn't get in trouble for not coming straight home from school. Some of the girls in my cottage were upset that I got to go to Divine's Emporium without them. We took Kurt to school before Mr. Longfellow drove me home. Kurt got back to school with two minutes to spare before the recess bell rang. Mrs. Longfellow was waiting at the side door of the school that opened out onto the parking lot. She stepped out to meet the truck, climbed up on the running board and kissed Mr. Longfellow through the open window. Then she told him to be careful and held out her hand for Kurt's to lead him back into the building.

"Not gonna ask what I'm supposed to be careful about?" Mr. Longfellow asked, as we pulled out of the parking lot and headed for NCH.

"It's grownup stuff, huh?" I said.

"You got it, honey." He winked at me. "Take my advice and stay a kid as long as you can, okay?"

I must have given him one of those "adults are crazy" looks that most kids are so good at. I definitely didn't understand what he could mean. How could I be anything but a kid as long as I was a kid? He burst out laughing. When he dropped me off in front of the central hall of NCH, Mrs. Silvestri was waiting at the front door. He came around to the passenger door of the truck to help me down, because that big, old-fashioned truck was a little high off the ground. Then he tucked some folded pieces of paper in my hand and told me to share them with Kurt, because we had saved him and Miss Angela lots of headaches and we deserved a reward. When I looked later, I found out he had given me five dollars — for each of us. That took care of a lot of Christmas shopping, and sort of smoothed over the explanation Miss Angela had given Mrs. Silvestri, that we needed advice on Christmas shopping. So we really didn't lie.

Maybe teaching us to keep secrets at such a young age wasn't the best sort of lesson, but when it came to defending Neighborlee, and the sanity of the "ordinary" people of our town, it was an important lesson to learn.

Even more important than escaping punishment for breaking several important rules, the nightmares stopped. Completely. Not even echoes of them or fragments.

Video -- Sneak Peek of the next Neighborlee featured book: SEMI-PSEUDO-SUPERHEROES

 

Just finished making a new video, for my February featured book in the Visitor's Guide to Neighborlee, year-long promotion.

Whaddaya think?

And there's still time to take the latest quiz and earn points toward a free book. Check a couple blog posts ago for the questions and where to send the answers. It's easy! Just listen to the 1st chapter of CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID on the Ye Olde Dragon's Library storytelling podcast, or if you own the book, read the 1st chapter to refresh your memory. You do want to earn points toward free books, don't you?

Come on, it'll be fun!!

Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 

"Kids pay better attention than adults." Mr. Longfellow slouched in his chair with his soup mug cradled in both hands. "Maybe you and I have been so focused on figuring out what's causing all the discord in the air, we've blinded and deafened ourselves. The kids got called up sooner than either of us would like because they aren't distracted."

"What brought you here to talk to me?" Miss Angela said, when Kurt and I just looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to figure out what they were talking about. It wasn't like they were talking over our heads, but there were so many unsaid things behind their words.

"We've been having dreams about people trying to get into our rooms," Kurt said, when he had looked at me and I looked at him, and we silently agreed he would do the speaking. It wasn't telepathy, but we had spent enough time together, we understood each other well enough to just know without words. He told them about how we were getting out of bed before we woke up, to make sure the doors and windows in our cottages were secure.

"How long have you had them?" Mr. Longfellow said.

With careful questioning, we determined that our nightmares had started the night of the community decorating party at the old Bucksby Factory. Some of the movers and shakers in town had decided the factory should be renovated, one room at a time, using only donations and volunteer labor, to turn it into a community center. The lobby had been refurbished, with a new drop ceiling and new floor tiles and new paint, and the decorating party was a combination of celebration, community event, and promotion to get people excited about the possibilities.

Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 Ford Longfellow was a familiar figure, since his family attended Neighborlee Gospel Church and helped out with visiting NCH every other Sunday. He was tall and bald with enormous, bushy eyebrows, and his long whiskers were in that fascinating transition between dark red and white, meaning they were all shades of burgundy, gold, and silver. He worked with the older boys who wanted to be mechanics and engineers, and Mrs. Silvestri had introduced him to us the very first Sunday as a tinkerer. He made his living finding antiques for people and renovating furniture and houses. Mrs. Longfellow taught the third grade at Neighborlee Elementary and was in charge of the school library.

Their daughter Portia was maybe in her mid-twenties at the time we met the family, and even then there was something visibly not quite "there" about her. I heard someone refer to her as "flaky." She just seemed to flitter from one interest to another. Part of her problem might have been that she was super-smart, like Mr. Longfellow, but she couldn't focus on anything.

The other Longfellow daughter was Lenore, also very smart, and involved in dozens of things, inside and outside Neighborlee. She had graduated from Willis-Brooks College, was taking a bunch of correspondence courses toward a master's degree, and could speak five other languages. She was a lot of fun when she visited NCH on Sundays, and she was about the only person I had met who didn't seem surprised at my reading level. We got along great, and she helped me convince the head librarian at the Neighborlee Public Library that yes, I could handle books from the adult section.

Then there was Jinx Longfellow. He was in high school. I never did learn what his real name was. Somewhere along the line, he had earned the nickname of Jinx, and it stuck. Nobody could ever explain why he earned the name, because he was possessed of the most incredible good luck, rather than bad.

Mr. Longfellow knew Kurt a whole lot better than me, just because Kurt was allowed to go with the older boys to the mechanics' group on Sundays.

"I haven't asked them yet, but I could feel the weight on them when they stepped onto my street," Angela said. "It must be grave indeed, to recruit them so young."

"Recruit us for what?" Kurt said.

"What Miss Angela said before," I said, putting down my mug of soup. "We're guardians. Right?"

"Very right," she said.

Neighborlee Quiz #2 -- Earn Points for Free Books!

 

Ready to earn some more points toward free books?

This one will require you to listen to the free audio of Chapter 1 of CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee Book 1. You can access it by going to YeOldeDragonBooks.com and clicking on the Ye Olde Dragon's Library page, and listening. Or go to your favorite podcast app and join Ye Olde Dragon's Library storytelling podcast.

Here are your questions for Chapter 1. Each correct answer is worth 2 points. Send your answers to 2OldeDragons@gmail.com by January 31.

What was Lanie's name when she lived in the orphanage?

What was the name of the orphanage?

Who found Lanie?

Where was she found?

What happened on Lanie's 5th birthday?

Who was Lanie's housemother?

Who was the head of the orphanage?

What was Lanie's "trick" and how did she discover it?

Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 

"Ah ha!" Miss Angela nudged our shoulders, to propel us forward through the door. "Did you discover another facet of your gifts, Lanie?"

"What's a facet?" he asked.

"It's like the flat part of a diamond." Yes, I must confess, there was some scorn in my voice. I had a habit of devouring every book I could get my hands on. After I had learned where the tiny library was at NCH, I had read through the entire encyclopedia. Between the start of school and Thanksgiving. That put me in possession of a great deal of scattered, unrelated bits of knowledge, and I felt rather superior every time one of those pieces became useful.

"Hmm, accurate, if not totally… Well, maybe it is applicable. There are many faces or sides or dimensions to what you can do, or possibly could do someday," Miss Angela said. "There are many futures, full of possibilities, and no true means exist to see clearly which one is for sure." She guided us upstairs, to her living quarters on the second floor. Both of us were astonished and enchanted, because it had never occurred to either of us that someone could actually live in the same building as their business.

While we put together a lunch of sandwiches and soup and hot chocolate, Miss Angela made phone calls. First, she called Mrs. Silvestri and told her not to worry. We had made a slight detour and come to see her about advice for Christmas shopping. She promised Kurt would get back to school before the lunch hour was over. Then she called Mr. Longfellow and asked him to come to the shop. Then she called the school and left a message for Mrs. Longfellow, who was Kurt's teacher, and told her Kurt was helping her and Mr. Longfellow, and might be late getting back to class. That was when we learned Mr. Longfellow's first name was Ford. Then she told us to set the table for four.

We were sitting down to the most incredible chicken soup we had ever had in our lives when Mr. Longfellow came into the shop. He ran right upstairs, knocked once on the door of Miss Angela's apartment and walked in before she answered. Then he flung his long rusty black pea coat onto the ottoman, and slid into the fourth chair at the table.

"Hey, kids. How come I'm not surprised it's you?" He winked, and then nodded to Miss Angela.

Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 Talking didn't solve anything, and didn't do us much good in dispelling the nightmares, either. We both had nightmares that night. On the way to school the next day, we walked at the back of the line so we could have a little privacy to talk. There was only one thing we could think of. Fortunately, it was the smart tactic.

At lunchtime, instead of going back to NCH, Kurt and I ran all the way to Divine's Emporium. Our logic was sound, at least, as sound as two elementary-age children could come up with. We just weren’t sure we were allowed to cross that five-lane street without someone who was over age twelve. Still, we had to do it. Miss Angela was the source of all the comic books that Kurt and I used to formulate our superhero rules, and to learn what we could possibly do someday. She was the source of all the wonderful, magical things in our lives. Besides, she had the Wishing Ball, and the clearest thought in my sleep-deprived mind was that I could make a wish and make the nightmares go away.

Angela was spreading cinders on the flagstone path in front of Divine's Emporium, outside of the wrought iron fence, when we ran up the long street. She stopped and put the bucket down inside the fence and then turned and watched us coming, her arms wrapped tight around herself. The closer we came, the sadder her expression grew, so that by the time we were about ten yards away, we had slowed down. The last thing I wanted in the world was to disappoint Miss Angela, and I was sure Kurt felt the same. By the time we got to within maybe ten feet of her, I was wishing I could turn around and run back to NCH and make Miss Angela forget we had come there. She had to know we were supposed to be heading home for lunch, or at least I was. Kurt packed his lunch like all the other NCH kids did in cold or rainy weather, so he could stay at school to eat.

"I'm so sorry," Miss Angela said, and went down on one knee, holding her arms open wide for us. We ran to her and I nearly cried from relief when she hugged us.

"So we're not dead meat?" Kurt said, when she released us and gestured for us to go ahead of her through the gate.

"Not on my watch. No, you two are in very good odor. Although… Well, we'll just have to think of a totally reasonable cover story and make it true. That's one of the laws of the guardians of Neighborlee. While we have many secrets, there are many truths that the ordinary people of this town don't need to know, for their own good and their own mental wellbeing. Can we truly call anyone ordinary who lives in Neighborlee?" She frowned slightly as we trooped up the cinder-strewn path to the front porch of Divine's. Then her frown turned to a smile, she winked, and chuckled as the door swung open while we were three steps away.

"Did you do that?" Kurt said in a loud whisper. "I didn't feel it."

Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 

Then the nightmares started.

I never woke up screaming, never talked in my sleep. However, after the third time I jumped out of bed and ran around the room I shared with three other girls, checking to make sure the door and windows were securely shut and locked, people noticed. All I could tell anybody when they complained about me waking them up was that I heard someone trying to get into our cottage.

The girls in my room were nice and didn't tell anybody but Miss Abby. The other girls in our cottage weren't so nice when I got out of our bedroom and checked all the windows and doors. They complained, and word got around. About a week before Christmas, Kurt overheard the complaints and the teasing, and he confronted me.

"Do you feel like a kind of itching in your feet?" he said, when we were tucked up safe in our talking place behind the stage in the social hall. He sighed, more like a groan, and slumped back against the wall. "You know, like when I can feel our superpowers working."

"You can feel them. I can't," I reminded him.

"Yeah, but I'm getting weird dreams too. Is someone trying to get through the walls, scratching at them all the time?"

"It's not people," I told him, my voice dropping to a whisper.

Kurt looked at me very solemnly, looking much older than his nearly-nine years.

We talked about everything we could remember of our dreams, which wasn't much, just the impression of someone trying to get into wherever we were. Kurt was frustrated with me that I didn't get an itching feeling. Then he forgot about that in the surprising discovery revealed by further talking. The itching was always on the same side of the room, when he woke up from his dreams of the intruder. Meaning if he lay on his back, the itching was on his right side, but if he lay on his stomach, the itching was on his left side, and if he was curled up on his side facing the wall, his face itched. The itching was always closest to the outer wall of his room.

Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 That afternoon, when Kurt got back from school, Mrs. Silvestri called both of us into her office. We had to tell her all over again what happened. Reggie knew Kurt, so when the Grandstones failed with Chuck and Clarice, they tracked us down, to accuse us of beating up on Sylvia.

"I'm proud of the two of you, for helping to defend others against bullies," Mrs. S said. "However…"

"There's always a however," Kurt muttered, slouching down in his seat right next to mine, facing Mrs. S's desk.

She pressed her lips flat and a little snort-giggle sound escaped her. She bowed her snowy head and rubbed at her temples, then sat up and looked at us again.

"Please be careful in all your dealings with the Grandstones. I don't want to have to punish you for doing what's right."

Then Mrs. S proved she was proud of us. She took us to Divine's Emporium for an hour before dinner. She and Angela sat at the little white wrought iron café table and chatted while Kurt showed me his favorite room upstairs, full of bins of bits and pieces of engines and tools and gears and belts. He put together a cute little wind-up car just while we were walking around the room, from the things he pulled out of the bin. We had fun watching it roll around the room on the mismatched wheels, bumping into the walls and bouncing off, until Mrs. S came for us. Angela let Kurt have the parts he used, for the leftover allowance he had in his pocket. Then she gave me a bag with twenty licorice whips in five flavors and told us to keep up the good work.

Sylvia must have been so ashamed of how she messed up, both crashing her bike and failing to get us in trouble, she left Clarice alone. Actually, she spent the next three weeks pretending Clarice wasn't there. Reggie and Freddie didn't come after Chuck or Kurt. However, Kurt reported that the Grandstone brothers asked a lot of questions about both of us. Some of the questions made no sense, like it was important that we didn’t have anybody. At all. Why did they ask more questions about Kurt, when Reggie already knew about him? After that Sylvia learned new, nasty words for me, and used them anywhere an adult wouldn't hear her. Throwaway was one of the milder taunts. Reject. Leftovers. Sloppy seconds.

Since she didn't sit at the same table with me in class, Sylvia made a point of standing at the easel next to me during painting, and tried to spill water or other colors into my paint jars.

After three weeks of warding off Sylvia's sloppy sabotage, I didn't get headaches anymore. New superhero lesson: regular exercise of my moving trick helped me get stronger, and better control. My appetite grew. Being a superhero, even a superhero in training, used up a lot of calories.

Quiz Time: EARN FREE BOOKS by taking the Neighborlee, Ohio Quizzes!

 

Time for the first quiz to earn points toward free books in the Neighborlee, Ohio fantasy series.

Lanie, who tells most of the stories of Neighborlee, refers to herself and her friends, the guardians of the town, as Semi-Pseudo-Superheroes. Because they do have something close to superhero powers. But they're not quite complete. For instance, Lanie complains quite often that someone who has the ability to kinda-sorta fly, like she does, should have invulnerability added to it. But she doesn't, as she learns to her dismay in Book 2, SEMI-PSEUDO-SUPERHEROES.

Here we have some superhero powers and their descriptions. How do you earn points?

First, come up with a much cooler name for that power. 1 pt.

Then, come up with a superhero -- or supervillain -- who is known for that power. 1 pt.

Bonus points: name somebody in the Neighborlee, Ohio series who has that power! 2 pts.

Deadline: Next Friday, January 17, when I'll post some more powers and ask you to do the same!

Post your answers here in the comments for the blog.

Let's have some fun!!!

If you've read a Neighborlee, Ohio book already, did you post a review for it somewhere online? If you did, post the URL to that review in the comments too. 5 pts.

Earn an ebook with 20 points.

Earn an audiobook with 30 points.

Earn a paperback with 50 points.

Acid generation	Ability to generate acid, can be manifested through touch or as a spray (e.g. acid spit, acid blood, etc.).
Air and wind manipulation	Ability to control, generate, or absorb air or wind
Animal control	Ability to communicate with animals, birds and even aquatic creatures and get them to perform tasks on command
Animal mimicry	Ability to take on the abilities of certain animals.
Animation	Ability to bring inanimate objects to life or to free an individual from petrification
Biological manipulation	Ability to control all aspects of a living creature's biological make-up. This includes, but is not limited to, genetic alterations, physical distortion/augmentations, healing, disease, and biological functions.
Cold and ice manipulation	Ability to reduce the kinetic energy of atoms and thus reduce temperature, can be used to control, generate, or absorb ice
Concussion beams	Ability to generate or transform various forms of energy into a "solid" or concussive beam of energy
Darkness or shadow manipulation	Ability to create or manipulate darkness, often by mentally accessing a dimension of dark energy and manipulating it
Density control Vision	Ability to increase or decrease the natural density of an object and/or one's self
Disintegration	Ability to disintegrate matter through touch or through beams
Earth and stone manipulation	Ability to control earth; sand, stone, rock, lava, dirt, or other minerals
Echolocation	Ability to determine location of objects in the environment by use of reflected sound waves, whether generated by the character or ambient sound. Also known as sonar or radar sense.
Electric manipulation	Ability to control, generate or absorb electric fields
Empathy	Ability to read or sense the emotions and/or control the emotions or feelings of others
Energy blasts	Ability to expel various forms of energy from the body
Energy conversion	Ability to absorb one form of energy and convert it into another form of energy
Fire and heat manipulation	Ability to control the kinetic energy of atoms to generate, control or absorb fire

 

Off the Bookshelf: HISTORY LOST AND FOUND, by Beth Adams - Secrets from Grandma's Attic series

 

Sometimes homework can be fun!

I bought this book (and a big handful of others in this and a second series) to do research into writing for Guideposts.

What a joy. Mystery wrapped around family dynamics and small town living.

Adams gives a warm, enjoyable introduction to the Allen clan, all the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of Pearl Allen, the "grandma" of the series title. 

Tracy, who inherited the house and has possession of the attic full of unexplored treasures and memories -- and mysteries to come! -- reads a name written into Grandma's Bible. This is a member of their family, but she doesn't know who he is.

Her search for answers follows a logical progression and reveals some painful details of our country's recent past, as well as gives some insight into the conundrums and joys and sorrows of adoption.

Can't wait to read more in the series, and continue exploring the town and the family and the attic.

Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 

From Ye Olde Dragon Books:

I told Kurt what happened on the walk home for lunch. He got that big-eyed, somber look, grabbed my hand, and barely finished saying, "Come on," before he took off running. We went right down the first street past the school instead of walking to the center of town and turning right, to get to NCH. Just after we turned right, we caught up with Clarice and her brother, Chuck. Kurt had me repeat what I had just told him.

"Yeah, she told me," Chuck said. "That was pretty brave, Reesy, not letting a Grandstone order you around."

"But Sylvia never told Clarice to sit with her," I said. "And she never asked her. Sylvia never talks to Clarice at all."

"Grandstones expect people to read their minds and know what they want before they say what they want."

"Gotta have something written there before you can read it," Kurt mumbled. He and Chuck did that stupid boy thing, punching each other in the arm and snorting. "I figure they're gonna come after you, as soon as Saliva tells Reggie." He grinned when Clarice and I both giggled at how he warped Sylvia's name.

The plan was simple—walk with Chuck and Clarice until they got home safely. We didn't really think about the next day, or the day after that. We were just kids. We didn't hold grudges for very long. What we didn't realize was that Sylvia and her rotten cousins weren't "just kids." They were taught from the cradle to hold grudges and to wait years, if they had to, for their revenge. In Grandstone mentality, that meant justice.

Fortunately for us, they also had a very high pride level, and a short attention span.

Before we had gone another block, Sylvia and Reggie caught up to us on their bikes. They rode circles around us, but the sight of four of us against the two of them was enough to stop them from inflicting punishment on Clarice. The four of us kept walking, which made Sylvia and Reggie continually adjust the path of their bikes. On the third circle around us, Sylvia hit the curb crooked and knocked her bike over and fell off. She let out a shriek and Reggie fell off his bike.

"Did you?" Kurt said as we kept walking. He was the only one who looked back. It took me a minute to understand what he meant. I shook my head. "Too bad. That would have been cool."

Sylvia didn't come to school the next day. Her leg hurt too much. Clarice told me that Sylvia's uncle came to the O’Donnells’ house that night, accusing them of beating up on her. Chuck had experience with Grandstone lies, so he had already told his father what happened. Mr. O’Donnell told Mr. Grandstone that nobody had touched Sylvia, and if he tried to sue, he would counter-sue and slap a restraining order on Sylvia to keep her away from Clarice.

Clarice actually giggled when she told me that Mr. Grandstone got all weepy and his voice got high. He insisted that Clarice was Sylvia's best friend and she was just so fragile without her parents in the country, she needed her best friend to withstand the torments of the first few weeks of school.

I had to explain what fragile was.

"Daddy explained to me that Sylvia thinks I'm her best friend because I'm too scared of her to argue," Clarice added.

Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 

From Ye Olde Dragon Books:

Sylvia left me alone for the first week of school, until Miss Underwood let us move our nametags. She marched over to my table, ripped my nametag off the table, tearing it halfway through between the N and the I, then slapped her nametag down in my place. By this time, I had received plenty of advice from Kurt and Mrs. S and Miss Abby for how to handle even worse bullies than Ricky and Donny. I picked up my nametag off the floor where she tossed it and moved over to the table she had just left.

The funny thing was, everybody at my table pulled up their nametags and moved to other tables, leaving Sylvia completely alone. That worked out, because there were six places at each table and four tables, but only eighteen students in the class.

Sylvia didn't even notice that she had the fourth table entirely to herself until she looked up from taping her nametag down again. Her mouth dropped open and she looked around the room. Then she stomped over to Clarice O’Donnell, who had been sitting next to me at my first table and had taken the same spot at our new table.

"What are you doing over here?" she demanded.

"I want to sit over here," Clarice said, her voice barely above a mumble.

"But I want you to sit next to me." Sylvia reached over to pull up Clarice's nametag, which she had just finished taping down.

"Sylvia, what did I just tell everybody?" Miss Underwood called.

"You said we could sit wherever we wanted now, we can sit by our friends. I want Clarice to sit next to me." Again with the little stomp for punctuation.

"I also said that everyone could make one move. You've already moved to a new table, and Clarice has moved to a new table. No more moving."

"But Miss Underwood, I want—"

"Clarice, do you want to sit next to Sylvia?" Miss Underwood asked.

"Yes, she does," Sylvia said, while Clarice hunched her shoulders and shook her head. Everybody had been watching in silence until that moment. Then they burst out laughing. Sylvia turned red, darker than her blood-red nail polish.

"The rules are the rules," Miss Underwood said. "Go back to your table, Sylvia."

"But I'm all alone!"

"Yes, and why don't you think about why you're alone?"

"Clarice is stupid and didn't do what I told her, that's why."

"No one is allowed to call anyone stupid in this classroom."

Sylvia spent the rest of the morning standing in the corner, doing her addition worksheet against the wall, with her back to the rest of the room.

VIDEO: This month's featured book: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID

 

 

Check out excerpts from the book every Tuesday and Friday this month.

You can buy the book in paper, ebook and audio from Ye Olde Dragon Books, just go to the website and click on the storefront!

Firsty Freebie: DIVINE'S EMPORIUM

 

To launch the start of 2025's focus on the Neighborlee, Ohio fantasy series, today's free book is an interactive story to read and choose your path in ebook format.

Divine's Emporium is the heart of the magic and wonder and strangeness and a little bit of scary stuff in Neighborlee. It's bigger inside than it is outside, with a doorway into a midnight garden through the wallpaper on the second floor, an attic full of paintings that drop you into other worlds, and a vintage clothing room that sends you into another time and place if you don't follow the warnings from Angela, the proprietor.

Here's the link for your Firsty Freebie download for January.

Go to YeOldeDragonBooks.com and check out the Visitor's Guide page, to find out all the fun things you can investigate, to learn more about the weird and wonderful town of Neighborlee, Ohio.

And come back tomorrow for the first excerpt from this month's focus book: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID.