Post by Debra J Edwards on Nov 28, 2007 10:47:20 GMT -5
Well, the third book is most definitely underway. I even have a title - Hero required.
This book is written in a different way from the other two and if you've read the last two you'll know why. I'm going to give my special fans a little taster before I officially put it on the website. Hope you like it! Let me know!
Chapter One
It was the revolting stench that first aroused the sleeping pilp donor, a female human child of about ten years - that along with the constant pushing and shoving of the pillow beneath its head. It started as a slightly unpleasant pong – the type often associated with mild foot odour. If it had stayed at that smell level then perhaps the events that followed wouldn’t have followed!
As the first whiff arrived, the donor pulled the pink flowered bed covers up close to her face and turned over. Her eyes remained tightly shut as the nights sleep consumed her still. Her breathing deep, long and unaffected. Then as the tiny winged creature moved nearer, the smell it emitted grew stronger and more powerful. The human child gave a gentle cough causing her freckled nose to wrinkle as the invasion of her nostrils began. A stronger cough followed then a splutter. Like a snake, her tongue slipped from her mouth as she tasted the vile air. Her head was bumped around on the matching pillow as the creature rummaged underneath for its reward. As the child’s eyes shot open there came a sudden awareness that all was not right in her world.
‘MUM!MUM! Come quick! There’s another one under my pillow.’ Maddie, as the human child was called, leapt out of bed and grabbed the strategically placed plastic fly swotter from her chest of drawers. She turned back catching sight of the creatures hairy legs as it scrambled around, still searching. Maddie crept up to the edge of the bed, moving slowly towards the pillow from which a thin piece of string protruded and dangled over the side. She heard her mum climb the stairs and enter the room but, following a familiar routine, never turned round. With mum now positioned on the opposite side of the bed, they waited patiently for the string to wriggle, a sure sign that the bait had been taken. They didn’t have to wait long!
As the string moved, mum swung into action lifting the pillow high in the air creating a large space which allowed her daughter to swoop down with a mighty whack. The creature, now sandwiched between the swotter and the bedsheet, made no attempt to move, partly because it was trapped and partly as it had been rendered unconscious by the force of the blow.
‘Get the jar, Mum. There’s one on the dresser,’ Maddie whispered. ‘Quick, before it wakes up.’ She turned to point, keeping the pressure on the fly swotter as she spoke.
Mum swung round and grabbed the glass container. ‘Here,’ she said, passing it to Maddie with the lid already flipped open. Placing the jar directly over the creature and pushing down on the sheet, Maddie slid the swotter out carefully.
‘Hurry, dear. It’s stirring!’ Seeing the creatures eyes flicker, mum shoved a piece of card directly under its body and flicked the creature into the jar. Snap! With the lid secured the capture was complete. Mum sighed with relief. ‘Put it downstairs, Maddie, with the others.’
The child ran out of the room and leapt down the stairs to the basement. ‘There,’ she said proudly, pushing the jar onto a long wooden shelf full of similar looking containers. ‘One, two, three, four, five, six, seven!’ She tapped each one noisily as she spoke startling each of the seven imprisoned creatures in turn. ‘And now, number eight!’ She jiggled jar number eight, turning it this way and that for a full minute. It was only a question from her mother that stopped the girl from completely flipping the jar over in her effort to awaken its occupant.
‘Eight,’ she answered, putting the jar back into its position. ‘We’ve got eight altogether.’
‘Wow!’ shouted mum, her head appearing round the basement door. ‘That’ll make them believe us. Then we’ll be on T.V. and everything.’
‘Yep! But that reporter said to call him back when we had ten. Well, we’re almost there, mum.’ Maddie made her way towards the stairs counting on her hands as she climbed up and out of the basement. ‘Just two more will do it,’ she said, slamming the door hard behind her.
Since the demise of the pilp collector - or tooth fairy as humans called them - the capturing of Grublins had become a daily occurence in this household. Maddy and her mother had quickly realised that these strange little creatures could be worth a small fortune - if they could get someone to believe them! Several of the bigger newspapers had turned their story down flat dismissing them both as loonies and time wasters. Even the tabloids had ridiculed their story, bearing in mind that they ran stories like, ‘A greenfly ate my gerbil’. In fact, it had become increasingly difficult to find anyone who would even answer their phone calls, until one small monthly magazine finally agreed to run the story, but there was one strict condition. Ten captured creatures were the condition and now with just two more to go, it looked as if fame and fortune were finally smiling down on Maddie and her mum.
In truth, the Grublins were such easy prey as they were fundamentally ill-equipped to do the job of the tooth fairy. They were much heavier, smelt really bad and tended to flump - a cross between jumping and flying - rather than fly. Yet all was not as it seemed. A Grublin was indeed just that, a Grublin - an inhabitant of Grublin City which lay to the north of Pilpsville, land of the tooth fairies, which in turn was part of the world of Mirvellon. Generally speaking, Grublins did not venture much into the human world and certainly did not collect pilps - teeth. The occupants of the glass jars that stood carefully upon the wooden shelf were therefore not Grublins at all. They were, in fact, Grublin-fairies; part Grublin, part tooth fairy.
At the bottom of the stairs, the jar filled shelf trembled slightly, knocking glass against glass. In jar number six the tiny creature steadied itself by pressing its grey chubby hands and feet against the sides, then once the rocking had stopped, it slumped despondently to the bottom. It scraped the remains of the mouldy scraps of bread off the inside of the jar into its hands, hungrily gobbling them down. The bulging eyes surveyed the extent of their prison. A piece of ragged green cloth served as a make-shift bed while a less than fluffy cotton wool ball posed as a pillow. The creature sighed, flicking thin strands of long black hair behind its shoulder. The screwed up face portrayed a mind in turmoil as it tried deperately to remember what it had been told to forget.
This book is written in a different way from the other two and if you've read the last two you'll know why. I'm going to give my special fans a little taster before I officially put it on the website. Hope you like it! Let me know!
Chapter One
It was the revolting stench that first aroused the sleeping pilp donor, a female human child of about ten years - that along with the constant pushing and shoving of the pillow beneath its head. It started as a slightly unpleasant pong – the type often associated with mild foot odour. If it had stayed at that smell level then perhaps the events that followed wouldn’t have followed!
As the first whiff arrived, the donor pulled the pink flowered bed covers up close to her face and turned over. Her eyes remained tightly shut as the nights sleep consumed her still. Her breathing deep, long and unaffected. Then as the tiny winged creature moved nearer, the smell it emitted grew stronger and more powerful. The human child gave a gentle cough causing her freckled nose to wrinkle as the invasion of her nostrils began. A stronger cough followed then a splutter. Like a snake, her tongue slipped from her mouth as she tasted the vile air. Her head was bumped around on the matching pillow as the creature rummaged underneath for its reward. As the child’s eyes shot open there came a sudden awareness that all was not right in her world.
‘MUM!MUM! Come quick! There’s another one under my pillow.’ Maddie, as the human child was called, leapt out of bed and grabbed the strategically placed plastic fly swotter from her chest of drawers. She turned back catching sight of the creatures hairy legs as it scrambled around, still searching. Maddie crept up to the edge of the bed, moving slowly towards the pillow from which a thin piece of string protruded and dangled over the side. She heard her mum climb the stairs and enter the room but, following a familiar routine, never turned round. With mum now positioned on the opposite side of the bed, they waited patiently for the string to wriggle, a sure sign that the bait had been taken. They didn’t have to wait long!
As the string moved, mum swung into action lifting the pillow high in the air creating a large space which allowed her daughter to swoop down with a mighty whack. The creature, now sandwiched between the swotter and the bedsheet, made no attempt to move, partly because it was trapped and partly as it had been rendered unconscious by the force of the blow.
‘Get the jar, Mum. There’s one on the dresser,’ Maddie whispered. ‘Quick, before it wakes up.’ She turned to point, keeping the pressure on the fly swotter as she spoke.
Mum swung round and grabbed the glass container. ‘Here,’ she said, passing it to Maddie with the lid already flipped open. Placing the jar directly over the creature and pushing down on the sheet, Maddie slid the swotter out carefully.
‘Hurry, dear. It’s stirring!’ Seeing the creatures eyes flicker, mum shoved a piece of card directly under its body and flicked the creature into the jar. Snap! With the lid secured the capture was complete. Mum sighed with relief. ‘Put it downstairs, Maddie, with the others.’
The child ran out of the room and leapt down the stairs to the basement. ‘There,’ she said proudly, pushing the jar onto a long wooden shelf full of similar looking containers. ‘One, two, three, four, five, six, seven!’ She tapped each one noisily as she spoke startling each of the seven imprisoned creatures in turn. ‘And now, number eight!’ She jiggled jar number eight, turning it this way and that for a full minute. It was only a question from her mother that stopped the girl from completely flipping the jar over in her effort to awaken its occupant.
‘Eight,’ she answered, putting the jar back into its position. ‘We’ve got eight altogether.’
‘Wow!’ shouted mum, her head appearing round the basement door. ‘That’ll make them believe us. Then we’ll be on T.V. and everything.’
‘Yep! But that reporter said to call him back when we had ten. Well, we’re almost there, mum.’ Maddie made her way towards the stairs counting on her hands as she climbed up and out of the basement. ‘Just two more will do it,’ she said, slamming the door hard behind her.
Since the demise of the pilp collector - or tooth fairy as humans called them - the capturing of Grublins had become a daily occurence in this household. Maddy and her mother had quickly realised that these strange little creatures could be worth a small fortune - if they could get someone to believe them! Several of the bigger newspapers had turned their story down flat dismissing them both as loonies and time wasters. Even the tabloids had ridiculed their story, bearing in mind that they ran stories like, ‘A greenfly ate my gerbil’. In fact, it had become increasingly difficult to find anyone who would even answer their phone calls, until one small monthly magazine finally agreed to run the story, but there was one strict condition. Ten captured creatures were the condition and now with just two more to go, it looked as if fame and fortune were finally smiling down on Maddie and her mum.
In truth, the Grublins were such easy prey as they were fundamentally ill-equipped to do the job of the tooth fairy. They were much heavier, smelt really bad and tended to flump - a cross between jumping and flying - rather than fly. Yet all was not as it seemed. A Grublin was indeed just that, a Grublin - an inhabitant of Grublin City which lay to the north of Pilpsville, land of the tooth fairies, which in turn was part of the world of Mirvellon. Generally speaking, Grublins did not venture much into the human world and certainly did not collect pilps - teeth. The occupants of the glass jars that stood carefully upon the wooden shelf were therefore not Grublins at all. They were, in fact, Grublin-fairies; part Grublin, part tooth fairy.
At the bottom of the stairs, the jar filled shelf trembled slightly, knocking glass against glass. In jar number six the tiny creature steadied itself by pressing its grey chubby hands and feet against the sides, then once the rocking had stopped, it slumped despondently to the bottom. It scraped the remains of the mouldy scraps of bread off the inside of the jar into its hands, hungrily gobbling them down. The bulging eyes surveyed the extent of their prison. A piece of ragged green cloth served as a make-shift bed while a less than fluffy cotton wool ball posed as a pillow. The creature sighed, flicking thin strands of long black hair behind its shoulder. The screwed up face portrayed a mind in turmoil as it tried deperately to remember what it had been told to forget.
Hi Ella,
i want to be an author so please can you give me some tips? if i write a short story (well, short compared to an atual book), can i send it to you? also, i really want to meet you again so when the third book comes out i would love it if you can go to WHSmith again! 