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I hope your September has been a month full of good things and fun books! I've been working on a new website page of Instagram reviews of top books for 9-12-year-olds. Find the page here.
I've sent you a story about Morris the Monkey from Cinderella Sarah Two. You'll remember he featured in Cinderella Sarah One where he was too busy playing to get his boat ready for the fishing competition. His next story has him learning more lessons about the benefits of helping friends. If you haven't grabbed a copy of the second Cinderella Sarah, you can find it here. It has stories for 5-8 or 9 years-old.
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2. A Tourist Attractions Puzzle |
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After researching so many Rome tourist attractions for my next story, I'm itching to travel. Here is a tourist attractions puzzle to test your child's knowledge of famous places to visit in the world. Click on the picture or this link and the puzzle will open for you to complete. Have fun! |
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September has whizzed by with campervans, gardens and story revision—I've revised my 19,580 words cutting out sections and adding back chapters! When I sent the manuscript to my editor it sat at 22,000 words, and my brain was on high alert for the word "was". Poor little word was searched and destroyed more than an enemy warship in a futuristic fantasy world. My 'backspace' finger is twitching at the sight of 'was' in this paragraph, but this section is meant to be me, unpolished. 🙃
Amy, my daughter, has been housesitting for a friend; and I stayed overnight with her last week. In the morning, Amy had a text from the neighbor letting us know the Shetland pony had escaped from her paddock. We headed out to try catch her as the rain began. That little Shetland had a different opinion to ours about returning to her paddock. I should've taken a video of the cheeky little thing, letting us get close then running off, kicking her back legs up. Eventually she wore herself (and us) out and we coaxed her back to her paddock with a bucket of feed. As soon as we walked inside the house, the rain stopped. Would make a great picture book story, don't you think? 😆🐴
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4. Work In Progress Sample |
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Here's a sample from the book I'm writing: the third story in the Crime Stopper Kids series. My editor sent back my first chapter, so here it is, tweaked and tickled:
Sunday Early Morning
Logan
Warning bells rang in Logan’s head as a man in a Panama hat and dark sunglasses approached him and his family in the bustling Rome airport.
“Buongiorno,” the stranger said in an exaggerated Italian accent. “You must be Logan, no?”
How did the stranger know his name? Who was he?
The man swept off his sunglasses, revealing the bluest of blue eyes.
He should’ve guessed. It was Brody Bankston, wearing a ridiculous wig and hat. “Brody? What are you doing here?”
Brody pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh. I’ve come to pick you all up. But please don’t say my name so loud. I’m unco-nerdo.” As if a cheap wig and glasses would hide the famous actor from any loyal fan.
“Why all the secrecy?” Poet asked as the family gathered around Brody. “I thought not many Italians knew your movies?”
Brody leaned in close. “I thought so too, but they’ve got my poster splashed all over the city. But that’s not the only reason I’m unco-nerdo.” He winked. “Let’s just say I’m on a top-secret mission.”
“No more secrets, please,” Nate said. “Tessa’s last secret almost got me killed.”
“Dis is a good secret.”
Was his Italian accent getting worse?
“Boo!” shouted some voices behind them.
Nate and Poet jumped, but not as high as Logan. Why was he so on edge? He’d been like that ever since Mr. Gomander escaped, worried Mr. G would find them somehow and put a bullet through his chest. Or worse, through one of his family. Or Meeka. Jason and Lia had said they considered the boys nephews, and Poet, their niece. Which made Meeka his cousin. What if Mr G shot her?
“Ha ha,” Brody said. “See, dis is my good secret—the lovely Meeka and my terrible twin, the almost-lovely Tessa.”
Poet squeezed Meeka tight, Nate’s arms around them both. Nice.
“You alright, Logan?” Tessa asked. “We didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Well, maybeee just a leetle scare.” Brody’s Italian accent was definitely getting worse.
Maybe Abby, oops, Mom, was right and he should talk about his anxiety. But not today. Today was the first day of their holiday in Rome with Meeka and her parents, Uncle Jason and Aunty Lia. How could Mr. G possibly be in Italy?
“I’m good,” he said as Meeka barreled into him.
“Logan!” She flung her arms around him.
“Meeka!” This holiday would be up to its ears in excellence. Except for one thing. “You’re hurting my broken arm, Meeka.”
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Logan chatted to Jed, Jason and Lia’s chauffer, who drove them to their hotel in an air-conditioned Mercedes van. He still managed to be the first to slip out of the van. The others oozed out into the heat and pulled on their new sunglasses. There’d been no need for a new suitcase, but it seemed sunglasses were essential, like Mom told them when she bought them all a pair. But maybe his sunglasses were trick ones. Nope. Even if he took them off, the Colosseum was close enough to be in his personal space.
“Wow,” Nate said. “That’s so there. I mean, right there.”
“We should climb the Colosseum’s walls, Meeka. Looks like lots of handholds,” Logan said.
“No climbing on the antiquities, Logan,” Brody said.
“I tried,” Meeka whispered. “Policeman stopped me.”
Of course she’d tried. He offered her his fist and she fist-bumped.
“The location is amazing. I can’t believe the Colosseum’s this close to where we’re staying,” Mom said. “Steve, this hotel is going to be over-the-top glitzy, isn’t it?”
Dad nodded. “Uh-huh, hon. For sure.”
Nate stared at the marbled hotel entrance. “I bet it’s so far over-the-top we’ll need oxygen masks.”
A porter rushed to open the door beside Poet as a man in a grey overcoat with his sunhat pulled over his eyes stepped out and waited for a taxi.
Coat in this heat? He must be from the desert.
Poet gazed at a plaque, nibbling on the arm of her sunglasses. Logan poked her shoulder.
She dragged her eyes to him and whispered, “Five stars, Logan. Five stars.”
Should he pinch her so she’d know the five-star hotel was real? “You remind me of a cute bunny when you’re in shock, Poet. What do you reckon, Nate?”
Nate pulled his phone out and took a photo of Poet. “Never seen her eyes so bulgy. More like a frog than a bunny.”
Coat man stepped over to a taxi. Meeka squeezed past Logan, slid behind Poet and wrapped her arms around Poet’s neck.
“You’ll be okay. We all promise not to put our feet on the furniture.”
“And no jumping on the beds.” Poet frowned at Logan and Nate.
“Do that and I’ll throw you next door to the lions,” Mom said.
Brody started lifting out their luggage.
The porter closed the passenger door on the coat-man’s taxi and hurried over to their van. “We’ll take care of the luggage for you, Mr. Bankston .”
“Great disguise, Brody,” Tessa said. “Works well.”
“How did you know who I was?” Brody asked the porter. “I should be unrecognizable in this stupid get-up.”
“It’s my job, sir, to know who everybody is, wigs and all. Otherwise, I couldn’t deliver the bags to the correct room.”
“But how?” Brody asked.
Meeka’s face scrunched. “Bet it’s your man-bag, Brody. He must have recognized that. You take it everywhere.”
The porter’s smile moved to his eyes. “Oh dear, you discovered my trick. But please do not be offended, Mr. Bankston, if I suggest you visit our in-house hairdresser for a slight upgrade. She supplies many of our more well-known guests with quality wigs and other accessories so they can move about freely in our Eternal City .”
“Or I could dye your hair blue,” Tessa said. “Then we’d match. Like when we were fifteen and I dyed our hair green.”
“Green?” Cole asked.
“She said the dye would make our hair blonder for a summer party with all our friends. Who knew expired hair dye would do that? Didn’t impress the girl I wanted to ask out on a date.” Brody shrugged. “Let’s head inside. I can’t wait to see Poet’s face.”
They stepped through the door, and Poet gasped, her hands catapulting to her cheeks.
“Oh my,” whispered Mom.
Dad took a deep breath and let it out slowly, a quiet whistle escaping.
“Kickin’,” Nate said.
“Jumpin’ kickin’,” Cole added.
Logan’s feet were riveted to the floor. Was he in a dreamland? The ceiling appeared to touch the sky, and sparkling chandeliers hung like stars, casting a magical glow all around. The marble floor shone so bright he could see his reflection in it. Puffy velvet couches and soft leather chairs radiated comfort. He’d enjoy sinking into those and flicking rubber bands, secret ninja style, at all the fancy people. They seemed to glide as they moved about, speaking so softly their voices made only a background murmur mixed with gentle piano music.
Mom’s eyes were fixed on a huge, vibrant flower arrangement that someone probably stole from a fairytale castle. What was that smell? His nose shivered. Lavender flowers. Of course. The scent was the same as the lavender oil Poet poured on his pillowcase one night to help him fall sleep. His hair stunk for days, and the kids at school had teased him about that and his mohawk. He’d liked that mohawk, but it sure caused a lot of pointless stress. Thank goodness his hair grew back fast. Looking at gigantic paintings of beautiful people from the past, he touched his fringe and sniffed his fingers. Smelled like budget shampoo. Phew. Those paintings should be in a museum.
Gaping, Cole headed straight for the biggest painting.
“I feel like a teeny-tiny fish in a big, fancy pond,” Nate whispered.
“I’m a broken old push-bike at the motocross world champs,” Logan said.
“I’m a mouse in a room full of cats.” Poet turned toward a group of elegant guests, seated near the grand piano, listening to the pianist. “Well-groomed pedigree cats.”
“Don’t be bogglewhelmed ,” Meeka said. “You’re all bang brilliant. You’ll fit right in.”
Logan stared at her hard. Did she not see what they saw?
Movement flickered in the corner of his eye. A dusted and polished lady in a crinkle-free navy-blue dress with Union Jack buttons and huge red earrings approached Tessa. Her short blond hair framed a face so smooth and tight she mustn’t have ever smiled or frowned in her life. She must be older than she looked—her earlobes were stretched long and thin under the load of those big red jewels. Like a pair of underwear when the elastic gave out. “Hello, Ms. Bankston,” she said, her voice brisk and snooty. Tessa’s lips quirked into a slight smile. “Hello, Lady St. Clair. How are you today?”
“I’d be much better, dear, if it weren’t for all these Italians.” She took Tessa’s arm and pulled her aside from the group, but Logan was still close enough to hear her complain. “This hotel has only Italian porters. The staff at the best restaurants are Italian. Even the staff at Gucci are Italian. Can you believe it?”
“It is Italy, Lady St Clair,” Tessa said. “And Gucci is Italian.” “Humph, well, I wish someone could have warned me there would be so many foreigners.” “You do realize Lia’s Italian?” Tessa asked, her voice quivering. Meeka’s top lip pulled in her bottom lip. She better not laugh, or Tessa wouldn’t be able to contain herself. “Oh, Lia is delightful. I imagine it’s all the years she’s lived in the United Kingdom that has honed her voice. The cool crisp air will do that, you know.” Never helped Poet. She still sang like a crow.
Lady St. Clair let go of Tessa and patted her arm. “Tell her I said hello when you see her next. I am so looking forward to hearing her perform at the museum.” “I’ll pass that on, Lady St Clair.” “Oh, there’s my chauffeur. Italian, of course.” She let out a heavy sigh and headed to the exit. “Not a word, you two, not a word, until she’s left the building,” Tessa whispered to Meeka and Logan. “They say she had bionic hearing aids implanted.” “Who was that?” Logan asked as the door closed. “One of the wealthy donors we’ve invited to Mom’s concert at the Capitoline Museums,” Meeka said. “Is that the concert to raise funds for a local children’s cancer ward?” Logan asked. “The one she’s donated her special diamond necklace for auctioning?” “Abso-donor-lutely,” Meeka said. “It’s on Tuesday night, a few days before the Circus Maximus concert.”
“Such a great idea.” Tessa waved to Lady St Clair, who folded herself into her car. “I hope the Italian doctors keep away from Lady St Clair at the pre-concert drinks.” Meeka also waved. Tessa gave one of her silvery laughs and scanned the room. “Look, Andrew’s sitting in the restaurant.” She stepped in his direction. Brody grabbed her arm. “You’ve only been apart for a couple of hours. You can cope without him. He’s in a meeting.” Tessa sighed. Mom and Dad smirked at each other. “Who’s he meeting?” Nate asked. “Oh, that’s Enrico, the production manager for Mom’s Rome concerts,” Meeka said. “They’re talking about the accident at her last Rome concert. It was dread-awful.” “What accident?” Logan asked.
“Some faulty equipment caught fire. It was lucky the whole stage didn’t catch alight. A few people got badly burned, though. Andrew said he would talk to Enrico about the equipment they planned to use for Mom’s concert on Thursday.” “Hey, they’re coming our way.” Tessa bounced from one foot to the other.
This is just the beginning... the holiday will soon turn into a game of cat and mouse
as Mr Gomander seeks his revenge... |
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Nate, the jokester from the Crime Stopper Kids, has some monkey jokes for you in honor of Morris the Monkey, the main character of our short story. 1. If a monkey has thirty bananas in one hand and forty bananas in the other hand, what does he have?
-Very big hands 2. What do you call sick monkeys?
-Gor-ILL-as 3. What do you call a monkey flying in the sky?
-A hot air baboon
4. Why did the monkey take its banana to the doctor?
- It wasn't peeling good. 5. What do you call a monkey at the North Pole?
-Very lost
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6. Short Story from Cinderella Sarah Two Morris the Monkey and the Lie |
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Morris swung from tree to tree on his way to visit Lucas the lion. Today Henry the hippo had promised to give them a big tub of ice-cream after they’d helped him clean out all the branches and leaves that had blown into his mud bath during the storm a few days ago. Morris couldn’t wait for the ice-cream. He could almost taste it. Mm-mm. This would be a great day.
Lucas was waiting for him outside his lair. Morris swung down onto his back and Lucas loped off towards Henry’s mud bath.
“This should be easy-peasy,” Morris said. “A few twigs and leaves and then we’ll be eating ice-cream all afternoon!”
“I can’t wait!” Lucas said and rounded the corner to Henry’s home.
“Oh no!” they both said together. Henry’s mud bath was completely full of branches and leaves, all twisted and curled around each other, like a big, muddy bird’s nest. A colossal bird’s nest.
“I don’t think I want to do this anymore, Lucas,” Morris said. “It’s such a big mess.”
“I agree, Morris. But we promised Henry,” Lucas said. “His sister’s coming to visit this afternoon and Henry wants his mud hole all cleaned up before she gets here.”
“But I really don’t want to. It’s going to take ages. Let’s just sneak away and go play.”
“You go Morris. I’ll stay help. I promised,” Lucas said. |
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“Okay. Tell Henry I’m sick,” Morris said and leaped into a nearby tree. He swung to the top branch and waited to see what would happen.
Henry waddled over to Lucas. “Hello Lucas, where’s Morris?”
“Err..he’s not feeling well. Probably be in bed for a day or two,” Lucas said.
“Oh dear, poor Morris. Thank you for coming anyway, Lucas. Though I was hoping Morris could grab the branches and put them on our backs so we could move them out of the way.”
Henry looked very sad. Morris felt bad, but just then, Eli the Elephant came towards them.
“What’s wrong, you two?” he asked.
Henry explained he needed someone to pick up the mudhole mess. Eli nodded. “Easy. It’ll be fun. I’ll load it on your backs with my trunk while you two sing some jungle songs. We could make a dance out of it. Hard jobs are fun when you do them with your friends, and even more fun when you sing!”
And that’s what they did. Eli stepped into the mudhole and brought the mess out, piece by piece. Lucas and Henry carried it away and made a mountain of it all in the middle of the clearing, singing as they went. They even made up their own cleaning song.
In a land where animals play and roam,
Three friends united, that’s their home.
Eli, Lucas, and Henry, they’re a special crew,
Cleaning up the mess, they know just what to do.
Oh, Eli the elephant, Lucas the lion,
Henry the hippo, send the mess flyin’.
With laughter and cheer, they’ll make it all right,
Cleaning the mud bath, shining it bright.
After the storm, leaves and branches appear,
In Henry’s mud bath, oh dear, oh dear!
But our friends won’t let him be in dismay,
They’ll clear the mess, come what may.
Oh, Eli the elephant, Lucas the lion,
Henry the hippo, send the mess flyin’.
With laughter and cheer, they’ll make it all right,
Cleaning the mud bath, shining it bright.
Eli uses his trunk to lift the wood high,
Lucas pounces and roars, he’ll give it a try.
Henry joins in with a mighty splash,
Together they’ll clean, get rid of the trash.
Oh, Eli the elephant, Lucas the lion,
Henry the hippo, send the mess flyin’.
With laughter and cheer, they’ll make it all right,
Cleaning the mud bath, shining it bright.
With teamwork and love, they conquer the chore,
Laughing and singing, they work some more.
They show that true friends, through thick and thin,
Can overcome any mess, and always win.
Oh, Eli the elephant, Lucas the lion,
Henry the hippo, send the mess flyin’.
With laughter and cheer, they’ve made it all right,
The mud bath’s clean, a wondrous sight.
Now, Henry’s sister will arrive to play,
In a sparkling mud bath, they’ll happily sway.
Thanks to Eli, Lucas, and Henry’s endeavor,
Their friendship is now much stronger than ever.
Morris watched from the tree and wished he could join in. Why had he not wanted to help? It was fun doing things with your friends. But they were finished and he’d missed out.
It got worse. Eli stomped into the river to wash, then filled his trunk with clean water and sprayed it all over Lucas, who ran around, trying to capture the water droplets. Now they were all laughing.
Then Henry brought out three tubs of ice-cream, one for each of them. It was too much for Morris. He slid down the tree and skipped towards them all.
“Hello Henry, Lucas. Nice to see you Eli,” he said.
“Oh Morris. What are you doing here? You need to be home in bed!” Henry said. “Lucas told me you were too sick to help.”
“I’m feeling much better now, Henry,” Morris said. “I think I could even eat some ice-cream.”
“No, Morris. You look unwell to me,” Henry said.
“Yes, he’s a bit pale,” Eli agreed.
“Better not eat ice-cream,” Henry said. “Will make you feel worse.”
“Best if you go home now, Morris,” Eli said. “I’m sure you don’t want us to catch your sickness.”
Poor Morris! He’d missed out on all the fun, and now all the ice-cream. All because he’d been too lazy to help.
He sobbed. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sick. I just didn’t want to help but I wish I hadn’t lied. You had so much fun and I missed out on it all.”
“Tsk-tsk-tsk,” Henry said. “It never pays to lie. Makes you a stinky friend.”
“Yep,” said Lucas. “And you know what happens to stinky friends?”
“What?” Morris asked, staring at the ground.
“They need a wash,” said Henry. Eli filled his trunk from the river and sprayed water all over Morris. Morris jumped up in fright, and the others all laughed as he ran around in circle, getting wetter and wetter, giggling as he hopped from foot to foot.
Finally, there was no water left in Eli’s trunk.
“Am I clean now?” Morris said.
“Yes,” chorused his friends.
“Here, share some of my ice-cream,” said Lucas.
Morris sat down beside Lucas and helped eat his ice-cream.
“No more lying Morris,” Henry said as they stacked the empty ice-cream containers.
“I agree. I’ve made up my own little poem about lying,” Morris said. “Do you want to hear it?”
“Yes please!” they all chorused.
“I’ve learned my lesson, my friends so dear,
Lying and tricks, they bring no cheer.
Honesty, I now truly see,
It’s the best way to be, for you and me.”
Buy the Complete Collection of 14 Short Stories Here Today |
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Amy and me finally eating breakfast after chasing the Shetland Pony for an hour. |
| September has come and gone with a lot of wind and rain. Gave me lots of excuses not to walk up the Mount!
I've been researching art theft, which is interesting but sad at the same time, especially when paintings are destroyed. I still have artwork from my now-grown kids early artistic endeavors cluttering up my garage! Until next month, Happy Reading |
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P O Box 6040, Tauranga, New Zealand / All rights reserved |
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