COMING SOON THIS MAY!!! BOOK 3 OF THE DANGER GIRL SERIES "A WICKED GAME OF WITCHERY"

Chapter 1: Veronica Danger Powers: Witch

 

I’m not going to start from the very beginning. I can’t. Sorry! There’s no time for that! My father’s life is at stake.  So… I’m going to ask… that… you… simply… believe ...me!

 

And besides, I’m doing much better, thank you very much! Mom’s writing another book, but this time, it’s a memoir of her true love, my Dad, and the dreadful things my grandmother, Witch Viola has done to keep them apart. That’s the tragic news which you’ll hear about soon.

 

The good news?  We’re still living on Puddledock Road. And I’m still at Lincoln Middle School! And this is the first time we haven’t moved in as long as I have been alive, which is twelve years! And, bonus, that snot-nosed Witch, my nasty grandmother, Witch Viola, is out of our lives for good!... or at least for now. …or at least I thought so, until Mom set me straight. My witchy grandmother left on a broom, the first time! And the second time, before she left, she told me that my father was still alive! I’m not exaggerating! If you don’t believe me, just ask my two best friends, Jamal, and Lils. They can tell you stories that will curl your hair, or uncurl it, depending!

 

Seriously, can you imagine how shocking it would be if you found out that your grandmother was a witch? And that she has thrown your father into a ripple in time- for all eternity? To separate your father from his one true love, your Mom?

 

That’s exactly what happened to me! Truth is scarier than any novel, says my Mom. And then, I find out in a shocking way, that I have inherited Witch Viola’s powers? And that she is jealous of me!

 

Mom moved us to this haunted, run-down Puddledock Road last year, so she could write her famous novel. That wasn’t the real reason though- but you’ll find out soon enough! Well, the whole school was shocked to find out that anyone would even think of living on that haunted street! Let alone with a child! Cross my heart! It was haunted.

 

But in the meantime, ‘I suffered greatly!’  At least, that’s how Mom would have explained it, in her mystery novels. She’d be more dramatic and flamboyant--another word for you to look up. I’m serious! I‘ve got the vocabulary of a twelfth-grader ‘cause Mom made me study the dictionary from the time I could take my first step! “Learn a word a day,Veronica, and it will pay off some day when you need to express yourself,” says Mom. She still says it, even now that I am about to become a seventh grader, along with my best friends, Jamal and Lily-Lou. Mom always says, There’s a little bit of magic in knowing your own power.  I thought she meant vocabulary. But, nope! There are hidden messages in all the sayings she’s passed down to me. I now know about double meanings!

 

Newsflash: Did I forget to tell you that I am a genius? I am.  All thanks to Mom, and her great thirst for vocabulary –I’m being sarcastic, of course--!  It’s all rubbed off on me! Even the magic part!

 

Being a genius doesn’t hurt either! I can outthink anyone, except maybe, Jamal! And did I mention I’m a witch, too? That’s a Double Newsflash. One day you know nothing about your life and where you came from, and the next day—poof!! You’re a witch! Go figure! 

 

My best friends actually found an ancient book, dating back to 1100 AD, in Mom’s writing sanctuary a few months ago. It’s called a  Grimoire, a witches’ book, just like something out of a Harry Potter movie.  They didn’t tell me about it until…later! In fact, I used some of the magic spells and potions,  just in time to fix the Terrible Troubles at Lincoln Middle School. It came in handy, and it worked! The Grimoire is called, “The Powers’ Book of Spells and Potions”. It’s an ancient family book passed down through centuries by the Powers’ Coven. Each generation wrote down spells and potions in their own handwriting that would be useful in situations that needed fixing.

 

For me, that was Lincoln Middle School, the Terrible Troubles, during the final championship basketball game at the end of sixth grade. I used the most appropriate spells 
and potions written in cursive by my grandmother, Witch Viola. You remember? -- that nasty snot-nosed lady who keeps running away from me? Well, her! And the potions and spells worked!  My grandmother left me her beautiful, ornate (‘fancy’, for those of you who need to find your vocabulary) mirror. It stands about six feet high by three feet wide, and honestly-- you can’t see your reflection in the mirror.  I call it my wishing mirror, ‘cause I don’t care to see my image in any mirror, but I do like to day-dream or wish-dream into it… to ponder about important things.

 

But it’s really not a mirror at all! It’s magic! It’s a real, honest-to-goodness portal to other time-space continuums. I can travel to the fourth dimensions of time. Time is fickle and the minutes in another dimension click by slowly and deliberately, and time and space collide in the most unusual ways, and nothing in these other wrinkles in time make sense, no matter which way you travel. I can time travel to the future or the past.

 

I always knew I had a sixth sense, that gut-feeling, that magnetic pull  that helps me solve problems.  My name is Veronica Danger Powers, known by my friends as Danger-Girl! I thought Mom had gone bonkers-- when she named me that hot-mess of a name. I thought it was a cruel joke, a concoction of weird words strung together. Mom has an imagination that allows her to be one of the top writers in the universe!  But she never would tell me why she’d named me??...a…crazy…name…like…that!

 

Newsflash: I hated my name for almost twelve years, until I learned, it actually had some meaning.

 

It wasn’t some crack-pot name Mom picked out of one of her novels. The kids in all the schools I went to, which were exactly six schools in seven years, always made fun of my name, as soon as they heard it: Veron-ick-a Danger Powers! The teacher would practically scream it out each year as she assigned seats the first day of school. I think I even saw the teacher smirking behind my back! And one year, one of the bully-boys in class got everyone to call me icky all year long. That was the longest year of my twelve years on this Earth! Well, needless to say, I tried everything I knew, from being nice, which comes hard for me, to giving that bully a black eye—which landed me in detention for a solid week! He got nothing! Did you even hear me? He got away with it! Until I finally used my genius brain and came up with a nickname that scared the daylights out of everyone, including the teacher. My secret! It worked. He shut up! That was the deal! And I haven’t seen or heard from him in three years now!

 

Newsflash: I absolutely love my name now. Let me tell you why!

 

 It’s only been a couple of months since my nasty witch of a grandmother magically popped out of the oval mirror and gave me a lesson about just where  my name came from! I wanted to hug her, but nasty witches don’t like to be hugged, so I backed off.  Turns out my middle name, Danger, is a family name. I’m named after Witch Viola’s middle name! Viola Danger Puddledock (Viviano--her married name, first of four husbands).

 

And bonus, her son is my father, Lord Talon Powers, a powerful witch from the Powers’ Coven of witches. I also know my father can turn into a very powerful bird of prey and snatch up unsuspecting people or objects, by extending his Talons and gripping his prey. But he doesn’t really need to use that magic—at all!  Yet!  That’s my Grandmother’s son, my Dad.

 

I get the feeling that Witch Viola knows more than she’s letting on, though. She’s nasty to Mom, but Mom tries to please her anyway, which is why we moved back, I think, to Puddledock Town, to be closer to Witch Viola. Then the witch keeps moving away on us! I sometimes see Mom crying in the garden, when she’s tending to the wildflowers she planted now that we bought grandmother’s old house. Something’s not right there. Isn’t a Mom supposed to love her children, even if it is her daughter-in-law? And me? Her only granddaughter?

 

And this last time, my ugly, snotty old grandmother, appeared as my next-door neighbor, with a make-believe husband. She fooled me for a while, I have to admit. Until the cute, round old lady baked her famous Chocolate Chip cookies that were outright addicting to eat—they’re so yummy. Just like… Witch Viola’s chocolate chip cookies. I think I suspected who she was right then and there.

 

Did I mention that Jamal loves, loves, loves her cookies, witch or not!  But then again, Jamal loves anything that’s food! He’s the most interesting boy in all of sixth, I mean, soon-to-be, seventh grade! He’s won the county science fair for two years in a row, and his project on some kind of astronomy-thingy won second place at the State contest. The first-place winner was a high school student! He’s the smartest kid I know, almost as smart as I am. But don’t tell him, ‘cause he already thinks he’s my equal. He takes photography courses at the local community college and is the best basketball player in middle school, besides, Iggy, our new neighbor on Puddledock Road. But Iggy is in high school now, and so Jamal is top dog again! He’s short for his age, but I swear with all the food he shovels down his throat, he’s growing in front of my eyes.

 

And then there’s my other best friend, Lils or Lily-Lou as we sometimes call her, short for Lily Louise. Everything matches. She’s always on some kind of diet, but she always looks beautiful to me. She’s what I call a fashionista! She’s the best dressed kid at LMS! And she’s trying to get me to go shopping with her this summer. Nope! I still don’t want to have any part of that.

 

Lils is smart and nerdy, and her red hair and freckles make me smile! She’s a true friend, and insists on honesty and loyalty from me and Jamal. She means well. Give me a clean pair of jeans with some holes here and there for design, of course, a Panthers’ basketball tee and I’m good. I don’t and I repeat, I don’t wear my clothes twice anymore, once right side out, and the next day, inside out! Imagine a Mom teaching her only daughter to do that and be the laughing stock of every single school she has attended? …The kids only said those things behind my back, but since I am a lip-reader, I could understand every single word. Those aren’t real friends at all!  But Lils, well, straightened me out on that little problem! And that’s a big step for me, one that Lils made me stop doing.

 

Newsflash: I’m still mad at you, Mom! Your words still sting. “No use washing your clothes more than you absolutely have too,” said Mom for almost my entire life!

 

Well, no more! Lils has figured out my wardrobe for the next year! I can’t keep up with her! I promise to wear what she tells me too, but I always change right away back to jeans and a tee!

 

Double Newsflash: Don’t worry, Mom, you’re not making Mother-of-the-Year, anymore… ‘cause I wash my own clothes and most nights make us dinner! I have for the last three years. And, what do you do? Write! That’s it! Day and night! You’re a great writer, I’ll admit, but you can’t do that writing stuff all the time! You’re obsessed! Get a life, I scream, but only in my own head.

 

I wouldn’t dare be disrespectful to my Mom. She is a stickler for politeness. She’s all I’ve got since Dad left us when I was a baby. Mom wouldn’t say why! And I thought I had a grandmother, who re-appeared next door, disguised as a chubby, old grandmother. My gut was right! She turned out to be Witch Viola. I went over to see her about a month ago, to get more of those Chocolate Chip cookies, and all her furniture was cleared out and --poof! Out the window she flew. I’m exaggerating. I didn’t actually see her fly out the window, but I know she pissed  me off ‘cause when I got back home, I found a note scrawled on the oval mirror, the ornate one (look it up, yet?) The note said: It’s not the Power of Two; It’s the Power of You! Scrawled in her awful handwriting that I’d recognize anywhere.

 

Like I said at the beginning, I’m not going to start at the beginning. And I didn’t! That’s the past. There’s no time left. We’re talking magic here. And a story of two powerful witches (hint: I’m one). You just won’t believe this story--until you do—believe, because it did happen.

Want to know what snot-nosed Viola is up to!? She’s taken my Dad away from my Mom, and I’m the only one who can find him somehow. Mom sat me down and told me this. Imagine the shock?  Mom said, “It’s all about magnetic portals which are small and short-lived and which open and close without warning.”  And did I mention portals in other time dimensions can open and close dozens of times each day, and when they open, I must be totally observant as they project auroras, which bubble up in the skies over Puddledock Road. Am I dreaming? Mom told me and she never lies!

 

Newsflash: I hope, simply, that you will believe me! This kind of stuff cannot be made up!

 

My best friends are willing to risk their lives to help me find my Dad. That’s true friendship! And I’m at war with that snot-nose, old grandmother of mine, Witch Viola. She as much as challenged me when she scrawled, It was always the Power of One, on my wishing mirror.

 

My magical powers are strong and getting stronger by the minute--and more capable, and 
skillful. Now, that’s the greatest threat to Witch Viola who has tossed my Dad a few ten thousand kilometers from Earth where the geo-magnetic field meets the on-rushing solar wind. The magnetic portals—and there are hundreds of them in the universe, leave ripples in their wake. They’re invisible, unstable, and elusive. They open and close without warning. And this is the most frightening part. I might never have another chance to save my Dad. And…

 

Newsflash: And… I’m… willing to place my life and the lives of my two best friends in danger by traveling through these hidden portals in the earth’s magnetic fields to find the one ripple in time through which my Dad is a captive for all eternity!

YOU CAN CONTINUE THIS STORY OF OUR HERO, VERONICA DANGER POWERS WITH ITS ALL ITS TWISTS AND TURNS EITHER BY GOING TO AMAZON.COM AND SEARCHING MARGARET DESJARDINS   OR   EMAILING ME DIRECTLY AT MARGARETSVIEWS1@GMAIL.COM AND WE WILL INVOICE YOU BY A RETURN EMAIL SHOWING YOUR 30% DISCOUNT AND FREE POSTAGE. WE WILL SEND YOU YOUR COPY WITH SAME DAY MAILING (NO POSTAGE OR TAX TO YOU). EASY-PEASY.

13 PUDDLEDOCK ROAD IS HAUNTED

  THIS IS CHAPTER 1 OF THE NEW DANGER GIRL SERIES. IT'S GREAT.

Chapter 1  Welcome to My World!

 

 “You look like a hurricane just blew through and ate you up.” says my Mom, always ready to tell it like it is. Newsflash:  I don’t even care. Well, maybe a little, but it is what it is, right? She’s constantly trying to make me feel better when she tells me flat out: “You don’t look too bad, just a little disheveled,” as if that were a compliment. I must admit, I had to look that word, disheveled, up in the dictionary, but that’s the way Mom is.  “Learn a word a day, and by the time you’re my age, you’ll be brilliant!” That’s what my Mom tells me all the time. I must be a walking dictionary by now!

 

I don’t think I’ve ever tried on clothes in a real store, in my entire life!  Everything Mom has ordered has come, straight from Amazon, online. Mom doesn’t have time to shop in real stores.  She’s says she’s  ‘Old School’. Newsflash: Taking your daughter to an actual mall to try on clothes is old-school.  You’d think she could at least take a break from her writing and take me to a store, any store! 

 

“I’m on a deadline,” is her standard reply, with that pouty look and her hands gesturing as she pretend-types in the air!  I can see it in my sleep. It’s so…not…worth…arguing.  Besides, with Mom, I always lose! So, Mom makes me wear everything twice, once regular side out, and the next day, inside out! “No use spending time washing a dirty shirt, when it’s perfectly clean on the other side,” she says, as if that were a brilliant idea.

 

I have to say, I kind of see her point! Especially since I wash my own clothes now. Actually, I’ve been washing and drying my own clothes for the last two years, ever since I was nine years old! I’m better at it then Mom, but I’d be the last person to tell her that.  She’s got a kind heart, but  she lectures at me all the time— …on and on…blah…blah…blah…about everything!

 

She picks on me whenever she sees me, which is not too often, since I try to keep out of her way most of the time. Mom’s a mystery writer, and I’m an only child.  Translated: She only has me to pick on since it’s only the two of us.  Dad left the minute I was born. And she refuses to talk about him, no matter how many questions I ask her! She replies: “You’re my love child!”

 

She writes  upstairs  in her study, with those puky, pea-green, velvet window drapes that go from ceiling to floor. Their old; their dirty! Her desk is centered between the drapes, overlooking Puddledock Pond, a brown sludgy pond with green, slimy stuff floating on top.  I call it frog throw-up. 

 

She writes for days at a time! With a bunch of best sellers, and a deadline to get this one done, I feel like she’s living in her own warped version of reality! And I’m not a part of it, not one little bit. Don’t tell her that though. I know she thinks she’s going to win some award for Mother- of -the- year.  Newsflash: Just being home every day doesn’t have anything to do with raising kids!

 

I think she figures, that at my age, I can fend for myself.  She would be right about that, since-- as of now-- we’ve moved seven times, once each year of my life, since kindergarten! She says she doesn’t want to ‘disrupt my education’ by moving during the school year.  “It’s bad for your brain to disconnect from your school until the end of the school year,” says Mom. 

 

I say back—“Are you freaking kidding me?  I’m so disconnected now, I don’t remember what the name of my current school is!”  I try to reason with her, but-- nope, there is no reasoning with a crazed Mom! Apparently, her desire to write outweighs my need to have friends and a real home!

 

 “I can’t write my novels if the location is all wrong,” says Mom, always with dramatic gestures, as if she were actually a character from her own novel.  “I’ve got to feel the place, the vibes,” she shouts. Translated:  She’s feeling guilty about ignoring me. Maybe I’m getting to her. No, she’s too wrapped up in her own imaginary world.  No more explanation ever!  No matter how hard I plead my case.  

 

Kids cringe when they ask me where I live, so I quit answering that question! Puddledock Road, is a disgusting street with weeds edging the tar and popping up in the cracks where the whole road is disintegrating. This is Mom’s idea of inspiration.  This run-down street on the edge of nowhere, with its run-down houses and dead-end street must really inspire her!  Her crack-brained schemes inevitably lead to creepy towns where she drags me, her only child, kicking and screaming, alone, without any friends!

 

I scream out loud,  so loudly my brains rattle:  “I HATE IT!”

 

Mom’s famous, pretty-much everywhere in the country!   She’s been on the New York Times best seller list a gazillion times. Translated: That means dragging me on book tours all over the country, mostly during the school year.  Not to brag or anything, but I’ve got the highest IQ of anyone in the seven schools I’ve attended in the last six years. But even I need to attend enough days to pull off an “A”.  Which, by the way, I could do in my sleep!  No bragging or anything: Just fact!

 

Puddledock is a totally small town with absolutely nothing going on!  “Better to go where I’m not recognized,” says Mom.  “That way I can concentrate without a bunch of paparazzi lurking around every bush!”  Now, that’s creepy.  And don’t think I haven’t seen my share of crazy people lurking in bushes, waiting for a chance to take her picture and upload it to Instagram, Snapchat, you name it!

 

All in all, weird as she is, in some ways,  she’s a pretty cool person.  She calls herself eccentric. “You take after me,” she insists. At first, I thought that was gross, just plain crazy!  Her style of parenting, if you can even call it that—well, it’s odd! But now, I see the resemblance. I might be eccentric too. I get it! I’m willing to concede that. Time will tell!

 

Unfortunately, and I say that emphasizing unfortunately, I live right next door to snoop doggy-dog, my creepy neighbor, Viola Viviano.  Viola is really, really old and I mean, maybe 60 years old! She peeks out from behind those lace curtains of hers and lurks in the shadows where she thinks nobody can see her.  But I’ve caught glimpses of her long, crooked nose with  those two large nostrils that flare up like a balloon—in and out —whenever she gets excited about something, which is all the time!  Flap…flap…flap…faster…faster…faster! Newsflash: I swear she’s going to explode some day! I sure don’t want to be around when that happens!

 

Lurking in the shadows isn’t enough for Witch Viola which is what I call her now. When you hear more creepy stuff about her, you’ll understand why!  She plops herself right down in front of the window to watch everybody’s every move in our neighborhood!  And believe me, there’s not many people in this neighborhood.  Which makes me wonder just why she lives here. And it’s pretty creepy the way she stares at my Mom and me! It creeps me out. Not Mom; she smiles like she has pity for her or understands her, or something.

 

Witch Viola even watches dogs and their owners who walk down this dead-end road, to make sure the owners pick up their dog’s poop! Viola is obsessed about poop! Viola is the poop patroller who screams out her window when the dogs poop all over the place. “Pick up your dog’s poop or I’ll call the police,” she screams out the window in that raspy, low voice.

 

Newsflash:  They never do-pick up the poop--, ‘cause nobody cares about dogs crapping on  Puddledock Road. There’s poop positively everywhere I step! 

 

I can’t get away with anything when Viola’s home, and that’s most of the time since she has some sort of a disorder going on. Mom just shakes her head and says: “Be kind, Veronica Danger Powers. Someday you might be just like her, too.” Mom is too kind and understanding. She seems to actually like Witch Viola. I’ll never know why! Unless Viola is going to be a character in her next book!

 

“No chance,” I scream back.   I don’t want any kind of a disorder. I think hers is all in her brain, which is why I keep my distance. Besides, rumors about her may be true:  They say she’s a witch! No kidding! I’m not the first one to notice that. Cross my heart, on my grandmother’s grave.  That is…if I had a grandmother.

 

I mean, Viola is a card-carrying, bonafide witch!  She’s got a collection of brooms, really! You couldn’t make this stuff up if you tried! Which (no pun intended) she keeps in plain sight on her porch.  I know for sure. I’ve seen shadows at night outside my bedroom window; something or someone floating by, crossing the moonlit sky, over Puddledock Pond.  Brooms and all!  And that’s why I keep my bedroom door and windows locked at all times! Newsflash: No one, and I mean no one, is getting into my room in the middle of the night!

 

My best friend this year is Lily-Lou.  The Lou stands for Louise.  To avoid snoop doggy-dog, we sneak around the back of Viola’s house to the blind spot, where she doesn’t have any windows.  That must drive her nuts! Then we stick to the shadows through the bushes to get to my house.

 

Mom sure outdid herself, when she leased this two-story Victorian house straight out of a horror movie, on Puddledock Road, the most deserted, scariest, spookiest road on the planet.  She says in order to write her mystery novels she needs a run-down house in a run-down neighborhood for inspiration! Jackpot!  I know it sounds strange  but, trust me, there have been worse places we have lived before Puddledock Road! 

 

All the houses on Puddledock Road face the pond, a dark black scummy, slimy pond. I’m not allowed to swim there because of the high algae count, or to play on the docks since they’re all splintered and rotting. Newsflash: I do anyhow.

 

Mom doesn’t have a clue what I’m up to once she starts writing her mystery novel. But that’s nothing new. The same thing happens every single year. Talk about predictable!  She’s really into the novel now, and her hands are just flying over the keyboard a mile a minute.  But, sometimes she asks me for help! I give her clues to help her create her plot.  She’s impressed with my creativity and my wild imagination. Newsflash:  Most of my ideas come from real life. No joke! Mom doesn’t even know the half of it!

 

Rumor has it, at Lincoln Middle School, where I go, that Puddledock Road is haunted! Everybody knows it! Whenever I tell the kids where I live, well, they whisper to each other so I can’t hear them. They just can’t believe anybody would let their only child grow up there. They don’t realize that everything in our lives depends upon when Mom finishes her novel. We’re half-way there now! Next year, a new location.

 

Now, to the greater question! My name!  I can’t figure out why Mom named me Veronica Danger Powers.  I’ve been stuck with it for 11 years now, And, she won’t tell. Says she wants to forget her past. Mom says she loves the name Veronica! “It just rolls off your tongue,” she keeps telling me.  “It’s almost musical,” she says. “Can’t you just hear the musical tones,” she says, not really asking, ‘cause she already knows the answer.  I hate it!

 

My friends used to call me Ronnie, since that didn’t seem as bad to me. In fact, I insisted.  But my mom had a fit. It’s not worth listening to her lecture, so back to Veronica! And Danger is really my middle name! Cross my heart!  Mom says it’s a family name.  How can I be sure? She never does talk about my grandmother or any other relatives, no matter what.  Newsflash: She’s not talking! But someday, I’ll find out!

 

I suspect she makes up all those stories about me, because, maybe she has something to hide. Translated:  I’ll find out someday, Mom! Just you wait! You can’t keep secrets about who I am to yourself.  But I never say that out loud to Mom. It would devastate her!

 

Just like all her fiction books with the weird character names!  Her name probably isn’t really Mom!  She’s probably some stranger who snatched me from a polluted river somewhere and just took me home! This novel Mom’s writing has a character named  Viola Powers.  A little like our last name, too?  A little like Witch Viola Viviano? Coincidence?  I don’t know for sure. 

 

It’s the Powers I can’t deal with. Did she make our last name up, too? I don’t know if she’s actually living in my world any more.  It’s starting to creep me out.  Hopefully, this mystery novel she’s working on,  will be done by the end of the school year, and we can stop this “make-believe” stuff!  And since her novels are about danger, well, it kind of does fit pretty well that she would stick me with that middle name.  Newsflash: Thanks a lot, Mom! I’ll figure out what you’re hiding.

 

And I really hate to admit it, but my stupid name really makes me sound more authentic when I’m solving cases. I’ve got this sixth sense about stuff, maybe ‘cause I’m a genius. I’m the one who solves real life mysteries.  Mom solves the ones made up in her own head. Veronica Danger Powers, it is!  Everybody takes me seriously.  My name has a really ferocious sound, and yet musical at the same time. Good God. I’m beginning to sound just like Mom now!

YOU CAN CONTINUE THIS STORY OF OUR HERO, VERONICA DANGER POWERS WITH ITS ALL ITS TWISTS AND TURNS EITHER BY GOING TO AMAZON.COM AND SEARCHING MARGARET DESJARDINS   OR   EMAILING ME DIRECTLY AT MARGARETSVIEWS1@GMAIL.COM AND WE WILL INVOICE YOU BY A RETURN EMAIL SHOWING YOUR 30% DISCOUNT AND FREE POSTAGE. WE WILL SEND YOU YOUR COPY WITH SAME DAY MAILING (NO POSTAGE OR TAX TO YOU). EASY-PEASY.

TERRIBLE TROUBLES AT LINCOLN MIDDLE

  THIS IS CHAPTER 1 OF THE SECOND BOOK IN THE DANGER GIRL SERIES

Chapter 1: Danger Is My Middle Name…for Real!

 

What whacked-out family passes down a middle name ‘Danger’ to her only daughter? I always thought Mom made that up, like she makes up all her best-selling mystery novels.

 

Mom never gets tired of asking, “Veronica Danger Powers, don’t you just love your name?”  She admires how she could ever have thought up such an impressive name. Mom even says it dreamily, with a sigh at the end, and her arms swing up dramatically as if she were conducting an orchestra.

 

Newsflash: Mom really is a drama-queen! She’s in her own little world so much that she needs to realize what’s real and what’s not!

 

Cut it out, I shout in my head, but not out loud. Mom’s big on politeness.  However, I do say, “Mom, you’ve been writing too much! You have an over-active imagination. Are you sure you weren’t casting me in one of your mystery novels when you thought up that crazy name you stuck me with for my entire life? Me, your only daughter?”

 

I have to admit I cringe every year, when I enter a new school and the new teacher says my full name out loud! Kids don’t even laugh at me—they gasp!  You can see their mouth’s fall open. It’s like, Oh, God, how could any mother name her only child a weird first name like Ver-on-ick-a! Bad enough, but Danger? What planet did you come from? I can hear them say it, but not out loud, Thank God!

 

At least Powers is a fairly decent last name. It’s not weird like Bottomfeeder, which I swear is a real last name, cross my heart! We had a Betsy Bottomfeeder in my third-grade class. I controlled myself though, even though I had a million comments for that one. Anyone whose name is, Veronica Danger Powers, has no room to judge.

 

Newsflash: I do anyhow, and I belly laugh to myself! It’s all controlled though.

 

Mom is finishing her mystery novel early this year.  I am actually in the second semester of sixth grade with my two best friends that I’m going to have for life! IF Mom even keeps her word, just saying, Mom always means to keep her word, but usually doesn’t.  But this time, Mom bought a house, right next door from the one we leased on 9 Puddledock Road. Problem though? YES, BIG problem. She didn’t even consult me. I’m happy, don’t get me wrong, but and I say that with great trepidation! My genius vocabulary comes from Mom. It means FEAR, trepidation, did you forget that word already? Lots of fear! It used to belong to Witch Viola Puddledock-Viviano, and now, well, it’s ours—the house, not the name!

 

Viola left in the middle of the night, after Lils, Jamal, and I solved the real mystery of 13 Puddledock Mansion. It really was haunted! And Viola was actually a witch! But that’s another story. She’s since left, but not before she gave me her most prized possession, an oval mirror which is authentically magic, and really a portal into the future, and maybe the past, who knows since I haven’t had the nerve to figure out how it works yet. But, I know one thing for a fact. It is magic! I saw a scene that frightened me so much I wanted to puke!

 

Really, you can’t make any of this stuff up! I know because before Viola left on her broomstick—not kidding, read Book 1 if you don’t believe me, she held me prisoner in the mirror until my friends freed me. Thanks to Jamal and LIls, I lived to tell the story. The most harrowing experience of my almost twelve years on earth.

 

This mirror would freak out any normal kid, but not me! I’m a genius and not easily rattled, as long as I have my mood ring on. That tells me how I feel! I’m good.  The mirror looks gigantic, about six feet high, three feet wide, with an old-fashioned stand that is heavy enough to fall through the floor if this house weren’t built so solid. Well, it looks old but pretty ordinary as mirrors go, except when you look into it! There’s absolutely no reflection looking back. I like that, but it freaks out Lils, since she’s one who likes to coordinate everything she wears, and actually see it in a mirror. I don’t care as much, although I love my new teal blue sneakers, and it would be nice to see how great they look on my feet.

 

The fact it looks like a mirror—well that doesn’t begin to describe the power it holds within! I’m not sure yet, but if Grandma Witch Viola says so, I believe her!  

 

Here’s the freaky part. Witch Viola appeared in the mirror after a black cat burst through the mirror, which liquified into a turbulant mass of electrical charge- straight through, from the inside of the mirror. Am I freaking you out? Well, just wait. I’ve got more to say! Anyway Viola, who’s outside the mirror now with brooms hopping around us in circles, tells me I am related to her—Viola Danger Puddledock is my grandmother!

 

Well, you can’t imagine the shocked look on my face. Wouldn’t you be shocked if someone told you that? It wasn’t an illusion or some trickery. My gut told me this was real. I felt a surge of love, an instant connection to my past. I knew this was the person I was supposed to trust in finding out about my past and in saving my middle school. Somehow, now, Viola seems softer and gentler than the terror-stricken, snot-nosed witch we all came to fear on Puddledock Road.

 

I’m hearing the words come out of Witch Viola’s mouth, and I’m speechless.

 

Newsflash: That absolutely never happens!

 

She’s now telling me that she knows where my father is, and that he is a Warlock from the Powers Coven, living in another space-time dimension. Don’t believe me? Well Lils and Jamal, my two best friends can vouch for me! They were peeking around the corner that Saturday in November when Witch Viola visited me to tell me of the Danger ahead at Lincoln Middle School. Lils and Jamal were petrified. Heck, I’m usually the one who’s calm and collected. Viola told me that Danger was a family name and Powers was from the Warlock Powers’ Coven. Mind you, Mom told me Dad split when I was a baby, and Mom wasn’t talking about all this stuff!

 

Newsflash:  Do you know what a shock this was to my system! I’m now a wreck.

 

On my thumb is my mood ring, which Mom gave me for my tenth birthday, and which I cherish because she said my Dad gave it to her at one of those hippy-dippy concerts a hundred years ago, when they first met! Anyway, I thought that was sweet, and, well, I never take it off my thumb, which is the only digit it fits on! It’s my compass of sorts. It changes from aqua blue to onyx black, and every shade in between, depending upon my mood. It warns me if I’m terrified and helps me control my moods. It seems to have some hidden magic in itself.  I don’t ever remember seeing this ring as black as the blackest black can be. But it is, today!

 

I stand statue-still as this witch grandmother of mine recites a chant which Jamal actually recorded on his audio recorder so we could figure it out later on!

 

Newsflash: I’m not sure I ever want to hear it again. It gives me the creeps!

 

Here’s what happened, maybe not word-for-word, but close!

 

Viola holds my hand in hers, which is creepy in itself. I feel a power-surge, an electrical transfer of some kind, an instant connection with this woman, my Grandmother: “Use your Powers, Veronica, to see what I see,” she says.

 

Translated: I’m thinking now, that my last name Powers, means I have some magical Powers I don’t yet know about! Could my last name be that meaningful, or am I just going insane?

 

The Circle complete, as the brooms circle round,

Spinning, electrifying, crashing into the ground

Let it be known, thy sweet little witch,

Of magical powers bequeathed thee, of which,

You are the key, my dear granddaughter, ‘tis thee

Bestowed with THE POWERS of magic and telepathy

The power of two is stronger than one

 

For you are a witch and must bear the scorn

The power of two is about whom you were born

For THROUGH this mirror, therein lies your  fate

YOUR SCHOOL IS IN DANGER, your portal awaits

Of what was and what could be,

Past and future, worlds you can see

For you are my granddaughter… I do love thee so,

The power of two, I shall guide you

Wherever YOU go-

I am near, we, the power of two-

For you, my sweet witch, ARE my alter ego

 

 I’m totally freaked and definitely scared out of my wits. Then as Viola disappears back into the mirror, she hesitates, and turns back to me and says the very same thing again: “Use your Powers, Veronica, to see what I see!”

 

Yes, Danger is my middle name. Jamal, one of my two best friends, calls me Danger-Girl--all the time. He gets me. Jamal, is also in all my advanced sixth grade classes, and the star basketball player on the Lincoln Middle School Panthers. He’s also the most interesting and smartest guy I know. Don’t let him hear this, but he’s pretty close to my genius level! Got to give him credit for his busy life. He’s even taking a photography class and a computer class at the local community college! He just won the sixth-grade science fair for the entire county. And his Mom’s just been promoted to Principal of Lincoln Middle School. He’s become an instant celebrity!

 

I’m still dealing with Mom, who’s now spending all her time in our ‘new’ old house, the Witch House I call it, the one that Witch Viola left in a hurry in the middle of the night about three months ago. No one’s seen her since. That makes Mom upset since Mom has been rejected by her own Mom, who turns out to be Witch Viola. Coincidence we live on this haunted street? Now, I know why!  Mom must have magical powers too, if I do. It only stands to reason. But she hasn’t used them yet. I guess her writing talent is enough for her and being in her make-believe world of mystery writing is her thing.

 

At least Mom kept her promise when she gave me that mood ring last birthday. She said that my dad had given it to her, and she wanted me to have a part of him.  How sweet. So why did he leave then? Isn’t a dad supposed to stay with his family? Anyhow, Mom has more than kept her promise, ‘cause we now own the old Puddledock house, not the Mansion down at 13 Puddledock Road.

 

The Puddledock Mansion at the end of the cul-de-sac is  the one the historical society fixed up with the money we dug up in another time dimension, in the 1950s. It was Jamal’s idea, and a great one, to place all the money and the stocks we found, in the Mansion so the police could find.  That’s all in Book 1, too! Jamal just left a note with the money, and now the Historical Society has fixed up the mansion. It looks totally transformed. Puddledock Pond is clear and beautiful too! They even resurfaced the street and planted beautiful flowers on the cul-de-sac.

 

I’m happy to be living in the same town for the next three years, at least. I’ve moved once each year since kindergarten and now I’m almost twelve. I don’t want to move anymore, except to this old house. Mom’s done a lot of the remodeling herself, and surprised me with a gigantic bedroom closet.

 

Newsflash: I still have the sparse wardrobe I’ve always had, but I have room to think now!

 

 I have Witch Viola, I mean, Grandmother-Witch-Viola-Danger-Puddledock’s mirror, which she insists is the portal to the future and past. Well, maybe I thought she meant past, cause  LIls, Jamal and I have really  gone back to the 1950s, to figure out Witch Viola’s life and why she was such a miserable person. Now, I understand.  That’s all in Book 1, too!

 

So, I get the Danger now. It’s crazy but now it makes sense and gives me some connection to my past. I’m fearless, smart, and get into more problems than most kids ever dream about! And now, Grandma Witch has told me about my dad, sort of, that is. I know that my name is not a total fabrication of Mom’s imagination, which freaked me out more than the truth itself.

 

What really freaks me out now is that my life is as perfect as I’ve hoped it could ever be. I’ve got Lils and Jamal as true best friends, and a Mom who promised to let me graduate from LMS. I even know that I’m related to the Puddledock family who started this town way back in 1791! I feel like I’m home! 

 

In spite of all the good stuff finally happening to me, my gut is telling me that those words that were scrawled in blood red on the oval mirror when my Grandmother Witch Viola left—Terrible Troubles at Lincoln Middle School, well, that was going to happen very soon. Danger is my middle name but that thought terrified me!

 

So, where does that leave me now? At least my best friends, Lils and Jamal, who, by-the-way, have been through tunnels and time traveling and counterfeiting money-laundering with me, well, they’re true friends.

 

But this next challenge just might be the most dangerous one yet.  I need to convince them to time travel to the future, to a danger so great and fearful that I can’t even imagine-yet!

YOU CAN CONTINUE THIS STORY OF OUR HERO, VERONICA DANGER POWERS WITH ITS ALL ITS TWISTS AND TURNS EITHER BY GOING TO AMAZON.COM AND SEARCHING MARGARET DESJARDINS   OR   EMAILING ME DIRECTLY AT MARGARETSVIEWS1@GMAIL.COM AND WE WILL INVOICE YOU BY A RETURN EMAIL SHOWING YOUR 30% DISCOUNT AND FREE POSTAGE. WE WILL SEND YOU YOUR COPY WITH SAME DAY MAILING (NO POSTAGE OR TAX TO YOU). EASY-PEASY.

 

THE RAINBOW KITTY SERIES

 ZOE ZOE SAVES THE SCHOOL PLAY IS THE 7TH AND LATEST IN THIS EXCITING FIRST CHAPTER BOOK SERIES FOR BEGINNING READERS. ENJOY!

Zoe-Zoe was an itsy bitsy kitty who accidentally crossed over the Rainbow Bridge into the scary Other World.  Plop! She landed in a dark and smelly dumpster filled with garbage.  …And, a family of angry mice threatened to eat her! She was scared and lonely …until she met Maeven, a seven year old, who played Peter Pan in the school play. Maeven wished she could fly, just like the real Peter Pan.  Will Zoe-Zoe use the magic in her tail to grant Maeven’s wish? …Will Zoe-Zoe ever see her family ever again?

Chapter One

Stuck in a Trash Dumpster

Plop!  Right into the middle of a dumpster full of garbage she

 tumbled. And Zoe-Zoe, the itsy bitsy kitty, didn’t have the tiniest clue how she got into this dark and unfriendly world.  In Her World everything smelled like fresh cut grass and sweet clover.  But not in the Other World.  Here everything was mixed together.  Zoe-Zoe looked up and saw the gray, colorless sky.  She didn’t like what she saw in this Other World. This was a dark and scary world.



Then it happened.  She saw the empty ketchup bottle move up and

down.  The empty milk cartons began to fly across the dumpster. One almost hit her in the head!   Meow! Zoe-Zoe couldn’t believe what she saw next. 

A family of city mice paraded across her long, bright pink tail.  First came the father.  He was plump and twice as big as the mother.  Mother was next, followed by five little babies.  They all held each other’s long skinny tails so they would not get lost or fall to the bottom of the dumpster and bury themselves under a ton of garbage. 

Mother kept a keen eye on her five babies, while father foraged deep into the blue dumpster for the best stuff to eat.  There were unopened bottles of milk, juicy red, round apples, and all kinds of half eaten hamburgers and hot dogs.  There was even pizza. 

Zoe-Zoe watched in amazement as the family picked their favorite food and began to gnaw on it. Yuck! Meow! groaned Zoe-Zoe.  As hungry as she was, the thought of eating rotted food made Zoe Zoe’s stomach churn.  She would never eat here.  She sat perfectly still in the middle of a paper plate of half-eaten spaghetti. 

Suddenly, the father mouse stood up on his hind legs. He stretched his body as tall as he possibly could, with his tiny paws high above his ears. Then he squeaked at Zoe-Zoe in a high-pitched threatening voice that made Zoe-Zoe cry!

“Are you a mouse like us?” asked the father mouse. 

“M-E-O-W!!! Let me out.  I am in the wrong world.  I belong in a land across the rainbow bridge.  Meow! Don’t hurt me!”  In Her World, everyone was polite and helpful.  It certainly was impolite to frighten her.  Zoe wiggled herself into an itsy bitsy ball and wrapped her long, thin, bright pink tail completely around her body for protection.

And then she did something she knew was impolite in Her World.  She did it instinctively.  She couldn’t help herself.  She HISSED!!  …and she HISSED…and she HISSED.  But even her hissing came out itsy bitsy, since she was only eight weeks old. 

“What was that?” asked the mother mouse. “It sounded something like a kitty.   Maybe I am mistaken.  Aren’t we supposed to be afraid of cats?”  Mother mouse  was confused.

“Mom, she has a long thin tail like us. But it’s pink.”  And then all

the baby mice laughed at Zoe-Zoe’s beautiful pink tail. That made Zoe-Zoe very sad.  In Her World, everyone was allowed to be whomever they wanted to be. 

“Are you a mouse?” Mother mouse was straight-forward about it. She needed to know if her family would be eaten by this itsy bitsy kitty.

“Meow! No, my name is Zoe-Zoe, and I want to go home.”  She was tired and hungry and scared.

“Get out now!” shouted father mouse.  “This is our food.  We won’t share it.”  When it came to feeding his family, Father mouse was protective.  And then, without warning, the mice all made a circle around Zoe-Zoe and linked tails. 

Zoe-Zoe was trapped!  They picked her up by her long pink tail.  And in one horrible throw, Zoe-Zoe was flung over the top of the dumpster and landed on a rotting banana peel. She slid from the slippery banana peel onto the hard cement, and bumped her itsy bitsy kitty nose on the metal dumpster. 

Meow! she cried.  But no one heard her.  She crawled behind the smelly trash dumpster, close to the wall, and fell asleep with her long pink tail wrapped around her for comfort. But there was no comfort in the Other World. 


WELL IF YOU WANT MORE OF THE RAINBOW KITTY SERIES JUST CLICK ON THE WEB ADDRESS BELOW:       

      MARGARET'S RAINBOW KITTY SERIES