We’re back with MuseItUp’s C.K. Volnek and her Tween/Middle Grade book The Secret of the Stones.
Tell me something…have you ever met someone who doesn’t like Merlin or magic? This one character can be explored in such a variety of ways. He doesn’t even have to be in the story, just around the outer edges drawing everyone to his circle.
Most authors know the writing exercise of ‘what if’ and this is one time period and character it fits perfectly with. Even a certain mouse and bunny visited with Merlin a time or two.
Now it’s Ms. Volnek’s turn to visit…
A Merlin-loving tween is thrust into magic mayhem when the gift he’s been entrusted to protect turns out to be the enchanted object detailed in a mysterious prophecy.
Back Cover:
Trading places with a squirrel outside his window is the last thing twelve year-old Alex Ramsey expects to happen. Could the gift Aunt Norma gave him be magic? The Merlin’s magic he’d read about in the ancient diary? After he unexpectedly trades places with another animal, Alex realizes he must discover how this magic works, and fast. How had the trickery transformed him…and better yet… how did it turn him back into himself?
As Alex struggles to understand the how and why of his enchanted gift, he becomes painfully aware there is more to it than he first thought. Within the magic there is a great power, a power to control, a power so strong that another is willing do almost anything to get it. Can Alex protect the gift while solving the secrets to how the magic works? And can he make sense of the riddles in the diary, the riddles surrounding the prophecy of Merlin’s return?
Excerpt:
Alex flexed his hand in front of his face. Only it wasn’t a hand. It was a furry paw. Reddish-brown fur grew from the back of the paw and continued up to his shoulder. More fur covered his chest.
Whoa! Am I dreaming? Have to be dreaming. Some really wild dream.
A bushy tail twitched over his shoulder. He grabbed it and yanked.
Ouch! Definitely not a dream. What is going on?
Befuddled, Alex scampered to the branch closest to his window. He sat up on his haunches, watching the sleeping boy inside pull the cover up and snuggle under his grandmother’s quilt.
He gasped. Not possible. Can’t be me! Who’s in my bed?
A leg popped out from under the quilt, a leg with a fake tattoo of a lizard on his ankle, the lizard he’d gotten out of the gumball machine. His leg!
Nooo!
Alex raced up and down the branch, his reflection bouncing in the window with him. I’m really a squirrel. How? How could it happen? Think. Think! What was I doing? I was messing with the box…found the key and discovered how to unlock it. I saw the squirrel…Mom yelled up for me to take out the stupid garbage…wished I could be a squirrel and never have to take the garbage out again.
Alex swayed, the world spinning around him. His wish. He’d gotten his wish!
He gaped again at his body under the quilt. It was magic. Had to be magic!
More questions stung him, needles of panic pricking at him. What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to get back to his body?
Alex forced the knot of fear in his throat back down. First things first. He needed to get inside the house, get back to the box and the key.
Racing down the limb, he stared at the line of windows surrounding his room. Maybe one of them was open.
Nope. Not here.
He jumped to the next branch and the next. No windows open there either.
He stopped and gaped at the branches behind him. Had he really just jumped all those tree limbs? Triumph swelled in his chest.
Cool!
He jumped again, his paws grabbing the tree, nails biting into the bark. This was fun. Climbing was easy as a squirrel.
The oak’s branches towered above, swaying in the morning breeze. He shivered, more from excitement than cold. Bet I can see all the way to Snodgren’s Bluff from the top.
He climbed, jumping and weaving his way from limb to limb, toward the highest branch. Almost there. He leaped, sailing through the air, the wind parting the hairs on his face.
In a flash, the joy was gone and his heart jammed his throat. The wind was blowing the branch the other way. He wasn’t going to make it!
Down he plunged, legs thrashing, spinning in mid-air. He tore at the dry leaves. He ripped at the knobby branches. Finally, a sharp claw snagged a small branch, whipping his furry body around to smack, face first, into the trunk.
Umph!
His cheek stung. His ribs hurt. Clinging to the tree, his entire body shook, the claws on all four feet driven deep into the bark.
Breathe… Breathe!
He wheezed, taking in bits of air, his lungs feeling as flat as a popped balloon. That was close. Too close. Being a squirrel wasn’t as easy as he’d thought.
The back door banged and Dad tromped out, headed for the stack of firewood. Alex’s heart skipped. Dad! He’ll know what to do.
With a quick jump, Alex leaped up to the nearest branch, his squirrel feet scampering with a mind of their own. His heart pounded with each jump. Squirrels ran up and down trees all the time. This shouldn’t be hard to do, should it?
Perching at the top of the trunk, Alex stared down at the ground, straight down. He gulped and froze in place, nails biting into the tree with a death grip. Blood rushed to his head and the earth began to spin.
His dad’s whistle floated on the chilly air, followed by the sound of wood being stacked.
Alex shivered. I have to get to Dad before he goes back inside. If I don’t, I may NEVER get back in. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and rushed down the tree, head first, a hundred slivers of ice pricking his furry face.
Suddenly, cold packed his nose and mouth. He opened his eyes, not able to see anything. Only darkness…and cold.
The snowdrift! He’d rammed into the big drift at the foot of the tree. Scowling, Alex pushed back, tugging his head until finally he popped free. Snow clung to his bushy eyebrows and long thin whiskers. Sputtering, he snorted ice crystals from his nose and after a quick shake, bounded off in the direction of the whistling.
Come on, feet. Get me to Dad.
Alex zipped over the snowdrifts, angling toward the sidewalk at the back of the house. A white giant loomed ahead, casting a long shadow over him and he skidded to a stop. Eyes of black stared out and a lopsided hump grew out of its back. Alex froze, staring at the snowy-looking gargoyle. With a plop, a chunk of snow and ice slipped down its face, revealing half a curved mouth. More snow slipped off to expose a feathered lump.
Alex breathed a sigh of relief, giggling inside at his fright. It was only Mom’s garden angel, covered in snow.
Heavy boots stomped toward the house. Forgetting the angel, Alex snapped to attention. Dad! He vaulted toward the shoveled walk.
“Dad,” he chattered. “Dad!” He stood up on his back legs, his long tail curled behind him. “Dad, down here.”Alex nearly choked. Instead of words, only squirrel barks came out.