Michelle L. Levigne's Blog, page 13

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

 

"Kids pay betterattention than adults." Mr. Longfellow slouched in his chair with his soupmug cradled in both hands. "Maybe you and I have been so focused on figuringout 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 youhere to talk to me?" Miss Angela said, when Kurt and I just looked back andforth 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 thingsbehind their words.

"We've been havingdreams about people trying to get into our rooms," Kurt said, when he had lookedat me and I looked at him, and we silently agreed he would do the speaking. It wasn'ttelepathy, but we had spent enough time together, we understood each other wellenough to just know without words. He told them about how we were getting out ofbed before we woke up, to make sure the doors and windows in our cottages were secure.

"How long have youhad them?" Mr. Longfellow said.

With careful questioning, we determined that our nightmareshad 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 acommunity center. The lobby had been refurbished, with a new drop ceiling and newfloor 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 afamiliar figure, since his family attended Neighborlee Gospel Church and helpedout with visiting NCH every other Sunday. He was tall and bald with enormous, bushyeyebrows, and his long whiskers were in that fascinating transition between darkred and white, meaning they were all shades of burgundy, gold, and silver. He workedwith the older boys who wanted to be mechanics and engineers, and Mrs. Silvestrihad introduced him to us the very first Sunday as a tinkerer. He made his livingfinding antiques for people and renovating furniture and houses. Mrs. Longfellowtaught the third grade at Neighborlee Elementary and was in charge of the schoollibrary.

Their daughter Portiawas maybe in her mid-twenties at the time we met the family, and even then therewas something visibly not quite "there" about her. I heard someone referto 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 daughterwas Lenore, also very smart, and involved in dozens of things, inside and outsideNeighborlee. She had graduated from Willis-Brooks College, was taking a bunch ofcorrespondence 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 onlyperson 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 Librarythat 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 alongthe line, he had earned the nickname of Jinx, and it stuck. Nobody could ever explainwhy he earned the name, because he was possessed of the most incredible good luck,rather than bad.

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

"I haven't askedthem 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 Angelasaid 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!" MissAngela nudged our shoulders, to propel us forward through the door. "Did youdiscover another facet of your gifts, Lanie?"

"What's a facet?"he asked.

"It's like the flatpart 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 learnedwhere the tiny library was at NCH, I had read through the entire encyclopedia. Betweenthe start of school and Thanksgiving. That put me in possession of a great dealof scattered, unrelated bits of knowledge, and I felt rather superior every timeone of those pieces became useful.

"Hmm, accurate, ifnot totally… Well, maybe it is applicable. There are many faces or sides or dimensionsto what you can do, or possibly could do someday," Miss Angela said. "Thereare many futures, full of possibilities, and no true means exist to see clearlywhich one is for sure." She guided us upstairs, to her living quarters on thesecond floor. Both of us were astonished and enchanted, because it had never occurredto either of us that someone could actually live in the same building as their business.

While we put togethera 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 slightdetour and come to see her about advice for Christmas shopping. She promised Kurtwould get back to school before the lunch hour was over. Then she called Mr. Longfellowand asked him to come to the shop. Then she called the school and left a messagefor Mrs. Longfellow, who was Kurt's teacher, and told her Kurt was helping her andMr. Longfellow, and might be late getting back to class. That was when we learnedMr. Longfellow's first name was Ford. Then she told us to set the table for four.

We were sitting down tothe most incredible chicken soup we had ever had in our lives when Mr. Longfellowcame into the shop. He ran right upstairs, knocked once on the door of Miss Angela'sapartment and walked in before she answered. Then he flung his long rusty blackpea 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 nightmaresthat night. On the way to school the next day, we walked at the back of the lineso we could have a little privacy to talk. There was only one thing we could thinkof. Fortunately, it was the smart tactic.

At lunchtime, insteadof going back to NCH, Kurt and I ran all the way to Divine's Emporium. Our logicwas 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 someonewho was over age twelve. Still, we had to do it. Miss Angela was the source of allthe comic books that Kurt and I used to formulate our superhero rules, and to learnwhat we could possibly do someday. She was the source of all the wonderful, magicalthings in our lives. Besides, she had the Wishing Ball, and the clearest thoughtin my sleep-deprived mind was that I could make a wish and make the nightmares goaway.

Angela was spreading cinderson the flagstone path in front of Divine's Emporium, outside of the wrought ironfence, when we ran up the long street. She stopped and put the bucket down insidethe 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 wereabout ten yards away, we had slowed down. The last thing I wanted in the world wasto disappoint Miss Angela, and I was sure Kurt felt the same. By the time we gotto within maybe ten feet of her, I was wishing I could turn around and run backto NCH and make Miss Angela forget we had come there. She had to know we were supposedto be heading home for lunch, or at least I was. Kurt packed his lunch like allthe 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 deadmeat?" Kurt said, when she released us and gestured for us to go ahead of herthrough the gate.

"Not on my watch.No, you two are in very good odor. Although… Well, we'll just have to think of atotally reasonable cover story and make it true. That's one of the laws of the guardiansof Neighborlee. While we have many secrets, there are many truths that the ordinarypeople of this town don't need to know, for their own good and their own mentalwellbeing. Can we truly call anyone ordinary who lives in Neighborlee?" Shefrowned 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 openwhile 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 andran around the room I shared with three other girls, checking to make sure the doorand windows were securely shut and locked, people noticed. All I could tell anybodywhen they complained about me waking them up was that I heard someone trying toget into our cottage.

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

"Do you feel likea kind of itching in your feet?" he said, when we were tucked up safe in ourtalking 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 superpowersworking."

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

"Yeah, but I'm gettingweird dreams too. Is someone trying to get through the walls, scratching at themall the time?"

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

Kurt looked at me verysolemnly, 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 wewere. Kurt was frustrated with me that I didn't get an itching feeling. Then heforgot about that in the surprising discovery revealed by further talking. The itchingwas always on the same side of the room, when he woke up from his dreams of theintruder. Meaning if he lay on his back, the itching was on his right side, butif he lay on his stomach, the itching was on his left side, and if he was curledup on his side facing the wall, his face itched. The itching was always closestto the outer wall of his room.

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

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

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

"There's always ahowever," Kurt muttered, slouching down in his seat right next to mine, facingMrs. S's desk.

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

"Please be carefulin all your dealings with the Grandstones. I don't want to have to punish you fordoing what's right."

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

Sylvia must have beenso ashamed of how she messed up, both crashing her bike and failing to get us introuble, she left Clarice alone. Actually, she spent the next three weeks pretendingClarice 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 ofus. Some of the questions made no sense, like it was important that we didn’t haveanybody. At all. Why did they ask more questions about Kurt, when Reggie alreadyknew about him? After that Sylvia learned new, nasty words for me, and used themanywhere an adult wouldn't hear her. Throwaway was one of the milder taunts.Reject. Leftovers. Sloppy seconds.

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

After three weeks of wardingoff 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 lotof 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 happenedon 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. Wewent right down the first street past the school instead of walking to the centerof town and turning right, to get to NCH. Just after we turned right, we caughtup with Clarice and her brother, Chuck. Kurt had me repeat what I had just toldhim.

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

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

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

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

The plan was simple—walkwith Chuck and Clarice until they got home safely. We didn't really think aboutthe next day, or the day after that. We were just kids. We didn't hold grudges forvery 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 waityears, if they had to, for their revenge. In Grandstone mentality, that meant justice.

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

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

"Did you?" Kurtsaid as we kept walking. He was the only one who looked back. It took me a minuteto understand what he meant. I shook my head. "Too bad. That would have beencool."

Sylvia didn't come toschool the next day. Her leg hurt too much. Clarice told me that Sylvia's unclecame to the O’Donnells’ house that night, accusing them of beating up on her. Chuckhad 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 triedto sue, he would counter-sue and slap a restraining order on Sylvia to keep heraway from Clarice.

Clarice actually giggledwhen she told me that Mr. Grandstone got all weepy and his voice got high. He insistedthat Clarice was Sylvia's best friend and she was just so fragile without her parentsin the country, she needed her best friend to withstand the torments of the firstfew weeks of school.

I had to explain whatfragile was.

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