Mr Charlie Chumpkins and The Further Mishaps of Charlie Chumpkins

[Helen]

If you would like to read the first chapter of this book, you can find it here: https://www.goodreads.com/story/show/...

[Helen]

Day 2 of the FREE promotion of Mr Charlie Chumpkins and The Further Mishaps of Charlie Chumpkins

#freebook #kidlit #childrensbooks #mgfiction

UK: http://tinyurl.com/jdsgtnr
US: http://tinyurl.com/zb49m2p

For little people (7 - 12) who love to read about little people: Mr Charlie Chumpkins and The Further Mishaps of Charlie Chumpkins is #free to download until Sunday 30th October.



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Here is an extract from the chapter where tiny Charlie has fallen from the supermarket trolley into one of the freezers. Sam is desperate to find him, but is stopped in his tracks by an elderly customer...

I felt my upper arm being grabbed and looked down to see a wrinkled hand attached to a bony arm of an old lady muffled up in a winter coat and woolly hat.

'Excuse me, son,' she warbled. 'My eyes are not so good now. Mind you, when I was a girl they were sharp as a kestrel's.' She paused for a moment to have a giggle, encouraging me to join in by slapping me in a friendly manner in the same place she had a moment ago gripped me. I was starting to become quite battered. 'Do you need glasses?' she enquired, peering into my face, her head tilted to one side.

'Oh, no, no,' I replied, desperate to get away. 'Can I help you with something?'

'Ah, what a well-mannered boy. Isn't he a well-mannered boy?' she enthused to a nearby shopper who nodded obligingly. 'I said to my Wilfred - that's my cat - I said to him the other day, you know, Wilfred, it's not all true what they say about these teenagers. They're not all hooligans, you know. Are you a teenager?'

'No, not yet,' I hurriedly replied. 'Now what was it you wanted help with?'

'What about a hooligan? You don't look like one. You haven't got any of these piercings that are all the rage, have you?'

'No, nothing like that. So, what was it -?'

'What about tattoos? Now they're all right, though probably not for a youngster like you. My Albert - that's my late husband, bless his soul - he had tattoos. Ever so manly, they were. He was in the Navy, you know...'

The old lady sank into a daydream. I picked up a bag of carrots and touched her arm gently. 'Ahem, was it these you were needing help with?'

'Carrots? Oh no. They're fine. It was this mixed veg I was wondering about. Could you just check the ingredients for me and tell me if they contain sprouts. I can't eat sprouts, you know.'

She leaned forward and in a hushed voice confided, 'They give me wind.'

[Helen]

DAY 3. Get your #free copy of Mr Charlie Chumpkins and The Further Mishaps of Charlie Chumpkins while you can!

UK: http://tinyurl.com/jdsgtnr
US: http://tinyurl.com/zb49m2p

Can life really be that difficult when you're the size of a thumb?
...Oh, yes!

Here's another extract to whet your appetite:

Three hours later, the tent was up, sturdy and waterproof thanks to our earlier efforts.

'Come on. Let's have a cuppa,' suggested Mum. 'I think we deserve it. Don't you?' Her high-pitched laugh filled the canvas. We sat around the little camping table on some rather wobbly striped chairs. Suddenly, a voice called from outside.

'Hello? Anybody there?'

I darted up from my seat and undid the zip which was to be our door for the next week.

Outside, stood a ginger-haired, freckled boy. I recognised him as the one from the tent next door.

'Oh, hi!' I said politely.

'Coming out to play?' he asked.

'Can I, Mum?'

'Course you can, Sam. Off you go and play with--'

'Richard,' chipped in the boy.

'Richard,' nodded Mum.

I ducked through the tent flap, Charlie in my pocket, and followed Richard who began to race around in figure of eight movements.

'Nee-ow,' he droned, as he held his toy blue aeroplane aloft, making it swoop and dive in his hand. I chased after him.

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and turned to face me.

'Never guess what.' Richard seemed to be expecting a response, so I obliged with a forced tone of curiosity.

'What?'

'My dad's got a model aeroplane. Wanna see it? It's operated by remote control. I'm allowed to play with it whenever I want.'

'OK. If you're allowed.'

Richard jogged over to his tent, put his finger to his lips and gently pressed his ear to the blue canvas.

'They're out. C'mon.'

Looking over his shoulder, he pulled up the tent zip in a trice and pulled me inside. Their bedroom section had not been zipped shut. I could see a heap of dishevelled sleeping bags inside. In the space where we were standing were numerous holdalls, the volcanic contents spilling out, and an array of clothes was strewn, confetti-like, all over the groundsheet.

Richard rummaged around until he found his dad's plane. It was in a battered cardboard box underneath a leather jacket.

'Got it!' he proclaimed triumphantly as he bounded back through the tent flap, apparently unaware that he still had my company.

Again, I followed him. He ran at full pelt over to the other side of the campsite to an area where there were very few tents or caravans. This was probably because the ground was quite uneven here. Richard scrambled up a small slope, lay flat on his stomach and laid the aeroplane on the ground in front of him. He still seemed oblivious of my presence as he fumbled about with the remote controls. Suddenly, it took off... and flew straight into a bush.

'Go and get it then,' he ordered.

As I obligingly ran towards it, I found myself stumbling over a small hump. Embarrassed, I stood up, brushed the grass off my bleeding knee and automatically felt in my pocket for my chum. My pocket flattened beneath my palm.

'Charlie?'

I crouched down and peered into the grass, separating the blades in order to look for him. I caught sight of him just a little way to the left of my foot and so placed a flat palm next to him so that he could climb up. He was on his back, rubbing his head as if to say, 'Oh, no! Not again!' As he was clambering on, I was suddenly aware of a presence behind me and warm breath on my neck. I remembered Richard. Oh no! My secret was out.

'What the...?' I heard him gasp over my shoulder.

I swung round to face him.

'You must promise not to tell anyone, Richard.' I looked at him earnestly, then stared him in the face to show that I meant it.

'Wow!' he exclaimed, and before I could react, his grubby little freckled hand had reached out and grabbed Charlie roughly.

I heard a muffled yell from my little friend as Richard raced back up the slope with Charlie in one hand and his aeroplane in the other.

[Helen]

The humorous adventures of tiny Charlie Chumpkins are available for #free download until tomorrow. This is a bumper volume of two-books-in-one and is suitable for boys and girls (7-12).



Mr Charlie Chumpkins and The Further Mishaps of Charlie Chumpkins

UK link: http://tinyurl.com/jdsgtnr
US link: http://tinyurl.com/zb49m2p

#Kids besotted with The Borrowers and smitten by Stuart Little? Then they're sure to be charmed by Charlie...

Here's another little snippet where Sam buys Charlie his new home:

Just then, the silver garage door swung up and over the head of Mr.Parfitt. Inside, there were two trestle tables piled high with all sorts of toys. There were dolls, furry rabbits, a drum, and there, on the edge of the left-hand table, was the Dolls' House. I suddenly heard footsteps behind me. More customers! It was Astrid and Jenny clutching their purses.
It was now or never. I sprinted down the driveway and into the garage, just as Mr. Parfitt was disappearing through the door at the back of the garage that led to the kitchen.
'Uh, can I buy the dolls' house, please,' I panted, '...for my cousin's birthday? She's a girl,' I added quickly. He stepped back into the garage, the kitchen door slowly closing behind him. I glanced at the price tag - two pounds.
'I've got the right money,' I smiled, trying very hard to look sweet for the second time that day.
Mr. Parfitt pulled back his sleeve and looked at his watch. It wasn't quite half-past. I was glad Holly and Sarah hadn't appeared yet.
'Go on then, as it's for a birthday present,' Mr. Parfitt chuckled, 'though you are a bit early. I'll pass the money on to the girls. They'll be sorry they've missed the first sale, though. They're still upstairs doing their hair!' He winked at me, man-to-man.
I delved into my pocket, pulled out my money and handed over two shiny coins.
'Thanks!' I shouted over my shoulder as I jogged away with my prize.
Astrid and Jenny had stopped to talk to Claire Taylor at the end of the drive. I'm sure they gave me a funny look as I passed them clutching the big white house with pink gingham curtains.
'It's for my cousin,' I felt obliged to explain as I hurried away, awkwardly crossing my fingers. 'She's a girl!'