It is with great pride and pleasure that I feature Keldane the Cursed by
Jeff Hollar today on this blog. Please note that this book will appeal to adults and IS SUITABLE for MG readers as well -- yay!!!
The boy rose from the stool he’d been sitting on and bowed
his back as he stretched. His spine cracked loudly with the relief of stiffness
the stretch provided. He thought, for not the first time ever or even the first
time today, ‘My father is going to kill me!’
His gaze returned to the pages of the enormous book on the
workbench before him. The runes all seemed to flow together in a jumbled mess.
With a sigh of frustration, he slammed shut the cover of the grimoire. A plume
of dust billowed from the ancient book causing him to sneeze violently and
repeatedly.
“It’s no use guys. I can’t find what I need in this stupid
book! I’ve been through it over and over and it’s just not here!”
He spoke to the two animals sitting on the table in front of
him. The large greenish frog, Desmond, looked at him with a mournful gaze and
croaked softly. The ginger cat, Lydia, looked at Keldane with a malevolent
gaze, her tail swishing angrily from side to side.
“You guys KNOW transmogrification isn’t my best subject. I’d
change you back in a second if I could only remember the bloody spell.”
The frog croaked more loudly and the cat hissed menacingly
as if to say nothing was Keldane’s “best subject”. Although he was the son of
THE most powerful wizard in history, Keldane was, unfortunately, so inept even
his wizarding instructors openly referred to him as Keldane the Cursed.
*While it’s unlikely your father would actually kill you, I
doubt he’ll be pleased with this latest in a long series of disappointments.*
The boy glanced up to the rafters at the immense vampire bat
hanging there.
“Barnabas, you HAVE to help me!” the boy moaned, “You’ve
served our family for over 20 years. There has to have been a problem like this
happen before.”
*No, I don’t think any of your siblings quite managed an embarrassment
of this caliber. Although I’m not especially hungry, I suppose it’d be easiest
to just suck them dry and you can toss the remnants into the rubbish bin. No
one need be the wiser.*
Neither the frog nor the cat was privy to the exchange
between the boy and his bat, but they WERE both a bit on edge. Thusly, neither
was as surprised as one might expect when the bat swooped down to feed.
Before Keldane could intervene, his friends took matters
into their own hands, so to speak. Barnabas learned firsthand why they called
them “catlike reflexes” as Lydia ignominiously slapped him out of the air.
Desmond jumped on to the chest of the dazed bat and held him down while Lydia,
daintily, tore his head from his leathery shoulders.
Both animals settled back on to the bench with expressions
simply daring Keldane to protest.
“Yes indeed. My father IS going to kill me.” The boy mused
as he plopped back down on the stool.
