Forests
of the Fae: Devlin’s Door
By
Kristine Kibbee
Genre:
Young Adult
At
thirteen, Anne did not expect to find herself traveling all alone, on her way
to spending her summer with family she neither knows nor wants to know. But
here she is; stuck on this train with a most annoying nine-year-old boy whose
only interesting contribution to her journey is the strange story of an
abandoned Victorian town hidden in the woods near her destination
When
Anne arrives at her backwoods stop, she is met by her ornery relatives and her
horrific older cousin who is determined to spoil Anne's summer with her
maleficent tricks. Anne needs to escape into an adventure and remembers the
story of the forgotten town. Determined to find this place, Anne follows her
cousin and friends tothe abandoned town where they goad her into entering one
of the cobweb-filled old homes and leave her locked inside
While
searching for a way out, Anne stumbles through a hole in the floor and
unknowingly steps into an ominous, ghost-filled mystery. As she digs deeper
into the secrets of this house, she discovers a weathered journal that reveals
a magic-infused history hundreds of years old and a tragic secret: a curse has
trapped the town and its inhabitants in a place not meant to be found by
humans. The more she discovers about the secrets of this place, the closer she
gets to the chilling realization that she is not alone in Devlin.
Author
Bio
Kristine
Kibbee is a delightfully contrary Pacific Northwest writer with a fascination
for all things literary. Kristine’s passion for creative writing began in her
early youth and led her to the doors of Washington State University, where she
earned a degree in Humanities, with a focus in Professional Writing.
Kristine
has since had works published in The Vancougar, The Salal Review Literary
Review, S/Tick Literary Review and is a featured columnist for the nationally
syndicated magazine, Just Frenchies. Kristine’s novella, The Mischievous
Misadventures of Dewey the Daring, is available on Amazon.com and her
middle-grade fantasy novel, Whole in the Clouds, was released in November 2014
with Zharmae Publishing. She anticipates the publication of her comedic
collectionof dog stories, Frenchie ‘Tails,’ - which are short, cheeky and ripe
with mischief-- in November of 2015; also with Zharmae Publishing.
Excerpt
Anne stepped inside as if dangling on
marionette strings. The floorboards creaked under her weight. A wide staircase
with dingy ivory steps emerged from the darkness in front of her, but she
veered right and into a parlor just inside the threshold. Just as Josh had
foretold, the room was fully furnished and aside from some vandals’ disarray
and a thick coat of dust, just as if its owners had left for Sunday church. A
floral couch with wooden legs sat at the center of the room with matching
chairs positioned on each arm, the cushions missing from all. Indentations from
the coffee table that had once sat before them remained in the floor but their
owner lie in the hearth, only its singed claw feet remaining. A porcelain doll
sat on the ground in front of the fireplace, as if an eternity of waiting had
failed to warm her stony bones. Her glassy eyes stared up at the ceiling. Anne
approached the toy, her hands trembling. A perfect X had been drawn over the
doll’s mouth.
WHAM! A thud echoed from the hallway and
brought the doll to life with its vibration. Her painted eyes darkened along
with the room. Rushing towards the root of the noise, Anne quickly arrived at
the front door and found it closed. Pulse racing, she twisted the
knob but met resistance on the opposite side. “Oh man, oh man, on man!” she
sputtered, digging her heels into the floorboards and pulling with her full
weight. Anne strained endlessly but felt no give. Panic swelled in her gut.
“HELP! HELP ME! THE DOOR’S JAMMED!”
Muffled yet unmistakable howls of laughter
echoed from beyond the door. Anne raced back to the parlor room and
approached its eastern-most window, which faced the street outside. There
appeared five blurry figures, growing steadily smaller as they dashed into the
distance. Squinting against the filthy windowpanes, Anne could distinguish the
mound of bikes as they neared it and looked on in horror as six bikes rode out
of town with just five riders. Lexie wobbled, laboring to steer her bike while
towing the one Anne had ridden. Or perhaps it was merriment that had her off
balance.
Anne returned to the front door, hot
tears streaming down her cheeks as she yanked at the knob again and again. It
wouldn’t give an inch. Her sobs came in spasms until she collapsed against the
jam and slid into a defeated heap beneath it. The floorboards were dusty and
Anne’s tears pooled upon them in muddy little puddles. She watched them swell
to lakes until she was dry and then sucked in a deep breath and wiped her
cheeks clean.
The staircase before her beckoned and Anne
rose with a mind to seek out the shattered windows she’d noticed on the second
floor, and along with them, an escape route. The stairs groaned beneath her
weight and she slowed to a cautious pace. As she reached the landing, Anne came
upon a catwalk that had been hidden in shadow from her vantage point on the
first floor. It was lined with bookshelves on one side, and as she neared it,
she was pleased to see a few volumes still scattered amongst the cobwebs. A
rich, red book with gold embossing caught Anne’s eye and she plucked it from
the stacks. “The Crimson Fairy Book by Andrew Lang,” she read
aloud, passing over the raised lettering with delicate fingertips. A musty
smell wafted up from its pages as Anne cracked the book open to an illustration
of a lithe little fairy riding atop the back of a barn owl. Glancing back to
the bookcase, she noticed a similar sprite on the cover of another of the
novels, bearing the titleThe Blue Fairy Book. She gripped its spine, but
as she moved to pull it from the shelf, the hollow space left behind revealed
an enormous rodent who leapt directly towards her. Anne recoiled, falling
backwards onto the railing behind her. Snaps of splintering wood resounded
through the house as the rotted banister split and sent her plummeting towards
the lower story. Time seemed to slow as she watched the dusty chandelier
hanging from the ceiling sway when she impacted and broke through the
floorboards below. In an instant, all went black.
I hope you enjoyed #whatliesbeyondthedoor !
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