Even teen evil queens need love. Right? (Or at least a handsome sword-fighting minion to do their bidding!)
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Bad things happen when Rowen is around and the worst part is, she has no idea why until a massive family secret sends her on a fantastica...
From inside my warm cocoon, the ancient trees whisper. They've kept watch over this grove for so long, they've seen all my incarnations. These wooded giants know how to keep their secrets safe: never store them inside fruit, blossoms, branches or bark where they're easily stolen. Secrets are safest in the blood, flowing sticky and sweet. If I could beg the trees to reveal my past, my present, and my future, I would. But I cannot speak, and even if I could, the trees would never tell.
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Before we go any further, I know you have questions.
Like: 1. Rowen, you promised us a school gym destruction. When is that happening already?
Um: 2. Why do you care about a stupid book? Maybe it's not about you.
And: 3. Isn't Coffin Ridge a weird name for a town?
Plus: 4. What's the deal with this three-legged cat who came out of nowhere at the end of chapter one?
Well, because I care about you deeply, allow me to clarify.
1. Patience is a virtue, or so I'm told. The destruction of the gym is imminent.
2. I have a strong intuition about the book, okay? It could tell me important things about my weird life. Like why I look this way. Why bad things happen when I am angry. And why my dads force me to drink smoothies.
3. Coffin Ridge is called that because it takes its cemeteries seriously. We have a population of about 20,000 living and about 50,000 dead. People and their pets come from miles away to be buried here. Hey, some towns have theme parks or enormous balls of string, we have cemeteries.
4. Calpurrnio is the neighborhood three-legged cat whom I've known my whole life. He used to have four legs, but one day when I was about five, he showed up short a leg. Coincidentally, that's when the smoothies started. Weird, right? Like most townsfolk, we'd leave food and water out for Cal. Sometimes he'd come in, curl up in front of the fireplace, and listen to me complain about my life while I scratched behind his ears. I know it's weird to think he understood me, but it seemed like he did. But now I must vow to hate him for all eternity since he stole my book!
If that's all the questions, let's return to the story ...
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