“Okay, it’s time for a cup of tea.” Daniel steers me away from the cat, but I can’t tear my gaze from him… her… I don’t even know what to call the rotten feline-human thing. “It’s been a long day.”
He’s right. It has been a long day. Preparing for my zillionth birthday—okay, I may be in my fifties, but I haven’t quite lost the mentality of a twelve-year-old doll—really drained me. I mean, I had to set the table, pick out a dress that didn’t highlight my lumpy figure, and clean up.
Ugh. Cleaning. Sure I’m thrilled I have my legs and am walking again. Being with my son and family is more than I deserve, too, but cleaning… yeah, that’s something I’m never going to get used to. Well, re-used to. Then again, after thirty years, does the “re” even apply?
And after thirty years, I feel like a giant now. Gabby calls me a midget because I’m only five-foot-four, but I may as well be a skyscraper compared to doll-me. Any time I get out of bed, I have a mild panic attack, because I forget where I am and can’t understand why I’m so high up. Yay for post-traumatic doll syndrome.
“The mosquitos are biting,” Daniel says, leading me past our alfresco dinner, as ever perfectly attuned to my gripes and needs. “We’re all heading inside for dessert and television. We’ll clean up the mess later.”
Keyword: we’ll. I know he’ll chip in.
A warm glow comes from our living area, as two vanilla candles flicker in the corner. The smell sends pleasant shivers down my spine. Living without taste and smell for decades really made me appreciate the little things.
The family is curled up on the sofa, their eyes glued zombie-like to the screen.
“What are you watching?” I ask as Daniel guides me to the end of the sofa.
“It’s a broadcast,” Jason says, unable to blink. “The epidemic. People are experiencing symptoms again.”
“What?!” I gasp. “The epidemic was eradicated years ago!”
“No!” Jason glares at me like I’ve just kicked a puppy. “Nothing is eradicated! It’s like Swine Flu—it never really goes away; it just isn’t reported as much. We have to face facts: the treatment didn’t work. The vaccinations didn’t work. The epidemic will always be around. They’re saying this is a new strain. It doesn’t just affect a certain blood type. It affects everyone.”
I reach for Gabby’s… for my granddaughter’s hand. “Still. Gabby had it, and she’s fine.”
“It made me infertile,” she mumbles, her hair falling in her face. “So sure, I’m fine.”
“There are other options for you,” I say. “And will be even more of them by the time… There have to be! And guys, we stopped the company who started the epidemic. Doesn’t it mean—”
“Viruses have a mind of their own.” Gabby kicks off her joggers; they land with a thud. “I hate people. So on that note, I’m going to bed. Night all. Happy birthday, Nan.”
“Ella,” I correct. “We’re still best friends, Gabby. I don’t just want to be your grandmother. Could you at least give me that for my birthday?”
Standing, Gabby stretches and chews the inside of her mouth. “It’s not fair that you ask me that when all I’ve ever wanted is a grandmother.”
“Gabrielle,” Daniel lowers his voice and narrows his eyes. “Manners.”
Gabby glances at Jason for support, but he’s far too focused on the TV. Sighing, she picks at the black nail polish peeling off her thumbnail. “I’m sorry, Ella. That broadcast just twisted me into a damn pretzel. Darn pretzel. Whatever!”
“Just goes to show we should all know better than to watch the news.” I raise my voice over the reporter’s propaganda. “After everything that happened last year, we know how much the media spins stories. They never mentioned how Chris and his cronies kidnapped people and turned them into dolls. Or how most victims just happened to wander home safe and sound, mysteriously hit by amnesia. Or how those who remembered and tried to speak up were deemed insane. Why should anyone believe them?”
Gabby nods, but not because she agrees. It’s more of a “this-will-shut-you-up” motion. She leaves and heads for the spare bedroom. The family is staying with us tonight, which I couldn’t be more thrilled about. I love having everybody under one roof. Especially with news like this to liven up a birthday.
When the program switches to sports, Jason turns off the TV and throws the remote at Pam, who neatly crosses her legs. “Watch what you want. I’m going to bed.”
“Jason,” I say. “Could you speak a little nicer?”
“She’s used to it.” Jason shrugs nonchalantly, before smiling and glancing at Pam. “I’m sorry, my sweetest schnookums. I’ll make it up to you. Will kisses and cuddles suffice?”
“Ugh.” Pam rolls her eyes. “Go back to being a jerk, please. I’d knock you out if you spoke to me like that.”
“See, Mom?” Jason is annoyingly cocky. “Different generation.”
“Not a very nice generation…” I have unpleasant memories of the way I spoke to Daniel during my transitions, and I feel terrible for it. Conflict is so not my thing. Not these days.
Daniel wraps his arm around my waist, resting on my fat that spills out beneath my bra. I get that fat feels good to squeeze, but it doesn’t feel good when someone does it to you, no matter how loving it’s supposed to be.
“Are you ready for bed, birthday girl?”
“I have to find that cat.” I stand on tiptoes to look through the window. All I see is the glint of the monkey bars in the darkness, the stars lost behind the clouds. “You really don’t believe me?”
He leads me away from the living room and to the bottom of the stairs. “I believe that you believe. It’s physically impossible for Lisa to possess a cat!”
“I bet someone thought it was physically impossible to turn a human into a doll. Or to get my legs to work again. Technology is improving at a rapid pace! Can you imagine what the next twenty years will hold?”
“Hopefully we’ll be around to see it.”
“Don’t say stuff like that…” I glance at my bare feet and wriggle my toes. “I don’t like to remember the years I’ve lost.”
Daniel entwines his fingers with mine and kisses my nose. “Just think of the years you’ve gained. Come on. Bed will make you feel better.”
It’s been a year, and it’s still weird to have a shower. To feel the warm beads roll down my skin and settle in my hair. I have a love-hate relationship with soap. I like the scent of it, and the cleansing concept, but it always manages to find a way into my eyes. I can never catch the damn thing either. It always slips through my hands.
Attempting to leave the shower is… interesting. The number of times I’ve slid on the tiles like Tom Cruise in Risky Business is unprecedented. Somehow, I’ve managed to not die this past year. I haven’t quite worked out how to dry myself properly though. I’m like a kid, always missing parts of my body.
There was an old book I read this year about a girl turning into a vampire. Her senses were heightened and her quality of life vastly improved. She turned into a vision of beauty and lost the need to breathe or sleep.
My life is the polar opposite.
Everything aches. Like, constantly. And I hate swallowing pills to alleviate the pain. My vision is blurry, even with glasses. My hearing isn’t what it used to be, either. I’m far from beautiful and sleeping is the only thing I do well now. Readjusting to life as a human is hard… but strangely satisfying.
I stare at the bed, the blue covers like a calming ocean. It just seems so big. After all this time, it still can’t compare to my tissue box bed.
“Will you be reading tonight?” Daniel turns out the cover of the coverlet, and my heart twists at the wordless welcome of it that I used to take for granted.
“I won’t be able to concentrate.” I sigh, sliding in next to him, the satiny sheets cooling. “I think I’ll fall straight to sleep.”
“That makes two of us.” He switches off the light and kisses me. “Goodnight, my love.”
“Goodnight, Daniel.”
He snuggles in, but I remain upright, twiddling my thumbs.
Sleeping with Daniel is difficult. He snores, and I often wake up with a pillow in my face. I toss, turn, and steal the covers because I get hot, then cold, then downright uncomfortable.
I’ve suggested sleeping separately, but he won’t have it. He wants us to move together like magnets, but I’ve had decades of independence. Then again… he’s had decades of loneliness… so how could I ever leave him?
It’s not long before he snores, twitching sporadically. I throw back the covers and leave, closing the door gently behind me.
I can’t even pretend to be quiet as I hobble down the creaky stairs, so I do it quickly, wincing every time my hip pulls.
Gabby’s door is half-open—she’s never been a fan of sleeping with it closed. I rest my head against the doorframe, staring longingly at my granddaughter. When I was a doll, she used to rock me, and I’d fall asleep in her arms, her breath gently blowing my wig. It’s difficult to contain the sob.
I’m not sure if it makes me a bad person for wanting to cuddle Gabby instead of Daniel.
I barely know how to be a person… let alone a good one. Is that why I’m so attached to Jupes?
Oh yep. Here are the acknowledgements. Get ready for an Oscar-style thank you speech.
Firstly I want to thank everyone at Curiosity Quills for making my dream come true. Lisa (no, not the backstabbing character in the story) has been an absolute angel, forever encouraging and supporting me.
John Hudspith. Ah, boy. What can I say about the editor who knows just how crazy I am? I am SO lucky to have stumbled across this man. John has experienced the inner musings of my fickle mind; he has travelled with cannily corseted Gypsies, survived a man-eating library, took on a female cat burglar, and lived as a broken doll. Lumbering through poor word choices and battling nonsensical descriptions, he has taught me how to write good ‘n’ stuff. The poor bugger.
To my awesome Stepping Out students and Glee parents, thank you for putting a smile on my face every day. You kindly tell me how I’ve changed your lives and made your children shine…when really, it’s all of you who have changed my life. When I first opened the doors I had no idea how important you’d be. I wake up excited to go to work. Sorry kids: lame teacher moment. I’ll make up for it by unbanning “Let It Go” in 2017.
Christine and Dr. Jon, aka Nanny and Da. I couldn’t ask for better grandparents. Da’s love of fantasy is the reason why I write. He is the smartest man I have ever met and I appreciate every second I have with him. He legitimately knows everything about everything, except for the Kardashians, but he doesn’t lose points for that. I will always look up to my one in a billion grandfather.
Nanny; my little fat mermaid. As a child you showed me how to draw, how to create pretty little dolls and how to lie to your husband when you break the swing. You’ve always been an inspiration and my own personal therapist. Thank you for showing me what I’ll be like in 47 years (aka, you).
Nathan, I’m serious. Why haven’t we released our difficult third album? Nay is technically my uncle, but he’s more like my big brother. As a kid, he teased me, hit me and called me names. Endless abuse, I tells you. But it’s okay, because he made up for it by introducing me to grungy 90’s music, searching for UFO’s and being the best big brother I could ask for. He’s always been there for me, whether it’s fainting in the bathroom, fainting at Pink or passing out when a carnival ride fell on our heads. He is the reason why I love music, the reason for my sense of humour and the reason for my love of all things weird and paranormal. Thank you for always being there with chocolate mousse and All Aussie Adventures. Oh and check out www.photonation.com.au !
Ingrid, aka Mamma Bear. We have a problem, because all of my students and friends call you their second mother. Stop being awesome so that other people stop trying to steal you, okay? I can’t blame them though. You’re superwoman. You’re Lorelai Gilmore. You’re my best friend. You gave me everything to believe I could be anything I wanted to be. We never had much, but somehow, we always had enough. Never stop being the bubbly, loving mum that gave me life.
Lily Carter, my 98 years young great -grandmother. Grandma, I hope your wit and strength is genetic. Through everything, you’re always there to discuss politics, family and the universe. You’re kind, thoughtful and beautiful. And the cats totally love you because you keep knitting blankets and pillows for them. Thank you for spoiling us with the world’s fattiest and yummiest food and sharing stories of the past. You’re amazing.
Alex, I saved you for last because I knew how much you’d freak out if you thought I left you out. Hehe, scamp. Sometimes I worry I made you up. English, green eyes, spiky hair…that’s all the stuff ten year old me asked for. No wonder you think I’m a witch. You’re my rock and you keep me grounded when I drift into fairyland. You’re the Yin to my Yang and have opened up your mind to all the craziness and weirdness that is Tyrolin. Thank you for making me laugh, for watching Dance Moms with me and for being Mr. Right.
To Jason, Nikki, Ben, Jess, Harry: thank you for your constant support and encouragement.
To my cats Twiggy, Pippy, Polly and Pinny. You’re cute. You’re weird. I like that in a cat.
For keen eyes, you’ve probably noticed that I have a tendency to use my family’s names in my books. It’s a running theme…but I have a lot of Easter eggs in all of my stories…
To everyone close to me, I’ll wrap it up with this: I love you and I’m the luckiest person in the world because you’re in it.
And thus concludes the world’s longest Oscar-style thank you speech. I hope you enjoyed Shattered Girls! See you next time!
I'm a Jack, or more accurately, a Tyrolin of all trades.
Broken Dolls, the first in the trilogy, is an international #1 bestseller and appeared on Buzzfeed's Top 24 Best SciFi/Fantasy Books of 2015.
I have been in the Top 25 of the Australian Songwriters Association and Top 25 of the Australian Independent Music Awards, was awarded an Australia Day Award for Music in 2014 and for Arts in 2015. I own a performing arts school, teach creative writing and host a podcast called HooPod, which is part of Felicia Day's Hooman community.
Chocolate, cats and writing take up the majority of my time. Can you blame me?
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Emma and the Banderwigh, by Matthew Cox
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Ten-year-old Emma doesn’t believe in faerie tales or monsters that secret children away in the night—until she meets one.
She lives in a quiet village at the edge of Widowswood with her parents, her Nan, and her little brother, Tam. Ready to abandon the whimsy of childhood, she finds the boredom of chores comforting and Nan’s fanciful bedtime stories silly.
One morning, a wan and weary older girl staggers out of the woods and sets the entire town aflutter with whispers of a child-stealing monster lurking in the forest. Nan tells her of the Banderwigh: a dark soul who feeds on sorrow and drains the life from children’s tears.
Darkness comes calling on Emma’s happy home, threatening the reality to which she desperately clings. The impossible becomes more and more real, forcing Emma to reach inside herself for the ability to believe. Her family depends on it.
Alice Takes Back Wonderland, by David D. Hammons
(http://bit.ly/1cVs8i0)
Ace of Spades has taken over Wonderland and is dismantling what makes it wonderful. Teenage Alice must unite fairy tales across the magical world beyond the rabbit hole. With the help of Peter Pan, Pinocchio, Snow White and more, Alice may have the strength to takeback Wonderland.
Broken Forest, by Eliza Tilton
> (http://bit.ly/1WuY4ek)
Hopeless he’ll never be more than the boy who didn’t save his brother, 17-year-old Avikar accepts his life as the family stable boy, trying to forget the past. But when his sister, Jeslyn, is kidnapped, the thought of losing another sibling catapults him on a desperate quest. With his best friend by his side, and using the tracking skills he learned from his father, he discovers Jeslyn has been taken, kidnapped by one Lucino, the young lord of Daath, a mystical place thought only to exist in fables.
And Lucino has plans for Jeslyn…
Billy Lovecraft Saves the World, by Billy Lovecraft
(http://bit.ly/1vYGSCK)
The last thing Billy Lovecraft’s parents sent him before the crash was a photo of something on the wing of their plane.
Now he’s stuck with a horrible and heart-breaking mystery: What was that awful creature, and why were his parents targeted?
It’s up to Billy to gather a team of like-minded kids and lead them through a dark new reality where the monsters are real, not everyone is who they seem to be, and an ancient alien wants to devour the world.
Appetizer:
Book Cover
Title Page
Main Course:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Shattered Girls (Broken Dolls Book 2) Page 18