“Ooo, she’s so pretty,” sighed the rabbit. “Can I touch your scarf? Can I?”
“Are you a princess?” asked her twin.
“Princess? Oh no. I’m a Duchess. Duchess Hazeline. Everyone knows….” But then she stopped herself. “But I am flattered. And yes, you may touch my scarf.” Even so, the Duchess seemed bewildered when the rabbits actually did bound up to do so.
“Here, why don’t you take it and try it on,” she said, handing it to them.
“Ooo,” said one. “Now I’m like a princess.”
“No, a duchess,” said the other.
The Duchess seemed even more bewildered. “My goodness,” she began, but she was interrupted by Francis.
“Only a few flakes now!”
“Looks like the snow might stop completely,” said Hood. “But we couldn’t have waited.”
“Yeah,” said Henry. “I was going to DIE.”
“You were singing a song, Henry. Don’t exaggerate,” said Tilly.
“I’m not!” said Henry.
The porcupine came puffing down the staircase. “I found the games room! Come quick! Come quick!” He turned and ran, puffing back up the stairs.
In a flurry, the orphans joined him—even Henry and the little rabbits who were arguing over who was going to wear the scarf.
With the orphans gone, the lobby became quiet. The fire crackled. A tiny bed squeaked as the ants pulled it from its packaging. Mona munched on a toasty seedcake. Delicious smells were beginning to drift down the hallway from the ballroom—crab apple puffs, acorn soufflé, and even cheese crumble.
“I had planned to wear that scarf at the conference,” said the Duchess, taking a seat on the couch that they left empty. She sighed. “Of course that was before….”
“Before what, Duchess?” Mona asked, nibbling her seedcake.
“Before I found out there was no conference.”
Mona gulped her bite. So that was why the Duchess was in no hurry to leave; why Francis said he was taking her back to her home.
“Well, there was a conference—but not at my warren,” the Duchess went on. “This year, the organizers chose another warren. So, of course, I refused to attend. I have the most beautiful burrow in all the forests far and wide, and yet…I just don’t understand it….” The Duchess sniffed. But it wasn’t a snobby sniff. It was a sad one. “Well, perhaps that’s not being honest. Perhaps I do understand. I haven’t always been, shall we say, the easiest to get along with. I am only ever trying to be helpful, you know. It’s not my fault other animals aren’t raised as well as I…”
Tilly humphed but didn’t say anything.
The Duchess continued. “I’ve always had the best of everything. The best governesses, the best food, the best warren. Still, sometimes the best is rather…lonely. It turns out my warren is rather big for a single rabbit. And so I came to the Heartwood. I knew I would find company. And I did, in a manner of speaking. Yet I was still alone.”
“But you have so many admirers,” said Tilly.
“Yes, but not friends,” said the Duchess. And Mona gave Tilly’s paw a squeeze.
The Duchess nodded upon seeing that gesture. “It was that—seeing what you would do for one another—that changed me. I was alone, but I didn’t have to be. I could choose to join in and help. Instead of driving others away, I could bring them together.”
“It was good you did,” said Hood.
And, instead of her usual sniff, this time the Duchess smiled.
Hood smiled, too.
And suddenly, Mona had an idea. The Duchess had such a big burrow—a big lonely burrow—and Hood and his orphans had no home. It could be the perfect pairing….
No one had a chance to hear her thought, though, because they were interrupted by an incredible sight. It was Mr. Heartwood. He was dressed up again. But instead of his pajamas, he was wearing a hat that looked like an upside-down tulip and was carrying a large bell. He looked ridiculous! Mona couldn’t help but giggle.
Ding-da-ding-da-ding! Mr. Heartwood rang the bell. Ding-da-ding-da-ding!
Moments later, the orphans scrambled down the stairs.
“St. Bright Eyes! It’s St. Bright Eyes!” cried Henry.
“No, it’s…” started Mona.
But Tilly shushed her. “Yep, it’s St. Bright Eyes.”
“But St. Bright Eyes never comes when it’s still snowing!” cried Henry.
“Well, I guess this year is different,” said Tilly.
“St. Bright Eyes is here! To spread warm wishes and holiday cheer!” bellowed Mr. Heartwood.
The orphans crowded around him as he led them into the dining room. Mona heard shouts of amazement.
“A WHOLE pond of honey!”
“There REALLY is one!”
“And look!”
The bells rang again and Mr. Heartwood—St. Bright Eyes—bellowed, “Now, now, now! Brunch will only begin once you all settle in.”
“That must mean us, too,” said the Duchess, and she stood up and headed into the dining hall, followed by Hood and the others. Mona watched them talking as they went. She would suggest her plan later. But Tilly was lingering, and Mona wanted to stay with her friend.
“Sheesh! Henry sure has a lot of energy, huh?” said Tilly. “So much for our quiet winter.”
Mona nodded. It had definitely not been a quiet winter. But she wouldn’t have it any other way. Busy was better—if it meant making new friends and having new adventures.
“I wonder if Mr. Heartwood will let Henry stay here. Do you think?” Tilly continued. “He’s rhyming again, so that’s good.”
Mona was about to say she was sure he would let Henry stay there, but she stopped. She didn’t want to make any promises that weren’t hers to make. “I bet so,” she said instead. “You know how nice Mr. Heartwood is. Hood’s nice, too, isn’t he? Even if he was the thief….”
“About that,” said Tilly. “I’m sorry I blamed you….”
“No, I’m sorry,” said Mona quickly. “I shouldn’t have kept a secret….”
“Pish-posh, haven’t you figured that out by now? The Heartwood Hotel is ALWAYS full of secrets.”
“I think you’re right,” said Mona.
“Of course I’m right,” said Tilly. “Now come on, we’d better hurry up if we want to hear St. Bright Eyes’s song. It’s so funny. And maybe Mr. Heartwood will even juggle the pea pods again. The St. Bright Eyes Brunch is the best. It’s even better than St. Slumber’s Supper. I mean, St. Slumber’s Supper is pretty great, with the gifts and everything, but at the St. Bright Eyes Brunch you get to crack open a seed and find your fortune for spring. Mr. Gibson writes them! And they’re always good—” She paused. “Well, interesting.”
“But who is St. Bright Eyes?” asked Mona.
“Oh, of course,” said Tilly. “That’s St. Slumber’s best friend.”
Tilly smiled, and Mona smiled back.
And with that, they got up from their cozy spots by the fire. But before they left the lobby, Mona gave it one last glance. There was no rug at the Heartwood door and the floor was muddy, covered in prints and small pools of snowy water shaped like flowers.
But as messy as it was, it didn’t matter. Because the important things were there. The crackling fire, the smell of good food, and a friend holding her paw.
And as long as she had those things, Mona knew, she was ready for whatever secrets—and surprises—the spring might bring.
THE PINECONE PRESS: NEWS! NEWS! NEWS!
Fernwood’s Orphans Find a Home
The famed Duchess Hazeline has just announced the opening of a brand-new orphanage in Fernwood Forest. This much-needed center for the care and protection of young orphaned animals will be located in her newly renovated warren. Duchess Hazeline will jointly share the position of Head of Programs with William Hood, who has been in charge of a smaller operation over the past few years.
This new center has the facilities and staff to accommodate more than thirty youn
g animals.
“We have dark rooms for moles and bats, swings for opossums, fur-lined burrows for baby bunnies, and mud boxes for frogs,” the Duchess says. “I was inspired to open the home during my recent stay at the Heartwood Hotel, at which time I was involved in a rescue of orphaned animals during this winter’s blizzard.” (For more on the Bad, Bad Blizzard, see page 2.)
The grand opening of the home will take place tomorrow afternoon in Mossy Square, with music provided by Cybele and the Dove Tones, and complimentary refreshments from the Heartwood Hotel.
Remember, when you see a young animal in need, please send a messenger jay or visit Hood & Hazeline’s Home for Orphaned Animals.
IN OTHER NEWS: The Heartwood Hotel reveals its bug-sized renovations!
I am lucky to be gifted with such great family, friends, and colleagues, who help me write the best books I can. Thank you to my dad, mom, brother, and Marie, and my grandparents, who watch over me; as well as my friends, including the Inkslingers (Tanya Lloyd Kyi, Rachelle Delaney, Christy Goezern, Shannon Ozirny, Lori Sherritt-Fleming, and Maryn Quarless), Lee Edward Fodi, Sara Gillingham, and Vikki Vansickle. Thank you to my amazing editors Rotem Moscovich and Suzanne Sutherland, and to the fantastic teams at Disney-Hyperion and HarperCollins Canada, and to the brilliant artist Stephanie Graegin. Thank you to my wonderful agent, Emily van Beek; my dear husband, Luke Spence Byrd; and the incredible Tiffany Stone, who practically lives at the Heartwood Hotel with me when I’m writing about it.
Also by Kallie George
Heartwood Hotel, Book 1: A True Home
The Magical Animal Adoption Agency, Book 1: Clover’s Luck
The Magical Animal Adoption Agency, Book 2: The Enchanted Egg
The Magical Animal Adoption Agency, Book 3: The Missing Magic
Turn the page for a sneak peek at Mona’s next adventure at the Heartwood Hotel!
There was a buzz in the air at the Heartwood Hotel. Mona the mouse could feel it in her whiskers. It was spring, and the guests, staff, and even the tree itself were beginning to buzz with activity. Buds were bursting on the branches, sap seeped from the bark, and the floors had a bounce to them. There was even a real buzz, too: from the bees, who had been hired to make honey for the guests.
The only one who wasn’t full of energy was Mr. Heartwood, the hotel’s owner. Winter had been unusually eventful, and the great badger had been dragging his paws ever since. So, at last, with much encouragement from everyone, he was going to take a break and visit a friend.
All the staff were gathered in the lobby to see him off. It was like check-out—a really grand one.
Mona smoothed her maid’s apron, making sure to look presentable, and straightened the key around her neck.
For once, Mr. Heartwood wasn’t wearing his own keys or his vest. Instead he sported a cardigan and a cap. Beside him was his suitcase, made of a burl with roots for handles. Mona had seen all sorts of suitcases in the hotel, from tiny seeds to hollow branches. His was the biggest.
But Mr. Heartwood wasn’t picking it up. He was still trying to run the hotel.
“Is the spring cleaning…”
“Sorted and started, Mr. Heartwood,” said Mrs. Higgins, the hedgehog head housekeeper.
“And the food…”
“Stocked and stored, Mr. Heartwood. We just got a shipment,” said Ms. Prickles, the porcupine cook.
“What of bookings…”
“We’re low so far this season…” started Mrs. Higgins.
“But don’t worry,” interrupted Gilles, the front-desk lizard. He would be in charge while Mr. Heartwood was away. “The Hop is coming, and I have plans to spruce it up.”
“What’s the Hop?” Mona whispered to Tilly.
“A big party—sort of like the Acorn Festival,” Tilly whispered back.
Tilly the squirrel was not only Mona’s best friend, but also the head maid, as well as the best grumper in the whole of the Heartwood. But lately she’d been grinning more than grumping, ever since she’d found Henry, her long-lost little brother.
“I love parties!” said Henry loudly. Henry had a very loud voice.
KALLIE GEORGE is the author of the Magical Animal Adoption Agency series. She works as an author and speaker in Vancouver, Canada, and she holds a master’s degree in children’s literature from the University of British Columbia. In addition to writing books for young readers, she leads workshops for aspiring writers. She happened across the Heartwood Hotel on a hike with her husband and wishes she were a mouse like Mona so she could stay there, too. Visit Kallie online at kalliegeorge.com.
Born during a blizzard on Groundhog Day in Chicago, Illinois, STEPHANIE GRAEGIN spent her childhood drawing and collecting fauna in Fort Wayne, Indiana, and Houston, Texas. She received her BFA in fine arts from the Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore, Maryland. She later attended Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, New York, obtaining an MFA in printmaking. Stephanie now lives in Brooklyn, is still drawing, and has managed to keep her collection down to one orange cat. Find out more at graegin.com.
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