It’s #bookqw and my heroine loves snuggling ‘face’ to ‘face’ with a guinea pig!
Fun facts: The description of Hilda the guinea pig is based on our long-haired guinea pig Hilda who passed away just before I wrote the first draft, then titled Meadow Magic. Real-life Hilda had fur that swept the floor and strands of hair that fell over her face that was a different color on each side.
It wasn’t long before I missed guinea pigs and began fostering with Metropolitan Guinea Pig Rescue. I still volunteer with them and am not shy about posting my elder pigs’ photos–check them out on my Instagram!
More of the excerpt:
Fern put the glass into her pouch, calling out, “Gran?”
No answer. Strange. Fern glanced into the open bedrooms along the hall and strode to the main room at the front of Gran’s cottage.
Wheek, wheek, wheeeeek! came a shrill cry. Seconds later, Gran’s guinea pig barreled around the old couch, her long gray and white hair brushing the polished floor like a dust mop. She ran straight to Fern, who bent and caught her up into a hug.
“At least you’re home, Hilda. How have you been?”
Hilda burrowed under the hair that had fallen over Fern’s shoulder, then poked her nose through the black strands. Her little eyes were barely visible under a shock of white fur, and when Fern brushed it back, Hilda licked her.
“Aw, thanks. I’ve missed you, too.” Fern streamed her fingers through the chubby animal’s soft fur. “I promise, soon there’ll be plenty of time to pet you. But right now I’ve got to find Gran.” She carried Hilda to the window overlooking the vegetable garden, scanned it, then the nearby wildflower patches, searching for a gray-haired, wiry, outdoorsy version of her mom.
“I guess she’s started without me.” It was nearly six o’clock, early evening. Fern had promised to arrive by three.
The guinea pig burbled a string of chirps, and Fern looked down to find Hilda’s gaze locked on her face. Oh, great. Hilda had that look, sounded that way. Just like when Gran talked to her and Hilda “talked” back. Fern shook her head—
Something moved outside the window. A bird…yes, a small flock flew ahead of someone coming around the cottage. Several someones, including Gran.
Their gazes met, and Gran said something to a man at her side. Fern’s breath caught. It was Sir Humus.
“Surely,” Gran blustered loudly enough her voice carried in through the open window. “I can spend a minute with the lass now that she is here.”
Only Gran had guts enough to antagonize the council representative who had threatened to take away her land if they didn’t replant it.
Why is he here already? Had they got the start of the inspections wrong? But we’re so close to being done. Fern’s fingers started tingling in the annoying way they sometimes did, so she set Hilda down and shook them.
Gran burst through the door, her pixielike face twisted into a frown. The five songbirds that’d managed to enter with her circled the room and twittered furiously.
Fern bent to hug her. “Are we in trouble?” she whispered.
~~~
I hope you’ve enjoyed this excerpt! I’m working on enrolling in Kindle Unlimited for a 90 day period to give those readers a chance to enjoy the story. For now, the ebook and paperback are available at
Add it to your GoodReads shelf!
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