Esther Moonstomp Books

Saffy's Secret Quest Series

recent posts

about

  • Short Story – Bigger!

    One sunny morning Tom was watching his dad clamber up the long ladder to clean the bedroom windows.

    “Can I climb up and help you?” Tom asked looking up and up to the window and his dad.

    “It’s too dangerous. You’ll have to wait until you’re a bit bigger,” Dad called down.

    “But I want to be bigger now,” Tom sulked.

    “I think you’re just right,” Dad said, “if you were bigger now, you wouldn’t be able to hide in all those small places, would you?”

    Tom liked hiding and jumping out, shouting, “Boo!” at his dad.

    He went indoors to see his mum. She was making a cup of tea.

    “Can I help you pour the tea?” Tom asked watching the steam from the tea puff into the air.

    “The tea is much too hot. You won’t be able to do that until you’re much older,” Mum said nodding her head and smiling kindly.

    “But I want to be older now,” Tom sighed.

    “Oh no, you don’t,” Mum said, “if you were older now, you would be too old to drink out of your favourite cup.”

    Tom loved drinking milk from his favourite cup. It had a big green dinosaur on the front.

    He went upstairs to see his big sister. She was in her bedroom, reading a book, which had lots and lots of words.

    “Can I read that book, too?” Tom asked looking at the beautiful picture of a tiger on the front.

     “You can’t read books like this just yet. You’ll learn to read books like this when you go to big school,” his sister replied.

    “But I want to go to big school now,” Tom frowned.

    “Big school’s good, but it’s hard work,” his sister explained, “and think of all the fun you have at your school, playing and painting and gluing and sticking and jumping about. If you went to big school you wouldn’t do all those things.”

    Tom liked playing with all the fantastic toys, making all sorts of brilliant pictures and running and jumping and skipping about at his school.

    He went into the next bedroom to see his big brother. He was building a tower with the smallest bricks Tom had ever seen.

    “Can I help you build your tower?” asked Tom his eyes growing at the sight of all the bricks in the box.

    “These bricks are too small for you. You can help when you’re my age,” his brother said.

    “But I want to be your age now,” Tom grumbled.

    “It’s cool being my age but I wish I was your age a lot of the time,” his brother said, “if you were my age now, you wouldn’t want to build your own tower with your big colourful bricks.”

    Tom enjoyed building his tower with his big bright bricks and then knocking it down again.

    He went into his mum and dad’s bedroom. His mum was making the bed.

    “Can I have a big bed like yours?” Tom asked looking at the plump pillows and huge duvet.

    “This bed is much too large for you. You can have a bed as large as this one when you’re grown-up,” Mum said.

    “But I want to be grown-up now,” Tom moaned.

    “I think you’re just right, just as you are,” Mum laughed, “if you were grown-up now, you would be too grown-up for your comfy bed and teddy would have to go to bed all on his own.”

    Tom liked tucking teddy into bed and snuggling down under the cosy covers.

    He went back downstairs to see his dad. He was fetching an enormous pot of brown paint from the garage to paint the fence.

    Tom opened his mouth and was about to ask if he could help. He thought about all his lovely box of paints in all the different colours of the rainbow.

    Tom smiled. He didn’t want to be bigger – not just yet anyway.

    ***

    Image credits: Freepik

  • Saffy’s Secret Quest – Book Two

    It’s all quiet on the book two front at the moment. The book cover images and colours have been decided on (I can’t wait to show them to you). All the illustrations have also been finished and it’s now down to the typesetter to insert them into the text.

    So while I’m waiting for more news, here’s a magical word search. Many if the words can be found in books one and two.

    Credit: Puzzles to print

  • Short Story – Father Chriscat

    It was Christmas Eve and Blackie was looking out the window into the night sky, at the twinkling stars and the moon shining brightly.

    “Come here, Marmalade. Look! There’s magic in the air!” he cried. “He’s on his way!”

    Marmalade tiptoed across the room. The house was very quiet. All the children were tucked up in their beds, dreaming about Father Christmas and all the presents he would bring.

    “I can see him! Look, he’s whizzing across the sky!” Marmalade cried, clapping her paws together.

    Now, it wasn’t Father Christmas Marmalade thought she could see – no, Father Christmas doesn’t visit cats – but Father Chriscat does.

    “Don’t be silly. That was just a shooting star,” Blackie said, grumpily. He had been waiting for a glimpse of Father Chriscat for half-an-hour and didn’t think he was going to come.

    He looked back at the fireplace at their empty stockings hanging up. There were five stockings in total. Three enormous stockings for each of the children and two smaller ones for Blackie and Marmalade. All five stockings were empty so perhaps if Father Christmas hadn’t come yet, neither had Father Chriscat.

    Blackie closed his eyes and wished very hard. He had been a good cat, so he hoped his stocking would be filled to bursting. A new ball would be nice and some special cat treats would be perfect. His nose started twitching and he licked his lips. He was sure he could smell some scrummy fish.   

    “What are you doing?” Marmalade asked.

    Blackie opened his eyes. There was no fish and his stocking was still empty. He yawned.  He was very tired, but he had to stay up and see Father Chriscat, with his bright red hat and brilliant red coat.

    “I know why Father Chriscat hasn’t come yet. Father Chriscat only comes down the chimney when everyone’s asleep. Let’s pretend we’re asleep and then we’ll see him,” Marmalade said, eagerly.

    So Blackie and Marmalade snuggled down in their bed. Blackie let his eyes droop down until they were half closed and Marmalade did the same.

    “We’re going to see him! This year, we’re actually going to see Father Chriscat,” Marmalade said, trembling with excitement, her eyes flying open again.

    “Shh, he’ll hear you,” Blackie warned. “Listen, I’m sure I can hear tinkling. Close your eyes, Marmalade. He’s here!”

    Marmalade pinched her eyes tightly shut.

    ***

    Father Chriscat flew through the air with the magical mice pulling his sleigh.

    “Woah,” he shouted, spying Blackie and Marmalade’s house.

    Father Chriscat slid down the chimney and crept across to Blackie and Marmalade’s stockings. He filled them with lots of new toys and tasty treats.

    “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, smiling down at the two cats.

    Blackie and Marmalade snored contentedly, both dreaming of the moment they would see Father Chriscat.

    ***

    Images credits: Pinterest

  • Short Story – Merry, the Snowdog

    Merry, the puppy, bounded out through the back door and stopped. It was cold! Very cold. He turned and looked back at his mummy.

    “It’s winter, Merry, and snow is on the way.”

    Merry didn’t know what snow was. He loved the garden in the summer when it was full of pretty flowers and he could doze in the warm sun. He liked autumn too and racing through all the crunchy leaves. But now it was winter and something called snow was coming. He wasn’t sure if he liked the sound of that.

    A few days later and Merry had forgotten all about snow. He had a nice new coat which kept him dry and cozy on his wintry walks and when they arrived home, he was dried with a soft, warm towel before he snuggled up to his mummy, right by the fire.

    One morning, Mummy nudged him awake.

    “It’s been snowing,” she said.   

    Merry raced over to the window. He didn’t mind winter anymore so he was sure he could cope with snow, whatever it was.

    He couldn’t believe his eyes. The grass has been green the day before. Now there was something white and fluffy covering the whole garden.

    Gentle swirls of white floated down to the ground.

    “Is all that white the snow?” Merry asked.

    “Yes,” Mummy said. “That’s snow, Merry.”

    A sudden gust of wind whipped up the snow and squished it against the window. Merry pawed at it eagerly.

    “It’s outside, Merry, not on the inside!” Mummy laughed. “Let’s go outside and play in the snow.”

    Merry followed his mummy outside. He watched as her paws left lots of prints in the snow. Merry jumped after her, looking back at the pretty patterns his own paws were making. It was great fun, but the snow was very cold on his paws!

    “Now you’ve seen the snow, Merry, shall we go inside and cuddle up by the fire?”

    ‘Let’s play chase first,’ Merry cried, leaping into the air and running off, with a twitch of his tail.

    But Merry was running too fast. Suddenly his feet fell over one another and he found himself rolling down to the bottom of the garden. He hoped he stopped soon.

    Merry did. But he couldn’t see anything – only white. He heard Mummy chuckling and tried to move. He couldn’t – he was stuck. With every roll, Merry had gathered up more and more snow.              

    “I’ve seen the children make snowmen in the snow, but I think you’re the very first snowdog, Merry!” Mummy giggled.

    Merry felt Mummy scraping some of the snow away. Now he could move! He shook his fur and all the flakes of snow flew from him, back onto the ground.  He rather liked the idea of being the first snowdog, but it was far too cold to be one for very long.

    Merry yawned. It was quite exhausting being a snowdog too! He was soon inside, nuzzling up to Mummy, before falling fast asleep. Playing in the snow could wait for another day. 

    ***

    Image credit: freepik.com

  • Book Two Cover Colours

    I love these different colour ideas my illustrator has come up with for the cover of book two. Which is your favourite?

  • New Story

    Here’s a new story which will be added to the stories page:

    A New Bed For Lauren

    Boing, boing, boing! It was six o’ clock in the morning and Lauren was bouncing up and down in her cot.

    Lauren loved her cot. It was a bright place to be when the curtains were pulled back and the sun shone through onto the daffodil-yellow blankets and all her cuddly toys. And it was a soft place to be when it was nap time and a snuggly place in the evening when Mummy cuddled up to Lauren and read her a bedtime story.

    Then Lauren would close her eyes and slowly drift off to sleep until six in the morning when her cot was a great place to be for bouncing in!

    “Good morning, Lauren,” Mummy said, yawning and wiping the sleep from her eyes. “You’re getting too big for bouncing in your cot.”

    Lauren stopped bouncing and stared at Mummy. She shook her head. “Not too big.”

    “We’ll have to go shopping for a big girl’s bed,” Mummy said, smiling.

    “No. I love my cot,” Lauren said, wrapping her arms around the cot and hugging it tight.

    “We’ll see,” Mummy said and ruffled Lauren’s hair.

    Later that day, Mummy and Daddy took Lauren around all the furniture shops. There were all sorts of beds – small beds just right for a little girl, beds with ladders, beds with slides and beds which sprung into sofas at the flick of a switch.

    “You can have some nice new bedcovers, too,” Daddy said, pointing to rows and rows of colourful covers.

    Lauren sighed. There were pretty pinks, rosy reds and beautiful blues but none quite like her sunny blankets at home. She didn’t think her teddies would like new covers either.

    “Why don’t you try lying down on one of the beds, Lauren?” Mummy said, taking Lauren over to a particularly comfy looking bed.

    Lauren clambered onto the bed and turned first one way, then the other. She led on her back and she led on her tummy.

    “No, not comfy,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “Not like my cot.”

    Mummy sat down on the bed next to Lauren and stroked her hair gently. “I loved my cot too, Lauren. Grandma says I didn’t want a bed either, just like you.”

    Lauren blinked her tears away. She frowned. But Mummy didn’t sleep in a cot anymore. She slept in a bed.

    “Grandma told me that now I was a big girl, we were going to make my room into a very special room,” Mummy continued, “my cot would stay just where it was but I’d have a new bed, too.”

    Lauren started to smile.

    “Shall we make your room into a special room, too?” Mummy asked.

    …

    Lauren burst through the door of her bedroom and squealed excitedly. Mummy and Daddy followed closely behind.

    “Your new bed will fit perfectly by the chest of drawers and we’ll leave your cot just where it is,” Mummy said, patting her rather large stomach. “This little one is going to love your cot, just as much as her older sister, isn’t she, Lauren?”

    Lauren grinned. Just like her mummy when she was little, Lauren was going to have a new bed, a new little sister and she could still see her cot every day. She wouldn’t be able to sleep in it anymore once her sister was born but perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad. She would always love her cot but she was going to a big girl just like her mummy.

    Besides, her new bed had a beautiful sunshine yellow quilt, was lovely and squishy to lie on and almost as snugly as her cot. But best of all, it was even bouncier. Not that her mummy and daddy had been too pleased when she’d started bouncing up and down on it in the shop. Lauren just couldn’t understand why.

  • Myths and Magic – Illustration Ideas

    The second book in the Saffy’s Secret Quest series is called Myths and Magic. My lovely illustrator has been hard at work coming up with some sketches for inside illustrations. It’s exciting to see the book start to come to life.

  • Book Two

    I’ve been working on the next book in the Saffy’s Secret Quest Series and sent it off to my publisher. It takes a while to get from this stage until it’s ready to be published. One of the longest stages is working on the illustrations for the cover and inside, but it’s also one of the most enjoyable. I’m very lucky as I have a brilliant illustrator and it’s great to work with her on ideas and what pictures to have and where to put them.

    Here are some of her sketches and ideas for the cover of the first book.

    I can’t wait to see what she comes up with for book two!

  • New Story

    Here’s a new story that will be added to the stories page:

    Just Like Grandpa!

    Tom loved spending Saturdays with his Grandpa Joe. Grandpa always taught him something new. This Saturday Grandpa was helping Tom to learn to ride his brand new, shiny blue bicycle. It was a lot bigger than his last one.

    “Do you think I’ll go even faster on this bicycle, Grandpa?” Tom asked excitedly.

    “By the end of the day you’ll be zooming along the lane, just you wait and see,” Grandpa said smiling.

    “Come on, Grandpa. On your marks, get set…Go!”

    Grandpa held Tom carefully as Tom’s legs peddled faster and faster. Grandpa slowly let go.

    “No, Grandpa. I’m going to fall!” Tom cried.

    “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Grandpa said as Tom stopped suddenly.

    Tom looked up into his Grandpa’s kind, brown eyes. Tom’s lip quivered and he started to cry.  

    “I’m no good, Grandpa. I can’t do it.”

    Tom tried to smile as Grandpa wiped his tears away.

    “Yes, you can. Go a little slower this time, Tom. It’ll come. That was only your first go. Let’s try again.”

    Once more, Grandpa held Tom as the little legs pumped round and round, very slowly at first and then a little faster.

    “Don’t let go, Grandpa. I’m not ready. Not just yet,” Tom said.

    “Don’t worry. I’m here. Do you remember when I taught you how to whistle?” Grandpa said and broke into a merry tune.

    Tom joined in and they both laughed when their whistling came to an end.

    “It took you a little while to get the hang of it, didn’t it?” Grandpa said.

    Tom giggled. “I kept making funny ‘thussshhh’ sounds, didn’t I?”

     “You did,” Grandpa said, giggling too. “I was just the same. My grandpa didn’t think I would ever learn to whistle. But I did. Just like you did, Tom.”

    “Did he teach you to hoot like an owl too, Grandpa?”

    “Twit twoo!” Grandpa called out. “He did. I sounded like a very poorly owl to begin with but I got the hang of it in the end.”

    Tom chortled, “Just like me. Twit twoo!”

    “My Grandpa used to take me fishing, too. I wasn’t very good at that at first. I think all I caught was an old boot. We could go fishing one Saturday, Tom. Would you like that?”

    “Yes, please! I think I’ll catch an old boot, just like you.”

     “We’re very alike, Tom, aren’t we?” Grandpa asked.

    “Does that mean it took you a long time to learn to ride your bicycle, too?”

    “No, Tom. That was one thing it didn’t take me long to learn at all.”

    “So I’m not like you, then?” Tom asked sadly, his shoulders sagging.

    Grandpa shouted after him, “Oh, but you are, Tom. You’re riding your bike now, all on your own. I let go a little while ago.”

    For a moment, Tom wobbled from side to side. His lip started to tremble. Then his face broke into a big grin.

    “I can ride my bike! I can do it. Just like my grandpa!”  

  • Book Launch!

    Last weekend, I spent a happy morning in my local children’s bookshop signing books and meeting readers. If any of you would like some colouring pages and/or stickers, please let me know: estherchilton@gmail.com