Read an Excerpt
From A Snicker of Magic
Mama slowed the van and leaned her arm across me. "Take a look, June Bug. We're here." She pointed to a sign that somebody'd painted up and shoved sideways into the hillside. A flickering spotlight shone up at the words:
Midnight Gulch, TennesseeA Proper Place to Call Home
"Used to read different, before they painted over it," Mama said. "It used to say—"
"A magical place to call home." I whispered. I didn't need her to tell me. I could already see the word, MAGICAL, shining as bright as sunshine-letters, even through all those layers of paint. I could see other words too. The stars above us spelled out:
summerwonderhomespun
I heard a poem tangled up inside a rush of the midnight songs the crickets were whistling:
Finally,At last,Forever, and now,Here you are.
I didn't say another word to Mama that night, but I could feel something good even then: the YES in my heart, the swirling-around in my belly, the prickly, tingling all the way from the freckle on my finger to the tip of my pinky-toe. That much wonderful could only mean one thing:
There was still magic in Midnight Gulch.
This is how I turned it loose . . .
