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Jacquelyn and the Sparkly Emo Vampire Goat
Jacquelyn and the Sparkly Emo Vampire Goat
Jacquelyn and the Sparkly Emo Vampire Goat
Ebook53 pages36 minutes

Jacquelyn and the Sparkly Emo Vampire Goat

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They say youngest daughters have a magic all their own. With six older sisters preparing for the next royal ball, and a magical, talking goat on her hands, can Jacquelyn see that everyone gets their happy ever after?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 27, 2017
ISBN9781546945031
Jacquelyn and the Sparkly Emo Vampire Goat
Author

A.G. Carpenter

A.G. Carpenter writes fiction of (and for) all sorts. Her short stories have appeared in Daily Science Fiction, Abyss & Apex, and Nature Magazine - Futures. She prefers Die Hard to When Harry Met Sally and The Good, The Bad and The Ugly over Animal House. Her favorite color is black. Repped by Bob Mecoy.

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    Jacquelyn and the Sparkly Emo Vampire Goat - A.G. Carpenter

    CONTENTS

    ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

    Many thanks to the doubters and naysayers. My sense of humor comes out with a vengeance when I hear that something can’t be done.

    Also, as always, so much gratitude to my first-reader, Marian, who reminds me that my inner editor exists only to make me doubt myself. And my very patient agent, Bob Mecoy, who supports me even when I write about goats and feminism instead of all the epic things.

    And thanks to my husband, who has taught me a thing or two about being funny.

    Chapter One

    Once upon a time there was an old man who had seven daughters, each of them more lovely than the last. Well, except for the youngest.

    It was not that Jacquelyn was plain. But she was, by necessity and preference, practical and her hair was usually bound up out of the way and her fair skin darkened with sun and the dirt that comes from working in the garden and hauling water and chopping wood. She worked beside her father, sun-up to sun-down, and though their farm and their house was small, they got by from year to year.

    And then, one day, her father refused to get out of bed, as fathers are wont to do as the years begin to weigh upon them. He groaned and fussed and flapped the covers about, but his feet stayed under the sheets and his head upon the pillow.

    Jacq, he said. I’m afraid I’m ill and you will have to look after things by yourself.

    Jacquelyn pressed her hand against his forehead. You don’t seem to have a fever.

    But he scowled and pulled the covers up to his chin. Well, I feel hot and I’m not getting up.

    Yes, Papa. And Jacquelyn bound her braids on top of her head and went about the daily chores. Truth be told she’d been doing most of the work herself the past year, even though she had her father to keep her company. So it wasn’t long before the animals had been fed and garden looked after, the house swept out and soup put on the stove to cook for dinner.

    Then she made some tea, took a cup upstairs and sat down at her father’s bedside. How do you feel, Papa?

    Hot. And my head aches. He fussed with the covers. I think I need some medicine from the doctor.

    Jacquelyn frowned. "Are you certain? Last time he gave us

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