Ah, so you came. It is in your best interest that I warn you right now about the world you are about to enter – about the story that I am about to tell. But if you are brave enough, if you are curious enough, if you are daring enough - come. To be quite honest, I have eagerly waiting for you. This tale has lived on the tip of my tongue, pressed in secrecy between my two lips. But I do believe you are the right person. After all, if you had been, you wouldn’t have come. So, my darlings, I would like to welcome you…
the mind of E.M.Peterson//

Email: exlibris9@gmail.com
~E. M. Peterson~
  • Curse of the Nine: Snippet IV

    “That’s quite alright, Mr. Thomas. I feel like I must be intruding, I better go.  But thank you.  I’ll come back to visit another time.” The voice replied before making graceful steps towards the door.  Suddenly the squeaking wood stopped.

                “ T’ere some-fing I can help ye wi’f?”                          

                “No,” the voice giggled.  Jack was certain it was a girl but she had yet to step into his view. “I was just ‘admiring’ is all.” 

                “JA’K!” boomed Mr. Thomas. “Ge’ ba’k ta work!” 

                In an instant, Jack sloppily began to push books desperately onto the shelf.  A faint blush burned against his cheeks as the girl left the store.


                After he finally completed his job, Jack rushed to the front desk with empty box in hand.

                “Who was that?” he asked Mr. Thomas, setting down the cardboard.

                “Who was wa’t?”

                “The girl who stopped in.”

                “W’at girl?”

                “What do you mean ‘W’at girl’?!  The one who stopped in just now!”

                “Don ye be raisin’ tat voice!  Twas jus’ yer imagin’ fings.”

                “But I heard you two talking!  She brought medicine.”

                “Ja’k, just go ba’k ta yer book.  Ye only have another two ‘ours ‘fore ye need ta get.” 

                Jack grumbled knowing that Mr. Thomas was right but it still stung to think that the bookkeeper wouldn’t tell him.  He sighed and found his way back onto the couch, trying to desperately escape his burning curiosity.  Finally, after a few scenes, he disappeared back inside the world of Shakespeare.  His eyes rarely lifted from the page as the actors dances about inside his head.  But alas, the clock moved with such swiftness to point accusing hands at 9:00 p.m.

                “Alrigh’y boy, tim’ ta ge’ goin’.” Mr. Thomas said, patting the couch. “Keep da book.  I’s a gif’.  An’ don’ ferg’t yer umbrella!”

                Jack watched Mr. Thomas in surprise until he disappeared into the back room of the shop.  He quickly turned over the large hardcover to find a price of £30.00!  He rushed to the door in a huff and pounded on it.

                “Mr. Thomas!  Mr. Thomas, I can’t accept this!  Mr. Thomas!”

                “Ge’ outta my shop, Ja’k.  I’ll see ye next we’k.”  grumbled the tired voice.

                Jack bit his lip, holding back his hand from knocking against the dark oak door once more.  He carefully tucked the book under his arms before taking off down the aisle, grinning wider than the English Channel.  The store’s bell announced his leave as he hurried onto Kowl Avenue. 

    His eyes were blazing with passion and his heart bounded about in his chest.  He could feel the wind whip his hair into a mess of small waves while the rain soaked rapidly into his clothes.  The dark gloomy sky drummed steadily as lightning rumbled amongst each cloud.  Huckleberry Lane wasn’t too far and as he turned the corner onto Augusten Street, he could see the boarding school lurking in the distance.  The road was much more crowded than the others for it led directly into the heart of London.  

    © E.M. Peterson exlibris9.tumblr.com 

    Email: exlibris9@gmail.com