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“Sally!" My parents' stitched faces beam at us as they throw their downy arms around me. They both wear silk pajamas with midnight-blue robes that surround me like cottony clouds. My heart leaps like a baby lamb. Their candle-wax smell grips me in a familiar embrace, and I feel like a daydreamy little girl again.”

Quote by Megan Shepherd

Book:Hour of the Pumpkin Queen
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Hour of the Pumpkin Queen

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Megan Shepherd

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“I can't help feeling a connection with Luna beyond just our being rag dolls. Both of us quiet. Bookish. Daydreamy. But whereas I grew up as friendless as a lone daisy in a graveyard, Luna has every chance to blossom. Besides, I tell myself, I'm not some lost stray cat hiding in the shadows anymore. Dr. Finkelstein was wrong. I am a queen, and I'm exactly where I belong-- with my family and Jack, who completes me in ways I didn't even know possible.”

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Book:Hour of the Pumpkin Queen
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“I'm honored that my parents trust me enough to take on their jobs when they retire, so how can I refuse? I am originally from Dream Town. This was my bed. This was my home. I can't just ignore my duty. But in a way, the scenes captured in these watercolor paintings feel like someone else's life. Halloween Town is the only home I've ever truly known. Whether or not I belonged there, I grew to adore it. The black cat's chorus of midnight wails. The silver glow of the full moon. The scent of fire-roasted pumpkin soup on an autumn breeze. I used to sit at my barred window in Dr. Finkelstein's house and watch the townspeople like they were characters in my own macabre little dollhouse: the Mayor wheeling around in his hearse. The trio of musicians playing a morose melody. The corpse family bringing in the pumpkin harvest with their lumbering gaits and rattling chains. They all became such dear characters to me, even if half of them never knew my name. And so, when I married Jack and became the Pumpkin Queen, it meant everything that they embraced me. There were bumps along the road, of course, but now I'm traipsing around that macabre little dollhouse village with them all. Dancing. Delivering potions. Making queenly proclamations. Even now, it brings tears to my eyes. I want to hold on to this beautiful feeling of belonging for all eternity.”

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Book:Hour of the Pumpkin Queen
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“Despite nearly drowning and narrowly avoiding a mermaid's song, I'm intrigued by this new world. I'm curious how their ruler determines what makes a hero and what makes a villain. It can't be as simple as which side of town a character lives on, if they have horns or halos or use swords or spells. There might have been a time when I thought good and evil were clear-cut, but that all changed when Jack set out to save Christmas and ended up ruining it instead. He became the villain instead of the hero he yearned to be. And what about me? I live in a world of monsters who, by most reckonings, would be considered villains. Yet that's the last way I think about gentle Behemoth, sweet little Zero, friendly Undersea Gal. Do they think of me as a hero simply because I come from a land of sweet dreams? Of course not. If they look at me with any admiration, it's because of my efforts as queen, not the crown alone.”

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Book:Hour of the Pumpkin Queen
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“If you reach a brick wall, don’t bang your head on it. You will only hurt yourself. The longer you keep banging, the more blood there will be. It is there for a reason. The road ahead wasn’t going to work. Wipe the blood away, dust yourself down, dry your tears, and take a moment to assimilate your loss. Then, turn in a different direction and keep moving. Up ahead, unbeknown to you, is a clear road waiting for your footsteps.”

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Book:Sonder: Spiritual Fiction
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“Crisp autumn leaves whip our faces, but then, we break free from the canopy. Nothing but vast sky surrounds us above and all around. Below, Fable Town stretches as far as my eyes can see. Adjusting his satchel strap around his chest, Scorch straightens out his flight path to run parallel to the ground. We skim the clouds over dwarfs' cottages and fairy rings of red-capped mushrooms. Scorch crests a hill, and the impenetrable canopy of trees that makes up Villain Village stretches beneath us. In the distance, the spire of a crumbling, dark castle rises over a tangled, thorny thicket. A salty breeze ruffles my eyelashes, and before I know it, Scorch plunges down a cliff and flies us over the Fabled Sea. I spot the deep blue water where we fell. The half-submersed shipwreck. The beach where we collapsed in tearful, soggy joy. We fly over a rocky promontory where the mermaid warbles her siren song up at us, but the wind blows away her words before she can ensnare us.”

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Book:Hour of the Pumpkin Queen
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“Look,” I began, “I get it. You don’t like me, but—” “I don’t like you?” He let out a low, flat laugh. One fell into the next, and it was awful—not at all him. He was half choking on them as he turned around, shaking his head. It almost sounded like a sob, the way his breath burst out of him. “I don’t like you,” he repeated, his face bleak. “I don’t like you?” “Liam—” I started, alarmed. “I can’t—I can’t think about anything or anyone else,” he whispered. A hand drifted up, dragging back through his hair. “I can’t think straight when you’re around. I can’t sleep. It feels like I can’t breathe—I just—” “Liam, please,” I begged. “You’re tired. You’re barely over being sick. Let’s just… Can we just go back to the others?” “I love you.” He turned toward me, that agonized expression still on his face. “I love you every second of every day, and I don’t understand why, or how to make it stop—” He looked wild with pain; it pinned me in place, even before what he had said registered in my mind. “I know it’s wrong; I know it down to my damn bones. And I feel like I’m sick. I’m trying to be a good person, but I can’t. I can’t do it anymore.”

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“Stay out of this, Green!” He was still wholly focused on Chubs. “What else did you tell her? What else did she get out of you?” I jerked back, one single word throwing me off balance. “What did you just call her?” Chubs interrupted. Of course he had caught it, too. “What? I’m not allowed to use her name now?” he demanded. The look on his face was ripe with derision. “What do you want me to call you? What clever codename did the League think up for you? Pumpkin? Tiger? Tangerine?” “You called me Green,” I said. “No I didn’t,” he said. “Why the hell would I call you that? I know what you are.” “You did,” Chubs insisted. “You called her Green. You really don’t remember?”

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Book:Never Fade
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