My Debut Novel

The Secret of the Book Keeper

Theo, a 17-year-old American backpacker exploring Europe, tries to brush off the odd behavior of the townspeople of Bridgingdale, an obscure English village—until a suspicious fire in the town square reveals the first of the town’s many secrets.

At the center of it all is the mysterious and daring 17-year-old Leyna, a Book Keeper with an ancient calling to mend tears between the literary world and reality.

When fantastical monsters and villains start escaping their stories, Leyna insists it is someone else’s nefarious doing, but the townspeople refuse to accept this as possible. Only Theo believes her. Together they must work to discover and stop the saboteur before it’s too late . . . for both worlds.

Read the First Chapter from The Secret of the Book Keeper

Chapter 1

Wind and rain battered at the map, seeping through the paper. Raindrops trickled down the lines indicating paths and roads, altering them into streams and rivers. Theo pulled his bike off the trail and dragged it under a clump of swaying trees. The coverage of the leaves did little to protect him from the pelting rain, which came from all directions: down, sideways, and—Theo could swear—up.

He pulled out his phone from the side pocket of his pack, frustration boiling at the sight of the flashing “No Service” at the top of the screen. The map function had gone haywire a couple of miles back, silencing the mechanical voice dictating directions. He attempted to wrangle the map in a gust of wind and flattened the paper against the handlebars. He combed over each inch, trying to retrace his steps.

A couple of days earlier, Theo had left his buddies, Eli and Drew, and their chaperones, Drew’s aunt and uncle, in London to explore the pubs and nightlife. His chaperones, wanting to be the fun adults, were fine when Theo left for a couple of days on his own as long as he checked in throughout the day by text. Theo knew his parents back home wouldn’t notice the difference. He had hopped on a train headed north to Sheffield, and after a few bus rides and a visit to a bike rental shop, he was off to conquer the rugged rock walls within England’s national park, the Peak District. Eli and Drew couldn’t see the appeal of it all, but Theo had felt the electrifying anticipation ever since they landed in Europe a few weeks earlier. However, even with all of his preparations, he still found himself huddled under a tree in the pounding rain and, worst of all—lost.

He traced his finger up a dotted line on the map to Stanage Edge, the cliffs he had climbed just the day before. His finger meandered down the map over land he had already covered in the English National Park. According to the map, his next crag to conquer, the Roaches, shouldn’t be too far away.

He thought back to the quaint hotel where he had eaten lunch just an hour or so before, his finger searching for it on the map. As he finished his meal, he noticed the clouds billowing together in dark, daunting mounds overhead. The owner of the hotel, an older gentleman with sparse gray hair and glasses teetering on the edge of his nose, had come to clear his plate.

“You should be careful with this storm brewin’,” the owner had warned.

“I’ll be fine.” Theo shrugged off the suggestion as he pulled on his backpack. He had assumed the owner had no concept of the adrenaline rush that came with racing on a bike in defiance of the elements.

“Just be sure you stay on the main road. There have been stories of travelers gettin’ lost in the woods.” The owner’s eyes flickered with intensity behind his gold-rimmed glasses.

Theo didn’t respond, but just smiled as he paid the bill.

As he walked to his bicycle, the older man called after him again, “Remember what I said: Stay on the main road. Some travelers have never been found.”

Theo waved in response, but couldn’t help shaking his head. On the map, the forest that lined the road looked minuscule; almost impossible for someone to get lost in. Theo put on his helmet and cycled away from the hotel without a second thought to the owner’s concern. He followed a path along the side of the main road, less than a mile from the hotel. It led into the dense forest of trees and greenery, and it looked like a straight shot to the Roaches.

The thunder ricocheted off the trees of the dark forest, echoing the eerie warning of the hotel owner. Theo mentally reviewed each step, trying to figure out where he had lost his way. He was positive that by now he should have intersected with the A6, one of the main roads that ran through the park. He scanned the map again, searching for the path he was on, but there was nothing.

“It’s like it disappeared,” Theo muttered under his breath and threw the useless map down onto the soaking ground.

He peered through the dripping leaves at the trail, which had become a swift stream. He groaned and picked up the drenched map, folding it and shoving it into the front pocket of his pack. He swung his muscular leg over the bike and kicked off, leaving a spray of mud behind him. He leaned forward, squinting through the wall of water that poured relentlessly from the skies. The bike slid rebelliously in the mud, like a wild bull trying to buck off its rider.

The impact happened abruptly, throwing Theo over the handlebars. After a full front flip, he landed on his back in the mud. His lungs begged for air as the wind was knocked out of him. He sat up slowly, gasping. He ran his hands over his arms and then down his calves to his ankles.

No broken bones, he thought.

He turned to the mangled frame of the bike lying lifelessly in a puddle and assessed the damage. The front tire was blown out. The culprit of the collision was a sharp stone jutting out of the ground in the center of the path.

“How did I not see that?” he mumbled in irritation.

He staggered over to the bike, and upon closer inspection, could see that the front rim was bent out of shape. He cursed as he picked the bike up off the ground and trudged alongside it, following the water-logged trail, his broken bike forcing him to a painfully slow pace. Each footstep made a sickening, sucking sound as if the ground’s intent was to swallow him whole. His bike hobbled next to him like a wounded animal, its head down in shame.

Less than ten minutes had passed when Theo noticed the path ahead widened to a narrow dirt road. As he rounded a corner, the lush foliage along the roadside thinned just enough to reveal a small stone cottage. He perked up a bit.

Maybe there’s a town up ahead where I can at least get some directions.

As he trekked along, he noticed fields full of crops behind the cottage. Another minute passed and through the pattering rain, he observed two more stone houses. He had no clue what village this was, but his hope grew at the possibility of a place to eat or a shop with parts needed to fix his bike. As he neared the homes, he felt prickling goosebumps on the back of his neck, sensing he was being watched. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of red and green plaid curtains snap shut in the large front window of the first home.

Friendly bunch they’ve got here, Theo thought with a roll of his eyes.

The dirt road soon turned to a quaint cobblestone street lined with houses and buildings that looked straight from a postcard. Pitched roofs made of wooden shingles peeked above shady trees. All the buildings and houses were built from the same limestone of streaking tans and dusty grays that muddled together in the dreary downpour. Some homes had colorful shutters and flower boxes outside the windows. Others had small fenced-off gardens and patches of land lined with rock walls. A handful of buildings had signs hanging over the front doors indicating businesses.

He stopped at the first building and peered at the swinging sign, which read “Library” in swirling crimson letters. It was a small one-level building connected to a two-story home with matching red shutters. He had high hopes that someone in the library could give him a clue on where he was, where he could get some bike parts, and most of all, how he could get out of there and on his way to more rugged cliffs.

He propped his bike against the stone wall that lined the property and pulled off his bike helmet. Shaking out his wet hair, he placed the helmet on the wall next to his bike. He pushed open the iron gate, which swung shut behind him with a bang, and trod down the path to the heavy front door, which opened with a creak. He stepped into a dimly lit room with only a few rows of full bookshelves. He blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the low light, and glanced around the room looking for a computer, but saw none.

“We’re closed,” a stern voice announced.

A plump woman with graying hair piled on top of her head hustled out from a curtained doorway which Theo assumed was a back storage room. Her eyes looked like full moons behind her round, black-rimmed glasses. He couldn’t tell if she was actually astonished or if that was just the effect of the thick lenses.

“Excuse me; I was hoping for some directions. I got lost when I took a path a few miles back. I was on my way to the Roaches, but I’m guessing I’m nowhere close to there,” Theo explained.

The woman looked at him severely, hands on rounded hips, and declared more forcefully, “We’re closed.”

“Sorry, I just was wondering if you could at least tell me where I am?” Theo asked with as much politeness as he could muster, though he couldn’t completely block his annoyance from seeping through. He couldn’t figure out why this woman refused to match his forced manners and be more helpful.

A soft buzzing noise, like a fly, or perhaps one of the flickering lights overhead, caught his attention. He glanced at the checkout table and swore he saw a book twitch a little. The book looked ancient, with a soft leather cover and faded gold edging on the pages.

He looked back at the librarian and was amazed that her eyes grew even wider.

“Mice,” she stated matter-of-factly through her pursed lips. “Now out with you, before you get all the books wet.” She waved her hands, shooing him out the door.

He stumbled out onto the stoop as the door slammed behind him. The rain had picked up again. He stared out into the thick curtain of water, trying to decide what to do next. He ran his fingers through his drenched sandy-blond hair and rubbed the back of his neck, which was still stiff from the crash.

He heard yelling and a commotion of clucking chickens from the other side of the adjoined home. Curiosity tugged him across the property, past the small library, and around the corner of the stone house. He came upon a makeshift fence made of wood slats, sticks, and twine that enclosed a few farm animals. On the other side of the fence the ground was muddy, and even in the downpour, the waft of manure overwhelmed his nostrils. A slight figure bounded across the yard through the muck, chasing chickens toward the open door of a weathered barn covered in peeling white paint.

”Help with the cows!” the girl’s voice rang through the thick, drenched air.

Theo looked around to see who the girl was shouting to. There was no one standing there but him. As she disappeared into the barn, he debated if he should head down the road, pretending he didn’t hear her. He could hear his Uncle Jack’s rough voice in his mind reprimanding him. Help where you can. Life is more about what you give than what you get. It was one of Uncle Jack’s favorite sayings to toss around, especially when he was urging Theo to think outside of himself.

Theo glanced down at his expensive cycling shoes. They were soaked through and a shade of dark brown from the sludge and water.

“Might as well add some manure to the mix,” he mumbled to no one but himself.

He placed his hands on a section of the fence that seemed sturdy enough to hold his weight and hopped over the shaky structure. He noticed a black-and-white spotted cow huddled with her calf under the protection of the eaves of the house. He took hesitant steps toward the cows, not sure what to do next.

“Ok, Bessie, let’s go, girl,” he coaxed as he edged nearer to the animals. The cow eyed him with her soft brown eyes and blinked, unfazed.

He clapped his hands this time as if he was calling a dog. “Come here, girl, come on Bessie, come to the barn.”

The cow turned away from him and gave a low, drawn-out moo.

Theo caught a glimpse of the girl herding a sow and her piglets into the barn with ease. She wore knee-high boots over fitted tan pants, her white button-up shirt hanging heavy with water. Dark ringlets escaped from her bun, creating a curly halo around her temples.

“Try nudging the cow by her shoulder blade—the calf will follow,” the girl yelled over her shoulder without really looking at him as she disappeared into the barn.

Theo stepped to the side of the cow and pressed against her dense shoulder. The cow didn’t budge. Theo pushed harder. The cow turned her head and blinked blankly at Theo. He leaned with all his weight against the warm, bristly side of the cow, digging his heels deep into the thick muck. The cow sidestepped and gave an annoyed grunt. As soon as Theo relented, the stubborn animal moved back under the eaves, shielded from the downpour.

Theo stepped around to face the cow and bent down a little so they were eye to eye. “Bessie, you will be warm in the barn. I’m sure there is hay or oats or whatever you eat in there.” The cow gave no response.

“Ok, Bessie, you aren’t going to like this, but it’s for your own good.”

He leaned down and placed both of his arms underneath the little calf and picked it up. The calf’s legs dangled helplessly like limp laundry pinned to a clothesline. The calf let out a frantic bleat to its mother. Theo walked out into the rain, grunting with effort. The calf cried harder. Theo looked over his shoulder and smiled with triumph as Bessie began to head his way. Bessie’s walk turned to a trot and Theo sped up his pace. The cow bellowed after him and his pace became a full-on stumbling run.

He bolted into the barn. “Where does this go?” he yelled.

“The cow’s pen is to your right,” the girl answered. She was busy brushing the black mane of a regal, chestnut-colored horse on the other side of the barn.

He dashed into the pen, placed the calf onto the straw-covered ground, and hurdled over the boards that made up the pen’s partition. Bessie entered the barn at Theo’s heels, but once she observed the safely returned calf, she nestled down by her young in a blanket of golden hay.

“That was brave,” the girl laughed. “That little calf was born just a couple of days ago. He’s a bit of a runt, to be honest. Can you believe this storm? It rushed in, chucking down rain so hard. I was out in the fields with Thunder and we were completely drenched before we were halfway home.”

The echo of her footsteps accompanied her chatter as she made her way across the barn. He turned to look at her and replied, “Who’s Thunder?”

The girl froze, her mouth making a small O in astonishment. He shifted nervously under her surprised gaze.

“I don’t know you.” She looked at him in shock.

“And, I don’t know you,” Theo replied with a soft chuckle.

“I’m sorry, I, um, saw you standing there by the fence and, I, uh, assumed you were a neighbor. I didn’t realize . . .” she stammered, leaving her point unfinished.

“My name is Theo. Theo Daniels.” He held out his hand as a friendly offer.

The girl closed the gap between them and shook it. Her hands were slender, yet firm. She had a tawny complexion with a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, her cheeks flushed pink. Theo sensed embarrassment from her, or perhaps her blush was from the cold rain. Water droplets from the downpour clung to her dark eyelashes.

“Leyna,” she said, cutting into his thoughts. “My name is Leyna Applegate, and Thunder is the name of my horse.”

“That is a fitting name for a day like today,” Theo jested.

Leyna looked at him with grave eyes. Not responding to his banter, she asked, “How did you get here?”

“I took a path I thought was a shortcut and got lost in the rain. Where am I, anyway? I didn’t see a village on the map.”

“You wouldn’t find us on any map. Our village is rather small,” Leyna answered, averting her eyes from his gaze.

“I find that hard to believe—these British maps are about as detailed as I’ve ever seen. How small is this town anyway?”

“There are just under two hundred of us that live here. There used to be many more people, but. . .” she shifted nervously and then said abruptly, “Why are you here, anyway?”

Theo tilted his head in confusion. “Well, as I explained, I’m in your town because I got lost in the rain, I’m in your barn because you asked for help, and I’m in England because I’m on a backpacking trip across Europe with my buddies. A trip that was a present from my excuse of a dad that came a couple of months too late after he missed . . .” he trailed off, realizing he was sharing too much.

“Where are your mates?” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Probably partying in some London club right now. I decided to go solo for a few days to do some biking and rock climbing.” “Rock climbing; you like to climb mountains?”

“I do. Back home I mostly climb in places around California, which is where I’m from. I make it up to Yosemite a couple of times a year. Last summer, I climbed Mount Kilimanjaro in Africa with my Uncle Jack. It was an insanely hard hike instead of scaling a sheer cliff like I’m used to.” Theo couldn’t help but brag a little.

“You must be very well off to be able to jaunt around the world.”

Theo bristled at her comment. Here we go, another person thinking I’m just a stereotypical rich kid.

“California, you said? Let me guess, you’re a son of a movie star?” she scoffed.

“Not a chance,” Theo rolled his eyes, though he chose to omit the fact that his dad was someone who made people stars, with his slicked-back hair and his overly smooth voice that grated at Theo’s eardrums every time his dad chose to give one of his sporadic calls.

“I’m not sure why you’re interrogating me.” Theo folded his arms across his chest with a glare.

“I’m not interrogating you. I’m just curious. We don’t get many people passing through Bridgingdale,” Leyna said with a shrug.

“Maybe the population of Bridgingdale could work on their people skills and you might have a few more visitors.” Theo was letting his rising temper get the best of him. “As much as I am enjoying this conversation, I really need to get parts for my bike. I’m also starving and wouldn’t mind some dinner, so could you please tell me where I could find either of those things in this little town of yours? I would be most grateful.”

Leyna stepped back from Theo’s thunder, her green eyes flashing. “There’s a pub down the way and you can check the shop next to it, but I doubt they would have parts for a posh bike like yours, being that this is such a poor, little town.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Theo muttered.

Leyna turned on her heel with a huff, stomping across the hay-covered slats of the barn.

Theo shook his head in frustration and made his way to the open barn door, only stopping to bid farewell to the nuzzling cow and calf.

“Goodbye, Bessie. Goodbye, Bessie Jr. It was a pleasure saving you from freezing to death in the pouring rain,” Theo said loud enough for Leyna to hear.

“The cow’s name is Laura,” Leyna’s voice spiked with annoyance.

Theo burst out in laughter. “You named your cow ‘Laura’? What’s the calf’s name?”

“Duke,” Leyna spat the name out at him.

Theo snickered again. “Well, have fun, Laura and Duke; I’m not sure if it’s more unpleasant out in the rain or here in the barn,” he shot back at Leyna as he stomped out.

The rain had let up to a gray drizzle. He sloshed through the sludge back to the shifty fence and hurdled himself over.

That’s the last time I’m following Uncle Jack’s goodwill advice.

He had made his way back to the gate and his broken bike when guilt started to seep in. He began to regret the quick comebacks he had flung at Leyna, knowing full well his annoyance at being lost and the librarian’s rude reaction weren’t her fault. He wondered why their conversation had turned sour so quickly.

“Leyna!”

The piercing cry made Theo jump. He turned to see the librarian rushing across the saturated grass, waving a leather-bound book in her hand. She didn’t seem to notice Theo standing by the gate.

“Yes, Aunt Martha?” Leyna called as she sprinted through the barn doors and met the librarian at the makeshift fence.

“Where have you been? I fear we have incoming if you don’t hurry!” Martha anxiously adjusted her rain-speckled glasses.

Leyna glanced at Theo standing nearby and frowned. She leaned in close to her aunt and whispered a response. Their voices were hushed, but whatever they were saying, Theo could tell it was urgent. Leyna swung her leg with the grace of a ballerina and climbed over the fence. She and the librarian rushed back to the house. Theo gripped the handlebars of his bike and turned to leave, the whole situation making him tense and uneasy.