Fairy Perfume

By Emily Martha Sorensen

Jasmine's terrible at keeping secrets. It's a shame she's going to need to, because she's found a perfume that allows her to smell fairies.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emily Martha Sorensen
• Release date: Jan 11, 2019

Emily Martha Sorensen

Books were my first love and best friends growing up, which I did in five states and four countries. My love of storytelling has never waned, and I've always wanted to write -- and share -- my own stories.I love fantasy, especially fairy tale retellings, fascinating magic systems, humor, and clean paranormal romance. I like science fiction too, but the more magic in a story, the more pleased I'm likely to be.I have two comics, the first of them complete, the second ongoing. I enjoy reading, writing, drawing, crafts, editing, and I occasionally play videogames.

Book preview

Chapter One

Jasmine found the perfume at the bottom of her sock drawer.

She pulled it out and stared at it, puzzled.  Why was there a perfume bottle in her sock drawer?  It was glass and pretty, sort of heart-shaped, and she could see it was full of liquid inside.  The top was dark and elegant, like a twisty teardrop.

She tugged at the lid, but it wouldn’t budge.  She tried twisting it instead, and that worked better.  There was a nozzle inside to spray it.

Well, what else would you do when you found a mysterious perfume bottle in your sock drawer?  She sprayed it.

Mist trickled down through the air in front of her, and she caught a whiff of fresh grass and wet dirt, exactly the way the world smelled in spring after a rain.

Jasmine stared at the bottle, puzzled.  Who would make perfume that smelled like grass and dirt?  She thought perfume was supposed to smell like flowers.

Well, she liked it better than her mother’s perfume, which was fancy and snooty, so she sprayed it again.  This time, the mist created a scent of soap and roses.

What? Jasmine thought, confused.  How did it change?

She tried again, and the perfume smelled like rotten food.

She tried a fourth time, and the perfume smelled like nothing.

Weirdest.  Perfume.  Ever!

Pancakes! her father called from downstairs.

Jasmine tossed the bottle into her sock drawer and grabbed her sneakers from her closet.  She dashed for the door, then turned around and ran back to her dresser and pulled the bottle out again, stuffing it in her jeans pocket.  It was too weird to forget about.  She should show it to her friends.

She found her father in the kitchen, cooking breakfast as usual.  Her mother worked nights, so she didn’t wake up until noon.

Hey, Dad, Jasmine said.

Hey, Jas, he said, flipping a pancake over.

Wanna see something weird? she asked.

Not if it’s another funny face that involves sticking your finger up your nostril.

Jasmine giggled.  No, not that.  Look.  She dug the bottle out of her pocket and held it up.  I found this in my sock drawer.  Did Mom put it there?

Must have, Jasmine’s father said.  She did the laundry last night while we were sleeping.

The smell keeps changing.  I don’t know why.

Really?  Jasmine’s father flipped the pancakes off the pan and onto a plate.  He dropped more butter on the pan and poured batter on top of it.  Lemme smell.

Jasmine held it up in front of his nose and sprayed it.

He jerked back as the mist got up his nose.  Achoo! he sneezed.  Okay, I don’t smell anything.

Sometimes it doesn’t smell like anything, Jasmine said.  Sometimes it smells like dirt and grass.  Sometimes it smells like rotten food.  Sometimes it smells like soap and roses.

Weird, her father said.

Let’s try again, Jasmine said.  She sprayed the perfume bottle next to his face instead of right into it this time.  What does it smell like now?

He sniffed.  Still nothing.

Jasmine sniffed.  You’re wrong.  It smells like orange peels and raw potatoes.

Her father laughed.  Reminds me of your mother’s sandalwood perfume.  She swears it smells like a fresh forest after rain.  I say it smells like mold.

Jasmine giggled.

Well, let’s eat our pancakes before they go cold, her father said, flipping the fresh pancakes onto a second plate.  He turned off the stove and set the pan to the side.

Jasmine took the first plate and headed to the table.  It was Thursday, which meant her older sister was at softball practice, which the coach held before school because the field got used by the football team after school.

It was fun when she got to have breakfast alone with her father.  It’d happened a lot since her brother had gone off to college.  It made her feel like an only child, which she would not mind being.  Her big brother and sister were annoying.

So what’s new at school? her father asked,