Coupons & Dreams

By Talina Adamo

When tragedy strikes the Brooks family, three young lives are changed forever. Utterly alone, Michael, Nancy, and Kevin are forced to fend for themselves, their home, and their sanity . . . struggling through unthinkable grief that threatens to tear them apart.  
Kevin must give up his dreams of college in order to secure custody of h

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trytale Publishing
• Release date: Apr 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781734772807

Talina Adamo

Adamo began writing poetry and music at the age of seven. Later in life she transitioned from music to film production and fell in love with screenwriting, directing and digital editing. With a plethora of music videos and film and television projects under her belt, she became an award-winning screenwriter, producer, and director. She is a member of SAG-AFTRA, the co-founder of Black Onyx Productions, LLC and the Palm Beach County Filmmakers. Coupons & Dreams is her debut children's title. To learn more about her work, be sure to sign up for her email list at www.TalinaAdamo.com

Book preview

Coupons & Dreams by Talina Adamo

This is a work of fiction. Names characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2020 by Talina Adamo

All rights reserved.

Except for the use of any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or any other means now known or hereafter invented, are forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Cover Designed by Levierre

Published by Trytale Publishing, LLC

www.Trytalepublishing.com

EISBN- 978-1-7347728-0-7

ISBN- 978-1-7347728-1-4

Contents

1. THE WILLOW SISTERS

2. THE STORYMAKER

3. CHANGE IS IN THE AIR

4. THE BLACK SHEEP & THE CRADLE ROBBER

5. A DEER IN HEADLIGHTS

6. PAY THE TOLL

7. A KNOCK AT THE DOOR

8. GOOD FRIENDS

9. TIME TO SAY GOODBYE

10. THE SOCIAL WORKER

11. THE VISIT

12. SPARE CHANGE

13. THE VILLAGE & THE DREAMER

14. THE JOB INTERVIEW

15. FIRST IMPRESSIONS

16. SCHOOL DAYS

17. MOVIN' ON UP

18. STORY TIME

19. THE FINAL NOTICE

20. THE CONTRACT

21. SCHOOL BLUES

22. KITCHEN CRAZE

23. THE BUM, THE HERO

24. DINNER AT EMILY'S

25. HARDER TIMES

26. EVEN HARDER TIMES

27. THE GOOD NEWS

28. HAPPY ENDINGS

29. THE BAD GUY

30. THE BOOK SIGNING

31. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Dedication

To God & my parents,

for loving and bringing me into this world.

To all my amazing fans, family and friends, for believing in me and for your support.

To my loved ones who have passed,

for guiding me from the other side.

Kevin Humes, without whom this book would not exist, I am grateful for our friendship.

Mara Diaz, for always being there by my side, helping and cheering me on through all my endeavors.

To my beloved husband, Ryan Oblander, for your never-ending support, encouragement and patience.

I love you dearly.

To my cherished sons, Tristan and Ethan.

I hope this inspires you to never give up on your dreams, and to never judge a book by its’ cover.

In Memory Of

Michael Haney

May you rest in peace.

CHAPTER ONE

THE WILLOW SISTERS

MOONBEAMS DANCED BETWEEN TREE LEAVES AND through the windows of a small colonial cottage where three peasant sisters pranced around in their kitchen with a purpose . . . supper. Flames from a fire pit flickered below them. Two of the women fussed over a large, cast iron cauldron that bubbled wildly.

They were both tall, attractive, and about a half a century old. Their hands gripped a stirring stick tightly, and they jolted each other in a huff. Elda and Olga were always fighting.

A decade younger and shortest of the three, Agnes was in the corner, holding a beautiful, leather-bound recipe book in one hand and tracing the words with the other. An earthy, stone, talisman ring shimmered on her middle finger. She was petite, full-figured, and her fair skin contrasted with her flowing jet-black hair.

It matched the iridescent plumage of her beloved pet crow, who was dozing on a perch in the corner amidst the chaos of the kitchen. He was used to the racket.

Agnes twitched her fingers towards some vegetables, herbs, and a small, glass bottle filled with a yellow liquid on a nearby table. Her hazel eyes beamed a bright amber light, as they focused on the objects intensely. Suddenly, they began to levitate around her. It was magic. With another flick of her

fingers, the levitating objects floated towards the cauldron – mushrooms, tomatoes, rosemary and such

– was that yellow stuff olive oil? An Italian dish perhaps? She led the two women in a spell.

She began to chant. Lavanda per sogni’ d’oro e salvia per la lotta.

Un po ‘diquesto, un po ‘di quello, un po ‘di magia bianca, the sisters sang together.

Elda let go of the stirring stick, giving it up to Olga.

She walked away in defeat. All too often, the two sisters would argue, but where Olga dominated in street smarts, Elda made up for in book smarts.

Elda was slender and about an inch shorter than Olga, with long, blonde hair and piercing green eyes.

With an astute librarian look to her, she was a book-savvy smarty pants, and she knew it. On her blouse was a gold, mouse-shaped talisman brooch that had two emeralds for eyes and a diamond-studded tail.

At a nearby bookshelf she brushed her hands across the book spines with a grin—she loved those books. She held her long, bridged nose high. It was straight and met her lips at the perfect position for pouting . . . which she did a lot of, thanks to her annoying sister, Olga.

Olga, the tallest of the three, flicked her long, brown hair to the side. Her hair was decorated with a peacock hairpin talisman. The long feather made her look even taller, and it complimented her bright, blue eyes. Ironically, she was the green thumb of the family, especially good at cultivating plants and mixing herbs.

She was sassy but carried herself with the charm and

grace of a beauty queen. She kept stirring with the best poise possible.

A few fairies eagerly flew in through a propped-open, stained-glass window and hovered over Olga’s shoulders, observing her every move. Their bodies emitted bright, colored auras. They were quite intrigued with the view as they fluttered about, dodging the levitating ingredients that circled around the room in slow motion.

Several ingredients fell into the cauldron as the fairies headed up to sit on the roof of their tiny house that hung from the ceiling on a mossy vine. This was a much safer view for them. Olga reached for the floating olive oil, opened the cork and poured some of its contents into the cauldron—just enough. She closed off the bottle and sent it floating back to the table. The aroma of the cauldron rose up to her nose and she sniffed it with delight.

The Willow sisters were the best cooks in all of Salem, Massachusetts. The art of cooking and baking was a gift they all shared and adored, and thanks to their little secret, so did the entire village.

Some said that their house was bewitched and would vanish into thin air on occasion. A few witnessed other strange occurrences, such as floating objects and mystical flashes of light. Understandably, most common folk thought that was nonsense. There was no such thing as magic—or was there? That was such a popular question for a very long time.

But they were genuine witches, and magic was without a doubt real. To get away with being a witch

in a village like Salem during the colonial period, you had to be good at hiding it. Despite their mystical and sometimes scary powers, they were good-hearted girls.

The witches didn’t want to cause any trouble, and they truly believed in the Rule of Three: that any bad thing you did would come back to you three times over, especially when magic was concerned. Being cooks kept the trio out of trouble, so by day they baked, and by night they cooked. They made the most amazing breads, pastries, and pastas. With all their success in selling their baked goods, they had opened a small bakery in the village.

This daily routine helped them fit in with the non-magical locals. There were a few other gifted magic folks in Salem, but they kept to themselves most of the time. The girls were still chanting their song. Elda headed to a shelf of potion bottles. She glanced over her shoulder to Olga, who was still stirring.

Elda grabbed a bottle and hid it by her side, as she moved to the cauldron. Her singing got louder, and startled the crow, which cawed in the distance. The sisters chanted over and over, the crow cawing more in response.

Agnes was the most powerful and the most mature of the three. She was a much better singer too, and the off-key warbling of her sisters bothered and distracted her. The three sisters taught each other everything they knew, but in spite of Agnes’ best efforts, neither Elda nor Olga had improved their singing. Agnes

lifted her hands, palms towards her two companions.

Agnes sang the spell effortlessly . . .

"Incantata songbird,

La la la,

Lendum vocem tuam.

Makum cantabo Caticum,

Sing song, la ti duo."

Magic dust from Agnes’ fingers circled around them and tightened around their necks in a bow, before exploding and trickling to the floor like the end of a fire work show. Elda and Olga paused for a moment and smiled at Agnes, before resuming their chant.

They were given beautiful nightingale voices. They didn’t seem to mind having this charm put on them.

Who wouldn’t want a beautiful singing voice? They knew that Agnes cared about them deeply. She was very loving to everyone—well, everyone who didn’t double cross her or the people she loved, that is.

Elda and Olga threw a few of their own favorite ingredients into the cauldron. They weren’t in the recipe, but Agnes allowed it. They were, after all, very talented cooks, regardless of their childlike behavior.

More often than not, however, Elda and Olga didn’t agree on the recipe.

Agnes turned the page in her book and realized she was missing a needed herb from the kitchen—basil.

She headed to the back door.

Keep stirring, girls, she said over her shoulder, as she walked through the door and into the garden.

The door slammed shut behind her.

Olga was contently stirring, when suddenly, with the biggest grin on her face, Elda snuck her hidden liquid into the cauldron. It was hot sauce. Olga hated anything spicy and instantly stopped stirring.

Stop it! You’re ruining the flavor! Olga’s jaw dropped.

Elda shrugged her shoulders, laughing as she walked away to return the bottle to the shelf. Olga laughed back, mimicking her sister. Evil thoughts filled Olga’s mind, as she continued watching Elda with a cocked head.

The kitchen fell silent. Something in the air changed. Even the cauldron stopped bubbling. Olga snapped, and her wand appeared in hand. She pointed it at Elda. The crow cawed and stepped further back on his perch. The fairies darted inside their house to hide, and their glowing auras dimmed and went out.

Elda turned and instantly did the same in self-defense.

It was a wand-off.

Pozione Salire! Olga shouted.

A potion bottle rose from the shelf. Olga flicked her wand, aiming the bottle towards Elda.

Mossa! Olga shouted.

The potion bottle flew across the room towards Elda. Elda pointed her own wand towards the bottle, stopping it halfway. Elda’s eyes glowed fiercely, she forced the potion bottle closer to Olga, but Olga managed to keep it a few inches away until . . .

Esplodere pozione! Elda shouted.

POOF! The potion bottle exploded in Olga’s face. She dropped to the floor, clutching her throat in pain. She tried to yell, but the only sound that came out of her mouth was the frustrated meow of a housecat. Elda laughed at her. Olga hissed angrily. Elda stirred the pot, gloating in her victory. Olga struggled to her feet, but her posture was still hunched over, and cat-like.

She flicked her wand and sent Elda flying across the room and into the bookshelf. Several of the shelves broke and books littered the floor.

Out in the garden, Agnes was truly enjoying the fresh night air, still humming the melody of the song to herself. She ran her hand through a few soft plants she had growing in the garden, before coming to the one she needed.

There you are! She smiled at the basil plant, prior to plucking a big twig for her recipe. She twirled her fingers a bit towards the plant and it began to re-grow itself. She patted the newly grown plant like a pet.

There, there. All better now.

Suddenly, thunder rumbled in the distance and a cold wind began to blow, bringing an abrupt end to the pleasant night. Agnes glanced up at the dark clouds rolling in above her and stuck her tongue out at them.

She moved briskly back towards the house, racing the oncoming storm. She was still in a good mood and kept singing her chant. Once she opened the door and saw what her sisters were up to, she stopped chanting immediately and froze in disbelief at the mess they

had made in just a matter of minutes. Agnes, sat her herb down on the table, taking a deep breath.

Enough! Reversum Unduos! Agnes shouted as lightning clashed in sync along with her. Moments later, the intense rumble of thunder shook the house.

Agnes lifted her hand and clenched it into a fist. Elda and Olga froze in their tracks, unable to move or