Grandma's NOT for Bedtime Stories

By J M Robinson

"Grandma's NOT for Bedtime Stories" is a fun collection of short stories that readers of fantasy will love. Get ready to embark on a fantastical adventure filled with interesting characters, adventurous quests, and mystical creatures. These stories are at times creepy and spooky, but also fun and clever. Get ready to dive headfirst into J M Robinson's fantasy world!

Each story takes you on a unique adventure that will certainly be remembered. Although unique, each takes readers on a journey into a prolific fantasy realm filled with daring ventures.

Roof of the World: Two students follow a map hidden in the archives of their university. Dreams of treasure and fame lead them to discover a cave high in the Himalayas that hides an ancient secret.

Blue Egg: A quest taken by children to find the elusive Blue Egg that will grant wishes for one year.

Hunted: It happens in the dark of night throughout gardens in a tiny hamlet. Gnomes become animated and live secret lives but at dawn they revert to garden ornaments. They are hunted by human collectors to be displayed as trophy's.

The Boy Under the Willow Tree: A boy, bullied by his sister, finds himself in the underground world of demons and tries to escape.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098397999

Book preview

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With thanks to my husband and family as well as my extended family, especially my daughter who helped me immensely. Thanks to my granddaughter and her husband and my friend Marge. Without their encouragement and help this collection of stories would not have been possible.

Grandma’s NOT for Bedtime Stories

© 2021 J M Robinson

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-09839-798-2

eBook ISBN: 978-1-09839-799-9

Table of Contents

THE ROOF OF THE WORLD

HUNTED

THE BOY UNDER THE WILLOW TREE

THE BLUE EGG

The Roof Of

The World

By J M Robinson

THE ROOF OF THE WORLD

High in the North Himalayan Region, cloaked in shifting fog and swirling mists, the black granite mountain range of the Four Deities dominates the landscape. In a dark cave atop the sacred mountain sits the remains of a once powerful monk who was revered for his ability to see into the future. For centuries, his mummified body sightlessly stared at the bleak and barren valley far below. Eons of drifted snow and accumulated ice have all but covered the opening to the monk’s shrine.

In the perpetual shadow at the foot of the mountain lie the tumbled ruins of an ancient monastery. The once mighty walls of the structure, chiseled from the living rock by the monks, are now crumbled. Scattered blocks of granite lay under a blanket of deep snow. Only the largest are visible. Frigid wind whistled and moaned as it blew through long abandoned hallways and cells where monks once worked and slept. A feeling of secrecy and mystery permeated the once holy site.

In an empty classroom at the university two graduate students studied an ancient map that had lain hidden for years in the archives of the institute. It was only by accident that the two archeology students had found it. Crumbled and dust covered, it laid on a back shelf behind stacked books. It looked as if it had not been touched in years. Carefully, the pair unfolded and stretched the parchment map on a worktable to study.

What do you think it is? John asked as he leaned closer to the faded map. John was from the Mid-west and, the taller of the two. He was athletic, blond, and blue-eyed. He was the more skeptical of the two, and not at all prone to taking chances.

It’s definitely a map of an expansive mountain range. Staring at his friend, Angus asked John if he recognized the name Tubo written on the top of the map.

John shook his head and shrugged.

I know where we can find out, Angus said as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He Googled the word Tubo. It’s the medieval Chinese name for Tibet. Angus was muscular with black hair and twinkling green eyes. Looking at him, you could tell he was the one who was most likely to get in trouble. His gaze was penetrating, challenging, and soul searching. The swagger of his walk, was arrogant and aggressive.

Isn’t that where the abominable snowman lives, John joked.

Very funny. Hey look, there’s a trail marked here. It’s very faint, but it seems to lead to the top of this mountain, Angus said as he traced the trail with his index finger. What do you think was so important that someone would draw a map to this particular mountain?

Are you kidding me! According to all the newspaper articles I’ve read, no one has ever survived the climb to the top of that mountain. Besides the locals believe it’s haunted. Where would you even find a guide to take us up there? John questioned as he pointed to the map with his finger.

"Calm down. I thought you wanted to become a famous archeologist. A real Indiana Jones type. Just think of it, we would be the first