The Most Magical Beginning: A Sophie Mae Adventure, #1

By Mason Bell

Sometimes magic is all that can save you.

Since leaving the university chemistry department, George the Great Cain had found a home in Spenwaller's Traveling Circus. The lively crowds ranging from the very old to the newest of babies highlighted every moment of his life for the last decade. But times were changing, and the life of a traveling showman wore thin. George needed more out of life than the long hours working for peanuts.

 

Ernest Wade, only a few years older than George and orphaned at a young age, the circus offered family and shelter, objects that grew more unsteady as the economic depression raged onward. Discontent followed the man throughout his life, and even the bright lights of the circus couldn't heal his spirit.

 

In the town of Drycrop, Sophie Mae Bastrop finds herself in the throes of change. The climate grows hotter and drier by the day, and her usual way of life starts to fade. When the Spenwaller Circus rolls into town, a night of magic and intrigue may be just what she needs.

 

You'll love this classic Middle-Grade Historical Fantasy for its fast pace and fun characters. Book one in the Sophie Mae Adventures chapter books.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mason Bell
• Release date: Dec 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798986606644

Mason Bell

Mason Bell spent many of her teenage years working under the scorching sun in a popular theme park. Serving in positions from ride operation to sweeping trash to managing work crews, she learned the park's secrets and gained an appreciation for the effort that went into creating the illusion.Mason Bell lives in South Texas with her husband and two cats, Frodo and Fat Hobbit.

Book preview

Chapter 1

George Cain planted his feet on the protective floor mat. Steadying his breath, he aligned the opening of one vial with another sitting on the desk. Precision was the key to controlling the outcome of the experiment.

The clicking of several dress shoes in the long, bare hallway of the university’s science building broke his concentration. Standing as still as a statue, he listened to the speed and force of the steps, hoping the approaching official was only the janitor. That’s not Randy.

Grabbing vials and notepads, he curled his torso tight and slipped into the coat closet, the corner of his notebook stabbing his gut. His pinky finger pulled the door handle close to the frame. A small crack gave him a bit of light in the musty space.

I know that guy is here, the dean said. I saw him from my office window. Check all the rooms on this floor.

Lingering along the black tables of the lab, the dean turned the knobs of microscopes and flicked the glass of drying beakers. He walked to the wall of locked bookcases that held varying sizes of bottled chemicals.

Sir, the security guard said, entering the lab. We don’t see him anywhere. He must have left.

The dean tapped his finger on the teacher’s desk at the front of the room. That guy is done here. If you see him anywhere on campus, show him the way out.

Trailing behind the men, he turned to switch off the light, stealing a long glance over the room. A slight growl, like that of a small dog, snarled from his throat. No one takes advantage of my generosity, not even men of knowledge.

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Several minutes passed as George listened for the footsteps and angry voices of the men who didn’t return. He clenched his jaw and pushed his elbow against the door, shoving the closed vial into his jacket pocket.

He raced for the stairwell, nearly tripping as he skipped a few steps. Bursting from the windowless door at the back of the science hall, he jogged across the campus grass to the sidewalk.

The bus stop seemed a reasonable distance from the building, and he sat on the bench to catch his breath. A simmering noise came from inside his jacket, and he observed the liquid within the vial swirling closer to the lid.

Watch out! a woman yelled from the end of the street as her giant golden retriever galloped toward the bus stop. George winced at the dog’s wet tongue that slurped up the side of his cheek. Pushing the dog off, the vial slipped from his fingers as he fled to a nearby oak tree with low-hanging branches.

After a fair bit of wrangling and a bag of dog snacks, the woman and her pet tromped further along the road. George straightened his clothes as he moved back toward his belongings. From the corner of his eye, he saw the bench lift off the ground. The notebooks and papers cradled against his chest cascaded to the cement. His trembling hand reached for a wooden slat. The bench moved under his touch. He gave it a push,