about the book:
THE PRINCE looks like he’s from another time entirely, or maybe he’s just too good at his job at Ye Old Renaissance Faire . . .
THE ACTRESS is lighting up Hollywood Boulevard with her spellbinding and strikingly convincing portrayal of a famous fairy. Her name may be big, but her secrets barely fit in one world . . .
Fifteen-year-old Crescenzo never would have believed his father’s carvings were anything more than “stupid toys.” All he knows is a boring life in an ordinary Virginia suburb, from which his mother and his best friend have been missing for years. When his father disappears next, all Crescenzo has left is his goofy neighbor, Pietro, who believes he’s really Peter Pan and that Crescenzo is the son of Pinocchio. What’s more: Pietro insists that they can find their loved ones by looking to the strange collection of wooden figurines Crescenzo’s father left behind.
With Pietro’s help, Crescenzo sets off on an adventure to unite the real life counterparts to his figurines. It’s enough of a shock that they’re actually real, but the night he meets the Girl in the Red Hood, dark truths burst from the past. Suddenly, Crescenzo is tangled in a nightmare where magic mirrors and evil queens rule, and where everyone he loves is running out of time.
Liam cut right to the chase. “Are you Mr. Bellamy?”
The man’s face fell into a tight frown, but Crescenzo assumed by the figurine that the frown was just his natural expression. “I am he. The Lord of the Diner.”
“Violet sent us,” Crescenzo said.
“Mm. You mean Heather, yes?”
“Sure?” Crescenzo was still trying to figure out the rule on what he should be calling the Old World people. He supposed Pietro would forever be Pietro to him and he understood why he needed the new name, but he didn’t feel that somebody like Violet, who wasn’t a part of any story Crescenzo had heard before, needed an alias.
Mr. Bellamy plopped two brunch menus in front of Liam and Crescenzo and poured them each a cup of coffee, to Crescenzo’s dismay. Then the old man leaned over the counter and furrowed his eyebrows. In a tense whisper, he said, “Your presence brings ruin to my happy New World life! Where you go, trouble will surely follow. Now, what can I serve you this morning?”
about the author:
When Jacob Devlin was four years old, he would lounge around in Batman pajamas and make semi-autobiographical picture books about an adventurous python named Jake the Snake. Eventually, he traded his favorite blue crayon for a black pen, and he never put it down. When not reading or writing, Jacob loves practicing his Italian, watching stand-up comedy, going deaf at rock concerts, and geeking out at comic book conventions. He does most of these things in southern Arizona.
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