5/8 2018
Here's a preview of Attila the Hummer! Check it out, then head to Amazon or Barnes and Noble to purchase the full story!
Chapter 1
It was the first day of Rowdy Rufus’s Flight School, and everyone of good breeding was there to enroll. The air was buzzing with excitement and I could not focus. There were blurry impressions of winged bodies everywhere, zipping back and forth doing loop-de-loops, and murmured oohs and aahs from the crowds below.
“I want to do that!” I shouted, pointing my wing up to the sky where a stunt male was spinning in circles. “Do you think I will get that good, Dad?”
“Only if we get you enrolled, Beaky,” my dad laughed good-naturedly. “Come on, I’ll carry you.”
I crawled onto my dad’s back, wedged my feet just under his wings, and with a flash we were zooming up to the school. Too close! Too fast! My mind screamed as the building loomed closer. I cringed, squeezing low to dad’s back.
“Watch your bill, Beaky!” Dad called over his shoulder. “You are stabbing me!”
Oh! I jerked away from Dad’s head and tumbled to the ground with a thump! My eyes rolled around in my head and I could not make them stop.
“Not exactly the most graceful entrance, son. No matter, are you okay?” Dad hovered slightly before landing beside me.
When my eyes stopped rolling, all I saw were the sharp bills of the strangers around me. Some laughed, some were concerned, and some turned away embarrassed for me or my father.
“Welcome to Rowdy Rufus’s Flight School!” called a cheerful male at the door. “You are just in time.” He pointed a rusty colored wing to the right. “They are getting ready for introductions. Better find your seat!”
I felt a lump grow in my throat. “Dad, I don’t think I can do this,” I whispered, pulling my Dad’s wing.
“Son, you will be fine. Just do your best and be yourself,” Dad patted my head. “I will see you in a few weeks.” With a flutter of wings he was gone.
I hurried into the large room. There were at lease fifty other hummers like me already waiting. All the seats were full. Except one, right in the middle of the first row.
“Come on down! Don’t be shy,” said a female up front, flitting around the edge of the stage. Her voice, amplified by a microphone on her head, echoed through the room. My feathers bristled with embarrassment as I walked to my seat, ignoring the snickers of laughter all around me. “You have each been assigned to your Nesting Groups. Your groups have eight students and one leader. When I call your name, please come to the stage.” My head throbbed with blood rushing in my ears. It was so loud that I almost missed hearing my name. “Beaky Broadbill, Group 8.” I stumbled my way up to the others in my group.
“I wonder who our teacher will be,” said the male beside me. “I hope we get someone good.”
“Now that everyone is in your groups, please take a few minutes to get to know one another,” the female on the stage directed.
“I am Calliope. That is my mom on stage. She is the best, and I SO hope she is our leader!” an enthusiastic female announced, hovering as she spoke. She was a carbon copy of her mother: smooth white feathers with a faint tinge of pink at her throat and dusty olive wings.
“I am Ruby,” a fiery-throated girl went next, zipping over to stand with Calliope. Soon we had broken into three major groups: four girls,
two boys, and a boy and girl that stood silently watching us. They appeared to be foreigners.
“I do not think they speak the same language as us,” whispered the boy beside me. “I’m Spatz.” Spatz was small like me, but with a brilliant blue throat and the longest, strangest tail I had ever seen. It was like streamers or ribbons that fanned out to have flat paddles on each end. I tried not to stare.
“Beaky Broadbill,” I rasped, looking at the girls to keep from being rude to Spatz. The two girls I did not recognize caught me looking their direction and spoke at the same time with a giggle.
“Amethyst.”
“Inca.”
I had no idea which one was which. We all turned to the other two members of our group. I stepped up to the boy, wing pointing to my chest. “I am Beaky.”
The boy bowed low. “Jacobin Violetear.” His voice had a slight accent, but I suspected that he spoke our language rather well. “My sister, Stellalula Violetear. We are from the warm lands of the south.”
“Welcome.” Calliope stepped up to Stellalula, and suddenly we were all talking at once, learning how to be friends. I did not feel quite so afraid now that I knew some of their names.
“So, Calliope, you must know all of the instructors since your mom works here…” Ruby began.
“Commanders. That is what they are called. And yes, I do.” Calliope preened her feathers importantly.
“Well, tell us about them!” Spatz urged. “Give us the dirt.”
“Hmm,” Calliope paused for dramatic effect. “Most of them are very nice, and helpful. There are four that teach flight and fighting skills and the other four teach ground skills. Of them all, there are only two to watch out for: Hermit Thorntail and Attila the Hummer. Oh, I hope we don’t get stuck with either of those as our leader! Especially not Attila! He is grouchy and horrible!”
“Calliope! That was extremely rude! I have taught you better than that,” her mother shouted into the microphone. Having been subjected to that embarrassment when I entered the place, I instantly felt sorry for Calliope. Her mother took out a pen and made some adjustments to a chart on the stage.
“Everyone, it is time to introduce you to your group leaders. Group one, you will be led by Commander Rowdy Rufus, the foraging instructor.” Cheers rang out from them as Rowdy Rufus flipped mid-air before landing amidst his team.
“Group two, you will be assigned to Commander Hermit Thorntail, the groundskeeper and herbologist.” No one cheered as the green creature appeared beside them. On his head were reddish tufts of hair that turned severely upward, giving him an angry countenance. His short red beak seemed to show constant signs of disapproval about everything he saw.
“Group three goes to Commander Violet Sabrewing, the defensive flight strategist.” Obviously named for her coloring, she flew into her group like a violet tornado, ruffling feathers as she passed. Her group laughed at her antics and I liked her immediately.
“Group four is Commander Anna Allen’s. She is the etiquette instructor.” Anna walked primly to her group, greeting each one with a slight nod.
“I’d hate to have her as a leader!” Spatz nudged my wing. “She’d expect me to toe the mark every moment of every day.” He grimaced at the thought.
“Group five is mine, and I am Commander Topaz Quick, the migratory endurance trainer.” She saluted her group with a grin but her
eyes never left Calliope. It was a warning to her daughter. Calliope sniffed once, but did not protest. However, I had a feeling they would argue after it was all said and done.
“Group six belongs with Commander Xantus Firethroat, the offensive flight strategist.” Everyone gasped as a streak of black lightning dove from the ceiling to the floor. Pulling up at the last possible moment, Xantus landed lightly on his feet in front of his wide-eyed team. Every female in the room seemed to swoon as he strutted forward, his throat feathers shifting from green to red to blue jewel tones. As he passed by Violet Sabrewing, I noticed she rolled her eyes. Then, when attention was turning back to Commander Rufus, she stuck out her clawed foot in front of Xantus. Stumbling, he tumbled into a forward roll with a laugh, then blew Violet a kiss. Violet scowled and turned away.
“Only two more,” Calliope whispered. “Please not Attila! Mom wouldn’t do that!” I was not so easily convinced.
“Group seven, you are with Commander Magnus Swordbill, the sport fighting instructor.”
Calliope groaned softly, a wing covering her eyes. Spatz whispered, “That leaves only…”
“Attila the Hummer, you have group eight. Attila is the survivalist.” Attila sauntered up to our group with a wicked glare in his eyes. A thick jacket wrapped his wiry frame with the words “Hum #1” written in white lettering on his back.
“Not much to work with,” Attila mumbled, his deep, gravelly voice scratching our ears. He circled us as though we were juicy flowers he had discovered while flying through a barren desert. He eyed Spatz’s tail with a grin. “Paddlefeet?” Attila barked a laugh. He stepped up beside me. “Pipsqueak?” He shook his head. On and on Attila went, each one of us receiving an insult. “Four ears,” he snorted at Stellalula and Jacobin, tickling the tufts of lavender hued hair that stood out like ears on the sides of their heads.
Commander Quick’s voice boomed through the room, interrupting Attila’s name calling. “Your leaders will take you to your dormitories. We will reconvene here for supper, explain the schedules and rules, and then the real work begins tomorrow.”
“Try to keep up,” Attila called over his shoulder as he hurried off, walking toward the nearest exit. “And feet on the ground.”
“I thought we were here to fly,” Ruby complained.
Attila the Hummer stopped, returned to the group, towering over Ruby. “You really want to complain to me, Short Beak?” Ruby gulped and shook her head. “Thought so. Listen up! You are going to hear many rules from me, and I expect you to follow them to the letter. Here’s the first two. Number one: never question or disobey me. My word is your law. Number two: You walk everywhere you go with me. I don’t care if your other Commanders encourage flight. I am not them. With me, you walk. Understood?”
Not a one of us dared to speak.
“Good. Now get moving!” Attila slapped open the door, holding it with one clawed foot. We filed out in a single line, too afraid to look around at our surroundings as we headed to the dormitory.
Find out what happens next by ordering Attila the Hummer at Amazon or Barnes & Noble!
Here's a preview of Attila the Hummer! Check it out, then head to Amazon or Barnes and Noble to purchase the full story!
Chapter 1
It was the first day of Rowdy Rufus’s Flight School, and everyone of good breeding was there to enroll. The air was buzzing with excitement and I could not focus. There were blurry impressions of winged bodies everywhere, zipping back and forth doing loop-de-loops, and murmured oohs and aahs from the crowds below.
“I want to do that!” I shouted, pointing my wing up to the sky where a stunt male was spinning in circles. “Do you think I will get that good, Dad?”
“Only if we get you enrolled, Beaky,” my dad laughed good-naturedly. “Come on, I’ll carry you.”
I crawled onto my dad’s back, wedged my feet just under his wings, and with a flash we were zooming up to the school. Too close! Too fast! My mind screamed as the building loomed closer. I cringed, squeezing low to dad’s back.
“Watch your bill, Beaky!” Dad called over his shoulder. “You are stabbing me!”
Oh! I jerked away from Dad’s head and tumbled to the ground with a thump! My eyes rolled around in my head and I could not make them stop.
“Not exactly the most graceful entrance, son. No matter, are you okay?” Dad hovered slightly before landing beside me.
When my eyes stopped rolling, all I saw were the sharp bills of the strangers around me. Some laughed, some were concerned, and some turned away embarrassed for me or my father.
“Welcome to Rowdy Rufus’s Flight School!” called a cheerful male at the door. “You are just in time.” He pointed a rusty colored wing to the right. “They are getting ready for introductions. Better find your seat!”
I felt a lump grow in my throat. “Dad, I don’t think I can do this,” I whispered, pulling my Dad’s wing.
“Son, you will be fine. Just do your best and be yourself,” Dad patted my head. “I will see you in a few weeks.” With a flutter of wings he was gone.
I hurried into the large room. There were at lease fifty other hummers like me already waiting. All the seats were full. Except one, right in the middle of the first row.
“Come on down! Don’t be shy,” said a female up front, flitting around the edge of the stage. Her voice, amplified by a microphone on her head, echoed through the room. My feathers bristled with embarrassment as I walked to my seat, ignoring the snickers of laughter all around me. “You have each been assigned to your Nesting Groups. Your groups have eight students and one leader. When I call your name, please come to the stage.” My head throbbed with blood rushing in my ears. It was so loud that I almost missed hearing my name. “Beaky Broadbill, Group 8.” I stumbled my way up to the others in my group.
“I wonder who our teacher will be,” said the male beside me. “I hope we get someone good.”
“Now that everyone is in your groups, please take a few minutes to get to know one another,” the female on the stage directed.
“I am Calliope. That is my mom on stage. She is the best, and I SO hope she is our leader!” an enthusiastic female announced, hovering as she spoke. She was a carbon copy of her mother: smooth white feathers with a faint tinge of pink at her throat and dusty olive wings.
“I am Ruby,” a fiery-throated girl went next, zipping over to stand with Calliope. Soon we had broken into three major groups: four girls,
two boys, and a boy and girl that stood silently watching us. They appeared to be foreigners.
“I do not think they speak the same language as us,” whispered the boy beside me. “I’m Spatz.” Spatz was small like me, but with a brilliant blue throat and the longest, strangest tail I had ever seen. It was like streamers or ribbons that fanned out to have flat paddles on each end. I tried not to stare.
“Beaky Broadbill,” I rasped, looking at the girls to keep from being rude to Spatz. The two girls I did not recognize caught me looking their direction and spoke at the same time with a giggle.
“Amethyst.”
“Inca.”
I had no idea which one was which. We all turned to the other two members of our group. I stepped up to the boy, wing pointing to my chest. “I am Beaky.”
The boy bowed low. “Jacobin Violetear.” His voice had a slight accent, but I suspected that he spoke our language rather well. “My sister, Stellalula Violetear. We are from the warm lands of the south.”
“Welcome.” Calliope stepped up to Stellalula, and suddenly we were all talking at once, learning how to be friends. I did not feel quite so afraid now that I knew some of their names.
“So, Calliope, you must know all of the instructors since your mom works here…” Ruby began.
“Commanders. That is what they are called. And yes, I do.” Calliope preened her feathers importantly.
“Well, tell us about them!” Spatz urged. “Give us the dirt.”
“Hmm,” Calliope paused for dramatic effect. “Most of them are very nice, and helpful. There are four that teach flight and fighting skills and the other four teach ground skills. Of them all, there are only two to watch out for: Hermit Thorntail and Attila the Hummer. Oh, I hope we don’t get stuck with either of those as our leader! Especially not Attila! He is grouchy and horrible!”
“Calliope! That was extremely rude! I have taught you better than that,” her mother shouted into the microphone. Having been subjected to that embarrassment when I entered the place, I instantly felt sorry for Calliope. Her mother took out a pen and made some adjustments to a chart on the stage.
“Everyone, it is time to introduce you to your group leaders. Group one, you will be led by Commander Rowdy Rufus, the foraging instructor.” Cheers rang out from them as Rowdy Rufus flipped mid-air before landing amidst his team.
“Group two, you will be assigned to Commander Hermit Thorntail, the groundskeeper and herbologist.” No one cheered as the green creature appeared beside them. On his head were reddish tufts of hair that turned severely upward, giving him an angry countenance. His short red beak seemed to show constant signs of disapproval about everything he saw.
“Group three goes to Commander Violet Sabrewing, the defensive flight strategist.” Obviously named for her coloring, she flew into her group like a violet tornado, ruffling feathers as she passed. Her group laughed at her antics and I liked her immediately.
“Group four is Commander Anna Allen’s. She is the etiquette instructor.” Anna walked primly to her group, greeting each one with a slight nod.
“I’d hate to have her as a leader!” Spatz nudged my wing. “She’d expect me to toe the mark every moment of every day.” He grimaced at the thought.
“Group five is mine, and I am Commander Topaz Quick, the migratory endurance trainer.” She saluted her group with a grin but her
eyes never left Calliope. It was a warning to her daughter. Calliope sniffed once, but did not protest. However, I had a feeling they would argue after it was all said and done.
“Group six belongs with Commander Xantus Firethroat, the offensive flight strategist.” Everyone gasped as a streak of black lightning dove from the ceiling to the floor. Pulling up at the last possible moment, Xantus landed lightly on his feet in front of his wide-eyed team. Every female in the room seemed to swoon as he strutted forward, his throat feathers shifting from green to red to blue jewel tones. As he passed by Violet Sabrewing, I noticed she rolled her eyes. Then, when attention was turning back to Commander Rufus, she stuck out her clawed foot in front of Xantus. Stumbling, he tumbled into a forward roll with a laugh, then blew Violet a kiss. Violet scowled and turned away.
“Only two more,” Calliope whispered. “Please not Attila! Mom wouldn’t do that!” I was not so easily convinced.
“Group seven, you are with Commander Magnus Swordbill, the sport fighting instructor.”
Calliope groaned softly, a wing covering her eyes. Spatz whispered, “That leaves only…”
“Attila the Hummer, you have group eight. Attila is the survivalist.” Attila sauntered up to our group with a wicked glare in his eyes. A thick jacket wrapped his wiry frame with the words “Hum #1” written in white lettering on his back.
“Not much to work with,” Attila mumbled, his deep, gravelly voice scratching our ears. He circled us as though we were juicy flowers he had discovered while flying through a barren desert. He eyed Spatz’s tail with a grin. “Paddlefeet?” Attila barked a laugh. He stepped up beside me. “Pipsqueak?” He shook his head. On and on Attila went, each one of us receiving an insult. “Four ears,” he snorted at Stellalula and Jacobin, tickling the tufts of lavender hued hair that stood out like ears on the sides of their heads.
Commander Quick’s voice boomed through the room, interrupting Attila’s name calling. “Your leaders will take you to your dormitories. We will reconvene here for supper, explain the schedules and rules, and then the real work begins tomorrow.”
“Try to keep up,” Attila called over his shoulder as he hurried off, walking toward the nearest exit. “And feet on the ground.”
“I thought we were here to fly,” Ruby complained.
Attila the Hummer stopped, returned to the group, towering over Ruby. “You really want to complain to me, Short Beak?” Ruby gulped and shook her head. “Thought so. Listen up! You are going to hear many rules from me, and I expect you to follow them to the letter. Here’s the first two. Number one: never question or disobey me. My word is your law. Number two: You walk everywhere you go with me. I don’t care if your other Commanders encourage flight. I am not them. With me, you walk. Understood?”
Not a one of us dared to speak.
“Good. Now get moving!” Attila slapped open the door, holding it with one clawed foot. We filed out in a single line, too afraid to look around at our surroundings as we headed to the dormitory.
Find out what happens next by ordering Attila the Hummer at Amazon or Barnes & Noble!
4/2/2018
Today is "Read a Children's Book" day! What better day to check out Attila the Hummer?! Click on the links below to find this book on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Mascot Books!!
Today is "Read a Children's Book" day! What better day to check out Attila the Hummer?! Click on the links below to find this book on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Mascot Books!!
3/16/18
Looking for a story that will open up conversations about teamwork, acceptance, kindness, and compassion? Attila the Hummer is the one for you! Filled with situations that mirror life in grade school, you'll have plenty to discuss with your young reader.
Click one of the red buttons below to learn more!
Looking for a story that will open up conversations about teamwork, acceptance, kindness, and compassion? Attila the Hummer is the one for you! Filled with situations that mirror life in grade school, you'll have plenty to discuss with your young reader.
Click one of the red buttons below to learn more!
"A deep worry settled into my claws. Attila the Hummer is the meanest, nastiest one of the bunch, and now he's my group leader! Oh, what's a bird to do?" It looks like Beaky Broadbill’s time at Rowdy Rufus’s Flight School won’t be as easy as he hoped. He’s had the misfortune of being placed in the group belonging to Attila the Hummer, the toughest hummingbird commander at the school. Will Beaky be able to survive his torturous training and maybe find out what his mean group leader doesn’t want them to know?
Buy it today by clicking one of the links above
Buy it today by clicking one of the links above