Mummy Fairy and Me/Fairy Mom and Me
I am delighted to introduce my first ever book for young children. It’s a project which began at my own children’s bedtimes, as I invented the characters of Ella and her Fairy mother for them. I heard them laugh, enjoyed each story with them, and soon decided to bring my creation to a wider audience.
The world of Ella and her magical mother is, in many ways, real. Ella goes to school and plays with her friends. Her mother is like any other… except when she turns into a fairy! My own children adored the fact that her phone turns into a magical Computawand. I could see them eyeing up my phone. Might I too secretly be a fairy?
Both Ella and her Fairy mother learn a lot from their madcap adventures and I hope my readers will absorb these lessons too. But most of all I hope that anyone who reads these stories will smile, laugh, enjoy… and let a little magical sparkle into their life!
P.S. Listen to me reading an extract from the audiobook here!
Ella’s family have a big secret . . . her mother is a fairy! She can do amazing spells with her magical Computawand to make delicious cupcakes, create the perfect birthday party and cause chaos at the supermarket. But sometimes the spells go a bit wrong and that’s when Ella comes to the rescue!
Prepare for magic and mayhem in this sweet and funny new series for young readers.
How not to cure Fairy Flu with a bouncing bed
One morning I went into Mummy’s bedroom and stopped in shock. She had red spots all over her face and was blowing her nose.
‘Mummy,’ I gasped, ‘I think you’re ill!’
‘I know,’ said Mummy in a croaky voice. ‘I need some medicine.’
She tried all the different medicines in the cupboard, but nothing worked. At last Daddy called the doctor.
The doctor came and looked at Mummy’s spots. He took her temperature and peered in to her ears.
‘You have a very unusual kind of flu,’ he said. ‘You must rest and then you will get better.’
‘Rest?’ said Mummy.
‘Yes,’ said the doctor. ‘Rest.’
Mummy doesn’t like rest. She likes working hard and having fun and being busy. As soon as the doctor had gone she got out of bed. Looking very wobbly, she stamped her feet three times, clapped her hands, wiggled her bottom and said, ‘Marshmallow’ . . . and POOF! she was Mummy Fairy. But her wings were all dull and droopy, and her crown didn’t shimmer.
‘I am going to cure myself with magic,’ she told Daddy and me.
‘I think that’s a bad idea,’ said Daddy, looking alarmed. But Mummy Fairy pointed the Computawand at herself and pressed a code – bleep-bleep-bloop.
We all waited. But Mummy Fairy’s spots didn’t go away and her nose was still runny. Her wings drooped even further.
‘Do you feel any better?’ asked Daddy. ‘No,’ said Mummy. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m going to look at the Fairy Doctor App.’
She started scrolling down her screen, searching for a spell. Just then, Granny came in.
‘Oh dear, you have Fairy Flu,’ she said as soon as she saw Mummy Fairy. ‘I’m afraid there is no spell for Fairy Flu. If you try to cure it with magic, you’ll make it worse. You must drink lemon squash and rest. And you must definitely not try any more magic.’
‘You probably need a good rest,’ said Daddy.
‘I don’t want a good rest,’ said Mummy Fairy. ‘I want to get better.’ She looked very, very cross. ‘Toffee apple,’ she said, and went back to bed.
After lunch I went to see how Mummy was feeling. She was sitting up in bed all alone in her nightie, drinking lemon squash and reading her Spell Book.
Mummy hardly ever gets out her Spell Book. It is very old and the writing is very tiny and the pages are very thin. It was written hundreds of years ago by the Old, Old Fairies. Nowadays most fairies have Computawands to tell them their spells instead. But, even so, every fairy has a Spell Book. I can’t wait until I’m old enough to have one.
‘Why are you reading your Spell Book?’ I asked. ‘Granny said you mustn’t do any magic.’
But Mummy took no notice. ‘Here we are,’ she said. ‘I knew I’d find something! A spell to make you feel cooler. That’s exactly what I need.’ She got out of bed, stamped her feet three times, clapped her hands, wiggled her bottom and said, ‘Marshmallow’ . . . and POOF! she was a fairy.
Then she pointed her Computawand at herself, pressed a code – bleep-bleep- bloop – and said, ‘Cooleridoo!’
At once, snow started falling on her head.
‘Oops,’ said Mummy Fairy. ‘I don’t know how that happened. Stoperidoo!’
She pointed the Computawand at herself, but the snow didn’t stop.
‘Mummy Fairy!’ I said. ‘You’ll freeze! And your head will turn into a snowball! Shall I call Aunty Jo? Maybe she can cure you.’
‘No!’ said Mummy Fairy, looking a bit cross. ‘I don’t need Aunty Jo. I can do this myself.’
Mummy Fairy put on a woolly hat and flipped through the book. ‘Let me try something else,’ she said. ‘Here we are – a spell for strength. Strongeridoo!’
At once, Mummy Fairy’s arms changed. They got big and muscly like a champion weightlifter’s.
‘Oops,’ said Mummy Fairy. ‘I don’t know how that happened. I wonder how strong I am.’
She reached over and took hold of me with one hand, then lifted me up over her head.
‘Help!’ I cried.
‘I’m really super strong,’ said Mummy. ‘Isn’t that cool?’
I felt very strange, balanced on Mummy’s hand, looking down at her head.
‘Mummy Fairy,’ I gasped, ‘I think you should stop doing magic.’
‘But I’m sure I can cure myself,’ she said, putting me down again. ‘I just need to find the right spell. Look, here’s a cure for spots. Spotseridoo!’ She pressed a code on her Computawand – bleep-bleep-bloop – and all her spots disappeared.
‘There!’ said Mummy Fairy. ‘You see? It worked. I knew it would.’
A moment later, the spots came back, but now they were bright green. They got bigger and bigger, till her whole face was green.
‘Oh dear,’ said Mummy Fairy. ‘It didn’t work after all.’
Now Mummy Fairy had muscly arms, a green face and snow falling on her head. I didn’t think she looked at all better. I sat down on the bed and said, ‘Mummy Fairy, why don’t you just rest like Granny said?’
But Mummy Fairy wasn’t listening. ‘Here we are.’ She turned to another page in the Spell Book. ‘A spell for feeling bouncy. That will make me stop feeling ill.’ Mummy Fairy pointed the Computawand at herself, pressed a code – bleep-bleep-bloop – and said, ‘Bounceridoo!’
At once, the bed gave a little bounce. I looked at Mummy Fairy, and Mummy Fairy looked at me. The bed bounced again.
‘Oops,’ said Mummy Fairy. ‘That’s not what I meant by “bouncy”.’