Jingle Jangle Book Novels & Stories

“I, for one, am quite bored of Trundling Hoop and Roll, after playing it for so many years.” “Uh…” Martha’s gaze switched between Emiline and Henry a few times before she shrugged. “I think that is a splendid idea, Mr. Crampton.” Relief washed over Gabe, knowing that his uncle and aunt were not going to cause a scene—although Rebecca just might. Gabe handed a stick and hoop to Emiline and gave her an encouraging nod. A shaky smile appeared on her lovely face as she took the items. “Actually, the way I have changed this game, is that we will need a wooden ball as well. If you do not have one, I’m certain my ball of yarn will work.”

Until we meet again, sweet girl, I hope you're dancing with the angles. END OF BOOK ONE

I pick it up and begin thumbing through it. "Hey, babe, what do you think of this?" I show the front to Tiffany as she rounds the corner. "What is it?" "It's called Peanut's Wish." I flip through some of the pages. "It looks it's about a baby who can't wait to be born, or… I don't know. It sounds weird when I say that. It looks cute though."

“Have you found anything?” “No.” Trisha replied. “Just this book that appears to be big and old,” Dalett said. “Did you just say old?” Jade inquired. Dalett nodded, and Jade rushed over to her. “Give me that book.” Dalett bent down, lifted the book, and set it on the table. The dust was so thick that the girls started coughing. Jade covered her nose with one arm and dusted the book with the other. “Let’s see what we can come up with inside there.” Jade flipped open the cover, which was rather heavy. She was surprised when she could not find anything. As she began flipping through the papers one by one, her gaze met the rest of them.

Frowning, Katie interrupted a moment later as Glee clacked away at the keyboard. “There’s something you’re supposed to read.” “Hmm? Read?” “In the bookcase, Granna.” Katie crossed the room and removed something from the shelf, came back and set it on the corner of Glee’s desk hutch. It was a small, thin volume of some sort, with a worn brown cover and gold lettering along the spine. “Supposed to read it,” said Katie again, unsure of herself. Or rather, unsure how to proceed. “Chapter seven,” she went on furtively, “uh, page twenty-nine. Paragraph four . . . and five.” The girl fell silent, her pearly grays changing over to sea-green. “And six.”

"What happened? Didn't you say the bell wouldn't ring?" Strangely, I felt calm. I finally got an explanation for what had been bugging me all this time. It was like finding the solution I'd been searching for, right there in front of me. Suddenly, I wasn't afraid anymore. "I packed it with cotton, so it shouldn't make a sound. I even sealed it with clay." Dad looked rattled, his eyes darting away when they met mine. Why did he look like he had a guilty conscience? Suddenly, a dull thud echoed. The lid of the jar began to shake violently. Something was ramming it from the inside. The ropes were starting to unravel.

Jingle bell was meowing loudly because the little baby girl of Nicholas has trapped her under her blanket because she wanted to play with her. Jingle bell wanted to be free because she was getting suffocated; the baby girl was almost sitting above her. Nicholas was in the kitchen making some baby food for her.

I knew I might get sick anytime soon but I really want to enjoy the moment to the fullest. “Jingle bells, jingle bells..” Brian groaned. “Oh no.” “Jingle all the waaay..” He caught up, walking beside me now, shaking his head. “You’re off-key.” “That’s part of the charm.” “Is it?” “Yes.” I bumped into him playfully. He bumped back. “Oh what fun it is to..” He joined in suddenly, loudly and dramatically. “ RIDE IN A ONE-HORSE OPEN SLEIGH..”

Mom had told me and Sara fragments of these stories when we were younger, before Zander banned them as "nonsense." Now reading them again felt like touching a part of her I'd thought I'd lost. By the time the final bell rang, I'd filled half a page. I handed the book back to Riley. Thanks, Jane. Let's see what you've got." She leaned over and scanned the page, eyes brightening. "This is great! Definitely useful for our presentation." "Glad I could help." I smiled at her, and we started to pack up our things. "You ready to go?" Riley asked, smiling back at me.

“unlucky contestants…shelf two, book thirteen.” It sounded oddly like a personal note. My curiosity won out and I skimmed my fingers along the spines of the books until I chose one at random. I pulled out a medium-sized book, a deep shade of navy blue. Earthen twine was wrapped around the book, and there was a picture on the front. A middle-aged man with chocolate hair and dark eyes smiled up at me. The cover of the book read, “Arthur Zimmerman, Game 71.