#Giveaway Excerpt EMILY AND THE SPELLSTONE by Michael Rubens @michaelsrubens @HMHKids #BlogTour 7.2

In Emily and the Spellstone, Emily finds a stone that has magic powers. But there’s a hitch – the Stone also functioned as a prison for the demon-like Gorgo, whom Emily accidentally frees. This scene happens moments after she has done so – and it’s pretty clear she’s doomed. Or is she?He was nearly as tall as the room, wider than the door. His scarred and muscular body was grayish green and covered with spikes and bumps like you’d find on a desert lizard. He was wearing some sort of pants that were shredded below his knees. His eyes were burning yellow. His hands ended in wickedly curved talons. And his teeth . . .
And then there was the fire. Little spurts of flame kept erupting here and there on his body as if he were volcanically active. When he roared, flames jetted from his mouth. There were flames coming from his armpits, for goodness’ sake.
“HA HA HA!” he flame-laughed. “I AM GOING TO EAT YOU!” And he stooped and reached out a claw to seize her.
Just as she felt the point prick her skin, she screamed, “WAIT!”
He froze, leaning forward, the claw still entrapping her.
He didn’t move.
Emily didn’t move.
Her heart pounded so hard she thought surely she would die.
He still didn’t move.
And did some more not moving.
Then she saw his eyes dart to the side for a moment, then back to her.
“Uh . . .” he said. “Now what?”
“EEEEEEEEEE!!!” Emily screamed. The demon jumped.
“HELP ME!” screamed Emily. “Heeeelp! HEEEEELP!”
The demon was holding his massive hands over his pointed ears.
“HEEEEELP!!!”
“Hold on!” he said. “How? What do you want?”
“Help!”
“I know! I know! How!? How am I supposed to help you?”
“HEEEELLLL—what?” said Emily.
“You said, ‘Help.’ How. Do. You. Want. Me. To. Help. You?”
Emily stared at him, shaking. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps.
“What are you talking about?” she finally said. “Why did you keep saying you were going to eat me?”
“I couldn’t think of anything else to say! I’ve been imprisoned in that stone for an eternity, and suddenly I’m out, and it was the first thing that popped into my head!”
“So you’re not going to eat me?”
“No! I mean, yes! I mean, I’d like to, I fully intend to, but .º.º. I have to help you!”
Emily did a few more moments of staring.
“You have to help me?”
“Yes! I’m . . .” Here the creature appeared to undergo some sort of internal struggle, as if he—or it—was trying to prevent himself—or itself—from saying something vitally important that he—or it, you get the point—didn’t want to say.
“I’m . . . I’m . . . I’m bound to your service and have to obey you!” he blurted. “Argh! Ahhh!” he said, and slammed his giant palm into his gigantic forehead several times. “Why”—slam—“did I have”—slam slam—“to tell her that?” Slam slam slam.
Emily unsteadily got to her feet, her back pressed against the wall. “Who are you?” she said, because of the several hundred questions she had, that seemed like a good place to start.
The demon drew himself up to his full height.
“I am Baelmadeus Gorgostopheles Lacrimagnimum Turpisatos Metuotimo Dolorosum Tenebris Morsitarus.”
To Emily it sounded like one long, multisyllabic word.
“Baelma—?” she started.
“Just call me Gorgo. That’s what my friends call me.”
“You have friends?”
He considered this for a moment. “Nnnnooo,” he said.