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The King’s Seal

Ally’s missing ring may threaten her royalty, but the capture of Tan-Ur exposes her secret and changes her kingdom forever.
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Sales price without tax: $4.50
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 The King's Seal

Author: Shellie Neumeier

The Adventures of Cory and Ali Series

Genre: Tween Fantasy

Release: December 28, 2012

Editor: Nancy Bell

Line Editor: Theresa Cole

Cover Designer: Kaytalin Platt

Words  29481

Pages  118

ISBN  978-1-77127-236-0

Price  $4.50

 Back Cover:

Princess Ally’s thirteenth birthday dawns with the promise of gifts, parties, and her first royal gift, a signet ring that carries the mark of her family crest. Used by the royal family, the crest marks every decree and law the king and queen issue. When Ally’s royal ring disappears, Tallah, a mysterious newcomer, offers her help. Princess Ally accepts, but soon discovers her adventure has thrust them into the center of a dangerous uprising.

Matwau warriors raid Cory’s village, capturing every able-bodied man, woman, and child. When Cory escapes he sends for Ally’s help. Ally and Tallah agree to rescue his family, but before they complete their mission, Tallah disappears. Ally cannot ask for the king’s aid. She’s kept Cory friendship and their search for The Wishing Ring a secret from her family. Now as mystery and mayhem collide, Ally and Cory realize Tallah is the key to finding Ally’s ring and Cory’s family. If either is to be saved, they must find Tallah.


“How do I know this isn’t a trap?”

Ally rolled her eyes. “A trap? What kind of trap could I set? I’m a child, remember?” She approached him with her finger pointed toward his chest. “You’ve stolen my parents, wiped out the royal guard, and dragged me through this filthy forest with nothing more than the riding clothes on my back. No water. No servants. Nothing.” She thumped his chest for good measure. “I’ve lost my greybar and have no way to return home, if there even is such a thing anymore.” Thump. Thump. “What kind of trap could you possibly expect from me?” Her voice echoed off the trees and the brush as it reached a crescendo.

Turk growled low and deep. “Then go, fetch your things, and come back out.”

Ally’s eyes shot open and she grinned. “Excellent.” She bounded toward the doorway and crawled inside.


The back of Ally’s tunic pulled tight. She scurried back into the forest. “Now what?”

Turk released his grip on her shirting. “You need a guard. No sense in losing you now.”

“Afraid I’ll bolt?”

“Yes, frankly, I am.” Turk moved as if he planned to follow her inside.

“And what if my greybar has returned?”

Turk stopped dead in his tracks. “Saye, escort her inside.” He motioned for the raider who’d gripped her forearm a moment ago.

Ally laughed. “Do you really think one warrior would stop Wakoshoo? Have you forgotten what happened to your little band a few days ago?” She giggled. “That was something to see.” She glanced at Saye, as if to let him in on a delightful secret. “You see, Jax and Turk came—”

“Enough!” Turk bared his teeth. “Saye, you go first, then the Princess. The rest of us shall follow. Jax, stand guard at the door.”

Ally shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She motioned for Saye to go before her, and then followed him through the door.

Ally blinked against the sunlight that filtered through the playground. While the raiders milled around, apparently unconcerned that their captive would either run or pose a threat, Ally strode over to the playhouse near the far edge of the clearing. She tried to look nonplussed, bored even. No one seemed to attend to her movements. The men traced the ropes that held the vine-covered swings and studied the dirt-covered toys.

“Where are you going?” Turk had sidled up beside her, his breath ruffling Ally’s hair and startling her.

Taking a breath to calm her racing heart, Ally turned in his direction. “You want my things, don’t you?” she said in a steady voice.

The warrior eyed her.

“Because if you do, I need to go get them from the playhouse.” She pointed toward the little building and held her breath as he followed her point with his gaze.

Turk grunted, and then waved her forward. He followed a few paces behind as she made her way to the tiny structure. Ally measured the door with her mind’s-eye, hoping Turk’s over-grown body wouldn’t fit through it. She glanced at him sideways, unsure.

When they reached the house’s shadow, she licked her lips, opened the door, and slid inside.

Turk bent in half and poked his head through the doorway. “Hurry up.” He grunted. Then he pulled his head out and stood near the window, drumming his fingers against the framework.

Ally slammed the door shut and wedged a large branch against the door. A gift from Cory, no doubt. With quick movements, she took what furniture could be found and shoved it between the door and the branch, sitting on the last piece, as if adding her weight would keep the raiders from breaking down her ramshackle defense.

Turk pounded on the door, sending dust and debris raining from the ceiling. “What’s going on in there?” He sounded less than pleased.

“Just getting the sword.” She pulled a coin from her skirt pocket. A master carvesman captured the royal crest, sword and all, in the thumb-sized piece. Ali stroked it once, and then flung it through the window. “There you are. One sword and scabbard, gilded and studded. Beautiful isn’t it?” A small loss considering the stakes and she doubted he’d be able to keep the coin for long.

Across the compound, she heard a metallic scraping sounded, followed by an even louder clang and click. Feet shuffled away from the playhouse door and the smell of arrogant berry mash changed to musky fear.

Ally glanced around, wondering how long it would take before the warriors remembered her and how long before she would be rescued. Sweat ran down her back and between her shoulder blades, tickling her resolve.

Shouts rose from the men, but their curses were soon replaced with the sounds of rustling leaves and breaking branches.

“There’s brick beneath the vine, Turk.” A warrior called.

“There’s no way out.” A second bellowed.

How long before they took their anger out on the frail playhouse? And her?

“The girl.”

“Yeah, get her.”

Not long.




About the Author:

Married for over 20 years, Shellie and her husband have four wonderful kiddos and two goofy greyhounds.   After receiving her undergraduate degree in Secondary Education from the University of Wisconsin—Madison, she went on to acquire an early childhood education certificate.  Shellie also served in youth, children’s, special needs and family ministries for over twenty-two years.

Now she enjoys teaching her teens how to drive and chauffeuring her preteens across the Wisconsin countryside.  And once in a while, she loves to read big people books (you know the kind without pictures).

Shellie writes because it keeps her away from her husband’s power tools and because every now and then, she doesn’t have the choice, it just takes over.  Her best inspiration comes from the occasional walk along a country road with her greyhounds.






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